Chapter 202: Persuasion
"Uncle, aren't you going home for Christmas this year?"
Draco looked over at Phineas, who sat beside him reading A History of Magic, and asked with a hint of curiosity.
Phineas shook his head and smiled. "No, I'm staying at Hogwarts. Sirius and I haven't had much time together. It's awkward for both of us when I go back. But there will be opportunities to mend the relationship between brothers later. For now, I think Harry deserves some time with Sirius. After all, he's spent years in the Muggle world. Let them have this Christmas together."
Draco curled his lip at that. Though Phineas had tried to ease things between him and Harry before, Draco still held some resentment. To be fair, it wasn't really Harry he disliked—it was Ron. The two clashed like fire and ice and couldn't seem to get along.
Suddenly, Phineas looked at Draco with narrowed eyes.
"I heard you bullied students from other Houses again during Herbology yesterday afternoon?"
Draco froze. He still felt a bit afraid of Phineas, which was why he called him "Uncle," even though they weren't far apart in age. Phineas had a habit of managing everything around him.
Unfortunately for Draco, when he wrote to his father to complain, Lucius only replied telling him to listen to Phineas. That answer had confused Draco, but he had no choice but to obey. Sticking close to Phineas had earned him praise from several professors.
Lucius, for his part, had his own reasons. Narcissa had few close blood relatives left. Phineas was one, and Sirius—though estranged—was another. But Sirius, critical of past allegiances, had little patience for the Malfoys. Phineas, on the other hand, didn't care about Lucius's former Death Eater status and still chose to guide Draco. Lucius recognized the value in that connection.
Not to mention, the Black family now wielded more influence than before, while the Malfoy name had weakened since Lucius's own school days.
"They were just some Mudbloods. Besides, I didn't actually do anything to them. It was just a joke," Draco replied with a shrug, though he expected a scolding.
Phineas frowned deeply. That attitude, no doubt inherited from Lucius, was exactly what needed to change. No wonder the Malfoy family had declined.
"Draco," he said coldly, "I expect you to change your attitude toward Muggle-born wizards. I don't know how your father taught you, but Muggle-borns are wizards all the same. Some of the greatest minds in magical history have shown that Muggle-born wizards often show more talent than pure-bloods. This has been proven time and again."
He didn't lower his voice, nor did he pull Draco aside. He spoke those words clearly in the Slytherin common room—the very House known for valuing blood purity above all else. Several younger students looked up, shocked to hear such views spoken aloud.
Draco opened his mouth to argue, but Phineas raised a hand and continued:
"Let's set talent aside. Let's talk numbers. There are just over forty students in your year at Hogwarts. Fewer than ten are pure-bloods. Add in the half-bloods, and you have around twenty. The rest are Muggle-born."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"In the entire school, there are barely three hundred students. Of those, fewer than 150 come from pure-blood or half-blood families. That leaves nearly 200 Muggle-borns. Understand?"
Draco still looked uncertain. Phineas sighed and explained further.
"This isn't just Hogwarts—it's the entire magical world. Pure-blood families are shrinking. Your generation is the only one left in the Malfoy line. The same is true for almost every pure-blood family. And many so-called 'pure' families have intermarried with Muggles generations ago."
Around them, several older students and those already involved in their family businesses were beginning to understand.
Phineas went on.
"When you graduate—or even before then—the magical world will no longer be controlled exclusively by pure-bloods. We may still hold high places for a time, but the majority of the population will be Muggle-born or half-blood. If we don't shift our attitudes, all we'll do is ignite another war."
"And more urgently, look at our industries. Few pure-bloods want to work for another family's business, and our own houses are short-staffed. The magical world's largest workforce now is made up of the very Muggle-borns you look down on. They don't need high wages—just the right to live freely in our world. If we treat them with fairness, many will work diligently and be grateful. Yet you insult the very people who will one day keep your family's estate running?"
He let the silence stretch before continuing.
"When a class of people grows to a certain size, the only way forward is to adapt. In just a few years, most of the magical population will have Muggle heritage. We'll need their support—in business, in politics, and in every aspect of society."
"You might say you'll never enter the Ministry, or sit on the Wizengamot. Maybe you'll devote yourself to potion-making like Professor Snape. That's fine. But even then, you'll still be a part of this society. Unless you intend to shut yourself away and live as a reclusive genius, your life will be touched by the world around you."
"Or perhaps," he said with quiet finality, "you aim higher. Perhaps you'll walk the path toward legend—toward becoming a great wizard, a name known across history, and eventually join the elder council. If so, you'll need wisdom, not arrogance."