Although many questions still lingered, with Lucius present and Draco's innocence confirmed by the Prior Incantato, the Ministry had no grounds to detain him—let alone subject a minor wizard to Auror interrogation methods.
Veritaserum, of course, was out of the question.
After Draco's wand was returned, Lucius led him and the others out of the Ministry. The Aurors watching them go couldn't hide the resentment burning in their eyes...
"Draco."
"We'll talk about it later, Lucius."
"..."
Hands on her hips, Narcissa cut him off sharply. Her familiar tone made Lucius's lips twitch. Though he hadn't intended to scold Draco, one look from his wife—the woman even the "Viper of the Ministry" feared—was enough to silence him completely. He swallowed his words and sighed in defeat.
Cradled in his mother's arms, Draco could only send his father a helpless glance, while Astoria, standing nearby, smiled for the first time since the incident.
The Ministry, meanwhile, was still divided on whether the public should be informed of what had truly happened. But it was obvious to everyone that the decision didn't rest with the Minister—it rested with Dumbledore, the wizard whose influence overshadowed them all.
Yet the final outcome turned out to be far from what Draco had expected...
"The outcome changed?"
Draco placed that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet on the table. The newspaper contained only one story—an article that filled an entire page. Today's issue spoke of nothing else but the previous night's events.
It wasn't about the Quidditch World Cup champions, nor the Mad Sisters' sold-out world tour, nor the usual scandal caused by some celebrity making a fool of himself over a Veela. No, the entire front page was devoted to the story of the Morsmordre.
But the report was not at all what Draco had imagined.
To be precise, it was completely different from what he had anticipated.
SMACK!
"This is the 'truth' you mentioned? It's nothing like what you told me!"
The one slamming her hand against the table was Pansy Parkinson, who had flown back from South Africa overnight the moment she heard about Draco's situation. Her travel-worn face and tired eyes made it clear she hadn't rested at all. It seemed she'd come straight to find him the moment she arrived.
Her anger, however, wasn't directed at Draco—it was aimed at the wizard who had approved the printing of that article.
"Just look at what it says! They're calling it a prank?! Are they seriously trying to cover the whole thing up—with something this... pathetic?"
"Pathetic? I wouldn't say that... exactly."
Draco glanced at Pansy's puffed-up face and gave her a vague reply. Because deep down, he knew the truth: too many wizards thought like Cornelius Fudge. They clung to denial, to wishful thinking about Voldemort's return.
Not everyone had Dumbledore's strength—or his courage to face what was coming.
For most, denial was the first instinct.
Voldemort returning?
Impossible. A lie.
That was what most wizards wanted to believe. This article served them perfectly, easing their fears and giving them an explanation they could live with.
So, in a sense, this flimsy lie—one that could be torn apart with the slightest scrutiny—was exactly what they needed. And they believed it.
What Draco hadn't expected, though, was that the Minister of Magic had gone against Dumbledore's wishes.
Instead, he had twisted the truth—and published his altered version for the entire wizarding world to see.
But that led to another question.
How had that cowardly Minister managed to make Dumbledore agree to it?
Or rather... how had he managed to slip free of Dumbledore's control?
Unaware of what Draco was thinking, Pansy tapped her fingers on the table again.
"Is the Ministry of Magic really just going to do nothing, Draco? That's... that person we're talking about."
Having already heard the truth from Draco and done her own digging, Pansy was naturally inclined to believe in the possibility of Voldemort's return. Besides, this was hardly some childish prank.
"And why would he want to recruit you? Could you be in danger? What are you going to do about it?"
Her rapid-fire questions, combined with her anxious tone, made Draco reach out and chop lightly at her hand. "Calm down."
"...How am I supposed to calm down? You clearly haven't heard what people are saying outside!"
Seeing Draco's calm, detached expression only made Pansy more exasperated. She stomped her foot, her frustration spilling over.
While Draco had still been stuck in the Ministry, she had already heard plenty from Goyle and the others.
"Outside? What do you mean?"
Pansy rolled her eyes at his confused look, feeling foolish for having worried so much about someone who seemed completely unfazed.
...
What Pansy meant was this:
On the surface, it seemed like the Ministry had contained the situation and prevented the panic from spreading. But in truth, a large number of wizards had witnessed what happened that night.
And by the next morning, countless rumors were already flying around.
Some claimed Death Eaters had attacked just to recruit Draco.
Others said Draco had been one of them all along.
There were even whispers suggesting he should be thrown into Azkaban.
In short, most of the talk was heavily against him—and that was exactly why Pansy was so furious.
"I see."
"I see my arse! You're just going to sit there after hearing all that? You can't let them go around saying whatever they want!"
"What—"
Before he could finish, Pansy stormed up to him and grabbed his cheeks with both hands, squishing his face between her palms.
Draco froze, caught off guard by the sudden gesture.
It was obvious she was genuinely upset—otherwise, she would never have done something like that.
After all, trying to grab hold of Draco Malfoy like that was about as risky as trying to tease a dragon...
...
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