Post by potterknowitall on Jul 11, 2004 22:44:40 GMT -5
SilvePheonix - Destorying the Light
The candles filling the Great Hall were dim and flickering, like thousands of dull, squinting eyes. A pale boy with silver-blond hair rushed madly down the wide marble steps to see if he could catch the end of that evening’s meal, but instead he found himself colliding straight into none other than the venerated Headmaster at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. Draco fumbled around for a bit and the gaze of his frozen grey eyes rose up hesitantly toward the Headmaster, not really sure what to expect.
After what seemed like an eternity, Dumbledore spoke up, the usual magnetism in his voice lacking. “Mr. Malfoy, I would like very much to spend all my time chiding you, but unfortunately I myself have more important matters to which I must attend.”
Draco felt the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders. He was just about to continue on his way to the Great Hall, however, when Dumbledore suddenly grabbed his arm and led him into a dark classroom where Professor McGonagall was instructing a class on an advanced Transfiguration spell—or at least attempting to.
The entire classroom was packed with seventh years, who acted peculiarly like first years. As hefty leather-bound tomes were thrown about and wands were used to poke others without end, Dumbledore explained the situation to Draco in a serious tone.
“You see, Mr. Malfoy, with the gravity of all the occurrences here at Hogwarts—the mountain troll storming the school, the Basilisk bringing nightmares to the students, rumors of an escaped convict roaming the dormitories—the Ministry of Magic has been finding much complaint against Hogwarts. To make matter worse, there has been an obvious upsurge of racism against students who were not raised by a complete lineage of pure-bloods. Furthermore, our students have become known for nothing but breaking the rules and, as you can see, creating chaos. (Dumbledore promptly ducked as an ink jar came soaring towards his head, allowing the glass jar to shatter on the ground.) The Ministry believes that the sort of magic that we’re teaching is getting out of hand. Some students have been apparently using the spells to frighten the first years and torture small animals.” (At this point, Dumbledore glanced sidelong at Draco, who seemed to have smirked.)
Finally, Dumbledore said in a voice so quiet, it was disconcerting, “I just thought you might like to know, Mr. Malfoy, that the Ministry has issued a new decree: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—and anything, in fact, relating to it—must be burned down.”
This seemed to spark Draco’s interest slightly. “Burned? Well, what about the students and professors? For surely, if you plan to burn me, you’ll be hearing from my father faster than you can say ‘butterbeer.’”
“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” sighed Dumbledore exasperatedly. “As much of a disappointment this must be, not everything is about you. We have greater problems to confront at the moment. Besides, the Ministry has already mandated that all wizards and witches from Hogwarts are to be stored in the British Museum of Myths and Legends. Anyone who refuses, of course, has an alternative option: to travel to the nearest pond, lake, or sea to drown himself.” Dumbledore seemed unusually calm.
Draco, on the other hand, was both fuming and terrified at the same time. He snapped back sarcastically, “So let’s weigh our options, shall we? We get to either sit behind a glass casing like a freak or drown ourselves. Decisions, decisions!”
“Well, according to the Ministry, everything at Hogwarts is just too eccentric, and as much as I have come to love this school, I must say that they are quite right. When this is all over and done with, I will no longer have to worry about Harry Potter going on midnight escapades to save the world from certain evils; potential Death Eaters wandering the halls; or the need to rush into classes to keep young students from being eaten by a mad Hippogriff. No more of this magical nonsense…yes, that will keep all of our lives simple and ethical, like it used to be. Feet will stay on the ground, where they belong, without any care to experience freedom, spirit, or astonishment above the clouds. Minds will remain focused on more practical knowledge, like memorizing formulas and ancient historical facts, not interpreting our dreams and practicing self-discovery. If you can possibly think of a better solution, Mr. Malfoy, I’d like to hear it, as I’m sure the Ministry would.”
Draco shuddered, and for just a second it seemed as though his eyes blazed of the purest azure crystal. He just could not believe that all his dedication and aspirations at Hogwarts would be thrown away so carelessly. He did not want to believe it. He would never be able to see how far he could’ve gotten, how much he could’ve achieved, just because a select group of wizards decided—without even attempting to ever visit and see what the truth of the matter was—that the magic at Hogwarts was evil. Had they forgotten so quickly that it was this magic that saved those Muggles from impending doom? Had it slipped from their mind that it was this magic that had recuperated countless students from painful injuries? But more importantly, these select Ministry wizards did not understand that Hogwarts School wasn’t just an institution to learn about magic, potions, and spells. It was the real world, where students learned how to stand up for their beliefs, to test their loyalty to their friends, to prove their ambitions in all areas of life. “Hogwarts School should be praised and honored by both wizards and Muggles alike,” thought Draco genuinely. “It has taught me more than I will ever learn from my parents or from any other outside source. Why can’t the Ministry just learn to accept Hogwarts and realize that it’s more than just magic? It’s a way of life, full of love, loyalty, and dedication.”
Suddenly Draco shook himself upright again, back to his usual cold aloofness. He glared icily at Dumbledore with his typical malicious sneer and then stormed off, muttering under his breath as he left. “Why should it matter to me if Hogwarts closed down, anyways? I can always transfer to Durmstrang.”
The candles filling the Great Hall were dim and flickering, like thousands of dull, squinting eyes. A pale boy with silver-blond hair rushed madly down the wide marble steps to see if he could catch the end of that evening’s meal, but instead he found himself colliding straight into none other than the venerated Headmaster at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. Draco fumbled around for a bit and the gaze of his frozen grey eyes rose up hesitantly toward the Headmaster, not really sure what to expect.
After what seemed like an eternity, Dumbledore spoke up, the usual magnetism in his voice lacking. “Mr. Malfoy, I would like very much to spend all my time chiding you, but unfortunately I myself have more important matters to which I must attend.”
Draco felt the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders. He was just about to continue on his way to the Great Hall, however, when Dumbledore suddenly grabbed his arm and led him into a dark classroom where Professor McGonagall was instructing a class on an advanced Transfiguration spell—or at least attempting to.
The entire classroom was packed with seventh years, who acted peculiarly like first years. As hefty leather-bound tomes were thrown about and wands were used to poke others without end, Dumbledore explained the situation to Draco in a serious tone.
“You see, Mr. Malfoy, with the gravity of all the occurrences here at Hogwarts—the mountain troll storming the school, the Basilisk bringing nightmares to the students, rumors of an escaped convict roaming the dormitories—the Ministry of Magic has been finding much complaint against Hogwarts. To make matter worse, there has been an obvious upsurge of racism against students who were not raised by a complete lineage of pure-bloods. Furthermore, our students have become known for nothing but breaking the rules and, as you can see, creating chaos. (Dumbledore promptly ducked as an ink jar came soaring towards his head, allowing the glass jar to shatter on the ground.) The Ministry believes that the sort of magic that we’re teaching is getting out of hand. Some students have been apparently using the spells to frighten the first years and torture small animals.” (At this point, Dumbledore glanced sidelong at Draco, who seemed to have smirked.)
Finally, Dumbledore said in a voice so quiet, it was disconcerting, “I just thought you might like to know, Mr. Malfoy, that the Ministry has issued a new decree: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—and anything, in fact, relating to it—must be burned down.”
This seemed to spark Draco’s interest slightly. “Burned? Well, what about the students and professors? For surely, if you plan to burn me, you’ll be hearing from my father faster than you can say ‘butterbeer.’”
“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” sighed Dumbledore exasperatedly. “As much of a disappointment this must be, not everything is about you. We have greater problems to confront at the moment. Besides, the Ministry has already mandated that all wizards and witches from Hogwarts are to be stored in the British Museum of Myths and Legends. Anyone who refuses, of course, has an alternative option: to travel to the nearest pond, lake, or sea to drown himself.” Dumbledore seemed unusually calm.
Draco, on the other hand, was both fuming and terrified at the same time. He snapped back sarcastically, “So let’s weigh our options, shall we? We get to either sit behind a glass casing like a freak or drown ourselves. Decisions, decisions!”
“Well, according to the Ministry, everything at Hogwarts is just too eccentric, and as much as I have come to love this school, I must say that they are quite right. When this is all over and done with, I will no longer have to worry about Harry Potter going on midnight escapades to save the world from certain evils; potential Death Eaters wandering the halls; or the need to rush into classes to keep young students from being eaten by a mad Hippogriff. No more of this magical nonsense…yes, that will keep all of our lives simple and ethical, like it used to be. Feet will stay on the ground, where they belong, without any care to experience freedom, spirit, or astonishment above the clouds. Minds will remain focused on more practical knowledge, like memorizing formulas and ancient historical facts, not interpreting our dreams and practicing self-discovery. If you can possibly think of a better solution, Mr. Malfoy, I’d like to hear it, as I’m sure the Ministry would.”
Draco shuddered, and for just a second it seemed as though his eyes blazed of the purest azure crystal. He just could not believe that all his dedication and aspirations at Hogwarts would be thrown away so carelessly. He did not want to believe it. He would never be able to see how far he could’ve gotten, how much he could’ve achieved, just because a select group of wizards decided—without even attempting to ever visit and see what the truth of the matter was—that the magic at Hogwarts was evil. Had they forgotten so quickly that it was this magic that saved those Muggles from impending doom? Had it slipped from their mind that it was this magic that had recuperated countless students from painful injuries? But more importantly, these select Ministry wizards did not understand that Hogwarts School wasn’t just an institution to learn about magic, potions, and spells. It was the real world, where students learned how to stand up for their beliefs, to test their loyalty to their friends, to prove their ambitions in all areas of life. “Hogwarts School should be praised and honored by both wizards and Muggles alike,” thought Draco genuinely. “It has taught me more than I will ever learn from my parents or from any other outside source. Why can’t the Ministry just learn to accept Hogwarts and realize that it’s more than just magic? It’s a way of life, full of love, loyalty, and dedication.”
Suddenly Draco shook himself upright again, back to his usual cold aloofness. He glared icily at Dumbledore with his typical malicious sneer and then stormed off, muttering under his breath as he left. “Why should it matter to me if Hogwarts closed down, anyways? I can always transfer to Durmstrang.”