Chapter 261: I Didn't Know It Would Be Like This
Draco looked up in terror, his body trembling.
"I..."
His lips mumbled, as if he wanted to say something, but after a moment, what squeezed out between his teeth was still a defense for himself.
"I didn't know... I didn't know he'd turn out like this... I just... I just wanted to embarrass him... I didn't know it would be like this..."
He spoke, terrified and sobbing.
It wasn't that Draco had never seen people get hurt before; even in the Slytherin common room, students often got into fights.
But broken limbs, or even a stab wound, were completely different from the shock of one's internal organs suddenly being pulled out of their body.
His mind was a mess at the moment, the image of Vincent collapsing still flashing before his eyes.
His excuse sounded ridiculous, but seeing Draco so utterly terrified, even Crabbe knew he wasn't lying.
Indeed...
Although the Entrail-Expelling Curse was an extremely evil piece of Dark Magic, in the hands of a skilled Healer, it was merely a way to treat constipation.
Quick and convenient... with no other problems besides being too fast-acting, sometimes pulling out the intestines along with it.
Snape couldn't help but show a look of disgust.
The thoughts in this foolish boy's mind were practically laid bare for everyone to see —
Draco had originally just wanted to make Vincent, who had offended him, soil himself in public.
For a twelve-year-old boy, the mental trauma of shitting himself in front of others was enough to make him socially ruined until he graduated from school, perhaps even until he was buried in his coffin.
But the problem was, whether the Entrail-Expelling Curse was healing magic or highly damaging Dark Magic depended solely on the Wizard's intent.
The difficulty in precisely controlling it was extremely high, certainly not something an ordinary second-year student could master.
For example—
Even at St. Mungo's, which gathered the best Healers in all of Britain, people generally used a nasty-tasting Potion to solve constipation, rather than directly giving a patient an Entrail-Expelling Curse.
The danger of this Spell was evident.
It was important to remember that before learning any Spell, one first had to study a great many bloody failure cases to warn Young Wizards not to treat their power lightly.
However, Draco, who had learned the Entrail-Expelling Curse, seemed to have skipped this crucial step.
"Who taught you the Entrail-Expelling Curse?"
Dumbledore did not blame the terrified student; instead, he patiently explained the dangers of the Entrail-Expelling Curse, then asked again.
Draco's expression stiffened.
He quickly glanced at Dumbledore, his gaze shifting between his father's rigid back and Professor Snape's grim face, his toes unconsciously inching closer to his mother.
The ring on his finger suddenly felt a little hot.
The Necromancer Society...
Why hadn't they told him the consequences would be so severe?
Draco bit his lip, forcing himself to speak:
"No one... I... I saw it in a book..."
Thinking that perhaps all the books in the school were known to Dumbledore, Draco added an amendment.
"It was a Malfoy family... an old book..."
Malfoy Senior subtly closed his eyes.
This idiot!
He cursed silently in his heart, but he didn't expose his son.
No matter how clumsy Draco's lie was, Lucius Malfoy had to help him maintain it.
"I think you also understand... this was an unfortunate accident caused by a small conflict between children—the reckless nature of young people always tends to bring disastrous consequences, and examples of Spells being misused are also common."
He spoke in an unnatural tone, trying to downplay the incident as much as possible, then said sincerely:
"Of course, while Draco didn't intend to harm anyone, the injury he caused Vincent is undeniable. I will offer ample compensation."
Narcissa nodded silently; Draco noticed her fingers were very cold.
Dumbledore had been staring intently at Draco, making him shift his gaze, practically screaming "I'm lying" with his face.
But after Malfoy Senior spoke, he casually raised his hand, as if by accident, blocking his son, and Dumbledore's gaze shifted to his face.
The two stared at each other, Lucius Malfoy's grey eyes appearing cold.
A moment later, the two seemed to reach some understanding, simultaneously averting their gazes to look at the other person present.
"Is that acceptable, Crabbe?"
Malfoy said politely, an unconscious air of superiority in his tone.
"I will fully cover Vincent's treatment, and besides that, I can give you..."
He recalled Vincent's injuries, and the number he had in mind doubled.
"—Twenty thousand Galleons."
Old Crabbe's lips were tightly pursed, his eyes flickering between ferocity and hesitation.
He only had one son, Crabbe, and he usually doted on the boy immensely.
At this moment, Old Crabbe wanted to shout:
"To hell with your damn compensation! We don't need it! I just want to send that little scoundrel to Azkaban!"
But the truth was—
They desperately needed it.
The Crabbe family bore the name of a Pure-blood noble, but in reality, they had long been living off past glories. They mocked the Weasley Family's poverty, but their own family was not much better off.
Maintaining the prestige of a "Pure-blood noble" was expensive, especially in the last two years, with a constant stream of luxurious "necessities" that had almost emptied Crabbe's pockets.
—For this, the quiet student sitting beside them was largely responsible.
And for "Voldemort's old followers" like them, earning money was also difficult; even if people didn't say anything to their faces, they were always subtly or overtly ostracizing them.
Of course, officially, Crabbe and his family still claimed that, like Malfoy, they had been manipulated by the Imperius Curse and forced to commit bad deeds.
But everyone knew the real situation.
So Crabbe and Goyle had to depend on the Malfoy family to survive.
Just as it was for the father, so it was for the son.
With the Malfoy family's wealth, even if they didn't earn money for several generations, they could still lie on piles of gold and count their Galleons.
But if the Crabbe family lost Lucius Malfoy's help, they would be reduced to competing with the Weasley Family in poverty within six months.
After a long hesitation, Old Crabbe finally very slowly and slightly… nodded.
He agreed to the private settlement with Malfoy, but his heart was filled with resentment and discomfort.
Then, he heard Dumbledore say:
"Draco Malfoy attacked a fellow student with his Wand within the school, causing serious consequences. Even if his intentions were not so, he must still be punished."
Draco, pale-faced, looked up and heard the Headmaster say in an unquestionable tone:
"Detention! From this afternoon until after the third-year final exams, during this period Mr. Draco Malfoy needs to learn how to respect his classmates, how to use Spells correctly, and…"
Dumbledore looked down at Draco, his expression slightly cold, and said:
"He also needs to prove to the school—that although he has done wrong now, there is still a possibility of correction, and so his Wand does not need to be destroyed, nor does he need to be expelled from school."
This meant that if Draco made another mistake during his detention, the school might punish him for both offenses, expelling him directly.
Draco looked at his father in panic, but saw that Lucius Malfoy had no intention of defending him this time.
He could only nod slightly.
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