Oh, and thanks to some advice from my reviewers, I've decided to generally stay with only one or two pov's per chapter, so if anyone is confused, it'll make it easier.
I don't own Harry Potter or his world - but if I did, well.no, that wouldn't be a good idea.probably better that I don't. Please don't sue me.
Lessons and confrontations.
When first looking at Professor Flitwick, it was hard to think that this...dwarf? Munchkin? Thing...was one of the premier duelists in England. He was rather like a hummingbird - light, with a fluttering voice, and his wand was like a darting beak, moving with precise exactness and speed. He made it look easy.
Willing, despite his skepticism, to give it a try, Luc picked up the wand Lucius had bought for him at Ollivander's. He had not touched it since first unpacking it - his master didn't approve of "foolish wand-waving", and he had never before held or used a wand in his life. He didn't need to - he had the ardeur.
Copying the correct hand movement along with the rest of the Slytherins and Ravenclaws in the room, he concentrated on letting his magic flow through the wand, and then letting it go when he spoke the spell. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he tapped into his magic, let it flow into the wand, concentrated on what he wanted to achieve, and then simultaneously swished, flicked and said "Wingardium Leviosa". The feather didn't move.
Trying again, he reached for more power, concentrated harder, and fiercely willed the feather to rise into the air, but it stayed stubbornly still. Next to him, Dirk's feather was dancing in the air, controlled by small motions of his wand. Concentrating on copying his movements, Luc tried again. It didn't work.
Very coolly, he reached out with his magic and tried to lift the feather without the wand. Without making any gestures, without saying a word, he concentrated on moving the feather, willing it to rise. He felt the magic flow through him and watched the feather lift off the desk, absently noting the scent of sandalwood suddenly permeating the air. That was the scent of the ardeur, and he hardly noticed it anymore.
Dirk set his feather down and whispered, amused, "You're cheating, Luc. You have to use the wand, remember?"
"I did," he whispered back. "It didn't work." He handed the wand to Dirk, who made a show of examining it, holding it up to his ear and shaking it. Then he gripped it, swished, flicked and intoned the spell, and then watched in some considerable amusement as the feather, once again, responded to his command. Had he not been so well trained, Luc would have scowled. As it was, he settled for a pointed look and a threatening glance at the offending feather.
Gripping the wand once more, there was an air of grim determination about him as he repeated the spell again. Reaching for his magic he once again channeled it through the wand, theoretically letting it flow through him, into the wand, and then out into the ether, where it would manipulate the physical world.
Flitwick came by as he failed once more. Watching his movements, gauging the movement of his magic, he said, "Let the magic flow into the wand, Mr. Malfoy. Let me see you try again." He complied, once again without success. With a curious "hmmm," Flitwick asked him if he could do it without a wand. Grey eyes assessed him, wondering how much the professor knew, before setting the wand down and lifting the feather solely with the ardeur.
"Hmmmm, very interesting," the professor murmured to himself, intrigued. "You've got the correct motions and intonation, and more than enough power - but it's simply not flowing through the wand." Suddenly his dark eyes flitted to the clock, which pointed to "End of lesson time" and he seemed to pull himself back from the land of intellectual fascination. Dismissing the class, he turned to Luc, who was putting away his wand with deliberate motions that spoke of finality. "Come see me at my office tonight, Mr. Malfoy, and we'll try to see why you can't channel magic through a wand." He smiled. "Run along now. You don't want to be late for Professor Snape's class." The twinkle in his eye seemed rather forced, telling Luc that Fltiwick, and probably all of the staff, were more than aware of his relationship with Snape. And they didn't approve.
With a nod, Luc picked up his books and walked out, joining Dirk in the corridor outside.
"So what's wrong? Did he say why you couldn't do it?" Dirk seemed rather amused at the thought that he could do something Luc couldn't. Of course, Dirk's father had started teaching him magic from the cradle, and he was more than proficient with any number of curses, hexes and nasty spells.
"He says the magic isn't moving through the wand." He jogged lightly down the stairs that led into the dungeon.
"What?" Dirk hurried after him.
"The magic is supposed to go from me through the wand..."
"Hey, Malfoy bastard, heard you had a little trouble in Charms. Could it be that you're so used to using sex magic that you can't use the real thing?" The taunting voice belonged to Caine de Sauvigny, his angelic blue eyes glinting with malicious amusement. Luc and Dirk looked to his companions. His Gryffindor cousin (was it Adam?) stood beside him, and slightly behind them, standing uncomfortably, were Dominic and Michel de Sauvigny.
Before he could answer, another voice spoke up. "Do I detect a little dissension in the ranks, Malfoy?" Brandon Avery, cool and amused as ever.
"Don't worry Avery, I'll take care of it." Luc answered dismissively, but there was real meaning behind his promise. He would make sure Dominic and Michel learned their place - and it was not, despite what they might like to think, beside the Golden Child of House de Sauvigny.
"Really, Malfoy? How? Are you going to sic Snape on them? Because that's the only way your threat will ever pack a punch."
Dirk winced, looked to Luc for his reaction, and felt the hair rise on the back of his neck as he saw the other boy turn back, slowly, to face his half-brother. There was no perceptible change in his expression or his demeanour, but his eyes were feral. He held up his hand, palm forward, to show he was not using a wand, and then slowly, slowly clenched it into a fist. As his hand closed, Caine's eyes widened and he clutched wildly at his throat, gasping for air.
A cruel, cruel smile curled Luc's lips into an expression reminiscent of the Potions Master at his finest, and he finished closing his hand, causing Caine to fall to his knees. He spoke, voice velvet soft and purring, but with a vicious edge. "I find your lack of faith disturbing, de Sauvigny."
Suddenly the door to the Potions classroom swung open and Professor Snape stalked forth, slowly, surveying the scene with detached, cynical interest. Luc nonchalantly released his fist, allowing Caine to suck in his breath, wheezing desperately.
"What are you doing on the floor, Mr. de Sauvigny?"
Adam spoke up. "Malfoy was choking him, sir, with his magic."
"Is that so?" His gaze swung to Luc, who was standing completely at ease, hands tucked loosely into the pockets of his robes.
"Yes, sir," Luc replied neutrally.
"Dare I ask why?" Luc knew that tone of voice, and it boded no good for any of them. Discretion, he decided, was the better part of valour.
"He was provoking me, sir."
Snape raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, which was never a good sign. Luc almost sighed when he turned those dangerous eyes back to Caine.
"10 points from Gryffindor for stirring up trouble, de Sauvigny." His voice almost dared anyone to react.
Adam took the bait. "But you can't do that!"
"And ten more for back chatting." Adam shut his mouth.
"As for you, Mr. Malfoy..." here he pinned Luc with an icy glare. "You will report to me after your appointment with Professor Flitwick, and we will discuss this.incident."
Luc nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Very well." His eyes swept the rest of the students gathered for the lesson. "What are you waiting for? We are ten minutes into the lesson, and we haven't even started. Stop gawking and get inside the classroom." And with that parting shot, he swept back into the room, and they all filed in after him for their very first Potions lesson.
Later that night, after an unproductive hour with Flitwick, who had simply told him that he had to concentrate on letting the magic flow through the wand and not his body, he knocked on Snape's door.
"Enter," came the smooth, silky voice. He pushed open the door, listened with amusement to the long, tortured groan of the hinges, and went in. Without being asked or invited, he sank into the chair in front of the desk, watching Snape write with a long, snow white quill. It made an almost imperceptible scratching noise in the hushed room.
"Well, well, Mr Malfoy. It hasn't even been one day yet, and you have already caused trouble." Snape spoke without lifting his head from his paperwork.
Luc didn't bother protesting. "It was a matter of face, sir."
Snape's head came up at that, and he fixed Luc with a cool, analytical gaze.
"One thing you will have to learn, Mr Malfoy, is that in this school, all students, whether High Clan, canaille or even muggle born, are of equal status. Face, High Clan ways - they are worth nothing here. You may protest this, refuse to abide by the rules and make life very tiresome for yourself, or you may take advantage of the opportunity it presents. Play the pro-Gryffindor game. These seven years will be the only time in your life when you face de Sauvigny on an equal basis. Now is the time to show you can rule the House."
He smiled thinly, changing from Professor to protector, mentor. "I have no doubt that you are more than capable, Lucien. You are, after all, a Malfoy - deception and hypocrisy should come as naturally as breathing."
Luc's lips curled slightly, in faint amusement. "Thank you, sir."
Snape nodded, his eyes turning back to his book in dismissal. As Luc stood up to go, the voice came after him. "Oh, and one more thing, Malfoy?"
Luc, halfway to the door, paused and turned.
"You do realize that if you ever require punishment, for appearance's sake, as your 'protector'," he gave the word a bitter emphasis, "I will have to be the one to administer it?"
His face blank, impassive, Luc nodded. Oh, yes he knew. Appearances needed to be kept. And now, at the height of the Dark Lord's reign, it was more important than ever that the spy in his ranks never be found out.
Look the flower, but be the serpent under't.
"Yes, sir," he said, and walked out.
A/N so what did you think? I might be a while posting more chapters - it's coming up on midsemester now, and I have assessment nearly every week. But I'll try to make time to write, in between all my other stuff.
And yes, the line about the serpent and the flower is from Shakespeare's Macbeth - but you all knew that, of course.
Read and Review, please!
