~~ Chapter Four: The Compromise ~~
"You know, I'm really worried about Malfoy," Harry Potter said to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger as the three of them walked to Transfiguration. "I haven't seen him since Musical Enchantment yesterday. He wasn't at dinner last night, either."
"I overheard Snape talking to Trelawny last night," Hermione said. "He won't come out of his room or talk to anyone, not even his father."
"Poor guy," Harry mused. He knew what it was like to lose a family. Awful as Draco was, he still felt sorry for him.
"Don't feel sorry for him," Ron said. The three of them stopped walking. "It's not like he has feelings or anything. And he's still got that dreadful father of his."
"Hmph!" Hermione said. "If I were Draco, that would only make me feel worse."
"You couldn't understand," Harry told his friends. "Both of you still have your parents. I have to live with my aunt and uncle, and they're almost as bad as the Malfoys."
Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry, they're not." She hugged her textbooks to her chest and started walking again, leaving the boys behind.
Ron and Harry watched her go, making no attempt to stop her. Due to all the run-ins she'd had with Draco in her time at Hogwarts, Hermione was very touchy when it came to the Malfoys. Although she was one of, if not the finest student there, Draco always jumped at an opportunity to point out that she would never be a "true" witch because her parents were Muggles.
"I'm going to go talk to him," Harry decided once Hermione was out of earshot.
"Who?" Ron asked. "Malfoy?"
Harry nodded. "But not until after Transfiguration. Come on. McGonagall will kill us if we're late."
They were late, and although Transfiguration instructor Minerva McGonagall didn't kill them, she did threaten to turn them into flowerpots if it happened again. Ron and Harry apologized, then took their seats. McGonagall began the lesson, but Harry's mind wasn't on Transfiguration. He was thinking about Draco Malfoy. Draco wasn't his friend – not even close – but just the same, Harry thought he deserved some sympathy, no matter what Ron and Hermione said. He made up his mind to grab his father's invisibility cloak after class and then head over to Slytherin. Hopefully, he wouldn't get caught.
A loud slam on his desk brought Harry's thoughts back to the moment. Minerva McGonagall was on his desk with a yardstick in hand. "Harry Potter," said her stern voice, "you are not paying attention. If I have to speak to you about this again, the entire class will get extra homework."
"Pay attention, Harry," Hermione hissed through clenched teeth as McGonagall walked back up to the front of the classroom. "Stop worrying about Malfoy."
Harry focused his attention on the lesson, but he didn't stop worrying about Draco. Someone was in need, and he could help. The fact that that person was Draco Malfoy was a minor technicality. Who knew? Maybe this would lead to the repair of a relationship he never knew was worth saving.
While combing the shelves of the Hogwarts library for a book she believed to contain melodies to help with healing, Alina Terringer spotted Lucius Malfoy out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting at a table, reading a book. She was too far away to read the title, and she certainly didn't want to go anywhere near him, so she remained in place and tried to forget about him. As she looked for the book, she had the strangest feeling that she was being watched, so she glanced back at Lucius again. His eyes skimming across the pages of the book were his only movement. Not even a single strand of his flaxen hair was out of place. Alina narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, then returned to the task at hand.
"Can I help you, Professor?"
Alina nearly jumped at the sound of Irma Pince's voice. It must have been the librarian whose eyes she had felt. "It's all right, Madam Pince," she replied, spying the book she was looking for and pulling it off the shelf. "I found what I'm looking for."
Madam Pince's eyes glanced at the spine of the book. "'Remedial Properties of Music'," she read. "It seems the power of music knows no limits."
"It does have some," Alina said, "but I believe it to be the most encompassing of all fields of magic. I never even studied Potions, Charms, or Care of Magical Creatures during my last two years at Beauxbatons because Musical Enchantment included all of it."
"Is the statistic true?" inquired the Hogwarts librarian. "That only one in two million witches or wizards become Masters of Musical Enchantment?"
A small grin flickered on Alina's face. "Actually, it's one in two million, seven hundred ninety-six thousand, three hundred and four, but yes, something like that." Impulsively, she glanced over at Malfoy again. He moved to turn the page, but that was it.
Madam Pince saw her glancing over toward the tables, and wondered if something was going on. "Is everything all right, Professor?"
"That man, Lucius Malfoy," Alina said, and the librarian nodded. "What can you tell me about him?"
Madam Pince took a deep breath, then placed her hand on Alina's arm and led her over to another section of the library, one that was almost completely deserted. "I'll warn you now, Professor Terringer. Malfoy is trouble with a pedigree. Back in the seventies, a group of Hogwarts students decided that they were going to follow the Dark One. He was one of them. That time is over, but his abominable nature still remains. He hates Muggle-borns and half-bloods and does everything he can to prevent them from attending Hogwarts. I thought that, considering your lineage, you might want to keep your distance."
"You can say it, Madam Pince," Alina told her. "I'm a Muggle-born. It doesn't offend me. It's who I am, and it will never change. But I am also a witch, and that will never change, either."
Madam Pince continued. "He's a horrible, horrible man, Professor. He's got the Ministry of Magic wrapped around his little finger. He doesn't care about anyone, not even his son. The only thing he's interested in is passing on the family name. I'd stay as far away from him as possible if I were you."
It sounded like good advice, especially after what she saw of him yesterday. But at the same time, Dumbledore's words echoed in her mind. "They might be all the same, but we don't know everything about them." There must be more to Malfoy than there seemed.
"No, Albus, I do not agree with it at all!" shouted Minerva McGonagall later that day. "That man is not to be trusted!"
"Minerva, calm down," Dumbledore said, motioning downward with his hands for emphasis. "There is more going on here than meets the eye."
"It is not my eye this situation meets, it is my head," Minerva replied. "Lucius Malfoy is evil. We have never known him to be anything but evil. It's completely illogical that he would change his ways without warning."
"His family is dead," Dumbledore said, trying to remain calm. He was always much better at keeping his cool than the deputy headmistress. "That is powerful motivation."
"Have you ever known him to care about anyone, or anything?"
He wasn't quite sure how to reply. "Well… no…"
"My point exactly."
"But still…"
Minerva let out a long sigh. "You're a good man, Albus, but I fear your convictions cloud your judgment. Malfoy had his chance. He chose that life. He chose to follow the Dark Lord."
"He didn't choose to be betrayed."
"Maybe not, but he deserved it."
He knew it was pointless to argue with her. She always won. Just the same, though, Dumbledore thought her conclusion about Lucius was drawn too quickly. He didn't see what Malfoy could possibly gain from their protection, and his family was dead. That had to count for something. "Perhaps he did deserve it, but refusing to help him certainly won't turn him into a good man any sooner."
Minerva's deep brown eyes stared into his. "Do you really believe he's worth saving?"
"I believe that if we can save him, it will be worth it," Dumbledore replied.
A weary smile crossed her face. "I thought you'd say something like that. All right, I'll go with you on this one." The smile vanished, and was replaced by her usual stern expression. "But if he makes one wrong move, he's out. End of story."
Why not? It was a good compromise, and probably the only one he could get at this point. "Fair enough." He held out his right hand to confirm the arrangement with a handshake. Minerva gave him a suspicious look, but grasped his hand with hers. "Are we in agreement?"
"We are in agreement," Minerva answered.
The handshake was short and stiff, the handshake of two professionals who, although they may not always agree, held each other in the highest esteem, and with greater fondness than they were willing to admit, even to themselves. Dumbledore was the first to draw his hand away, but not after giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. Minerva tucked her right hand into her left, glanced at the floor momentarily, then said, "I need to work on my lesson plans for the next few days." Without another word, she was gone.
Dumbledore couldn't help smiling at her white lie. Minerva McGonagall's lesson plans were always done at least a week ahead of time.