Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Let's Try That Again, Shall We?
The Harry Potter universe is the creation of J.K. Rowling. This is fanfiction. The standard disclaimers apply.
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Chapter 26: Lucius Malfoy
Tuesday, November 6, 1990
Professor Eeles was holding the first-year Defense class outside again, for another 'practical exercise'. He had spent last week getting the students to the point where they could cast a simple shield spell. Today he had paired them off again (with members of their own houses—he wasn't stupid!) and was having them throw rocks at each other. It had recently rained, so there was a lot of mud and gravel flying around.
Oren, who had never been any good at this sort of thing the first time around, was concentrating on holding his shield in the path of whatever Bernard flung at him, when he heard a familiar voice behind him. Oren motioned to Bernard to lay off, and turned around to see Lucius Malfoy shaking the hand of the Defense Professor.
"Hello. I do not believe we have met. I'm Lucius Malfoy, from the Hogwarts Board of Governors."
Eeles, who had never heard of Malfoy before, gave a wide smile and clasped the man's hand in a firm handshake. "Erasmus Eeles. This year's Defense Professor. Pleased to meet you. Come around to inspect the school, eh? Checking up on us?"
"Yes, in fact. I have to say, gravel doesn't exactly seem like the Dark Arts. Wouldn't it make more sense to teach the children to defend against actual spells?"
"Sure, if you don't mind them freezing up if they ever get in a fight with a muggle." Oren admired Mr. Malfoy, but he had to admit it was fun to watch Eeles leave him speechless. "Or," he said, misinterpreting Malfoy's look of surprise, "if you don't think that's a fit subject for us to be talking about, they still might wind up facing something that spits, or really any sort of physical threat. They need to know what magic can do in order to use it when they need it."
Eeles had, a few seconds after meeting him, managed to accuse Malfoy of being oversensitive to muggles. "No, Mr. Eeles, that's quite alright. I had heard through some of these boys parents—yes, hello," he waved to several of the Slytherins "that you had them shooting skeet. I don't suppose you have a similar justification for that, do you?"
"Well, mainly it's that most targets don't stand still, and I wanted to drive home the need to know how fast their spells travel. If you're looking for the Dark Arts angle on this, don't look at me—I'm teaching a generic defense class. You know, the regular textbooks are full of things these kids will never see. I don't know why you keep insisting on using them."
"I must admit, Mr. Eeles, to never having looked into any of the Hogwarts curriculum in that detail. Perhaps I should?"
"Well, I think it's a mess. Full of useless requirements that somebody on your board put in there for political reasons, or maybe to fill in gaps after they took out the useful stuff they didn't like. Of course, I'm only here for a year, and my visa runs out after that, so it's not like anybody's going to listen to me. You, though," he said, grinning and pointing at Malfoy, "could do some real good around here if you got involved. Assuming you don't have some political agenda that makes you want the kids to spend a week learning about iguanas or something."
"Iguanas?" Lucius was smiling. It wasn't every day he got to meet someone who had never heard of him.
"Don't take my word for it—look in the books! Three quarters of it, I have no idea why it's there. Total mystery. As you can see, I decided to ignore it. No offense meant if, you know, you're partial to iguanas, or didn't like my remark about muggles, of course."
Oren had been waiting to see how Mr. Malfoy would handle explaining that no, he was okay with the idea of wizards protecting themselves against muggles. To his surprise, this never happened. Lucius just smiled, and said "you're a remarkable man, Mr. Eeles."
"Erasmus, please."
"Of course. And Lucius will do for me, too." They shook hands. "I wonder . . . is there anything else you think I should look into?"
"Hm. Oh, the Divination Professor created quite a stir recently. I think it was brilliant, personally, and I know Severus agrees, but it was pretty controversial." Eeles continued grinning, watching Malfoy's eyebrows rise in curiosity. "Oh, I won't spoil it—go ask her yourself! She's shy, but you seem like a nice enough guy—I bet you can get her talking."
"I think I will go do that. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Erasmus."
"Likewise, Lucius. Good luck!"
Oren wondered when the last time was that anyone had wished 'good luck' to Lucius Malfoy, let alone meant it sincerely.
"Okay, all of you, get back to the exercise. Go on!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Lucius arrived in the Divination classroom, he found it empty. He had taken a year of Divination before dropping it; he lacked any gift for it, and the teacher at the time was useless anyway. The classroom was familiar, though. He decided to have a look around.
The furnishings were approximately as he remembered them. Trelawney had added some cushions and a few cheap knick-knacks, and the old oriental rugs looked a little more threadbare in places. The shelves held the same array of teacups and crystal balls that they had when he was a student.
The lingering smell of incense was new, and made him want to sneeze. He cast a few air-freshening charms; no one would notice. "Now, if my memory serves me, her quarters should be back here through this anteroom . . ." The next room mostly contained empty shelves and counters. There was a pile of boards on the floor, but he couldn't make out their purposes. He knocked on the next door.
"Professor Trelawney? Are you in there? It's Lucius Malfoy, from the Board of Governors. I'd like to have a word with you."
After a moment's consideration, he realized that might not have been the best choice of words to get her to come out. Perhaps he could catch her some other time, or just send her a note. Yes, a note might be less intimidating, and in the meantime he could ask Severus about the situation.
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Even if Sybill hadn't been terrified of Malfoy already, she hadn't wanted him to smell the alcohol on her breath. She really should find a charm to hide that, she thought—surely someone must have created one. In any case, she would have to ask Dumbledore about Malfoy. He hadn't sounded upset—it seemed like he was in a good mood, actually—but that didn't mean things were going to go well for her.
At dinner that night, Sybill almost expected to find Malfoy seated next to her at the faculty table, ready to grill her about her teaching methods in the hopes of finding a reason to have her fired. He had probably heard about the extispicy lesson—it was ridiculous for her to think that wouldn't cause problems for her. Maybe she should reconsider her other plans. But Pomona had already gone to a lot of effort for her already! They had put in several more hours trying to narrow down mushroom species, and the first-years had already planted the mandrake seeds. Hopefully no one would say anything to her about it today; she didn't think she could take more anxiety.
It looked like the other professors were distracted by giving Eeles grief about his teaching methods, so she would be off the hook for now. At least Eeles could stand up for himself, and was anyway too oblivious to know when someone was trying to pick on him.
"So, Erasmus, rocks today, was it?" Dumbledore asked, taking a piece of chicken from the serving plate.
Eeles smiled cheerfully. "Well, the ground was pretty wet, so there was a lot of mud, too, but that was the basic idea, yes."
"Rocks?" asked Flitwick, sounding amused.
"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore, "he had the first-years throwing rocks at one another today."
"Come on Albus, it's not like I had them paired up across houses this time. And they were all good sports about it."
"But," asked Filius, "what exactly was this supposed to accomplish?"
"What, throwing rocks? Practicing shield spells, of course. It's how I learned it. Of course, I understand you people prefer to stick to spells alone. You know, I had a visit from one of your Board of Governors during that class—name was Lucius Malfoy—seemed like a nice enough fellow, although I think I managed to shock him a little."
Several of the professors looked like they were about to choke.
"Oh dear. What on earth did you say to him, Erasmus?" asked Sprout, from the other side of him.
"Oh, I think he was trying to give me a hard time about not using spells, and I said the first thing that came to mind, which was that just spells was fine, if you don't mind the kids freezing up if they ever get in a fight with a muggle. It was like I broke some sort of secret taboo, and he didn't know what to say to the uncouth foreigner. Really, you British are so damn twitchy when it comes to wizard/muggle relations. Oh, sure, laugh at me.
I just hope he didn't take it the wrong way, and now the Board of Governors will all think I'm here training your next Grindelmort. Am I missing something here?"
Dumbledore managed to recover, and decided he probably ought to explain. "I wonder, Erasmus, did you try backing up after you said that, trying to reassure him that you didn't hate muggles, that sort of thing?"
"I think I was a little defensive at first, and fed him some other reasons for using rocks, since he didn't like the one about muggles. But later I said something like 'no offense meant'."
"Hm. How to put this. Lucius Malfoy is a . . . controversial figure. He's heavily involved in politics, and his faction doesn't have a very positive view of muggles. I expect he's never had the experience of someone assuming the opposite about him, and was at a loss for words."
Hagrid clarified. "We're laughin' at Malfoy, not you! Well, mostly."
"Oh Severus!" Pomona leaned over her plate so she could see down the table. "I was asked the most interesting question yesterday. The student said you sent her to me. She said you didn't know the answer." Severus' grim expression only encouraged her. "Now, I know at least three potions for that, not that she needs any herself, but I could send you the formulas, if you like! Oh yes, Minerva, she said you had tried to help her, too, before sending her to Severus."
"It is his area of expertise."
"A very reasonable assumption, I think. But the young lady said he seemed rather uncomfortable with the topic. If you were afraid she might hurt herself, you needn't worry. All three of the potions are safe and easy to brew, and they have effects that wear off on their own, too! You know, it would be a good way to get your students to pay attention in class."
Madam Pomfrey had no idea what this was about, other than a way to embarrass Snape. That was good enough. "Severus, you really ought to consider teaching some less hazardous potions, at least to the first years. A first year could brew these, right, Pomona?"
"Certainly!"
"There you go. Who needs to know how to brew the draught of the living death at age eleven?! Really, if you had to see the kinds of things I have to treat as a result of your lessons, instead of just whisking them off to the hospital wing and never checking up on them . . . why not consider teaching potions that the students actually ask about?"
"She does have a point, Severus," chimed in Dumbledore. "We can't get so set in our ways that we resist positive innovations, and you shouldn't underestimate the value of inherently interesting subject matter. We are a school of magic, after all—no sense denying that we can have fun with it, too."
Flitwick, looking back and forth, asked "Albus, what is this about, anyway?"
"Oh, I haven't the foggiest idea! I do need to keep up appearances as a meddling old wizard, after all, and besides, it's always fascinating to see what happens when I weigh in on topics about which I know nothing whatsoever."
"May we all be such honest meddling old wizards. So, Severus, are you going to explain what it is that you are so uncomfortable about, or shall we have Pomona and Minerva do it?"
"Very well. But let me be clear at the outset that I have no intention of including this in my curriculum. And, Albus, I also suggested she go ask you, but perhaps you were . . . more intimidating, since I can't imagine she doubted your knowledge of such a truly important topic as breast-enlarging potions."
Pomona smiled sweetly. "It is noisy in here, you know, and I don't think Hagrid and Septima could hear you down at the far end of the table. Perhaps you could speak up?"
"No."
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Author's note:
I dislike the way all that italics looks, but the characters talk like that in my mind's ear. For now, I'm leaving it as is, but I'll try to be more careful in the future.
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Chapter 26: Lucius Malfoy
Tuesday, November 6, 1990
Professor Eeles was holding the first-year Defense class outside again, for another 'practical exercise'. He had spent last week getting the students to the point where they could cast a simple shield spell. Today he had paired them off again (with members of their own houses—he wasn't stupid!) and was having them throw rocks at each other. It had recently rained, so there was a lot of mud and gravel flying around.
Oren, who had never been any good at this sort of thing the first time around, was concentrating on holding his shield in the path of whatever Bernard flung at him, when he heard a familiar voice behind him. Oren motioned to Bernard to lay off, and turned around to see Lucius Malfoy shaking the hand of the Defense Professor.
"Hello. I do not believe we have met. I'm Lucius Malfoy, from the Hogwarts Board of Governors."
Eeles, who had never heard of Malfoy before, gave a wide smile and clasped the man's hand in a firm handshake. "Erasmus Eeles. This year's Defense Professor. Pleased to meet you. Come around to inspect the school, eh? Checking up on us?"
"Yes, in fact. I have to say, gravel doesn't exactly seem like the Dark Arts. Wouldn't it make more sense to teach the children to defend against actual spells?"
"Sure, if you don't mind them freezing up if they ever get in a fight with a muggle." Oren admired Mr. Malfoy, but he had to admit it was fun to watch Eeles leave him speechless. "Or," he said, misinterpreting Malfoy's look of surprise, "if you don't think that's a fit subject for us to be talking about, they still might wind up facing something that spits, or really any sort of physical threat. They need to know what magic can do in order to use it when they need it."
Eeles had, a few seconds after meeting him, managed to accuse Malfoy of being oversensitive to muggles. "No, Mr. Eeles, that's quite alright. I had heard through some of these boys parents—yes, hello," he waved to several of the Slytherins "that you had them shooting skeet. I don't suppose you have a similar justification for that, do you?"
"Well, mainly it's that most targets don't stand still, and I wanted to drive home the need to know how fast their spells travel. If you're looking for the Dark Arts angle on this, don't look at me—I'm teaching a generic defense class. You know, the regular textbooks are full of things these kids will never see. I don't know why you keep insisting on using them."
"I must admit, Mr. Eeles, to never having looked into any of the Hogwarts curriculum in that detail. Perhaps I should?"
"Well, I think it's a mess. Full of useless requirements that somebody on your board put in there for political reasons, or maybe to fill in gaps after they took out the useful stuff they didn't like. Of course, I'm only here for a year, and my visa runs out after that, so it's not like anybody's going to listen to me. You, though," he said, grinning and pointing at Malfoy, "could do some real good around here if you got involved. Assuming you don't have some political agenda that makes you want the kids to spend a week learning about iguanas or something."
"Iguanas?" Lucius was smiling. It wasn't every day he got to meet someone who had never heard of him.
"Don't take my word for it—look in the books! Three quarters of it, I have no idea why it's there. Total mystery. As you can see, I decided to ignore it. No offense meant if, you know, you're partial to iguanas, or didn't like my remark about muggles, of course."
Oren had been waiting to see how Mr. Malfoy would handle explaining that no, he was okay with the idea of wizards protecting themselves against muggles. To his surprise, this never happened. Lucius just smiled, and said "you're a remarkable man, Mr. Eeles."
"Erasmus, please."
"Of course. And Lucius will do for me, too." They shook hands. "I wonder . . . is there anything else you think I should look into?"
"Hm. Oh, the Divination Professor created quite a stir recently. I think it was brilliant, personally, and I know Severus agrees, but it was pretty controversial." Eeles continued grinning, watching Malfoy's eyebrows rise in curiosity. "Oh, I won't spoil it—go ask her yourself! She's shy, but you seem like a nice enough guy—I bet you can get her talking."
"I think I will go do that. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Erasmus."
"Likewise, Lucius. Good luck!"
Oren wondered when the last time was that anyone had wished 'good luck' to Lucius Malfoy, let alone meant it sincerely.
"Okay, all of you, get back to the exercise. Go on!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Lucius arrived in the Divination classroom, he found it empty. He had taken a year of Divination before dropping it; he lacked any gift for it, and the teacher at the time was useless anyway. The classroom was familiar, though. He decided to have a look around.
The furnishings were approximately as he remembered them. Trelawney had added some cushions and a few cheap knick-knacks, and the old oriental rugs looked a little more threadbare in places. The shelves held the same array of teacups and crystal balls that they had when he was a student.
The lingering smell of incense was new, and made him want to sneeze. He cast a few air-freshening charms; no one would notice. "Now, if my memory serves me, her quarters should be back here through this anteroom . . ." The next room mostly contained empty shelves and counters. There was a pile of boards on the floor, but he couldn't make out their purposes. He knocked on the next door.
"Professor Trelawney? Are you in there? It's Lucius Malfoy, from the Board of Governors. I'd like to have a word with you."
After a moment's consideration, he realized that might not have been the best choice of words to get her to come out. Perhaps he could catch her some other time, or just send her a note. Yes, a note might be less intimidating, and in the meantime he could ask Severus about the situation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Even if Sybill hadn't been terrified of Malfoy already, she hadn't wanted him to smell the alcohol on her breath. She really should find a charm to hide that, she thought—surely someone must have created one. In any case, she would have to ask Dumbledore about Malfoy. He hadn't sounded upset—it seemed like he was in a good mood, actually—but that didn't mean things were going to go well for her.
At dinner that night, Sybill almost expected to find Malfoy seated next to her at the faculty table, ready to grill her about her teaching methods in the hopes of finding a reason to have her fired. He had probably heard about the extispicy lesson—it was ridiculous for her to think that wouldn't cause problems for her. Maybe she should reconsider her other plans. But Pomona had already gone to a lot of effort for her already! They had put in several more hours trying to narrow down mushroom species, and the first-years had already planted the mandrake seeds. Hopefully no one would say anything to her about it today; she didn't think she could take more anxiety.
It looked like the other professors were distracted by giving Eeles grief about his teaching methods, so she would be off the hook for now. At least Eeles could stand up for himself, and was anyway too oblivious to know when someone was trying to pick on him.
"So, Erasmus, rocks today, was it?" Dumbledore asked, taking a piece of chicken from the serving plate.
Eeles smiled cheerfully. "Well, the ground was pretty wet, so there was a lot of mud, too, but that was the basic idea, yes."
"Rocks?" asked Flitwick, sounding amused.
"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore, "he had the first-years throwing rocks at one another today."
"Come on Albus, it's not like I had them paired up across houses this time. And they were all good sports about it."
"But," asked Filius, "what exactly was this supposed to accomplish?"
"What, throwing rocks? Practicing shield spells, of course. It's how I learned it. Of course, I understand you people prefer to stick to spells alone. You know, I had a visit from one of your Board of Governors during that class—name was Lucius Malfoy—seemed like a nice enough fellow, although I think I managed to shock him a little."
Several of the professors looked like they were about to choke.
"Oh dear. What on earth did you say to him, Erasmus?" asked Sprout, from the other side of him.
"Oh, I think he was trying to give me a hard time about not using spells, and I said the first thing that came to mind, which was that just spells was fine, if you don't mind the kids freezing up if they ever get in a fight with a muggle. It was like I broke some sort of secret taboo, and he didn't know what to say to the uncouth foreigner. Really, you British are so damn twitchy when it comes to wizard/muggle relations. Oh, sure, laugh at me.
I just hope he didn't take it the wrong way, and now the Board of Governors will all think I'm here training your next Grindelmort. Am I missing something here?"
Dumbledore managed to recover, and decided he probably ought to explain. "I wonder, Erasmus, did you try backing up after you said that, trying to reassure him that you didn't hate muggles, that sort of thing?"
"I think I was a little defensive at first, and fed him some other reasons for using rocks, since he didn't like the one about muggles. But later I said something like 'no offense meant'."
"Hm. How to put this. Lucius Malfoy is a . . . controversial figure. He's heavily involved in politics, and his faction doesn't have a very positive view of muggles. I expect he's never had the experience of someone assuming the opposite about him, and was at a loss for words."
Hagrid clarified. "We're laughin' at Malfoy, not you! Well, mostly."
"Oh Severus!" Pomona leaned over her plate so she could see down the table. "I was asked the most interesting question yesterday. The student said you sent her to me. She said you didn't know the answer." Severus' grim expression only encouraged her. "Now, I know at least three potions for that, not that she needs any herself, but I could send you the formulas, if you like! Oh yes, Minerva, she said you had tried to help her, too, before sending her to Severus."
"It is his area of expertise."
"A very reasonable assumption, I think. But the young lady said he seemed rather uncomfortable with the topic. If you were afraid she might hurt herself, you needn't worry. All three of the potions are safe and easy to brew, and they have effects that wear off on their own, too! You know, it would be a good way to get your students to pay attention in class."
Madam Pomfrey had no idea what this was about, other than a way to embarrass Snape. That was good enough. "Severus, you really ought to consider teaching some less hazardous potions, at least to the first years. A first year could brew these, right, Pomona?"
"Certainly!"
"There you go. Who needs to know how to brew the draught of the living death at age eleven?! Really, if you had to see the kinds of things I have to treat as a result of your lessons, instead of just whisking them off to the hospital wing and never checking up on them . . . why not consider teaching potions that the students actually ask about?"
"She does have a point, Severus," chimed in Dumbledore. "We can't get so set in our ways that we resist positive innovations, and you shouldn't underestimate the value of inherently interesting subject matter. We are a school of magic, after all—no sense denying that we can have fun with it, too."
Flitwick, looking back and forth, asked "Albus, what is this about, anyway?"
"Oh, I haven't the foggiest idea! I do need to keep up appearances as a meddling old wizard, after all, and besides, it's always fascinating to see what happens when I weigh in on topics about which I know nothing whatsoever."
"May we all be such honest meddling old wizards. So, Severus, are you going to explain what it is that you are so uncomfortable about, or shall we have Pomona and Minerva do it?"
"Very well. But let me be clear at the outset that I have no intention of including this in my curriculum. And, Albus, I also suggested she go ask you, but perhaps you were . . . more intimidating, since I can't imagine she doubted your knowledge of such a truly important topic as breast-enlarging potions."
Pomona smiled sweetly. "It is noisy in here, you know, and I don't think Hagrid and Septima could hear you down at the far end of the table. Perhaps you could speak up?"
"No."
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Author's note:
I dislike the way all that italics looks, but the characters talk like that in my mind's ear. For now, I'm leaving it as is, but I'll try to be more careful in the future.
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