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Chapter 263: Father and Son
“Boom!”
The door shutting wasn’t loud, but Draco still flinched involuntarily.
He dared not look into his father’s eyes.
His mother was on the other side of the door—so was Professor Snape.
A hand, slightly cold, settled on his shoulder. Feeling the tension in his son’s body, Lucius felt a flicker of softness.
“You know what I’m going to say, Draco,” he murmured, his voice low and measured.
“Yes,” Draco lowered his head. “I’m sorry. I know I was wrong.”
“Where did you go wrong?” Lucius asked.
Draco stared at the floor, stiffly repeating the words Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey had drilled into him several times already:
“The Entrail-Expelling Curse is a dangerous spell. I shouldn’t have used it on one of my classmates… Even though Vincent is unbearable, I never wanted him to end up like that…”
“You’re wrong, Draco,” Lucius said, giving his shoulder a firm but not harsh tap. “Your greatest mistake was studying a magic you didn’t understand—on your own.”
Draco’s expression flickered with resistance.
He knew his father had learned many Dark Arts spells before coming to Hogwarts—taught by his own grandfather. And even when Draco first arrived, Lucius had taught him a few “useful little tricks” for self-defense.
But then he heard his father continue:
“—You only saw the harm it did to Vincent. But have you ever considered what would happen if that spell had been cast on you?”
Draco’s eyes snapped up in panic. Without thinking, he blurted: “Can a spell like that even affect the wizard who casts it?”
“Of course,” Lucius said flatly. “There was an Evrilly Wizard once—tried to skip the hard work, used the Entrail-Expelling Curse to ‘solve’ a blocked intestine. The result? He ended up with half his stomach emptied out.”
The image of Vincent’s suffering flashed through Draco’s mind. He shuddered violently.
“So can you understand?” Lucius said. “When your mother and I received Severus’s message, how terrified we were… terrified it was you who’d been hurt.”
Snape, for reasons unknown, had been deliberately vague in his letter—deliberately misleading them into thinking Draco was the victim.
At that moment, Lucius had nearly wanted to kill him. He’d already begun planning how to use the influence of the twelve board members to force Dumbledore out of office.
But when he arrived at school, met Crabbe—almost got punched—and finally understood the full story, Lucius’s fury deflated like a punctured balloon.
He began to think, calmly and carefully, about how to contain the fallout.
Faced with his visibly trembling son, Lucius didn’t punish him as harshly as he’d originally intended. Instead, he spoke gently—but firmly—about the worst possible outcomes.
He repeated again and again:
Never learn dangerous magic on your own—no matter how ordinary it seems. History is full of wizards who died by their own spells.
This time, he’d cover the cost—twenty thousand Galleons—but Draco must learn to be careful. No more rash actions. He needed to focus more on his studies or Quidditch.
“You’re a Slytherin,” Lucius said. “You must be like a serpent—moving silently in the shadows, a predator. But when you expose yourself to sunlight… that’s when you’re most vulnerable.”
He reassured Draco:
“Don’t worry about Vincent seeking revenge. I’ll always be your backstop. And when dealing with conflicts, never resort to violence. Here’s how you handle it…”
Lucius passed on years of hard-earned experience.
And all through it, Severus Snape’s name was brought up repeatedly—used as a cautionary tale. Draco learned that even the formidable Head of Slytherin had once been a nervous, awkward boy—someone bullied by classmates.
At times, Draco almost laughed out loud.
Forty minutes later, Lucius placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and led him out of the empty classroom.
Snape raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Draco’s lips were slightly relaxed—his cheeks even flushed. He looked nothing like a boy who’d just been scolded.
Snape narrowed his eyes, glancing at the towering Malfoy.
—Is this really the Lucius Malfoy I know?
The moment he saw Snape’s flat, expressionless face, Draco’s fleeting amusement vanished.
He realized the man before him wasn’t the pitiful boy from a story—just a tale Lucius had told him selectively.
This was a mature, powerful, and very unpleasant Head of House.
Draco’s smile vanished.
He watched as his parents exchanged a few polite words with the professor—intimate in tone, yet distant in manner.
As they were leaving, Lucius said, “Then I’ll leave Draco’s detention in your hands, Severus.”
Draco stared in shock at the father who had just spent forty minutes calmly guiding him.
“Of course,” Professor Snape replied, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “I have plenty of potion ingredients still to prepare.”
Bat wings. Beetle eyes. Cockroach antennae.
Draco’s face paled again.
He wished more than anything that his father would take him back.
But Draco didn’t know that, the moment they stepped outside the castle, Lucius’s expression darkened.
Narcissa silently joined him. “How did it go?”
“He didn’t say,” Lucius said, his face pale. “Draco isn’t willing… or perhaps unable… to tell me who taught him that spell. They must’ve signed some kind of magical covenant.”
When Draco claimed he’d learned it on his own at home, Lucius knew he was lying. But in front of others, he hadn’t exposed the lie.
Still, Lucius knew the truth:
The Malfoy family held many dangerous Dark Magic books—some so perilous that even proximity could be deadly.
Would he really let Draco touch them?
No.
The truly dangerous books were hidden—out of reach.
The ones in the study? They contained Dark Magic too, yes—but not too extreme, and not without proper warnings.
The only spell Draco could have seen was the “Entrail-Expelling Curse.”
At first, Lucius assumed Draco had sneaked into the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library. The castle was full of secrets—finding a forbidden spellbook wasn’t unusual.
But when Draco denied it, Lucius realized this was far more complicated than he’d thought.
“What about…” Narcissa frowned. “How did he even—”
“Leave it to Dumbledore for now,” Lucius said abruptly. “Even if someone inside has been up to mischief before… there’s little that escapes his eyes. Not even the Dark Lord…”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Realized what he’d said.
And snapped his mouth shut.
(End of Chapter)
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