"Main thing is that one day it doesn't become too late."
"Profound."
"Father hammers profundity into me," Justin twisted his face, clearly remembering something unpleasant. "In words, turns out not bad. In deed... So-so."
Silence reigned in our modest company, but it was destined to last not long; classmates quickly gathered at the table, and we began checking if all homework was done, for tomorrow will be an especially difficult day.
In a study, the wood and stone finish of which spoke of the owner's wealth, two wizards sat at a table, seeming opposites of each other. It was already night outside the window, and tiny lights of stars gave almost no light. Only a pair of dim lamps illuminated the study. Gloomy Potions Master Severus Snape, all in black, with black hair that seemed greasy due to special products. His interlocutor, a platinum long-haired blond, famous patron of arts, in the recent past—Head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and simply a rich man, Lucius Malfoy.
Both wizards sat with elegant glasses of firewhisky in hands, conducting a casual conversation about the frailty of being and various vicissitudes.
"How are things with my son, Severus?" Lucius asked, finally, the question for which the old comrade, and concurrently Head of Slytherin House, was invited.
"Mediocre, Lucius," the Potions Master answered dryly. "I told you more than once that he does not fit the role of a leader."
"And I told you more than once that even if he is a leader only fictitious, public for the rest," Lucius smiled weakly, flashing steel-colored eyes. "Then over time, others will get used to seeing exactly him there. Hogwarts is the very time for such a thing."
"And nevertheless," Severus took a small sip of the strong drink, allowing these drops to give every note of taste. "I am forced to again focus attention on his shortcomings, with which you, as a father, are simply obliged to work."
"Proceed. Unlikely you will say something new. And Draco is too stubborn and cowardly. As soon as the matter smells of punishment, he immediately pretends that he learned the lesson."
"And you buy it."
"Both I and Narcissa. Every time we think that now Draco will do everything right. And as a result?"
"As Antonin used to say: 'Never happened before, and here again'," Severus covered a smirk with the glass.
"Precisely," Lucius did the same. "So what about his negative qualities? And did he not get involved in another adventure?"
"As always stubborn, inconsistent, his actions are stupid and short-sighted, and attempts at intrigues are not just not thought out a couple of steps ahead—they lead backward."
"Predictable," nodded Lucius. "I will think about educational measures on Christmas holidays. Any new conflicts?"
"You don't even doubt Draco's abilities to find these conflicts?"
"His intemperance will one day play a cruel joke on him. I want this lesson to happen at Hogwarts, under Madam Pomfrey's supervision and in relative safety."
"Hmm..." Severus took another sip, settling more comfortably in the armchair. "New student, third-year, brother of Hermione Granger."
"Yes, remember. You seemed to mention several times a sick boy lying in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing."
"Draco managed to create a conflict with him on the very first day. Conflict with a 'Puff, Lucius. Brother of the Boy-Who-Lived's friend. In response, this boy ridiculed your son very sharply. Draco didn't like it, and he decided to catch him and teach him a lesson."
"Judging by your tone, nothing worked out. But, knowing you, you surely made the boy guilty, right?"
"Procedure worked out by years of practice, Lucius. Slughorn did so, I did so, and intend to do. But this boy wrapped everyone around his finger."
A spark of interest appeared in Lucius's eyes, and even a smirk on his face betrayed this interest.
"Continue," nodded the blond.
"By some magical trick, he forced Draco and his comrades to believe that instead of comrades, this Hector and his classmate were attacking them. Lucius, they simply beat each other up, sincerely believing that they cast at Granger. Moreover, during what was happening this boy acted so that he could honestly say that he was not involved in anything. Honestly keeping silent. Clean. Generally. And even the wand."
"And you didn't guess?"
"Guessed, but not immediately. It was already too late to change anything. By the way, wanted to ask you. Was it not you who advised Draco to get an injury so as not to play Quidditch while Dementors are at school?"
"Not quite. I only told him before departure that this is one of the options."
"And, as usual, asked to arrange some diversion at Hagrid's lesson. You knew who would be the Care teacher?"
"Of course I knew, Severus..."
Lucius got tired of sitting in the armchair and getting up, he approached the window, holding the glass with firewhisky in his hand.
"Even if I am no longer on the Board of Governors, connections didn't go anywhere. Of course I asked Draco, if possible, to disrupt this forester's lesson, but so that precisely the forester was guilty."
"Congratulations, Lucius. Your, without a doubt, genius son, decided to set himself up under a hippogriff's claws."
"Nonsense," Lucius waved it off. "Draco knows perfectly well how to handle them, and how to set himself up safely. A hippogriff will never deliver the first strike too strongly. Scratch, yes. Not a bad idea if not afraid of a little pain. Succeeded? It should have been today?"
"Yes, today, and no, didn't succeed," Severus also got up from the armchair and approached the same window, looking at night fields around the manor. "Granger disrupted the performance. Moreover, he compared all facts on the go, assumed everything, and in Slytherin manner tipped a tub of this slop on Draco."
"Let me guess. My son made a dissatisfied face, proudly threw up his head, expressed a curse, and intemperately ran away. Right?"
"Precisely. Lucius. He loses even imaginary authority. Much worse is that he constantly and in front of everyone threatens to 'write to daddy', and he will sort it out. With a Mudblood, Lucius."
Both wizards looked silently out the window for several seconds. Lucius with a question in his gaze turned to gloomy Severus.
"You don't think that I will really do something about this? School is school. Let him get his own bumps. But you can help him. Advise something, and if anything—cover. Surely your plan, of an adult and experienced Slytherin, should be crowned with success."
"Lucius. I. Am tired. I have a whole House of such... Dim-witted kids with inflated conceit. You are the father, you advise him. And I will cover. And enough about students already. I have the dubious pleasure of solving their problems every day and even night. Better tell me, are there movements with the Minister?"
"Fudge is a stupid cowardly idiot."
"You are not a brave man either," Severus smirked, finishing the remains of firewhisky in the glass.
Lucius finished his and beckoned the bottle with magic, correcting such injustice as empty glasses.
"I rationally avoid excessively complex situations. Fudge is afraid of his own shadow. He is so afraid that Sirius will manage to undermine his and the Ministry's reputation that he is ready to kill him on the spot without trial or investigation. Under the pretext that he hunts Potter, he drove these cursed creatures to Hogwarts and for no money, services, and promises wishes to change them for Aurors."
"After all, people know how to talk, and Merlin forbid, will talk to Black."
"Precisely. Be so kind, convey my urgent request to Draco. Let him not even think about loitering around the castle alone and even in a small company."
Here Lucius seemed to remember something and looked at the Potions Master with a sly smile.
"They say you were seen talking to a certain lady on Diagon Alley."
"Surprises you that I know how to talk? And our conversation now is a product of a mind inflamed by alcohol?"
"Talked, longer than usual, and even portrayed something more than a smirk, but less than a smile. Tell..."