"Shame! It's an absolute shame!"
Angry roars echoed through Malfoy Manor.
A middle-aged man, dressed in luxurious clothing with pale skin, paced back and forth in the lavishly decorated living room. His long golden hair swung wildly behind him.
"Honey, don't get so worked up… you'll hurt yourself," a beautiful woman, dressed just as elegantly, advised him cautiously.
"How can I not be angry?! That bastard, Abu! He actually betrayed the honor of our pure-blood lineage!" The man struck the ground with his cane in frustration. "Do you know how they mocked me at the party today? They said the Malfoy family is known for switching sides! Bastards! What a disgrace!"
"I think Abu had no choice. Given the situation at the time, he had to do what he did... Besides, plenty of other children made the same decision. Why are they only mocking us?"
"Why?" Old Malfoy laughed bitterly. "Because he was the first pure-blood child to surrender! Why didn't he just die on the spot at school? Where's his backbone?"
Hearing this, Mrs. Malfoy became visibly upset. After all, that was her precious son.
"How can you curse your own child like that? Backbone? Do you think you have any?"
Old Malfoy hesitated upon seeing his wife's anger.
"I... No, I have to teach him a lesson! Get me some paper! I'm sending him a Howler!"
"Asshole! You dare send a Howler to my son? You're sleeping in the living room tonight!"
"I—then I can write him a letter, right? You... don't hit me! It won't be a Howler!"
Hogwarts – The Headmaster's Office
Principal Dippet was busy in front of the fireplace when a knock sounded on the door.
"Come in!" he called out without looking up.
Dumbledore strode in.
"Armando, I need to request leave. The Ministry of Magic—uh…" Dumbledore paused, noticing the headmaster's actions. "Armando, what exactly are you doing?"
"I'm cleaning up a mess, Albus," Dippet said, tossing a handful of letters into the roaring flames. The fire surged, nearly singeing his beard.
"Ha! I knew dark magic was involved! Ignoring these letters was the right choice!" Dippet said, looking pleased.
"Armando, are you burning letters?"
"Yes."
"Who sent them? There are too many…"
Just then, an owl flew through the window, dropping a smoking letter before hastily escaping.
Dippet swiftly drew his wand and pointed it at the letter.
Sizzle!
The Howler was reduced to ashes before it could even open.
"Of course, they're from those pure-blood families! The two students you brought back have made quite an impact at Hogwarts. Naturally, some people have complaints," Dippet grumbled, rubbing his lower back as he pulled up a recliner. "Sit down, Albus."
Dumbledore pulled up a chair, unbuttoning the top of his robe due to the warmth from the fireplace.
"What are you planning to do about the situation?" he asked.
"About what?" Dippet replied.
"The Mutual Aid Society…" Dumbledore asked cautiously.
"Why should I do anything about them? Aren't they doing well? Horace even took the opportunity to reorganize Slytherin House… Albus, I mean no offense, but you personally brought these students back. Why are you questioning their success?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Armando, that's not what I meant."
The Mutual Aid Society was created under his guidance, so naturally, he wouldn't oppose it.
"Good, because there's no need to interfere. They're doing great. Why disrupt them?" Dippet said, throwing another handful of letters into the fire.
Initially, he had thought Robert's Mutual Aid Society was just a childish game.
But reality had surprised him.
Not only had Robert corrected many of the toxic behaviors encouraged by pure-blood traditions, but overall student performance had improved significantly because of the club.
Most importantly, it had helped reform some of the worst habits of Slytherin House.
Hogwarts had started changing for the better in just one month. As headmaster, he had no reason to interfere with something so beneficial.
"What about the heads of pure-blood families?" Dumbledore asked.
Dippet leaned back in his chair. "What else? Ignore them. Their outdated traditions shouldn't have influence here. Besides, have you ever wondered why their children are learning dark magic so young?"
"But wouldn't it be unwise to ignore them? What if they pressure Hogwarts through the Ministry of Magic?"
Dippet shot him a glance. "Since when have you been concerned about Ministry pressure?"
"We should at least show some respect to the Ministry," Dumbledore replied.
Dippet smirked. "Well, I don't have time for this nonsense. You're the Deputy Headmaster now. You handle it."
Dumbledore frowned. "Since when am I Deputy Headmaster?"
"As of right now. You were going to be headmaster eventually, anyway. I'm getting old, Albus. It's time you started running Hogwarts."
"Armando… You just don't want to deal with this."
"Exactly. I've worked hard for this school for years. Can't I finally relax? Do you expect a centenarian like me to deal with these annoying pure-bloods? You'll handle all external affairs now."
Dumbledore sighed. "Fine, I won't refuse."
"Good! Young people should work harder. Now all their complaints will be directed to you."
"...So that was your plan all along."
Potions Class
"I want to design a badge for the club. That way, if we need to gather, we can notify members through them," Tom said while stirring his potion.
Robert, who was chopping ingredients beside him, gave him a strange look. "What's the design? A skull spitting a snake?"
Tom frowned. "Your taste is terrible! A skull with a snake? Are you serious?"
Robert chuckled. Voldemort thinks the Dark Mark is ugly? That's… ironic.
"Alright, what's your design, then?"
"I'm keeping it simple—just a redbud flower. Its meaning is harmony and friendship, which fits our club's purpose."
"Much better than a skull," Robert said approvingly.
"Tsk, can you stop obsessing over skulls?" Tom muttered.
Robert laughed. "By the way, how are the new pure-blood members adjusting?"
"They're doing okay," Tom replied. "You were right. The environment shapes people. They were hesitant at first, but they're adapting."
"It was expected… but their parents must be furious," Robert mused.
Tom suddenly stopped stirring, deep in thought.
"Tom? What's wrong?"
"Abraxas has been acting strange lately," Tom admitted.
"Oh? How so?"
"He used to be very involved, but lately, he's withdrawn. I suspect his family is pressuring him."
"That's likely. Unlike the others, he truly surrendered to us," Robert said. "Have him meet me after class."
After the lesson ended, Tom left while Robert stayed behind.
Professor Slughorn handed him a golden key.
"This is for your Gringotts vault. Your beauty potion is a hit, especially because of its unique fragrance. Your profits will be deposited here."
Robert's back straightened as he walked out. Having money changes things.
In the club room, Abraxas stood nervously.
"Perhaps Tom told you why I called you here?" Robert asked.
"Yes… but I don't want my family's issues to affect the club," Abraxas said anxiously.
"Abu, it seems you never wanted my friendship," Robert said, his voice calm.
Abraxas panicked. "No! I would never—"
"Then why not trust me?"
Abraxas lowered his head. "Captain… As a friend and club member, I need your help!"
Robert smiled, patting his shoulder.
"Tomorrow, you'll receive a letter from your father—expressing his support for you."
(End of Chapter)
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