The Actor Malfoy

Before lunch, Lucius Malfoy learned that his son had been beaten.

He stared in astonishment, completely unable to imagine who would dare treat his son that way. He was the only son of the Malfoy family, the sole heir to that illustrious house.

But his shock and fury did not last long. The name Quirinus Quirrell immediately brought him back to his senses.

"Lucius, I'm going to Hogwarts. Right now! Good heavens, how could that man named Quirrell dare do such a thing..." Narcissa Malfoy said through her tears, muttering angrily.

"I told him not to provoke trouble..."

Malfoy's roar had his wife's approval, but she did not think it was enough.

"If you've met that Quirrell, you should have been even stricter with him. It seems he..."

Before his wife could finish, Malfoy raised a hand to stop her.

I was talking about that filial son, not my Master... Malfoy thought helplessly.

"I'll handle this. You don't need to go. Draco isn't badly hurt; he only bumped the corner of his eye."

Under his wife's puzzled gaze, Malfoy picked up his cane and prepared to leave, but then stopped.

"Don't do anything," he instructed her. "I'll make all the decisions."

His unusual warning made Narcissa realize that the situation was not so simple. She suppressed her anger and asked, "Is Draco really not badly hurt?"

"He's fine. The report is reliable. Just wait at home. I'll bring him back to see you this weekend. It won't be long."

He repeated his reassurance, then kissed Narcissa on the forehead before turning toward the study.

The Malfoy family's study was vast. Row upon row of shelves were filled with magical books, including some rare, unique editions.

But Malfoy was not after the books. He went to a shelf protected by numerous enchantments. Along with a few books, it held several small ornaments.

Carefully disabling the protective enchantments, Malfoy took down a ring. It was made of dark silver, with a small snake coiled atop it, its eyes silver.

He put on the ring and restored the shelf's protective enchantments before leaving Malfoy Manor.

But he did not head straight to Hogwarts. Instead, he paid several families a visit at great speed, and only set out for Hogwarts after obtaining what he wanted.

The detour cost him some time, so by the time he reached Hogwarts, it was already afternoon.

He did not go to see Headmaster Dumbledore or visit his son. Malfoy headed straight for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on the second floor.

Bang.

He shoved the door open without a hint of courtesy. As the young Eagles stared in shock, Malfoy flung the documents in his hand at Voldemort's face. Voldemort was taken aback, but he also caught the flash of alarm in Malfoy's eyes.

"You're fired, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. In the name of the Board of Directors, go find yourself another job."

Malfoy's furious, rude, and arrogant voice rang through the empty classroom.

The young Eagles trembled. Even though the person being treated this way was their professor and senior, they did not dare make a sound. Staying out of trouble was a tradition in Eagle House.

"Lucius Malfoy?"

Voldemort stared coldly at Malfoy. "I don't believe the directors have that authority. If you want to dismiss me, you'll need Headmaster Dumbledore's signature."

"The Board of Directors has every right to dismiss a professor like you for beating a student in class."

He roared and stepped forward to grab Voldemort. Voldemort was a little surprised; he had no idea what Malfoy was trying to do.

He dodged at first, but then restrained his instincts and reached out to block Malfoy's hand.

Malfoy's hand should have landed on Voldemort's arm, but he shifted slightly, and their hands clasped together in an instant.

A silvery-white glimmer flickered faintly on the snake's head atop the dark silver ring.

At that instant, Voldemort felt something touch his mind, as if some kind of magic were probing his thoughts. The sensation was not strong; instead, it carried a hint of invitation.

Voldemort started to pull his hand away, then took a moment to think it over. In the end, he decided to accept the intrusion.

As soon as he opened his mind, a voice reached him. "Master, how should I play along?"

It was Malfoy. Though Voldemort did not know how he had managed it, he was certain the thoughts belonged to him.

"What you're doing now is perfect. Keep attacking me and making trouble for Dumbledore." Voldemort's thoughts flowed through the ring and into Malfoy's mind.

"Aren't you afraid they'll dismiss you? Or is that part of the plan too?" Malfoy asked.

"Dumbledore won't allow that to happen. It would undermine his authority. Besides, I acted on Gryffindor's behalf. He'll have to consider his reputation."

Malfoy kept tugging at him, now understanding his Master's plan. He wanted to put Dumbledore in a difficult position, and Malfoy's status as a director made him perfectly suited to do it.

An impeccable plan. My Master has become wise once more... Malfoy thought.

"I'll play along, Master. I hope you won't blame me for throwing the papers in your face."

Malfoy's thoughts were already withdrawing from the connection, but Voldemort stopped him.

"Young Malfoy needs to be taught a lesson," Voldemort said urgently before the connection could break.

Malfoy froze for a moment, and his tugging faltered. Fortunately, Voldemort reacted quickly, acting as if he were pulling away and prompting Malfoy to resume tugging at him.

"You've spoiled him too much. As one of the next generation's leading Death Eaters, he should grow up quickly, not become a spoiled child."

"I understand, Master."

Malfoy answered almost without hesitation, then quickly explained why Draco had been spoiled.

"Before, I wasn't sure when you would return, so I didn't dare discipline him too harshly. He stands out too much, and that would attract more attention. Those people are watching my family. I had to keep trouble away from us."

"All trouble will disappear. We will win in the end."

After saying that, Voldemort gave a sharp tug, breaking free of Malfoy's grip and severing the connection himself.

The Dark Lord will triumph... Malfoy thought, though his face remained furious.

Only where no one could see, he slipped his hand back into the pocket of his robes. When he pulled it out again, the ring had vanished.

"I'm going to see Dumbledore. I expect he'll give me an explanation—and the directors an answer."

With a roar, Malfoy left without hesitation.

"Let's continue the lesson, children."

Voldemort's expression was grim too, as though Malfoy had ruined his mood. "I don't think anyone wants to end up like Draco."

The young Eagles, keen to stay out of trouble, nodded vigorously and tried hard to look attentive. What they were thinking, however, was anyone's guess.