Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
A/N: I will be releasing chapters on Fridays starting next week, due to my workload increasing! I don't have a beta, if anyone wants to help out, it'd be much appreciated! Hope you guys enjoy the new chapter
Chapter 6
Mudbloods, Half Bloods, and Blood Traitors
Hogwarts loomed ahead. Countless candles gleamed in the distant windows and its huge outline vanished into the star studded sky. Every time Draco saw the castle like this, he felt awe envelope him. The castle was raised by Salazar Slytherin and the other Founders almost a thousand years ago. It was truly one of the thirteen wonders of their world. His father always said it was a prime example of the might of wizarding kind. The blonde haired boy couldn't help but agree.
Too bad it was run by the biggest bunch of blood traitors in Britain. Dumbledore was a mighty wizard, but more than slightly mad, and much too sympathetic to the lesser sort. The Deputy Head Headmistress was extremely strict, and did not show the proper respect for someone of his pedigree. The only worthy one out of the entire lot was Professor Snape, and even he was only a Half Blood.
With an audible sigh, Draco turned away from the sight to focus on ongoing conversation in the carriage.
"Theodore, you can't be serious! Of course, we'll win the House Cup again!" Pansy Parkinson's high pitched voice sounded shocked.
"I wouldn't be so sure, Harry Potter's been sorted into Gryffindor. All the staff, except Professor Snape, are sure to kiss his scarred arse." Theodore Nott didn't sound happy about the prospect.
Draco's father, an esteemed member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, had told him about the special treatment that Potter was already receiving. The blood traitor had already been at Hogwarts for a week with his sidekick, Neville Longbottom, and they were going to be receiving advanced training throughout the year. The excuse for this blatant favoritism was that the pair had, through a battery of exams, shown skills well beyond fourth year level.
Not bloody likely.
Draco and his father suspected that James Potter, the chief enemy of the Pureblood Movement, had thrown an obscene amount of money at the staff to garner preferential treatment.
The Potter's had gone from a modestly wealthy family, to a family that had wealth on par with, if not surpassing, that of the Malfoy's in less than a generation. Some idiots thought that the Potter's had a philosopher's stone. Others said that their plebian venture, Marauder's Inc., was responsible fortheir windfall. Personally, Draco thought they had cashed in on the fall of the Dark lord in some unknown way
So Draco had shared this nugget of information, once they were comfortably aboard the Hogwarts express. Unfortunately, all the conversation of the day had surrounded the celebrity's arrival at Hogwarts, and the many possible effects it would have on the power structure of the castle. Draco shouldn't have been surprised, they were Slytherins.
After a full day of discussion, a consensus hadn't been reached within Slytherin. The Malfoy scion regretted telling his friends. He was well and truly tired of hearing about Harry bloody Potter, but try as he might he couldn't seem to steer the conversation in any other direction.
"Professor Snape won't let that happen." Pansy said petulantly. The Slytherin Head of House was infamous for how much he favored his house, and he had done everything in his power to see that Slytherin always won the House Cup. "Plus we always win the Quidditch Cup!"
Draco grinned. The Nimbus 2001s that his father had bought the team, added to his own transcendent skills as a Seeker practically assured that Slytherin would always be victorious on the Pitch.
"Yeah, we always pound those Gryffs into the ground!" Vincent Crabbe's lumbering voice said from across the carriage. Crabbe alongside Gregory Goyle were sure to take over as Beaters next year when Derrick and Bole left. Greg was in another carriage, since Pansy had insisted on accompanying Draco as always. She and Theo had been in the middle of their argument, so that left Goyle the odd man out.
"What do you think, Draco?" Pansy simpered.
"I think I'm bloody tired of talking about the blood traitor!" Draco snapped peevishly.
The carriage fell into an uneasy silence at his words, the silence stretched until the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the castle.
Draco briskly pushed the carriage door open and hopped out. He strode quickly towards the castle. He didn't see what the big deal was about the famed wizard. Father always said that it had been ancient blood magic invoked by his mudblood mother that had destroyed the Dark Lord, Potter hadn't done anything.
Reaching the steps to the Entrance Hall he took them two at a time, leaving his friends to scurry after him. Draco didn't care, if they were too stupid to see how over-hyped his nemesis was, they deserved to scurry about like idiots.
The night sky roiled overhead as he took his customary seat at the Slytherin table. A moment later a red faced Pansy Parkinson slid into her seat on his left, and Theo sat down on his right. Crabbe and Goyle sat across from him. No one said a word as the other students filed in.
Draco began scanning the room for any sign of Potter or Longbottom.
At the Gryffindor table he saw four of the destitute Weasels bunched together.
The sixth year twins were skilled Beaters on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and constant annoyances as they perpetrated prank after prank on the members of Slytherin. But at least they had some semblance of cunning.
Ron Weasley was a thorn in Draco's side, his crass and bullish manner was always an impediment to Draco's plans. They had been at each other's throats since first year. The Gryffindor lacked the wit or the means to truly challenge Draco's dominance of the year, though.
The youngest Weasley was turning into a fit bird, pureblooded and sleek. Draco definitely wanted a ride. Maybe he could pay for her services. Her blood traitor family could definitely use the money.
He continued to scan the table and saw the other Fourth year Gryffindor boys: Michael Corner, Seamus Finnigan, Anthony Goldstein, and Dean Thomas. The lot of 'em were half-blooded, and besides being in Gryffindor, were entirely inconsequential. He finished his inspection of Gryffindor table without seeing either Longbottom or Potter.
The Griffindor Fourth year girls: The Patil twins, Lavender Brown, Leta DaGrun, and Lily Moon. Besides Brown's mature figure, they were all worthless.
His eyes drifted to the Ravenclaw table, and to the witch who by all rights should have been sitting next to him. Karina Black was happily chatting with her two friends: her pet mudblood Granger and the other blood traitor, Susan Bones. Black's olive skin made her sharp gray eyes stand out from her beautiful features as she looked at her fellow Ravenclaws. Even at this distance and despite her robes, Draco could tell that the pureblooded witch had grown in most alluring ways.
Draco lusted after her, even as he hated her.
Granger was first in their class. Karina was second. Draco was third. The witches had routinely outperformed him in every class. His father had angrily said it was shameful to come in second in anyway, but it was absolutely unacceptable to fall behind a blood traitor. Even worse he allowed a bushy haired mudblood to surpass him.
Still he wanted Karina, more than anything in the world. Rape, love potions, or the Imperius wouldn't be enough, he wanted her to be his completely. One day he swore that she'd marry him, of her own free will, and give him a strong son to carry on the Malfoy name. As it was, she wouldn't give him the time of day.
Draco ignored the puerile Sorting Hat song. The dingy hat must have led an extremely boring existence and it was a poor singer to boot.
He quickly scanned the new first years and recognized two faces from Flourish and Blotts. Potter's younger siblings, the boy had blonde hair, but otherwise looked like Potter and his father. The girl was a copy of her mother, except she had brown eyes. They were fraternal twins, and in the old days one of them would have been killed at birth. There were old stories about the evil of such offspring.
"Potter, Gideon" was sorted into Ravenclaw and "Potter, Rose" was quickly sorted into Gryffindor.
He didn't pay attention to any of the other firsties, none of them were from families of note. Though he did politely applaud for the new Slytherins, it was customary.
After all of the first years had been sorted, Dumbledore stood up and addressed the student body.
"Before we tuck in, please join me in welcoming our new Fourth Year Gryffindors: Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter." A door opened next to the staff table as Professor Dumbledore started to politely clap. His applause echoed in the suddenly quiet hall.
Out stepped Neville Longbottom, a muscled and tall young man who carried himself well. Malfoy looked him over. The wizard's robes were of the finest cut and he wore them well, over his shoulder he carried a mokeskin rucksack. His posture was erect and proper. His quick pace and nervously active hands gave away his disquiet. His footsteps joined the Headmaster's applause as the only sounds in the hall.
After a count of five, the-Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived walked out. His black robes were of similarly fine quality, but Potter somehow made them look inconsequential. Draco registered that Longbottom was taller by at least two inches, but Potter seemed to tower over the other boy. Raven hair fashionably messy, green eyes alight, mouth turned into an appreciative smile, Potter sauntered out. He looked completely at ease, no sign of hesitation or nervousness.
At the sight of their beloved hero the hall erupted. Draco had only experienced such a cacophony this summer at the World Cup, and even then it had been spread out over an open Quidditch pitch, not confined to a room.
Gryffindor was going absolutely mental, he could hear the magically amplified voice of one the Weasley Twins screaming, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Ron Weasley looked like Christmas had come early, as he shouted himself hoarse. Ginny Weasley looked like she was going to feint.
Hufflepuff was loudly cheering, and the usually reserved Ravenclaws had abandoned all decorum and were matching the Hufflepuffs for boisterousness. Draco saw a look pass between Karina and Potter, and his already black mood deteriorated even further. Even some of his fellow Slytherins had started to clap, before their housemates had been able to stop them. Draco marked which Slytherins were foolish enough to cheer for his avowed enemy.
Through it all Potter's smile grew and his steps remained calm. He bowed his head a fraction, as if he was a king come back to claim his castle. He seemed to accept the maddening reception as his due.
Draco carefully kept a neutral expression, but inside he was filled with black rage. The praise and adulation that Potter took as his due, should have been his. Draco should have been the one sharing meaningful glances with Karina! He resolved to ruin Potter if it was the last thing he did.
Suddenly Potter met his eyes, and Draco felt a powerful force invade his mind. Belatedly he threw up his Occlumency barriers, but Potter's smile turned into a triumphant smirk. The rotten bastard had used Legilimency on him, what was worse the blood traitor had undoubtedly been successful.
Draco averted his eyes and found Professor Snape sitting at the Head table, an unquestionably murderous look across his face. At least, there was one other sane person in Hogwarts.
Finally Potter and Longbottom sat down next to the Weasels, and the cheering died down.
"Well tuck in." Dumbledore said without preamble, his damnable eyes were twinkling merrily.
A sumptuous feast appeared on the golden plates. Roast beef, roast chicken, boiled potatoes, chips, yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, and peppermint humbugs were set before them. Mechanically he filled his plate and began eating. Even the delicious food could not deter his mind from the schemes of revenge that flashed pat his mind's eye.
Midway through the meal, as Pansy was trying to engage him in conversation, he noticed Potter and Longbottom get up and walk over to where the Ravenclaws table. After a few words from Potter, the pair sat down on opposite sides of Karina and began to merrily talk. Draco was surprised the goblet in his hand didn't buckle under his grip.
Draco didn't even touch dessert, which was his favorite part of every meal, so intent was he on observing his nemesis.
At the end of dinner, the pair moved back to the Gryffindor table. Karina looked after them, much too long for Draco's taste.
The food disappeared and Dumbledore stood. The old codger began talking. Draco only listened half-heartedly.
"Please give a warm Hogwarts welcome to this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Nymphadora Tonks!" A pretty witch with midnight blue hair stood up and gave a cheerful wave. There was a wave of polite applause from the crowd, except Potter and Longbottom were applauding raucously.
Draco thought he was going to be sick. Nymphadora Tonks[MO1] was the daughter of his blood traitor Aunt Andromeda and her mudblood husband. Draco had never met his disinherited Aunt or cousin, his father and mother would never let him mix with such rabble. As far as Draco was concerned, his cousin was a stain on the family honor.
She sat down and the doddering old fool continued speaking.
Draco was too engrossed in his own whirring thoughts to pay attention to the Headmaster's remarks about the caretaker's absurd rules, the squib was a nasty piece of work who didn't know his place.
"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." That brought Draco out of his thoughts, he loved Quidditch. The rest of the school apparently agreed with him, as angry shouts filled the air.
Dumbledore held his hands up and an uncomfortable silence fell over the hall.
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the staffs' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely." The old wizard paused for effect.
"I have great pleasure in announcing that this year the Septem-Wizard Series will be taking place at Hogwarts." Curious muttering filled the air. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had never heard of this bollocks.
"The Septem-Wizard-Series is the natural successor to the famed Tri-Wizard Tournament. It will call upon six other schools of magic from around the world: Amun-Ra Mystical Academy, Beauxbatons Academy, Durmstrang Instute, Eldorado School of Magic, Izanagi Academy, and Salem Witches Instute. A champion will be selected to represent each school, and the seven champions will compete in seven magical tasks." The student body seemed mollified, now.
"The Series is meant to bring the Wizarding world closer, by providing an environment for young witches and wizards to interact. Our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for the Series to take place." Draco's father associated with Cornelius Fudge, the Department Head of International Magical Cooperation, and wondered why he had not been made privy to this event.
"The Heads of the seven schools will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the seven champions will take place on Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most qualified to compete for the Series Cup, the glory of their school, and seven thousand Galleons in personal prize money." Draco quite liked the sound of that! His father wouldn't care if he wasn't top of the class, if he won the Series.
"Eager though I know you all will be to bring the Septem-Wizard Cup to Hogwarts, the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put their names forward for consideration. This-" Draco joined in the general outcry coming from the younger years, he wanted to compete!
Dumbledore paused until the student body simmered down.
"is a measure that we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will be difficult and dangerous, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." The Headmaster was looking at Gryffindor table, in the vicinity of Potter. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen." There was a general grumbling from the student body.
"The delegations from the schools will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for a greater part of this year. I know that you will extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to enjoy your three day weekend. Bedtime! Chop chop!" The old wizard smiled benignly. The students and staff got up to leave.
"So, Draco are you going to try to enter?" Pansy said sweetly, as she grabbed his elbow. The pair began to walk toward the Slytherin dungeons, surrounded by their housemates. "I think you'd be sure to win!"
Draco knew she was just trying to get back in his good graces by talking about a non-Potter related subject. That didn't mean it wasn't working.
"Yes, I imagine so." Draco said as he favored the witch with one of his most dazzling smiles. "We can't have any of the lesser sort representing Hogwarts. Can we?"
"Don't be droll, I don't imagine any of that sort would be judged worthy to participate in such a high profile event." Pansy's voice was light and playful. "Still, better safe than sorry!"
The Slytherins continued to talk loudly and boisterously about entering the tournament, as they approached their common room entrance.
"Pride" one of the Slytherin prefects said as Draco and his friends neared the stone wall. The wall vanished to reveal a tunnel. Once they reached the common room, Draco glanced about. The room was exactly as he remembered it.
The common room was a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs. This dungeon extended partway under the lake, casting a green tinge over the room. There were quite a few low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas; skulls; and dark wood cupboards. It provided a suitablt grand and forbidding atmosphere. Tapestries featuring the adventures of various famous Medieval Slytherins decorated the walls.
Feeling a bit worn out, Draco excused himself to his private room. Private rooms were allotted to those of the best quality within Slytherin. His room was appointed in green and silver, had its own fireplace, and an adjoining bathroom. He had hear that the other Houses made no special distinction between students, that they all shared a dormitory. The idea of sharing a room with anyone was appalling to the young wizard.
He took out a quill and a parchment and composed a note to father. After a few minutes of writing Draco looked over his neat and precise handwriting one last time.
Father,
You were correct, Potter and Longbottom were already at Hogwarts when we arrived. They were given a suitably dramatic entrance by Dumbledore. Obviously he intends to show the pair favoritism. They seemed very comfortable with the Black and Bones girls. Perhaps I should endeavor to cause a rift between them?
Quidditch was cancelled for the year. A new tournament has been announced. I am thinking of entering. The event sounds like an excellent way to increase the prestige of the family name.
My blood traitor cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, has been appointed as the DADA teacher. I think it's criminal that they continue to populate the staff with such ruffians. Maybe next year they will appoint that oaf Hagrid as a teacher!
As always, give my love to mother.
Your obedient son,
Draco
Satisfied with the contents of the letter he placed it in the Vanishing box inside his trunk. His vanishing box's counterpart was in his parent's bedroom. When he closed the lid, his note would vanish, and then reappear inside its twin. Comm-mirrors didn't work at Hogwarts and owls were far too slow. Both were notoriously unsecure, so he used the Vanishing box to communicate with his parents.
He quickly undressed and laid down on his very comfortable bed. Practicing his Occlumency he pushed the thoughts of the day away.
Soon he fell into a deep sleep where he fitfully dreamed of entering the Septem-Wizard Series, only for Harry Potter to steal the Trophy out from under his nose. The Trophy then shifted into Karina Black, and the two blood traitors began laughing at him. Their laughter became his father's mocking laughter. Who then began to berate him for being an embarrassing failure.
Upon waking he did not remember the dream, only a sharp feeling of shame and outrage.
He immediately opened up his trunk and tapped the Vanishing box with his wand. The lid opened and he saw a parchment tightly rolled up and bound with a silver ribbon. His father's seal was affixed to the ribbon.
He quickly broke the seal and began reading.
Draco,
Keep me apprised of Potter's movements, he is a potential lever that we can use against his father. Be wary, all reports I have point to a large amount of martial training.
The Septem-Wizard Series is a move by Lord Potter to gain influence both at home and abroad. If it is successful, he will have garnered much support from the commons. Do not attempt to enter the Series, I have laid careful plans to see that the Series and the Potter's do not succeed.
The Standards at Hogwarts are of my utmost concerns, be assured that I am doing everything in my power to correct the deficiency.
A dangerous game is afoot. Keep your head down, and concentrate on your studies.
Love,
Father
After committing the letter to memory, he threw the parchment into his fireplace, and waited a few seconds to make sure that the letter was completely burned. Draco vanished the ashes for good measure.
The fact that his father included Draco in his schemes, made a proud fire burn in his chest.
Draco mulled over his father's words, as he quickly bathed and dressed himself. He was disappointed that he would not be joining the Series, but the thought of the Potter's being humbled made him smile.
Before leaving his room, he verified that he was impeccably dressed, every strand of his platinum blonde hair was perfectly placed. His father always said that the proper appearance was the first step to success.
He met Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott in the Common Room. Pansy was apparently still doing her makeup. Unwilling to wait for her, the quartet made their way down to the Great Hall. The four boys fell into an easy rhythm. Vincent and Gregory weren't the greatest conversationalists, but they were his oldest friends. Besides, their imposing stature and tendency to cast hexes at the slightest provocation, made the other occupants of the castle scurry out of the way. Draco and Theodore engaged in small talk, trying to decide how they were going to spend their long weekend.
Upon entering the Great Hall, Draco glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Neither Potter nor Longbottom were present at their table.
As was his habit, his eyes drifted to where Karina usually sat. That area of the Ravenclaw table was roaring with laughter at some unknown joke. He caught sight of Black. She looked even more beautiful when she laughed. Her usually guarded countenance, open and jovial, dark locks moved enticingly.
Then he saw the source of their amusement. Potter was telling a joke that had the normally reserved Ravenclaws laughing uncontrollably. It was subtle, but the body language at the table showed the Gryffindor was the center of attention. When Karina lightly brushed her hand against Potter's arm, Draco decided to take action.
Flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, Draco and Nott strode the length of the table towards the group. Conversations died as he moved, some of the fools knew enough to show him the proper amount of respect.
"Eh, Potter you must be confused, this is the Ravenclaw table. Gryffindors sit over there." He said to Potter's back, as he gestured with his thumb at the Gryffindor table. Draco noticed that Longbottom was sitting across from Potter, and the blonde wizard's hands were conspicuously free.
"What business is it of yours where I sit?" Potter's voice was dismissive, he hadn't even turned to face Draco.
"Oh not much, I just thought I'd give you a little advice, since you've been out on a lark for the last thirteen years." Draco let his voice carry. He wanted to remind the students that Potter had thought himself too good to attend Hogwarts, until recently. "We here at Hogwarts value house pride, sitting at another table pisses all over both your own house and Ravenclaw."
"Listen closely Malfoy, I'll speak slowly so that I don't have to repeat myself." Potter finally stood up and had faced Draco. "I sit where I want and with whom I want. If these fine scholars wish for me to sit elsewhere? I will gladly do so." He had gestured at the Ravenclaw table as he spoke.
"Of course, the great Harry Potter thinks that he can up end nearly a thousand years of tradition, just because he doesn't like where he was sorted." Tradition was one of the cornerstones of the Wizarding world, and Hogwarts relished the independent traditions of their houses. Perhaps Draco could succeed in turning Ravenclaw and Gryffindor on Potter because of the boy's arrogance.
"Bugger off Malfoy. You're just upset because my daddy doesn't have to pay people to be my friends." Potter's sardonic tone grated.
Malfoy glanced about at the Ravenclaw table. Potter's little brother, Longbottom, Karina, Bones, and Granger were just a few of the people who were paying close attention to the exchange.
"Friends? If you call blood traitors and mudbloods, friends then I truly pity you." Draco's voice had just the right inflection of derision.
"I'd take any one of them over you or your goons. In a heartbeat. At the very least, they aren't spoiled gits, who take the accomplishments of their ancestors as their own." Draco felt himself flush. "Why anyone would want to lay claim to a history of political opportunism, nepotism, and dark magic, is beyond me."
"What are you doing over here anyway? Trawling for another mudblood to die for you?" Draco's voice was acid, no one talked about his family. There was a general intake of breathe as he spoke, and Potter's cool facade changed like quicksilver. The half-blood was now clearly livid. That was good, angry people made mistakes. "I'd thought there'd be plenty of those over at the Gryffindor table."
"That is the third time a member of your family has insulted my mother, in my presence. There will not be a fourth." Potter's voice was dangerous. Draco ignored the shiver that ran down his spine.
"Potter, we can settle this with a wizard's duel, if you would like." Draco's said forcing himself to calmness. Father said that Potter had received martial training. More than likely he'd be confident enough to accept, then Draco would use that overconfidence to set him up after curfew.
"He accepts in the name of House Potter. I shall be his second as a representative of House Longbottom, and since you issued the duel we choose the time and place. "Longbottom's voice was fierce. "Today is a free day, so I think that noon, by the Whomping Willow will be an advantageous time."
Curse that bastard! He had effectively drawn house honor into the fray, and set the conditions to protect Potter from any underhanded tactics. Now Draco had little choice, but to participate.
"Theodore Nott of House Nott will be my second." Nott was an excellent duelist, who had a penchant for the nastier curses. "I assume underage rules of conduct will apply." The underage rules stated that the duelists agreed on a prearranged signal to start the duel, the use of Blunting Charms, and that the duel would continue until either participant was disarmed or incapacitated. Unlike a duel between adult wizards, which were often to the death, the loser would also make a concession, called a Loser's Debt.
Potter nodded.
"Then I insist that as the Loser's Debt, Potter publically admit that purebloods are superior to mudbloods and half-bloods." Draco said. If Potter agreed, he'd be putting his father's agenda in jeopardy. If Potter declined, then Draco would be able to withdraw, while making the blood traitor look like a coward.
"Agreed, on the condition that you never refer to muggleborns as mudbloods again, and that you do everything in your power to ensure that the members of your family do the same, as your Loser's Debt. I'd also like to approach Professor Flitwick as arbiter of the duel." Potter replied.
Draco weighed the situation.
He could publically shame his family's most hated rival with a victory in the duel, and all he would risk is not being able to address scum by the diminutive. Besides, Potter wasn't the only one who had received martial training, Draco had been trained in dueling well before he reached Hogwarts. Draco couldn't very well argue with the inclusion of Flitwick, he had been a well-known dueling champion in his day.
"You've got a duel Potter." The Malfoy scion said putting on an arrogant smirk as he led his friends over to the Slytherin table. Whispers followed his steps, and that heartened him. People should be talking about him.
The rest of the morning went by in a blur of conversation as his fellow Slytherins talked about the upcoming duel. Everybody wished him luck from Seventh years on down. Draco knew that this was his moment. Once he brought Potter low, his standing in the school would skyrocket. Who needed the Septem-Wizard Series, if he could show that he was better than Potter?
Even Professor Snape came over to the table.
"Mr. Malfoy, come with me." The professor said in a neutral tone. Professor Snape pulled him away from the table in the Great Hall. Expecting a congratulatory word, Draco was surprised when he saw cold fury on the Potion Master's face. The older wizard pulled him into an alcove off of the Entrance Hall and cast a privacy charm.
"I thought you better than a common Gryffindor." His Head of House's voice was filled with contempt. Draco flinched at the words. Being called a Gryffindor by a fellow Slytherin was a great insult, not to be used lightly. "Rushing into a duel without knowing your opponent's capabilities, I thought your father did not raise a fool."
"Professor, surely you don't believe Potter's propaganda. Even if he is skilled, I'm confident my extra lessons will allow me to prevail." Draco said trying to keep his voice neutral. The Professor among others had given him lessons in the Dark Arts, and tested him in battle.
"Yesterday, Mr. Potter defeated the new Defense teacher in front of the entire faculty inside of a Duelist Dome. While she is an unspectacular combatant, she was by no means incompetent." Snape's voice hammered into Draco. "Potter dismantled her at his leisure. You have vast potential, and have learned a great deal more than most of your peers. On the other hand, Potter has been trained to be a weapon aimed at the Dark Lord."
Draco felt the blood draining out of his face. His father said that Snape was one of the best duelists in the world, and that he trusted the wizard's judgment implicitly.
"Good, I see my words have made an impression. Normally, I'd advise you to find some sort of pretext to withdraw, but since they have invoked family honor, we both know that to be impossible." Draco silently agreed with Snape's words, backing out of the duel was not acceptable. It would make House Malfoy appear weak, and to an ambitious Slytherin that was anathema. "Neither can a staff member intercede. Not only were the correct forms observed, but they neatly placed the duel outside of the castle's halls, thus they conformed to the letter of the rules." Snape's every word seemed to press on him, their gravity pulling at him.
"I would suggest you make plans to avoid embarrassment. It would not do for the Potters to gain a clear victory over your family and our house in one fell swoop." Snape advised. "Perhaps, you will seek my counsel before you take such a hasty course of action in the future."
Snape cancelled the privacy charm and glided out of the alcove, leaving Draco shaken.
Panic started to consume Draco, and he tried to quell it with his Occlumency skills. The sheer panic rose up in him like a terrible monster, defying his attempts. If he were to be embarrassed by Potter, what would his house do? What would his father say? Images of his father's disappointed face and his jeering classmates engendered shame in the young wizard.
Once again he tried to push down the panic and shame that seemed to rush over him. This time he succeeded.
He ran thru the conversation twice more in his head, and a plan began to form in his head.
He thought hard and looked about for anything that could help him out of his situation. A large number of students were leisurely traipsing about the castle, obviously intent on enjoying the three day weekend.
The sight of Bole and Derrick heading to the Dungeons made Draco smirk. The Bole's owed the Malfoy family a very great amount of money. Time to call in part of that debt, Draco thought. Derrick was graduating at the end of the year, the backing of a powerful patron would do much to help Derrick's prospects, and Derrick was the proud owner of an invisibility cloak.
After a short conversation with Bole and Derrick, which set a plan in motion. Draco returned to his seat in the Great Hall. His friends jovially accosted him once more, but he found he had lost all taste for boasting.
He began to talk quietly and haltingly to his friends, catching his mood they lost all traces of humor. A contingency plan fell into place.
Soon it was time for Draco and Nott to leave for the Whomping Willow, most of Slytherin accompanied them. Crabbe and Goyle marched ahead, acting like a vanguard. They arrived ten minutes early, the sun was high and there was nary a cloud in the September sky. Professor Flitwick was awaiting them, his features inscrutable. Peregrine Derrick gave him a subtle nod when Draco didn't see Bole.
Small groups from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began to arrive.
Five minutes passed, and Draco began to hope that Potter would not show. Then a huge standard with a charmed golden lion on scarlet background came into view. The lion reared and roared silently. The standard floated above a massive contingent of students, Draco thought it was all of Gryffindor.
At the center, Potter haughtily walked toward the awaiting Slytherins, his school robes billowed behind him. His entourage of mudbloods and blood traitors, nipping at his heels. When Potter was about a hundred yards away and had started to converse with Ron Weasley, a blast of yellow light shot from behind him. Draco was astounded as Potter, who shouldn't have been able to see the spell, moved with supernatural speed and agility to leap out of the way. He rolled to his feet with wand in hand and easily sidestepped another curse. A glittering light erupted from Potter's wand and the surrounding crowd began to glitter, including a wizard under an invisibility cloak.
The cloaked wizard went down in a hail of stunners and disarming charms. The cloak was removed to reveal Lucian Bole. Even at this distance, Draco could make out the pleased grin on Potter's face. The young wizard felt familiar panic rising once again. Bole was a seventh year, and he had the advantage of surprise. Potter had bested him without missing a beat.
The approaching crowd stopped about twenty yards away. Potter moved forward unafraid. Slamming down his Occlumency defenses and pushing away his panic, Draco moved to meet him.
Professor Flitwick performed the Blunting Charms on Potter's wand and then on Draco's. Once done the little wizard moved outside the dueling circle. Flitwick cast the Duelist's Dome and inwardly Draco grinned.
"Draco, I thought you'd do much better than a lone assailant. If it was your father, I'm sure that he would have sent at least a full team to avoid facing me." Potter said, as Draco came to a stop about ten meters away from the half blood.
"My father is twice the wizard you'll ever be, and I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Draco said with reassurance. "Now, did we come here to talk or duel?" He tried to put as much confidence as possible in to his voice.
Both young wizards assumed dueling stances, and gave each other perfunctory nods. Draco did not fail to note, with displeasure, that Potter's movements were fluid and precise. Draco felt vaguely clumsy by comparison. As soon as the wizards were in their positions a blast of red sparks shot out of Flitwick's wand.
Draco lashed out, "Incendio! Bomarda! Confringo! Sectumsepra!" The Auror-grade spell chain shot from his wand. And he watched with rising horror as Potter nonverbally blocked or countered each one of his spells, only Potter's wand arm moved and his face was split into a ferocious grin. Potter didn't make a move, obviously he was content to allow Draco make a fool of himself.
"Crucim Obicio!" The Duelist's Barrier rippled and he heard three voices outside the barrier simultaneously cast the spell. Immediately Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott were at his side, casting spells as they advanced. "Imperium Obicio!" He felt the barrier fall under his control and solidify. Luckily maintaining the spell was far less taxing than conjuring it.
Professor Snape had shown him the strengths and weaknesses of the Duelist's Barrier the previous summer. Now the dome would only disengage if Draco dismissed it, or if he was rendered unconscious. Of course, the diminutive professor could dispel the Dome, but doing so could potentially cause magical feedback that would harm the surrounding students.
As his friends joined him, he expected to see panic flitter across Potter's face, instead Draco watched as his nemesis visage became an image of grim determination. Draco knew that he had already forfeited the duel, but he'd be damned if Potter didn't pay for it!
He and his friends had spent time learning group tactics over the summer and they filled the air with curses. As they spread apart to form a semicircle Draco shouted, "Terebero!" His yellow curse sped through the air alongside his friends disarming charm and stunning spells. It had been decided that Draco alone would use damaging curses, the others would use disabling curses, so that they could avoid harsh punishment.
They were now in an ideal combat position: they had distinct lines of fire and were spread out enough so that no single curse chain would take down more than one of them.
Potter smoothly dodged to the side of his curse and blocked the others. He and his friends kept up a steady battery of spells, not allowing Potter a moment to counter attack. His enemy blocked, dodged, and countered the curses at a lightning pace. Draco had only seen such skill from his father and from Professor Snape, he redoubled his efforts unwilling to allow the young wizard a moment of respite.
It was only a matter of time, until Potter made a mistake.
After long seconds of harrying their prey with precise spells, one of Crabbe's curses flew errantly over Potter's furiously dodging form.
"Bombarda Maximus!" Potter roared as he took advantage of the miscue. There was a very powerful blast in the center of the Dueling Circle and dust clogged the air.
Draco cast a powerful shield charm to block any incoming fire, and shied away as his shield was shattered, a second later he registered something striking out at him from his left. Instinctively, he lifted his left forearm to fend off the attack. He heard a crack and felt a stab of pain. Belatedly he registered that Potter had attacked him like a muggle. Another movement barely had time to register from his left, and Draco knew darkness.
Draco felt a nasty headache as he returned to consciousness. The smell of various potions assaulted his nose. Opening his eyes he saw Madam Pomphrey, Professor Snape, and his mother. The latter made him groan, he was sure to get mothered to death.
"Narcissa, it seems that your son has awoken." Snape said.
"Oh Draco, thank Merlin you're alright. I was worried that that filthy half-blood had brained you!" His mother's voice was awash with maternal love.
"Perhaps, he would have been doing our house a favor." Draco recognized the voice of his father, he turned his head to find his father and Dumbledore entering the Hospital Ward. His father looked entirely displeased. "You have been unconscious for almost an entire day, since Potter used muggle means to knock you unconscious." His father managed to convey sheer loathing in the word 'muggle'.
"Perhaps he should be punished for his barbaric use of force." Draco's mother said.
"Narcissa, I have already been over this with your Husband. It is true that the use of physical force in duels is illegal, but your son had already forfeited the match by the time he was attacked. Mr. Potter was acting to extricate himself from a situation that young Draco had caused." The old fool's tone was laced with steel.
Narcissa merely sniffed and proceeded to fluff Draco's pillow. Dumbledore addressed Draco, his eyes lacking their usual mirth.
"Mr. Malfoy while it brings me comfort to see you awake, and with your wits about you. There is the serious matter of your punishment. You instigated an attack on another student clearly outside the bounds of a formal duel. The fact that your co-conspirators were aiming to disable, the Blunting Charm remaining upon your wand, and Mr. Potter's own skill will keep you from expulsion." Dumbledore glanced at Lucius for a second. Draco knew that his father had stepped in on his behalf. "Instead you will serve a month of detentions with Professor McGonagall."
A month of detentions! He was about to tell the old codger where to stuff it, when he saw the look on his father's face. He promptly swallowed his outburst.
The old man excused himself and Pomphrey made herself scarce.
The next two hours consisted of his father and Professor Snape extracting their pounds of flesh. His mother tried to defend him, but both men dissected her arguments swiftly.
By the time he was left alone, Draco felt like something that could've been scraped off of the bottom of Filch's shoes.
As soon as Potter had knocked him out, the dome had immediately dissipated. His allies had been summarily disarmed and stunned, it was no comfort to know that the three of them would be receiving their own detentions with Filch.
It had been an unmitigated failure, his carefully cultivated reputation had been besmirched, and even worse House Potter had won a resounding victory against House Malfoy.
It was not until Sunday that he was allowed to leave, none of his friends had been allowed to visit. His father had forbidden it.
As he trudged from the infirmary, Draco came across a pool of water and a crowd of students, including Potter and Longbottom.
He pulled himself out of his morose thoughts. On the stone wall, illuminated by the flickering lights of the torches, in what looked like blood, was written:
The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware.
Below the message, stood the petrified form of Mrs. Norris.
As Filch advanced down the corridor a despondent look marring his features, Draco laughed inwardly. Potter may have triumphed in the interim, but the Heir of Slytherin would put things to rights!
