Excerpt from the December 12th, 1981, edition of The Daily Prophet:
HEXBERG, MALFOY, OTHERS RELEASED FROM MINISTRY CUSTODY
By: Aaron Fenetre
WHITEHALL – Several accused Death Eaters were released from the Ministry of Magic's custody last night after having been arrested in early November.
"I am elated to hear that the Ministry has come to their senses and will no longer pursue these allegations that have been made not only against me, but some of my closest friends and colleagues," stated Lord Thorsten Hexberg, 29, as he addressed several reporters early this morning.
Lord Hexberg, a Hogwarts graduate who has penned several Daily Prophet bestselling books such as 'Lies Your History of Magic Professor Told You' and 'An Exhausting History of Blood Purity', was one of the first to be arrested after the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on Halloween night by the Boy Who Lived. Despite several people claiming to witness him actively partaking in heinous acts against both Muggles and Muggleborns, Lord Hexberg refuses these accusations by clarifying that he had been acting whilst under the Imperius Curse.
The claim has been corroborated by others such as Lord Lucius Malfoy. Lord Malfoy, 28, not only believed Lord Hexberg to be under the Imperius Curse but that he had been as well. Addressing the same reporters as Lord Hexberg, Lord Malfoy stated: "It is with great regret and a heavy heart that we find our hands bloodied by the horrendous acts that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his ilk had forced us into doing.
Others were released under similar pretenses, such as Ansel Leveret, 23; Lady Leone Foxglove, 49; Coriander Cassowary, 34; and Roswell Grey, 36.
"We have no conclusive evidence that states these particular people served for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named of their own free will," Lucinda Ravens, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, wrote in a press release. "It would set a dangerous precedent if we chose to prosecute them due to their actions whilst under the Imperius Curse. If any evidence is revealed in the future to negate these claims, then we will not hesitate to proceed with prosecution […] As it stands, however, Lord Malfoy and the others are innocent."
Lord Hexberg states that he intends to move back to his native country of Norway to care for his ailing father, Loki; moving with him will be his wife, Callista, and their two children. Lord Malfoy has no desire to leave Magical England, stating: "The Malfoy's are as much a part of England as Salazar Slytherin."
Magnus's POV :: June - September, 1994
Magnus wishes he had the gall to defy his father's wishes, just this once.
He doesn't and he's not going to because he knows it's useless. To try and convince Thorsten Hexberg of anything once he's made up his mind is like trying to convince a boulder to levitate without a wand. Stupid and useless.
That doesn't mean his rationale is entirely clear. Despite Father returning to work for the Ministry of Magic, this doesn't mean that the Hexberg children must attend Hogwarts. Durmstrang, Magnus's educational home for the last three years, allows wizarding children to attend so long as they live somewhere in Europe. Moving from Magical Norway to Magical Britain wouldn't make Headmaster Karkaroff so much as bat an eye.
However, two weeks into the summer holiday, Father made the announcement at dinner: the family would be moving to England and the children would be attending Hogwarts.
Magnus had to suppress a scowl when Father said this. He doesn't want to go to Hogwarts. He'd much rather stay at Durmstrang, where he is a Junior Leader in the Dueling Club and where his marks are impeccable. At Durmstrang, he has a close-knit group of friends that he's worked tirelessly to cultivate, to ensure they are friends that Father will approve of.
Now, all of that has been undone.
But he can't vocalize his frustration because Father doesn't care. And his siblings are over the moon about the change. Regina, his junior by eight minutes, is absolutely elated at the prospect of transferring to a school that placed greater importance on Transfiguration. Little Erik is only just now turning eleven; he has no attachment to Durmstrang and is merely content with going to any magical school.
So, Magnus doesn't complain. He knows better. Instead, he eats breakfast every morning with his family, before Father goes off to work and Mother goes off to gallivant with other wives of the rich, the famous, the Pureblooded. Regina will lock herself in her room in preparation for the upcoming term; Erik will play on his broomstick for most of the day.
And Magnus will come to terms with his transfer to Hogwarts.
At the end of June, Magnus receives a thick bundle of parchment from Hogwarts, which informs him of the schoolwork that needs to be completed before his fourth year began. This takes up a great deal of his free time; rather than racing around the backyard with Erik on their broomsticks, Magnus is relegated to either his bedroom or the library, writing essays about the properties of lavender and reading about orc wars from the sixteenth century.
He wrinkles his nose as he reads his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. This, in his opinion, will be the worst part of Hogwarts: no Dark Arts, only learning how to defend yourself against it.
What a bunch of wankers.
Magnus opens the window, breathing in the taste of dew and three days of rain and saltwater air. Norway is one of two homes that he knows and loves; the other is Durmstrang. It was there that he, along with many others from noble Pureblood families, have finally been able to come into their own.
At Durmstrang, your name only matters when attempting to procure internships, and that's during your final two years. Otherwise, professors and staff focus less on your lineage and more on your raw potential.
Durmstrang doesn't care that Magnus is Magnus Thorsten of the Ancient House Hexberg. Durmstrang doesn't care that his father is one of the most influential people in the Norwegian Magical Parliament. Durmstrang cares about how he is first in his year for Magical Politicks and Defensive Magic. Durmstrang cares that he was a damned good Keeper. Durmstrang cares that he can speak three different languages – English, Norwegian, Russian.
He likes that Durmstrang is impartial. They only care about how hard he works.
Now, he is being forcibly removed from all that and plopped into Hogwarts. Father is very proud of Hogwarts; not of his being an alumnus there but being a Slytherin alumni. Snakes adorn a disturbing amount of his décor and wardrove.
But Father is also the first to criticize Hogwarts and its' discrimination against Dark magic, its' utterly incompetent administration…in Magnus's second year at Durmstrang, all the letters he received from Father were dotted with admonishments at students being petrified left and right and the staffs' pitiful attempts at keeping it all under wraps.
And Father expects him to be eager to attend a school that isn't anywhere close to being as good as Durmstrang?
It isn't fair.
Well, there's one exception to that –
All the friends he actually grew up with will be there. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini and, of course, Draco Malfoy. Draco, who he has swapped letters with ever since they both began their magical education. Draco is eager to know all about Durmstrang, which is where he desperately wishes to be; Magnus cares little for Hogwarts but doesn't mind his long-winded, rambling letters about how stupid some of the staff are and how that Potter boy gets away with everything.
Gods, if Magnus has to deal with Harry Potter, he might throw himself off the roof of the castle.
It was Draco who sent him a letter congratulating him on his transfer. Well, congratulating is a bit of a misnomer. It was more so a "Sorry you're downgrading, but at least you've got me!" sort of letter. Magnus appreciates the warm welcome, nevertheless.
But while he likes Draco and Theodore and Blaise, they aren't his best friends. No, that's Anastasia Belikova and Per Kristiansen and Ivan Todorovski. Per and Ivan have been there for him through thick and thin, and Ana…
Ana is Ana.
Magnus frowns. He sits down at his desk and prepares to draft out three letters informing his friends of his abrupt transfer.
Each one of them is formally signed, Lord Magnus Thorsten Hexberg.
Manners are everything.
"It really won't be so bad," Regina says in a soft voice. "I think you'll come to like Hogwarts in time, Mag."
"You do not even know if you'll like Hogwarts, let alone me."
Magnus knows this is a lie. Regina is...different from the rest of the family. Her magical core isn't as Dark as his own. She's less inclined to focus on the Dark Arts or on Potions. Durmstrang was a struggle for her, in every way possible. She'll not only like Hogwarts, but she'll thrive there, even if she's sorted into Slytherin. Which she will be.
They all will. To be in any other House is unthinkable.
None of his Durmstrang friends send him any letters back.
Magnus is so torn up about this that tears begin to well up at the corners of his eyes. He has to sit in bed and take deep, calm, even breaths for the better part of fifteen minutes to suppress them.
Draco comes to visit, once or twice.
He is enthralled that his childhood best friend will be attending Hogwarts. Elated. Overjoyed.
"You're going to love the Slytherin Common Room," he says whilst they're playing a game of Gobstones. "And Hogsmeade is fun."
Magnus knows, vaguely, what the Slytherin Common Room looks like. It sounds decidedly less cozy than the Commons of Silen, the House he was sorted into at Durmstrang. Silen is warm and open; everything is tinged in shades of deep gold, and the couches around the fireplace are always perfectly comfortable.
"I bet it is," he says, wondering what the other common rooms are like.
The days leading up to September 1st are nerve-wracking and dreadful. Magnus and his father do not speak, nor do they truly attempt to; Thorsten spends most of his days working out his transfer between Ministries, and this takes up a significant amount of time. Frankly, the younger Hexberg prefers the lack of communication – it means there are fewer opportunities to further disappoint his father.
August 30th is a muggy, rainy day; this continues into the evening. After supper, one of the house-elves informs Magnus that 'Master Hexbergs requests the Tiny Masters presences, sir!', which means he's likely to receive a scathing speech before he's shipped off to Hogwarts.
Bloody Hogwarts.
Dread settles itself firmly in Magnus's stomach as he makes his way to Father's study. It's a grand old thing, much like the rest of the house, which he has been told on multiple occasions is at least five hundred years old. He has also been told that it will be relegated to being their summer home; the rest of the year, Father and Mother shall spend in a manor in northern England that Magnus cannot recall ever visiting.
"Father?" Magnus says as he opens the door, his voice soft.
His father looks up; he's been hunched over a thick stack of parchment, quill in hand. He takes his time as he puts the parchment and quill away, brings his wine glass closer to him.
"Magnus," Father says, "We have things to discuss."
"Yes, Father," he replies automatically.
"I expect you to be on your best behavior while at your new school," Father says, sipping from the glass. "No lollygagging, no talkback, no mischief of any sort. You represent the Hexberg lineage more prominently than your siblings, and my disappointment will be immeasurable if I hear otherwise."
None of this is news to him, nor is it surprising to hear. This is the same speech he received the night before he made the journey to Durmstrang.
"You also must look after your siblings," says Father, and that is new. "Regina is…easily persuaded. You know this. Do not allow her to become allies with those who are unfavourable. And Erik does not yet understand the inner workings of Slytherin. You must help him become more…resilient."
Magnus blinks. Attempting to dissuade Regina from something is even harder than debating with Father; that's going to be a challenge. But he's right on Erik. Erik is soft, delicate. He needs to toughen up, quickly, or the snakes will eat him alive.
He nods. "Yes, Father. I will ensure they represent the best of our family."
Father smiles, then, and it seems genuine. "I can always count on you, my son, to do as you're told."
Something swells up in Magnus's chest – pride? Happiness? Validation?
"Hogwarts is not nearly as wonderful as Durmstrang," continues his father, "but there are things you will learn there that you can't at your previous school. Slytherin will give you plenty of opportunities and advantages; you'd do well to carve out your place there. You will soon find that our world is changing, Magnus, and for the better."
He can't quite comprehend what his father means by that, but this isn't out of the norm. Thorsten Hexberg speaks in riddles and strange tongues. In another life, he would have made a wonderful Ravenclaw.
The wine glass is empty. "Your mother will see the three of you off. I cannot attend; I have prudent matters to discuss at the Ministry. I will be sending the three of you letters your first week at term. You are dismissed."
This is how every conversation between them ends: a swift, stunted dismissal from Father. But Magnus feels overwhelming relief, and he leaves before Father changes his mind.
"Aren't you excited to be in Slytherin?" Draco said, sounding as eager as he did when he was a child.
"I suppose," Magnus said tersely. He would much rather be on the way to Durmstrang, to retreat to the Silen dormitory after eating roasted pheasant and custard-filled pastries.
But here he is, on the Hogwarts Express. Regina has declined to sit with him, Draco, Theodore, and Blaise. Instead, she has chosen to sit in a different compartment, Erik sitting across from her.
Regina is an odd one, sometimes.
Theodore furrows his brow. "You suppose? Think you're better than the rest of us, having gone to Durmstrang?"
Yes, Magnus thinks, but doesn't say. Instead, he shakes his head.
"No," he says, "I am just missing my old friends."
"Ah," says Theo, but he doesn't continue.
The train ride is monopolized by Draco's rambling.
Magnus feels like a bloody fool, standing beside Regina, towering over the rest of the eleven-year-olds. He can feel the eyes of just about everyone on him rather than the first years. If he strains to listen, he thinks he can hear their hushed whispers, too. Erik has already talked more in the last ten minutes than Magnus has heard from him in the last three years; he's excitedly chatting with some dark-skinned lad about the results of the Quidditch World Cup, eyes wide as he recounts a play-by-play.
The Hat sings a song that Magnus has to suppress a cringe at. The Wizarding world is supposed to be serious, not…whimsical.
His stomach begins to churn more and more as Professor McGonagall and the Sorting Hat go through the list of first years. He much prefers the Durmstrang sorting, which relies on a combination of pure latent magic and most importantly, not being seen by the other students.
The Hat is on Erik's head for all of fifteen seconds when it lets out a bellowed "SLYTHERIN!". Draco whoops and hollers; he isn't close to Erik, but a Hexberg is a Hexberg.
When Professor McGonagall says "Hexberg, Magnus", he is suddenly quite aware that his legs feel like jam as he walks up to the seat. He first makes eye contact with Regina, then with Draco, and then –
The Sorting Hat is just large enough to cover his eyes. It smells terribly of mothballs and hair. Wrinkling his nose, Magnus tries his best to not think about the fact that everyone in the Great Hall is staring at him, probably murmuring amongst one another about why a teenaged boy and girl are being sorted.
'Ah, another Hexberg!'
'Can't you just put me in Slytherin and get on with it?' Magnus thinks-speaks; he's unsure if he's whispering to it or if he's simply thinking the words.
Nevertheless, the Sorting Hat responds immediately. 'Everyone in your family's been sorted there, haven't they?'
'Since 1824,' Magnus says.
'I'm afraid to say that Slytherin isn't the House for you. No, not one bit. It'd be like throwing a babe to the wolves.'
'Of course, it is – I belong there!' Anxiety begins to burble up in his stomach. Slytherin, not for him? Erik is less of a snake than he is! 'You must put me there!'
'It is against my nature to go against my instincts,' the Hat says simply. 'Besides, you've so many traits. You're a hard worker. You value intelligence, but impartiality, as well…Hmm, you could thrive in Ravenclaw…no, not at all Gryffindor…'
'Please. Please. Slytherin is the only House I want; you're supposed to take into consideration our preferences!'
'That is an exception, not the rule,' says the Hat.
'But I'm cunning, I'm ambitious, I'm-'
Before Magnus can continue to beg, the Sorting Hat bellows out to the rest of the Great Hall:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"