The children hadn't considered the Malfoy family's possible revenge, but the adults—Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who had fought those Pure-blood families before—clearly had.
So the moment they got home, they wrote a letter to Headmaster Dumbledore.
It detailed what had happened that day in Diagon Alley and asked for his help, pointing out that the Malfoy family would very likely retaliate against Lynn.
Reading the letter delivered to his home, Headmaster Dumbledore wasn't the least bit surprised by the news that Lynn had easily defeated both Lucius and Draco.
After all, Lord Voldemort himself had been driven off by Lynn; though he'd been in an incomplete state, it still proved the girl's power.
Compared with that, what chance did the two Malfoys, waving their pitiful little sticks, possibly have against her?
Still, Arthur and Molly's concern wasn't misplaced—Lucius Malfoy would certainly try to get back at Lynn.
Yet, clever as he was, he wouldn't personally cross a Young Wizard whose future was so obviously limitless.
So his best option was to go to the Ministry of Magic and persuade Fudge to take the matter out of her hide.
Whether it was a simple warning for under-age magic use or, more shamelessly, an actual hearing on charges of deliberate assault, either would serve as revenge.
In a single instant Headmaster Dumbledore had already mapped out every path Lucius Malfoy might take.
Without the slightest hesitation he stood, clapped his pointed hat on his head, stepped to the fireplace, seized a handful of floo powder, tossed it into the flames, and strode straight into Fudge's office.
Whatever the case, Lynn was a student of Hogwarts; as headmaster, he had a duty to protect her.
That duty, of course, included shielding pupils from any unjust persecution—beyond question.
St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries worked efficiently; after a bottle of Potion and an afternoon's rest, Lucius and Draco's dizzy, pounding heads had cleared.
The instant he felt better, Lucius used the hospital's fireplace to go straight to Fudge's office.
Fudge had just welcomed him warmly and asked him to sit when the grate flared green again.
'Oh,' Fudge muttered, frowning at the emerald flames. 'Why is everyone dropping by tonight?'
The fire roared higher, and out stepped Headmaster Dumbledore.
'Dumbledore, what brings you here?' Fudge rose quickly and came forward to shake his hand.
'A small matter to discuss, Cornelius,' the headmaster said, smiling as he clasped Fudge's hand—and at once spotted Lucius, sitting behind the Minister, face like thunder.
'Ah, how fortunate, Mr. Malfoy.' Dumbledore lifted off his hat and gave a courteous nod.
'Fortunate? I hardly think so, Dumbledore.'
Lucius glared at the headmaster. Fortunate? This very morning he and Draco had been "taught a lesson" by that Lynn, and tonight, just as he'd come to set Fudge on her, Dumbledore appeared.
Coincidence? A first-year at Hogwarts wouldn't believe it.
It had to be those blasted Weasleys who'd told Dumbledore.
Cornelius Fudge hadn't reached the post of Minister for Magic without the small knack of reading faces.
Seeing Lucius's dark, fixed stare at Dumbledore, he understood at once: something had happened, Malfoy wanted him to act, and Dumbledore meant to stop it.
At such moments Fudge always felt suffocated, caught between Dumbledore's faction and the Pure-blood families Malfoy represented.
Each time he could only muddy the waters, with no authority at all.
This time would be no different; he would simply wait for Dumbledore and Lucius to argue it out.
'Lucius, I hear you had a small disagreement with a young witch?' Dumbledore asked pleasantly, eyes twinkling.
Lucius clenched his serpent-headed cane. 'I hardly see how that concerns our great and virtuous Headmaster Dumbledore.'
'Oh, but it does,' Dumbledore beamed. 'Miss Lin is my student; you were once my student. When pupils quarrel, is it not natural for the headmaster to mediate?'
In those few words he reduced the affair to an ordinary tiff and took control of the conversation.
Lucius gripped his cane, eyes fixed on Dumbledore. 'So my son and I are simply to swallow this insult?'
'Young people are impulsive,' Dumbledore said, stroking his white beard. 'We must make allowances.'
'You made your share of mistakes at that age, Lucius.'
Dumbledore peered over his spectacles at him.
A shiver ran through Lucius: was Dumbledore reminding him of his past beside the Dark Lord?
'Besides, from what I gather, neither you nor young Mr. Malfoy came off too badly—considering the verbal advantages you took.'
Facing Dumbledore, the greatest Wizard of the century, Lucius knew better than the Ministry what he was capable of.
So he held his tongue, took his leave of Fudge, and returned home from the Ministry.
There was no point saying more; with Dumbledore's protection, he could do nothing to Lynn.
Otherwise he would have wiped The Weasley Family off the map years ago.
Watching Lucius depart, Dumbledore shook his head with a smile and set his pointed hat back in place.
'Sorry to trouble you, Cornelius. I trust the Ministry will overlook this little tiff?'
In other words, he wanted assurance that the Ministry would stay out of it.
'Of course, Dumbledore,' Fudge said, forcing a smile; with Lucius himself giving in, he wasn't about to cross Dumbledore. 'A perfectly ordinary disagreement—the Ministry won't interfere.'
'Splendid,' Dumbledore replied. 'Have a pleasant evening, Cornelius.'
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