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Chapter 98 – Reinventing the Furnace!!
Draco couldn't run.
Not with half of Hogwarts' professors watching him, his mother's sharp gaze on his back, and his father radiating aristocratic judgment.
Neville was trembling. Ron looked confused. Hermione stood stiff with worry.
Draco swallowed hard.
Then—in a burst of fake courage—he jabbed a finger at Darren.
"It was him! He hit me!"
He didn't even say Darren's name, trying to hide behind vagueness. But the room already knew.
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[Ding. A Holy Father scenario has been detected. Temporary mission issued:]
Take full responsibility. In front of everyone, say:
"I think I should leave Hogwarts. I'm not suited for this place. If I see Malfoy bullying someone again, I can't promise I won't act. Rather than trouble the professors and my classmates… I should withdraw myself."
[Reward: Dumbledore's Blind Box]
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Darren blinked.
Dumbledore's blind box?
Now that was tempting.
Maybe he could draw Dumbledore's wand. Or some legendary relic. Anything would be better than the last time he pulled Snape's spare wand.
He rubbed his hands, eyes sparkling for half a second—before returning to his carefully crafted, sorrowful expression.
Draco puffed out his chest, feeling bold with his parents behind him.
"What are you looking at?" Draco snapped. "Dad's going to get you expelled! Even if he can't, at least you'll be terrified!"
He waited for Darren to cry.
Or stutter.
Or beg.
Instead, Darren gave a small, sad smile.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," he said quietly. "Mr. Malfoy Jr. is right. I did hit him. No one else was involved."
Draco's smugness rose—until Darren continued:
"I think… I'll leave Hogwarts."
The entire room inhaled sharply.
"Since I came here, I've been very happy. The professors care about me. My classmates are kind. So I can't just watch people being bullied. If Mr. Malfoy Jr. insults and hurts others, I can't act like I don't see it."
His voice trembled—not with fear, but with heartbreak.
"I can't change his behavior… and I can't change mine. So I'll go. I don't want to trouble anyone here."
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[Ding. Mission complete. Dumbledore's Blind Box acquired.]
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Darren accepted the reward while keeping his expression soft and wounded. The professors looked ready to riot.
How had Hogwarts come to this?
McGonagall's hands were shaking with anger.
"Albus," she said, voice low and trembling, "if you insist on expelling this child—I will resign."
Several professors echoed her immediately.
Dumbledore nearly choked.
He had never said he was expelling Darren. How did this rumor even start?
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Lucius ignored all of it.
"Resign if you want," he said lightly. "It doesn't matter. This boy is leaving regardless—he said so himself."
He turned sharply to Draco.
"Tell me his name. I'll report it to the Ministry. I want the record to show a Hogwarts student withdrew after assaulting a Malfoy. Draco, state his name."
Draco opened his mouth—nothing came out.
Narcissa glanced at Darren, unsettled.
"Lucius, it doesn't have to be so serious. They're children. It was a childish scuffle."
"It was a provocation against the Malfoy family!" Lucius snapped.
Then he gave up on Draco and faced Darren directly.
"Your name, child."
"Darren Potter," Darren whispered.
Lucius froze.
For a moment, it felt like Merlin himself had spoken.
His face drained of color, then flushed, then drained again.
He shot a murderous glare at Draco.
Draco shrank, confused.
Why is Father looking at me like I just cursed him?
Lucius's thoughts were spinning.
I almost reported my own child to the Ministry.
I almost demanded his expulsion.
Over a bruise a Healer can fix in five seconds?!
Narcissa stepped forward gently.
"Lucius, there's no need to escalate this. Draco, you're fine, aren't you?"
Draco nodded automatically, terrified of both parents.
Lucius stared at him with deep disappointment.
This son…
This son had no cunning. No subtlety. No kindness. No sense.
Not ruthless enough to be formidable.
Not soft enough to be compassionate.
Not clever enough to manipulate.
Not obedient enough to trust.
Just… useless chaos.
Lucius closed his eyes, massaging his temple.
He sincerely wanted—just for a moment—to throw Draco back into the metaphorical furnace and forge him again from scratch.
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