When Lucius Malfoy was informed by Dobby that there were guests at the door, he left his happy living room to greet them.
Only after he was out of sight from his wife and son did he allow his mind to settle into despair. He had been dreading this moment ever since he received his 'special' orders from the Dark Lord, though he did not think the time would come so soon, if indeed it had come.
"If you have at least one child attending Hogwarts," the Dark Lord had said last night to the assembly of every Death Eater not in Azkaban, "leave now and continue to pretend that you were under the Imperius. Be in public places tonight – the Leaky Cauldron, for instance, if it would not seem strange for you to show up at an odd hour. Perhaps you could give the excuse of one last night out before your children come back. It should be most convincing if you have undeniable alibi in the next hour. If you are normally a recluse, do not go out of your way to gain an alibi. Do not arouse suspicion with unusual activity. Mr. White, ensure the Imperius narrative is reinforced no matter what happens this night. Those of you with seats on the Wizengamot, vote and act as you normally would in the near future, unless ordered otherwise. Now leave and await future orders. The codeword will be basilisk if I cannot appear directly. The rest of you, follow me to our second gathering place..."
In other words, it was either by luck or by design that Lucius and the other parents among the Death Eaters had been spared participation in last night's raid.
If it was luck, if Voldemort had not foreseen the Patronus of the Boy-Who-Lived and truly died, Lucius hoped his Lord had not implemented a kill-spell in the case of his defeat. Although it probably would be worked into the Mark, and even if it hadn't, it probably would have gone off by now, so Lucius likely hadn't been spared by luck.
More than a kill spell, Lucius feared that the Dark Lord, once again, had not truly died, and even more than that, Lucius feared that Voldemort had not truly failed. If this was all part of some cunning design, and the one at the door was about to give him his future orders…
His love was returned to him, his family finally reunited, and he could only hope it would stay that way. Lucius Malfoy did not wish this life on his son – the life of servitude to a Lord as terrible as Voldemort. He much preferred what he'd had the last ten years: his careful and progressing politics against Dumbledore.
Crabbe opened the door to the manor, Goyle standing guard as he did.
In the doorway stood David Monroe, who met his gaze equably, and Harry Potter, who was gazing at the manor in wonderment.
"Now this is a big house," said Harry Potter, sounding impressed.
"Big enough to fit a basilisk," nodded David Monroe, still meeting Lucius's gaze. Lucius's Mark itched briefly when 'basilisk' was spoken.
So much for hoping.
"I apologize for intruding," Monroe began, "but Mr. Potter wished to speak with your son, and I thought to offer them an escort back to Hogwarts for the Leave-Taking-Feast. Would you have us for tea?"
"Of course," said Lucius Malfoy's cultured voice.
He was in complete control over his emotions, his perfect Occlumency not marred by fury or despair. He was already wondering if his Lord and Monroe had secretly been on the same side, playing both sides of the war. As far as he'd seen, Lord Voldemort hated David Monroe and Monroe hated Voldemort. He had never even suspected that the two might be working together until he'd read the Daily Prophet this morning. The best plots are the ones that no one suspects until they happen, leaving a few smart Slytherins to speculate if it really was a plot or not, and leaving the rest of the population none the wiser.
Lucius led his two guests to the room that housed his wife and son, as instructed by the man whose orders were tantamount to Voldemort's. His son and wife were still sitting in the same chair, his son on his wife's lap, discussing his first year at Hogwarts. Lucius had been content, earlier, just to listen, even if it meant ignoring his duties for an hour.
"Draco," he said, interrupting his son mid-sentence. "Harry Potter is here to see you."
"Harry?" Draco asked. "Why is-" At that moment, he seemed to notice Harry Potter directly.
"Er... sorry if I'm interrupting something," said the Boy-Who-Lived. "If you need to finish, go ahead."
"No," said Draco. "I was just talking about you anyway. In fact, I want to ask you something. Mother, could you let me down for a moment? And Dobby, can you bring me a copy of this morning's newspaper?"
"Yes, young master," said the timid but timely creature, popping away at once.
"Let's leave them to it, shall we?" said Monroe, a bit quietly.
"Yes," said Lucius hesitantly, ignoring the impulse to correct his son.
You do not ask Dobby, you order Dobby. But then again, maybe it was for the sake of appearances, given that they had company. Monroe is here on his Lord's orders. Lucius would not offer insult, he would do as suggested, and he would otherwise act as Lucius Malfoy was normally known to act in public. At least until he knew more.
"Would you join me in my private lounge?" he asked Monroe.
"I would," said the man, and the two left the room.
"...by a Patronus charm that was bigger and brighter than the world has ever seen," Draco finished quoting.
He set aside the paper on a small stand to the left of his chair and looked up at Harry, who could make a Patronus charm brighter than the world had ever seen and who had made Draco promise not to say anything about it.
Since his mother was here, Draco couldn't say what he wanted to say, so instead he had to go with, "Interesting, isn't it?"
Harry Potter was looking at him with raised eyebrows.
Draco was looking back with a smile. He had no idea what facial expression was actually appropriate for this situation, so he went with what he was feeling: smug satisfaction at having figured it out by himself, no matter what the paper said about bat-winged unicorns declaring war on the world. That was just Harry's normal craziness, he knew. If the Sorting Hat had been put on Draco's head in that instant, it might have had trouble deciding whether to put him in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. He was getting better at solving puzzles every day.
"You're right," said Harry, and Draco wondered if that was meant to be confirmation. "It is interesting. Say, Draco, have you considered becoming an Occlumens before you graduate?"
The walk wasn't overly long, but it was a walk through a wealthy, noble, and most ancient house. Most guests are at least slightly intimidated, even the wealthy ones.
Monroe did not seem intimidated at all, having grown up in a noble house himself. It was not often that Lucius was in the company of a true equal – socially, magically, and politically.
In fact, Monroe probably has more political sway than Lucius at the moment, and he was probably more powerful in magic. Lucius might lose the next few votes in the Wizengamot, even if he calls in favours and blackmail. That's the power of public support. If Monroe resumes his old seat again and calls for votes that go against Malfoy, anyway.
The Daily Prophet, in order to maintain its reputable status, almost exclusively reported facts last night, not spin or opinion. Worse, in order to maintain the appearance of being a voice for the people, it celebrated the Dark Lord's downfall. The only narrative Lucius could manage to include without hurting the paper's future credibility was the bit about the Imperius excuse being proven right, as his Lord had ordered him to do. Interviews of the Death Eaters with undeniable alibis had been successfully included. The rest of what was reported had hurt his faction's voting power, at least temporarily.
He wondered if the Dark Lord accounted for that in his (potentially post-mortem) orders. With the Mark itching earlier - and still being active in the first place - his Lord is almost certainly still alive. He wished he knew what was truly going on. As the most prominent Death Eater, he wasn't used to not knowing his Lord's design and not having clear orders, making this situation more stressful than usual.
His private sitting room, like Mary's Room in Diagon Alley, was proof against all outside scrying. Monroe politely offered to cast the full suite of privacy spells that sufficiently paranoid wizards, including his Lord, would always insist on casting anyway.
Lucius, keeping in mind that this man's words are tantamount to Voldemort's words until proven otherwise, allowed the man to establish their security, watching the swift spellwork with a twinge of envy. Monroe was fast.
"Well," said Monroe, sitting in the seat across from Lucius. "I do not quite know where to begin."
Lucius said nothing.
"Apart from this," continued the Defense Professor of Hogwarts. He removed a parchment from his robes and let it float wandlessly to the table between their chairs. "Your orders, Mr. White, are to read, comprehend, and sign that contract. With your true name, not an alias."
Lucius waved his wand, wordlessly levitating the parchment to his hands. He read it, then read the names that had already signed it.
"Be sure you fully understand it before signing," said Monroe as Lucius reached for his pen.
"Bones and Snape?" Lucius asked- he asked after signing it. He knew better than to wait to follow his Lord's orders.
"Yes," said the man as the contract floated back into his robes. "They have not been told the most shocking twist, but they have been told, and they now believe, that last night's raid was a fabrication of mine."
"They fell for that?" Lucius inquired, amused at the assertion. The Dark Lord's command over his mark cannot be faked. "That was no fabrication."
"Wasn't it?" asked Monroe, amusement in his own voice. "It could have come straight from a play. A perfect storybook ending in more ways than one. Myself and my apprentice were the primary political beneficiaries, and there's no more Dumbledore to oppose our agenda. You didn't find that suspicious?"
Lucius had found it suspicious. It was precisely why he believed the Dark Lord was not truly gone.
"I was referring to the Dark Lord," he replied. "The events of last night could have been orchestrated by his will. That is easy enough to believe, if you are on his side. I do not believe you could have done the same without his willing involvement."
"Suppose his presence was my doing as well."
Lucius gave a single, disbelieving chuckle, a huff of air. "No one can falsify his presence without command over the Dark Mark, and only the Mark's master can command it."
"Indeed," said Monroe. "Nor may control be passed to another in regency. Only Voldemort controls it. Only he could have stolen Bellatrix from Azkaban and convinced her of his return. Only he has been known to fly unaided. Only he can do impossible things like bypassing Hogwarts wards and stealing the Philosopher's Stone from Dumbledore's greatest protections. And only he can trick Flamel into protecting it in the first place, rather than simply hiding it like she's always done. There is a simple explanation for it all. I know you were not in Ravenclaw, but I believe you can solve this problem. Consider it your orders to do so."
Lucius nodded, a puzzled frown on his face. "That is all?"
Monroe shook his head. "There are two more matters we must address. First, Mr. Potter's obligations to you and your son have been met. The headmaster has been removed because of him, and it will soon be time for House Malfoy to uphold its end of the bargain."
That claim came as something of a surprise. Had Harry Potter truly been responsible for removing Dumbledore, or was Monroe simply taking advantage? As orders from Voldemort, he had no say in the matter, but he was curious about the truth. Perhaps curiosity was good, if his orders were to figure it out on his own.
"The deal," he said, since he felt he had to say it, "was not just that Dumbledore would be removed. Harry Potter also promised that my son would rise to power when he comes of age. Has he reneged on it?"
"Not at all," said Monroe. "Simply vote in favour of my proposals during the next session of the Wizengamot, and it will be done. Consider yourself ordered to do so, though I suspect you would have done it anyway, without any orders at all."
Lucius nodded. "Very well."
"Afterwards, you will regard the whole Blood Cooling affair as past business. Official dealings between House Potter and House Malfoy will no longer be transactional. They shall be friendly henceforth. Truly friendly. Allow Draco and Harry to meet over the summer. Take Mr. Potter to some plays. Make nice with his muggle parents. Understood?"
"Understood," Lucius echoed, concealing his distaste at the 'muggle parents' part of the order. "And the other matter?"
"The reason Mr. Potter came with me today is that he wants to encourage your son's continued growth," Monroe said, sipping tea that Dobby had brought. "I want to see it continue as well. Your orders are to support your son in any way you can, and do not interfere."
"Of course," said Lucius. "I would have done that in any case."
"Perhaps," said the man. "Or perhaps not. You took your son from Hogwarts for safety reasons, which I well understand, but it did negatively impact his improvement, if only for a short while. Rest assured, he will be under my protection while he's there."
"Was he under your protection before?" Lucius asked, allowing only the slightest tinge of accusation to reach his voice.
The man nodded, then sighed. "I should mention that the Dark Lord's ultimate target in his blood-cooling plot was not your son or Ms. Granger. It was you. Two weeks after Ms. Granger's conviction, ironclad evidence proving your Legilimizing of Professor Sprout would have been brought before the Wizengamot, and you can imagine the rest from there."
Lucius's blood ran cold. He could imagine. He would have been sentenced to Azkaban. He would have needed to pull every favour and blackmail he'd ever accumulated to reduce the sentence to exile, allowing House Malfoy to remain noble, not disgraced, in the hands of his innocent son.
"He believed he was doing what was best for House Malfoy," continued Monroe, "and he did it because he found the whole situation with your son and Harry Potter to be amusing. He didn't care about your son's inevitable trauma over your death or departure. He didn't see how bad that would have been for House Malfoy. He only cared about the practical advantages."
"I presume," said Lucius in a cold voice, "that he did not feel the slightest bit hesitant about risking and manipulating the future of House Malfoy in such a fashion?"
"Of course not," the professor agreed. "I ensured your son was safe throughout the plot, but you're right that it was a risky and manipulative maneuver. On that note, there is a question I would like to ask." The man gazed at him intently. "Consult your core emotions, Lucius, the ones beneath your false self of perfect Occlumency. Knowing the truth, is it better or worse that you were the target all along? Are you relieved that your son was never in true danger, protected by my involvement, or angered that he was used at all? Or... ah. Both?"
Lucius kept his breathing perfectly regular. In a setting like this, after months to calm down from the initial incident, this new information did not make him lose his temper, even if it was damning in the worst possible way – the way that allowed for no retribution or vengeance.
"I am displeased that my son was used as an unwitting pawn in such a dangerous manner," said Lucius in a calm tone, since this man is still here on the Dark Lord's orders. "No matter how carefully controlled. No matter if he had been unconscious the entire time, feeling no pain at all. Plots go astray, and I would not have tolerated the risk if I had been allowed to advise that decision. I wish I could say he owes House Malfoy a debt for endangering Draco's life."
"More than he would owe for attempting to depose you?" asked Monroe, still in that mildly curious voice.
Lucius nodded. "Though of course," he added with some bitterness, "he will never consider it a debt. He has no understanding of the heart, beyond how to manipulate it."
Monroe smiled, and Lucius could not tell if it was genuine. "Perhaps I can find a way to repay his debt, even if he would not. I was involved in the scheme, after all. Were there any other questions you had on the matter? Your son said before Hogwarts that House Malfoy would take the orchestrator as an enemy. Is that still your intention?"
Lucius shook his head. "Not if the Dark Lord was responsible. I shall have to content myself with Dumbledore's defeat. But I do have a question of my own."
"Go ahead. Perhaps I can answer."
"Why?" asked Lucius.
"Why what?"
"Why would the Dark Lord believe that my absence would be good for my son?"
Monroe tilted his head. "He wished to wipe you off the game board so you wouldn't get in your son's way. He believed you would do something… counterproductive, when you inevitably heard about your son's changing political beliefs. Understand, Lord Malfoy, that those beliefs go hand-in-hand with the power your son has acquired. Is acquiring. Draco will indeed be the greatest Lord Malfoy who has yet lived, as you said when you first saw his power. He will be the greatest Malfoy in history, magically and politically. He will be capable of nobly governing the other three quarters of the population, not just Slytherin, as I have been training him to do. But only if you do not get in his way."
"I understand your perspective, professor," Lord Malfoy drawled. "I am asking how the Dark Lord could have tolerated influences from Dumbledore. The Dark Lord's understanding of blood purism was greater than anyone's, even my own. I am asking how he could tolerate Harry Potter's political machinations, not how you could tolerate them."
Monroe laughed at that. "Voldemort regarded blood purism merely as an easy political agenda to accommodate his ambitions. As a half-blood, he never truly believed in it."
Lucius almost gasped. "Half-blood? That… that cannot be true..."
"It is. He was the product of rape, by a wealthy muggle aristocrat... well, I suppose it would have actually been a squib aristocrat, by the name of Tom Riddle. The mother was a witch who carried Slytherin's bloodline, but who was otherwise unremarkable. She was so unremarkable and weak that she managed to get raped by a muggle in the first place, and afterwards she wished to forget about the whole affair by dumping her illegitimate son in a place she'd never see him again. Tom Riddle junior was raised in a muggle orphanage, and was on par with David Monroe in Hogwarts until Slytherin's lore from the Chamber of Secrets vaulted him upwards in power." Monroe drew 'TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE' in the air with his wand, then a swipe rearranged them into 'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT'. "He wanted it to be an anagram of his name, but his actual middle name was Morfin. In any case, Tom Riddle Junior only invented Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters as a bad joke."
The last part came as an even greater shock than the initial news, because it sounded exactly accurate. A 'bad joke' had been Lucius's initial reaction too, before the Dark Lord had proven so powerful and cunning.
"He believed the Dark Lord would not last longer than a year while he learned the role and got his mistakes out of the way. Everything about him, including his agenda, wasn't his real perspective, it was just a role he was playing."
"But... but what of his arguments?" Lucius argued. "His knowledge of blood was unrivaled, even among the Death Eaters."
"Everything he said was indeed based on kernels of truth," Monroe allowed. "But more than that, it was based on his desire to not sound stupid. That's what made him so convincing. No intelligent half-blood would really believe in blood purism."
"He was Salazar's heir!" Lucius objected. "Bringing Slytherin's desires to fruition after centuries!"
Monroe shook his head. "Yes, he said that many times, but even as he brought them to fruition, he didn't truly believe in those desires. Well… not completely. He did understand them deeply. He even understood Slytherin himself, perhaps better than Salazar did."
The man's eyes unfocused from Lucius's, seeming to go a bit distant.
"In Salazar's time, muggleborn children would have seemed like different creatures altogether. Lesser in mind, for most muggles did not have the luxury of raising their children to read. Lesser in magic, for underage magic laws were nonexistent in those days, giving average wizards the very same magical advantage your son has had in Hogwarts, only more pronounced. In short, Wizardborn children grew up using wands, and they were more educated than muggleborn children when they began taking Hogwarts classes. That is likely what convinced most wizards in that era, Salazar included, of mudblood weakness. In those days, it was true. Salazar saw the fact of their weakness and the fact of their stupidity every time he taught Battle Magic as a professor. It had nothing to do with blood, but it was a reasonable mistake to think that it did, under the circumstances."
"Then what of today?" Lucius argued. "Mudbloods are still weaker."
"Not as much as they used to be, and not in every case, as Ms. Granger proves," said Monroe, his eyes focused on Lucius's once more.
Lucius frowned at that, but did not object to the point. That particular girl has been a sore spot all year, and now she's back to cause even more trouble.
"And at the lower power levels in general," continued the Professor, "it's hard to tell if there's even a difference at all. Muggles educate their children now, so their children no longer seem weak when we're talking about the power level that is attained by getting decent grades in Hogwarts – and since this is the power level that most average wizards will witness in their day-to-day lives, it's only natural that most average wizards no longer believe blood purism. The average citizen cannot readily see the difference between mudblood and pureblood anymore, which is why blood purism is no longer 'common sense'."
"The average ignoramus's opinion is hardly relevant," said Lucius. "What the masses believe has little bearing on the truth. Any wizard of true intelligence can see it."
But the man shook his head. "As a professor myself, I couldn't see the difference in grades or power. It might even have been the opposite, on occasion. Muggles all send their children to public school at age six; muggleborns are almost guaranteed to be mildly competent at reading and writing by the time they arrive at Hogwarts, unlike some pureblood children I could mention."
Lucius snorted disdainfully. "I can imagine." The Parkinsons came to mind. "But what I meant was that average wizardry hardly matters in the face of true power."
"Hm... agreed," said Monroe. "If you mean wizards on the level of myself and you and Dumbledore and Voldemort, then yes, there is still a major discrepancy between muggleborn and wizardborn."
"For which you have an explanation other than blood?" Lucius asked in forced neutrality.
The man nodded. "The general path to power is to acquire powerful lore, and most wizards who have it are unlikely to trust a muggleborn's discretion. Nor do I blame them."
Lucius chuckled. "You are not convincing me that I am wrong in my beliefs."
The man shrugged. "Again, it has nothing to do with blood, though some lore-holders might believe that it does. But even the most liberal muggleborn supporters cannot deny the cultural differences. Mudbloods lack the caution and common sense that wizards imbibe in youth, and scholars are right to point out that it's a major problem. That is the reason they are not trusted with lore, even by wizards like Dumbledore who want to trust them. That is the reason most powerful mages are purebloods, or at least wizard-raised half-bloods, and it's also the reason why there's the occasional exception to the rule. Some intelligent muggleborn wizards are cautious as a simple matter of personality. Again, Ms. Granger is a good example."
"And the decline of wizardry in general?" asked Lucius. "I suppose you have a reasonable explanation for that as well? Are you going to go with the standard excuse of lost lore?"
Or in other words, the classic and tiresome debate against Merlin's Interdict being responsible for the decline in wizardry, instead of blood mixing with mud. He at least knew that much of what the other side believed.
"Not in the standard fashion the argument is made," Monroe cautioned. "But yes, I am."
Lucius wished he didn't have to sit through this, being already familiar with the argument. He always thought it was the most reasonable perspective from the other side, but he was tired of hearing it by this point.
Still, orders are orders, and if it's not the standard version, it might be worth listening to.
"Muggleborn attitudes have slowly spread to their peers," Monroe said seriously. "I've seen it as a professor. Not enough to subvert our culture, thanks in part to the efforts of Minerva McGonagall over the past decades. But enough of a change has occurred to trigger the warning bells in any powerful wizard's mind. The apprentice pool being filled with so many potentially incautious idiots has made lore-holders hesitant to become mentors. Ancient secrets are being more readily lost than ever. That is the true reason for the decline of wizardry. Not blood mixing with mud as the Parkinsons believe, though it's true in the sense of mixing cultures and perspectives. Not fading magic as Dumbledore believes, though it's true that many rituals and spells have 'faded' out of existence by this point. The Ravenclaws were right all along: the Interdict of Merlin is responsible. Not that it should come as any surprise."
Lucius Malfoy, long accustomed to considering opposing viewpoints in his career as a politician, had never heard it put that way before. He could always see that the Interdict was how a reasonable person might conclude that blood purism is not the truth of the world. It's why he expected Monroe to go with the argument even before he made it.
But Lucius had never considered that both sides might be close to the truth in certain ways, and far in others. His son had asked him if he'd seen the patheticness of the Parkinsons as a problem. It was back during that brief, frustrating conversation they shared after the blood-cooling fiasco.
They'd agreed not to talk about politics further, especially when it seemed like it wasn't going anywhere and arguing was only making things worse. Draco had used the powerful magic of the Patronus charm to prove he shall always be on the side of Malfoy and the side of his father, regardless of politics, and that had been enough. Lucius knew enough of the spell to know it couldn't lie.
Lucius had initially disliked that Draco had learned it, even if it was to discharge a large favour on something politically harmless. Draco had then used the Patronus to inform Harry Potter of the debtor's meeting, saying wryly that Dumbledore's side shouldn't be the only one with access to the military benefit of instant, unforgeable messages, and Lucius couldn't have been prouder.
In the months that followed, Lucius had come to admit to himself that yes, the Parkinsons are not as magically powerful as the average muggleborn. If his life depended on it, given the choice between a muggleborn healer and a Parkinson healer, or a muggleborn auror and a Parkinson auror, he would choose the muggleborn. It's just the rest of the argument, what followed from that observation, that he disliked.
"You say it as if it is certain…" said Lucius slowly. "But… I am not immediately convinced."
He certainly did not want to offer offense, but he did not know how to politely refute the claim other than by saying 'you're wrong'. He didn't have any competent rebuttals. It was almost like arguing against one of the Dark Lord's arguments. He felt like he was arguing with the other side's version of Voldemort, at least as far as debate is concerned, and despite all his training and experience, Lucius had never reached that level of persuasiveness.
"Look to your own experiences for evidence," continued the man. "You already know your Lord's power came from the lost lore of Slytherin, nothing to do with his blood, just as Dumbledore's power came from Flamel's hoard. Those two most powerful wizards in the world were also, naturally, excellent in their Hogwarts classes. The final and perhaps most important factor to a powerful wizard is intelligence, and muggleborn children now have the same chance of being born and raised with it as pureblood children, unlike in Salazar's time. Thus has the gap in power almost completely vanished since then."
"A reasonable argument," Lucius nodded to Monroe. "But even were I directly ordered to believe you, I might fail to do so. Adult minds cannot change so easily, even when the desire is there."
That, also, he knew from his vast experience as a politician. Not that he has the desire to change, at the moment.
"Would it help to say that Voldemort himself believes everything I just told you?" asked Monroe. "Because I can truthfully say that he does."
"...Perhaps," said Lucius. "Perhaps it would help if I were told why he believes it."
"Because he's already used it to his advantage," Monroe answered.
"I see," Lucius sighed. That did make sense. "How did he take advantage of it, I wonder?"
The man tilted his head. "The flip-side to the cultural differences argument, which Voldemort knew but never said out loud, is that muggleborns have more creativity and freedom of thought. He grew up in a muggle orphanage, which is where he learned this. He used a powerful and impressive muggle artifact in the Azkaban breakout. He knows what muggles and muggleborns bring to the table. Their ideas about magic are not bound by the same mental blocks. Even the muggles themselves have a form of power, one that wizards can learn how to use, and which Mr. Potter is teaching to your son. Do you think Voldemort would have turned down an advantage like that? Even if Slytherin himself would have refused on basic principles, would Voldemort allow the opportunity to slip through his fingers, especially when it's already the favourite technique of his sworn enemy?"
Lucius didn't even have to think before shaking his head and saying, "No."
Voldemort grasped at every advantage. Anything that would make him more powerful, he would do it. That was always the difference between him and other Dark Lords. Everyone else has some kind of standard or principle. Even if they are flexible in the face of bribes and blackmail, everyone has hard limits. They have some motive or principle or attachment that gives them limits. Often it's a firmly held conviction, or a child, as it is with Lucius. Everyone has limits except Voldemort. His only principles are power-seeking and self-preservation. If he respected wizard norms about caution, he only did it because he valued his own life. Or maybe because other countries would have interfered if they perceived him as magically reckless.
"I see now why the Dark Lord would do such a thing," said Lucius. "Why he would believe as you speak. But I think that only pushes me further into my own beliefs, Lord Monroe. I do not wish to be like him."
Monroe smiled. "Not all examples of that perspective are negative, Lord Malfoy. Your son was creative with the Colloportus charm, to start. You may also look to Mr. Potter as an example of where extreme creativity can lead – frightening Dementors, impressing me with the Rita Skeeter incident, making original discoveries, like learning how magic is passed down from parent to child. And all within his first year of Hogwarts. In his first few months, even."
Lucius's eyebrows were heavily furrowed. "Magical lineage is not so simple. Not even the most erudite Ravenclaws have uncovered its secrets."
"Mr. Potter did," said Monroe. "Though he had the help of a good reference frame. A muggle scientist… no, let's call him a muggle herbologist, Gregor Mendel, discovered the same pattern of inheritance over a century ago, and Mr. Potter studied that scientist and successfully applied his findings to wizardry. But I digress. Without knowing anything else, all Mr. Potter needs to hear is that a Lady of a Noble House has produced squib offspring despite her husband being of excellent breeding. With only that, Mr. Potter would have instant blackmail material. After all, an upstanding, noble Lady cheating on her husband by consorting with a lowly squib, or worse, a muggle, would be a great scandal indeed. Because that is the only way for a witch – any witch – to have a squib."
Lucius's eyes widened.
"This," continued Monroe, "and certain other things that would be advantageous for a leader to know are what convinced your son that blood purism is not based in fact. Muggleborns should technically be called squib-borns."
Lucius did not have anything to say to that. His mind was flushing with blackmail ideas – many of which wouldn't work, since the blackmail would have to be used against his allies – and at the same time, his mind was trying to deny the statement, even though it was obviously possible. He hasn’t seen any proof yet, but he could easily imagine the Dark Lord keeping such a fact to himself all this time, laughing at his follower's gullibility all the while. At Lucius's gullibility.
"Muggleborns have the same potential for magical strength as any pureblood," said Monroe simply. "If you ever got to the point of accepting that, you would say they do not reach their potential nearly as often as purebloods, and you might be right about that. This is the true secret of blood that Mr. Potter and your son discovered together, though I tell it to you without Mr. Potter's permission, and you are ordered not to let your son or anyone else know that you are aware of it."
"Why violate their confidences at all?" asked Lucius. "Why tell me?"
"Because I want you to consider your own belief system and why you believe it. In the future, if you wish to convince your son of anything related to politics, you shall treat him as an equal, listen to his evidence, listen to his arguments, and be equally open to being convinced by him as you wish for him to be convinced by you. Otherwise, do what you can to support his growth. That is your general order for the future, and I will do the same." The man stood from his seat. "Any further questions?"
"Yes," said Lucius, rising himself. "Am I allowed to ask how you came to associate with the Dark Lord?"
"You are allowed to figure it out for yourself, Lord Malfoy. Bellatrix knew, though she had to be told. Snape realized it for himself. Moody almost did. If you do figure it out, the contract you just signed will prevent you from using the information in any way without my permission. If you try, your body will lock up for an hour. So long as you keep that in mind, let me know if you come up with any guesses."