Three days later, Damian received news from his roommates. Perkin McNeill had officially dropped out of school.
According to the rumors, the disgraced Beater was transferring to the Durmstrang Institute.
The professors had been unable to find any direct evidence of Perkin's involvement in the sabotage.
Once he was out of the school's immediate custody, Perkin had completely recanted his previous confession. He vehemently insisted that he had only admitted to the crime under extreme, coercive pressure from the Hogwarts staff.
Thanks to the political influence of various powerful families, the blame was quickly shifted. The narrative now pointed to severe, systemic safety hazards existing within Hogwarts itself.
A fresh, sensational article by Rita Skeeter in the Daily Prophet had ignited public outrage. The Headmaster's office was now overflowing with Howlers and angry complaint letters from concerned parents.
Rumor had it the Ministry of Magic was planning to establish a 'Hogwarts Safety Inspection Group' to oversee the rectification of these hazards and heavily monitor the teaching environment.
"The professors would never force a confession out of him!" Ron Weasley exclaimed indignantly. "They're too shameless! If you ask me, they should have just given McNeill Veritaserum!"
Harry Potter nodded in agreement. Tomorrow was Christmas, and the two Gryffindors had come up to the Hospital Wing to visit Damian and deliver their presents.
Geralt, one of Damian's roommates, shook his head. "I heard Perkin was taken away by the Ministry that very night. Without solid evidence, the joint investigation team would never authorize the use of Veritaserum on an underage wizard."
Jerry, his other roommate, snorted mockingly. "Of course they wouldn't. This so-called joint investigation team was established precisely to protect him."
The Ministry of Magic was always keen on interfering with Hogwarts' internal affairs. The formation of this joint task force was simply the result of opportunistic politicians taking advantage of a crisis.
Perhaps in a few months, this investigation team would officially rebrand itself as the Hogwarts Safety Inspection Group.
Harry scratched his head nervously. He now felt that Quidditch was an incredibly dangerous sport.
He had almost fallen from his own broom during his last match, and he certainly didn't possess Damian's exaggerated, life-saving Transfiguration skills. If Harry fell from that height, the consequences would be fatal.
Harry handed a small stack of wrapped boxes to Damian. "Merry Christmas, Damian. These are from me, and the others are from Hermione and Neville."
Hermione and Neville hadn't come to visit because they had already gone home for the holidays; they had asked Harry and Ron to pass their gifts along.
Ron quickly pulled out his own badly wrapped package. "Merry Christmas. This one is from me."
Damian accepted the gifts with a gentle smile. "Thank you. Merry Christmas to you both."
He reached into his robes and pulled out several gifts he had prepared days ago from his undetectable extension pouch.
"These are for you, and these are for Hermione and Neville," Damian said, handing them over. "Please find an owl to mail theirs for me."
After accepting the gifts, Harry and Ron were in a hurry to leave. Harry had recently stumbled upon a fascinating, hidden mirror that allowed him to see his deceased parents, and he had become quite obsessed with visiting it.
Once the Gryffindors left, Jerry looked over at Damian. "Didn't you say you were being discharged today?"
Damian nodded. "Yes. Madam Pomfrey is bringing my last dose of potion soon. I can leave as soon as I drink it."
"Then where will you spend Christmas?" Geralt asked. "The Hogwarts Express has already departed for London."
On Christmas Eve, the Hogwarts Express traditionally took the students back to King's Cross Station.
However, some students who lived closer could leave via the Floo Network in Hogsmeade Village, or have their parents Apparate directly to the village to pick them up.
"I'm going to my aunt's house for Christmas," Damian explained. "It was agreed upon during the summer break. She lives in London, so I can just use the public fireplaces in Hogsmeade to travel to Diagon Alley first."
Jerry sighed. "Alright. I thought you might stay and spend the holidays with us."
Jerry's parents had gone abroad for vacation, leaving him at Hogwarts for the winter break. Geralt had also chosen to stay behind so he could spend the holidays with his new girlfriend.
After exchanging their own gifts with Damian, his roommates finally headed back down to the Slytherin dungeons.
"Merry Christmas, child. You're free to go after drinking this," Madam Pomfrey said kindly, bustling over to his bed with a steaming goblet of potion.
Damian took the goblet. "Merry Christmas, Madam Pomfrey. Thank you for taking such good care of me these past few days."
Just as he finished the bitter draught, the heavy oak doors opened. Professor Dumbledore walked in.
The Headmaster looked noticeably weary. Dealing with the endless complaint letters and the Ministry's aggressive political interference had clearly taken a toll on him.
Seeing Damian pulling on his winter cloak, Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Are you officially discharged, Damian?"
Damian nodded. "I'm fully recovered, Professor. I'm preparing to head to my aunt's house for Christmas now."
"Spending Christmas with family is a wonderful thing," Dumbledore said softly. "The Hogwarts Express has already left, but there is a secure fireplace in my office. I can grant you access to Floo directly to Diagon Alley."
"Thank you, Professor," Damian replied smoothly. He didn't refuse the offer. He knew Dumbledore hadn't sought him out just to play travel agent; the old wizard clearly had something to say.
Dumbledore walked slowly alongside Damian as they navigated the empty corridors.
"Damian, I must apologize to you," Dumbledore began, his tone serious. "I failed to deliver on the justice I promised you."
"We found no concrete evidence that Perkin McNeill tampered with your broomstick. That night, after he was taken away by the Ministry officials, he immediately retracted his confession."
"By magical law, we cannot use Veritaserum or Legilimency to interrogate an underage wizard without Ministry approval. Without evidence, we cannot convict him."
Dumbledore sighed. "Furthermore, his family has already transferred him to the Durmstrang Institute."
"What happened this week has indeed exposed severe loopholes in Hogwarts' management. In the future, the staff will thoroughly inspect all brooms before every match. I promise you, Damian, an accident of this nature will never happen again on this campus."
Damian absorbed the Headmaster's words. It was exactly as he had predicted. Perkin hadn't been sent to Azkaban; he wasn't even formally charged and got to continue his magical education elsewhere.
"Professor," Damian asked quietly, his eyes fixed straight ahead. "Are you just going to let them do as they please? You should be able to stop them. I know you have the capability to intervene."
Dumbledore's voice lowered, carrying a heavy weight. "Currently, the methods the Ministry is using are entirely legal and procedural. Breaking the rules to enforce my own will is not a good thing, Damian. It often leads to even more disastrous consequences."
He stopped walking and looked down at the young Slytherin through his half-moon spectacles. "Remember this, Damian. It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."
"I understand, Professor," Damian said simply. He dropped the subject. He knew he couldn't manipulate Dumbledore into breaking his own moral code.
When they arrived at the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore stepped behind his grand desk and picked up a worn, leather-bound notebook.
"Merry Christmas, Damian," Dumbledore said, handing it over. "These are some of my personal insights and notes on advanced Transfiguration. Given your recent breakthrough, I believe they will be quite helpful to you."
"Thank you, Professor," Damian said, genuinely surprised. He hadn't expected Dumbledore to give him a personal gift, especially since he had never received one from the Headmaster in previous years.
Realizing he hadn't prepared a gift for Dumbledore, Damian quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, elegant box of liquor-filled chocolates I bought from Muggles.
"Merry Christmas, Professor," Damian offered. "I hope you'll like them."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly. "Candy made by Muggles? How delightful. I shall certainly give them a taste."
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