Chapter 67: Before the Storm
"I told you so! Dumbledore was bound to leave sooner or later," Malfoy crowed during Potions class, his tone dripping with glee. "He's the worst headmaster this school has ever had. Now look—what I said came true! If he hadn't left, the Mudbloods would've been killed off one by one. Professor McGonagall won't last long either, even if she's just the acting headmistress."
"Your father certainly timed this well," Lillian said, her pale blue eyes glinting faintly with restrained anger. "Striking at such a critical moment, when no one was prepared—dragging Dumbledore down without warning. This move practically opens the door for the Chamber's heir to act even more recklessly. It's despicable."
Malfoy gave a nervous cough and turned to glance at Augustus. He knew his family's actions had crossed a line. Before the other old families had a chance to react, his father had acted swiftly, forcing Dumbledore out of office. If they'd waited longer, this wouldn't have been so easy. As the only heir of the Malfoy family, he felt uncomfortably caught in the middle. "Haha, well, I didn't exactly agree with the plan either," he muttered, scratching his head awkwardly. "It was all my father's doing. Honestly, I think Dumbledore was a decent headmaster."
Lillian's lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. "Funny, that's not what you said earlier. Still, you should be proud. For your family to bypass the other families and pull this off alone? That's impressive. The Malfoys have gained quite the reputation in the wizarding world for this bold move."
Augustus remained impassive. Malfoy, glancing at him nervously, lowered his head and fell silent.
Professor Snape strode past Harry without acknowledging the empty seat and unused cauldron where Hermione usually sat.
"Sir," Pansy called out loudly, "why don't you apply for the position of headmaster?"
Malfoy shot her a glare, his expression filled with dismay.
"Oh, Pansy," Snape said, though he couldn't quite suppress the faint smile curling his lips. "Dumbledore has only been temporarily suspended by the Board of Governors. I dare say he'll be back with us very soon."
"Yes, of course," Pansy replied with a sycophantic grin, oblivious to Malfoy's silent warning. "But, sir, if you did apply, I'm sure my father would support you. I'll tell him you're the best teacher here, sir…"
Striding across the dungeon classroom, Snape allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk, though Seamus Finnigan mockingly pretended to vomit into his cauldron behind the professor's back.
"The suspension won't last long," Augustus remarked calmly, not looking up from his work. "With his reputation and connections in the wizarding world, your father's ambush won't have much effect. Dumbledore will be back before long."
Malfoy's demeanor shifted immediately. "Oh, I think so too!" he said hastily, all traces of arrogance vanishing. "Dumbledore is the greatest white wizard of all time. My father probably miscalculated—he'll surely return soon."
Pansy, sitting beside Malfoy, looked puzzled by his sudden change of tune, clearly confused as to why he was backpedaling so quickly. Lillian couldn't hold back a laugh at his discomfort. Malfoy rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and returned to cutting his ingredients in silence.
After class, Professor Snape escorted the students to their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Lockhart entered the classroom, practically bouncing with energy. The students stared at him in disbelief. While every other teacher had grown more solemn, Lockhart seemed carefree and cheerful.
"Cheer up, cheer up," he said brightly, scanning the room. "Why the long faces?"
The students exchanged irritated looks, but no one responded.
"Surely you've realized," Lockhart said, slowing his speech as if addressing a roomful of particularly dense individuals, "the danger has passed! The culprit has been apprehended!"
"Who says so?" Vincent growled, his tone brimming with anger. For the Slytherin students, this overly self-assured Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was utterly unreliable.
"My dear boy, if the Minister of Magic wasn't completely certain of Hagrid's guilt, he wouldn't have taken him away," Lockhart said smugly, as though explaining the simplest of truths.
"I doubt that," Lillian interjected disdainfully. "Hagrid doesn't have the ability to pull off these attacks alone."
"I dare say I know more about the circumstances of Hagrid's arrest than you do, Miss Lillian," Lockhart retorted, his tone dripping with condescension.
Augustus couldn't help but smirk. This man's unfounded confidence was remarkable—he almost envied such a simplistic mind.
"Sure, sure," Lillian snorted, rolling her eyes and letting the matter drop.
The rest of the lesson passed in a blur for Augustus, who paid little attention to Lockhart's ramblings. His thoughts were consumed by Hagrid's cryptic clue. Spiders? What connection could they possibly have to the Chamber of Secrets? Was it a riddle, or simply meant to be taken literally?
As he left the classroom with the crowd, Augustus noticed Harry and Ron waiting for him near the door. Stepping closer, Harry spoke nervously. "Mr. Augustus, should we move tonight? Try following the spiders first, and if that doesn't work, we'll think of something else."
"Are you both sure about this?" Augustus asked, his voice calm but serious. "This path will likely be dangerous, and I can't guarantee your safety. Do you still want to continue investigating?"
"Hermione's already been attacked," Harry said, his tone resolute. "As her friends, we can't stand by and do nothing. Now that we have this clue about the spiders, we have to follow it, no matter what."
Ron nodded in agreement, his expression equally determined.
Augustus studied them for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Let's meet at the Great Hall entrance tonight. Let's hope this leads us somewhere."
As the sun's rays poured through the windows, bathing Augustus in a golden halo, Harry smiled faintly. For a moment, the poised figure before him merged with the memory of the white-clad boy he'd first met on the train, standing proudly in the sunlight.
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