Seven Little Sermons

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Lucious Malfoy woke to a loud banging on his door. He quickly robed himself and moved to the parlor, ready to comfort the idiot Fudge, and push some more propaganda onto him.

However, when he got there, he was greeted by two Hogwarts professors.

Quirrell and Snape sat awkwardly on opposite sides of the room. Snape was glaring at the other professor, who was stuttering through polite small talk.

Lucious sighed, before sitting down on a dark blue sofa between the two of them.

"Hello sirs. May I do anything for you?"

"Yes." drawled Snape, "I came to inform you that your son is in the hospital ward. He was attacked by Miss Hermione Granger after he and Mister Longbottom broke into the forbidden corridor. He should be out within the week. As soon as we figure out what sort of spells she used."

Lucious frowned. He was plotting revenge.

"I expect the perpetrator—Granger, you said? A mudblood then—will be punished accordingly?"

"I don't believe so. Seeing as they were all in an area that was strictly off limits, and Draco was carrying a bloody body, I believe that the headmaster will decide Miss Granger deserves no punishment. You know how he is."

Lucious's frown turned to a carefully veiled look of disgust.

"If I had known you were already sent to inform Mr. Malfoy, Professor Snape, I wouldn't have come." Stuttered out Quirrellmort. He hadn't know that Draco was injured, of course, but it was a good excuse to have come without revealing the truth about himself. "While I'm here, though, may we talk about Draco's school work?"

"Of course. Severus, you should go back." said Lucious, only mildly disgusted to talk with the former muggle studies professor.

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy! I just wanted to say, your son is quite gifted. His 'fluffernicus' is especially good, you must have taught him yourself."

"I'm not familiar with that spell actually, though it doesn't surprise me that Draco excels in your class." Said Lucious, pleased by this news.

"Oh, you don't know it? There was a more high powered version I was going to ask you to show your son. Do you mind if I show you?" the professor stuttered, drawing his wand already. Then, with a lazy flick of his wand, he had Malfoy writhing on the floor from the cruciatus.

Dumbledore's bright blue eyes peered curiously at the first year sat in front of him.

"Mister Potter..." he started gently, "could you please tell me what happened tonight?"

Harry frowned. Dumbledore hadn't offered him a lemon drop.

"I broke into the third floor corridor so I could hook up with my soulmate. And then I got stood up! Can you believe it? Me! I got stood up. You sit through a year of your boyfriend's lectures, and when you try and kiss him, all the cares about is some stupid rock. Listen, it's only been eight-hundred or so years. That's way to soon to get engaged. Plus, I'm the hot one. He's cute, but I'm magma that's been showered in ghost peppers and lit on fire. I swear-"

"My boy, are you suggesting that you had a relationship with one of the teachers?"

"I always have to do all the romantic things, and I'm always the one who gets hurt. Honestly, I get that he wants to kill me, and I know he hated my dad, but I'm starting to think he's just using me to take his anger out on!"

Dumbledore made a mental note to have a long conversation with Snape.

"Thank you for trusting me with this Harry. I'll deal with it right away. The mirror, in the room you were in, it held a priceless artifact. Do you know..."

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