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Chapter 97 – Says It Was a Misunderstanding?!!
Dumbledore's expression sharpened.
Malfoy's behavior was far beyond acceptable, and this time, Albus knew he might need to use methods he disliked. His gaze grew heavy.
But before he got a single sentence out, every professor in the room jumped in at once.
"What do you mean it's not just a punch?"
"It is just a punch! You're exaggerating, Albus!"
"Don't punish the boy. Darren is kind, gentle, and better-behaved than half this school."
"As far as Draco's bruise? I could fix that with one spell."
"Yes!"
They all spoke at once—voices overlapping, protective, indignant.
Dumbledore blinked.
He sighed, defeated. "No, no, that's not what I meant. What I'm saying is—"
He didn't get to finish.
"Dumbledore!"
Lucius Malfoy swept into the office, Narcissa behind him. His voice was cold and triumphant, cane in hand, chin lifted.
"Look at your star pupil. Look at what he's done to my son."
His pale eyes flicked over the gathered professors, then to the small group of students—Darren, Ron, and Neville.
He didn't even glance at Hermione. A girl, in his mind, could never have beaten Draco.
He grabbed Draco by the shoulder and pulled him forward.
"Draco. Point out who attacked you. Show me and your mother."
Narcissa had summoned Lucius in a panic, telling him Draco had been hurt. She'd forgotten the attacker's name in her shock, so Lucius came straight to Hogwarts to hear it from Draco himself.
He had two purposes today:
To defend Draco's "honor"…
And to finally see Darren.
His other son.
The son he could never acknowledge, not with the eyes of Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, or his own wife upon him.
The child he had watched from the shadows.
Lucius's heartbeat sped up when he glanced at Darren. The boy stood quietly near Dumbledore's desk, and Lucius felt a strange pull—recognition down to the blood.
His perfect, unmistakable Malfoy bloodline.
Even purer than Draco's.
That alone made Lucius feel both proud and sick.
He wanted to buy the boy a broom, give him everything he had denied him over the years. Draco had mentioned the boy couldn't afford one… and when Lucius tried to discreetly send one through Draco, the broom was returned.
Apparently half the school had already tried gifting Darren brooms.
Lucius had been forced to accept it.
To Darren, he was an outsider.
He swallowed the bitterness.
He couldn't risk revealing the truth. Not with Narcissa capable of turning the full Black family wrath on the boy.
Not with Severus—if he found out—capable of slipping poison into a cup without blinking.
Not with the Dark Lord, who would use the boy as leverage in a heartbeat.
So Lucius admired him in secret.
He cleared his throat, forcing his mask of cold aristocracy back into place.
"Draco," he repeated, "point. Him. Out."
He needed this to be resolved quickly. Draco was dramatic, but when he was upset he talked too much. And if Draco ever accidentally mentioned the slightest hint about Darren's real connection…
Lucius would have to bind Draco with an Unbreakable Vow before the boy ruined everything.
Draco, meanwhile, was beginning to panic.
He hadn't expected this to blow up so badly.
He just wanted his mother to scold Darren a little—nothing more.
Now nearly every professor in Hogwarts was here. Even Madam Pomfrey, though Professor Snape was absent as usual.
Everyone stared at Draco's dramatically enhanced bruise.
He swallowed. Hard.
Could he say it was all a misunderstanding?
Could he just… walk out?
No. Too late.
He lifted a trembling finger.
"Actually—um—I think… maybe it was a misunderstanding…?"
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