Chapter 12: Mudblood

The public outcry at the news that almost fifty percent of Hogwarts' students lost their belongings shook the very foundations of the ministry. The post office reported an unprecedented influx of howlers, angry letters and nasty bewitched, or otherwise harmful, packages addressed to every top-level ministry official. It got so bad, that after only three hours of work, it was declared that the ministry was closed for the rest of the day bar the most urgent matters, and all hands were redirected to deal with the mail flood.

At roughly the same time, elves at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry also had their little hands full. As soon as the first angry howler arrived during breakfast, accusing him of going senile and being unable to protect his students, Headmaster Dumbledore activated a special ward redirecting all letters addressed to him or the institution to a special room, where it could be safely stored until checked for any surprises. That it was completely soundproof was a bonus, considering the love the wizarding public had for howlers.

Even Gringotts didn't manage to go completely scot-free as some individuals assumed that the goblins must have been a part of the conspiracy because they refused to give away the identity of the culprit. The warrior race didn't pull any punches though, and as soon as the first angry customer barged in to give the goblins an earful, he immediately regretted it when informed that his fees for keeping his money in the bank would now be doubled or tripled, if he didn't leave immediately.

When the news got around that goblins would punish those overly vocal, many hurried to - hopefully - stop their letters from being sent to the bank.

It was rather interesting Wednesday morning in Wizarding Britain.

===#^#===

Wednesday was also the day, when it was decided that theory lessons at Hogwarts would be suspended until Monday, to give those that lost their possessions time to buy new books and writing utensils. The faculty didn't dare to postpone practical lessons as well, because this school year would already be fully-packed, with the Triwizard Tournament, and they needed every hour available to teach students what they needed for their exams.

For Hadrian and his year, it meant that that they would get Moody first thing after the breakfast. He was curious, with all the rumours circulating about the man. Would he bully children of the known death eaters? Would he hex them randomly during the lesson? Would he be any good, allowing them to learn something?

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" roared the man in question, walking into the classroom and causing several students to jump in fear at the unexpected noise. "Well, why don't you have your wands ready?" he barked, while stomping to the front of the room. "The way I see it, you all would be dead if I wanted to launch a surprise attack. I know your education here was abysmal, but you should know the basics by heart! It should be your instinct! Expelliarmus! You are dead, Malfoy! What did I tell you about constant vigilance? You don't know me, for all you know I could be an impersonator trying to kill you all!" he ranted, with many wide eyes following his movements. "Let's set some rules, what do you say? Rule number one: expect the unexpected! Rule number two: If I attack you, don't hesitate to fight back! I assure you, whatever you can throw at me, it won't be enough to harm me! Rule number three, for ignoring rule number two, you will find yourself in detention! You do not want to have detentions with me, unless you like to be hexed! Any questions?" Moody looked around the classroom. Seeing none, he swiftly aimed his wand in the general direction of the classroom and fired a tickling charm, which promptly hit Amy McMahon.

"You girl, are dead! I hit you with Rictusempra, but you didn't know this! Silver colour could also mean any number of serious hexes, blood boiling curse included! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he finished with a roar.

Hadrian looked wide-eyed at the mayhem that this class turned into. Whatever he expected, this wasn't it. Moody, while certainly knowledgeable, seemed to also be completely unstable. Good thing that he restrained himself to firing mostly non-dangerous spells, but it was only their first lesson with the man. By the end of the year, they would either all be proficient warriors… or dead. He ended his musings when it seemed that their teacher calmed down a little, and sat behind his desk.

"What do you know about unforgivables?" The ex-auror asked. "Weasley, go ahead."

"The worst curses ever, right? You can go to Azkaban for using them."

"Essentially correct, at least when it comes to the Azkaban part. I'd be cautious when calling them the worst curses ever. In fact, I'd rather be killed with a quick Avada Kedavra than with an organ-expelling curse, and I'd rather take Cruciatus than have my blood boiled, with the combination of blood-freezing charm, for hours," he mused, not paying even the slightest attention to the rapidly paling students. "No, they are definitely not the worst. We will go back to this point later. Now, can anyone tell me what those two curses do, and name the last one? Yes, Mr. Thomas?" He nodded to the dark-skinned boy.

"Avada kedavra is a killing curse and the cruciatus causes pain. The last one controls a person... It's something like... Emporio?" he finished uncertain.

"Imperius," Moody nodded. "You are correct, Mr. Thomas, take five points. Now, I have here," he took a big glass jar, with a moderately sized spider inside, "a spider. I will demonstrate the unforgivables for you. Normally, I wouldn't do so, but I've managed to obtain a permission from the ministry. Watch carefully. Imperio!" he said, while pointing his wand at the arachnid, which promptly started to dance. Some students started laughing, but one look from Moody silenced them.

"You think it funny, having to do anything you are ordered to? Being a prisoner in your own body, unable to resist order to slain your entire family? Well, I don't think so. Crucio!" he yelled suddenly, and the spider started writhing in an obvious pain. Moody kept it under it for a few seconds, and then ended its life with the killing curse.

"Those three curses are considered to be especially dangerous." He started speaking to a deadly silent class. "Not because they can cause harm, no. Many others can, and they don't carry life sentence in Azkaban as unforgivables do. It's not the matter of intent, even though many people in the ministry, or even your headmaster, would like you to believe. It's not true that to use them, one has to be dark, or willing to do harm. In fact, each of the unforgivables might be used to do something good. For example," he raised his hand to forestall protests. "The killing curse might be used to defend others from a terrorist or to relieve a terminally ill patient from suffering. Imperius could be used to prevent a person from committing suicide or carrying out a terror attack. Cruciatus curse was used as a mean to restart a patient's heart in St. Mungo's," he counted. "No, the real reason is that you can't shield yourself against them with magical means. There is no magical shield or a technique that would work if confronted with an unforgivable directly. Spell swatting won't work, most wards will let them through, and spell-resistant clothes won't help you. The only possible way of defending yourself is to use a physical barrier, either existing one or a conjured," he explained, and then promptly yelled, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" sending a stinging hex towards Hadrian, who managed to duck before returning fire. Distantly, he heard a yelp from behind him, but he was too engrossed in trying to shield against Moody to pay attention. Ultimately, it took five minutes of an ad hoc duelling before Hadrian got hit by a stunner. Cautiously, the rest of the students raised from their makeshift bunkers made out of their bags and desks, trying to assess the situation; just in time to be hit by a powerful, area-wide stunner.

#^#

"Completely bonkers, I told you so!" ranted Draco, when they were walking down the defense corridor. "I just can't believe it, why can't Dumbledore for once find a competent teacher? Am I really asking for so much, a professor that wouldn't be a peacock, a werewolf or a crazy ex-auror trying to kill us?"

"Well, to be fair, Quirrell was a good teacher," Hadrian said. "Actually, I asked him at the end of the last year if he could teach us again, but he was reluctant. Shame..." he sighed, and sighed again as they passed by the infamous Gryffindor trio, Weasley, Finnegan and Longbottom. It was clear they were scheming; and he was sure it wouldn't lead to anything good, based on their previous 'adventures'. For now, as they had no more lessons, he wanted to go back to his dorm and finish reading a book on the history of Triwizard Tournament.

#^#

The Triwizard Tournament was abandoned several centuries ago, as the death toll mounted too high. In absolute numbers, it stood at 37 dead throughout the tournament history; fourteen from Beauxbatons, fifteen from Hogwarts and only eight from Durmstrang. The reason for such statistically significant difference was simple: Durmstrang inflicted the most damage upon other champions, attacking them in-between the tasks, taking advantage of their status as a diplomatic envoys (and thus, under immunity till the end of the Tournament) and the fact, that direct attacks were not prohibited by the rules. While an Avada Kedavra happened only twice, there were several recorded instances of "third-party induced drownings" and at least one Beauxbatons' champion fell prey to an angry Acromantula that somehow managed to cross the wards right next to the french delegation.

Pondering about this, Hadrian realized that the arrival for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations was scheduled for this Sunday.

===#^#===

"I call this friday's session to order!" announced chairman Diggory. When the ruckus subsided a little bit, he continued. "Thank you. We originally were supposed to discuss the Quidditch proposal by representatives Malfoy and Weasley and the proposal to declare the word 'mudblood' as offensive and banned in school. However, it has been brought to my attention that there is an urgent matter that we should attend to as soon as possible. Namely, two of our representatives from Gryffindor, Weasley and Longbottom, have been punished harshly for their actions, and it is the request of their head of house, Professor McGonagall, that their immunity be repealed. I must confess that I have no idea what this is about, so without further ado I give the floor to Professor McGonagall. Professor?"

The Deputy Headmistress gracefully rose from her chair and approached the lectern, where she started talking immediately.

"Yes, thank you. I'm here today because it is my sincere belief that the two boys in question, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom must be punished for their actions yesterday. I'm loath to describe such events publically, but as in this case it is also their wish to be evaluated by peers, by you, I shall start from the beginning.

Yesterday afternoon, Professor Moody was leaving his classroom, having finished with lessons for the day. He managed to lock the door, when he was unexpectedly attacked by three students, whom he later identified as Longbottom, Weasley and Finnegan. The fight, if I can call it so, lasted for no more than a minute; as soon as all three boys were stunned, Professor Moody called for my assistance. After they woke up, they told us that they were certain that Professor Moody is an impostor, trying to do some, and I quote, nasty dark business. As their reason for attack was, eh, noble, we won't push for them to be expelled. However, I believe that detention every Monday for the rest of the term is a sound punishment, one I'd like to see happening. Thank you," she finished and left the stand. At the end of her tale, many students were groaning disbelievingly. Just by looking at their reactions one could guess on how would the vote go.

"Thank you, Professor. Now, I believe, we need to hear the accused party? Representatives Weasley and Longbottom, will each of you provide a statement, or will one speak for the both of you?"

The two boys looked at each other and started talking quietly. After a while their discussion got heated, and it was obvious they wouldn't reach an agreement any time soon.

"Well?" Cedric drawled, raising his brow. "If you can't decide, you shall speak individually, is that okay?"

"It is," Ron angrily said. "I just wanted to say that I'm convinced something is wrong with Moody. He is supposed to be an auror, catching dark wizards, and no auror would ever show us unforgivables or attack us. He constantly sips from his flask; I bet that's where he keeps his polyjuice potion!" he finished heatedly, pointing accusingly at the teacher, who - as if mocking him - took a slow sip from his flask. Seeing this, Professor McGonagall decided to stand up and speak again.

"Just to clarify, I have personally checked Professor's Moody flask, and it most certainly is not a polyjuice potion. He has also kindly agreed to stay under supervision for over an hour to prove his identity. Thank you."

"Thank you, Professor. Representative Weasley, is that all or would you like to say something else?"

Ronald, now almost burgund from anger, made his first wise decision within 24 hours, and decided to stay silent and sit down. Seeing this, Cedric motioned for Neville Longbottom to speak up.

"I... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I got carried away under a... bad influence; I'm not going to fight the punishment." Neville declared silently, and sat.

"Well, in that case we will now vote on Ronald Weasley. I'm not really in the mood for prolonged formalities, so just touch the proper stone. As we are here on the request of Professor McGonagall, we will vote whether to allow a punishment. So touch the white stone if you want Mr. Weasley to be punished, or black if you think that immunity should be upheld. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, you are both not eligible to vote on this matter. Please, vote now, thank you. The votes are, well, quite unanimous. All for allowing the punishment. Professors, I'll have a formal approval of your request prepared and delivered to you as soon as this session ends," Cedric said, looking at the deputy headmistress, who in turn nodded primly.

"Now, I believe, is the correct moment to discuss the proposition to ban certain word. I know many of you would rather talk about Quidditch..." he trailed, to several laughs. "However, as Quidditch season doesn't normally starts by now anyway, we can postpone that discussion for another day. I now give the floor to representative Granger, who kindly agreed to sponsor this proposal."

Well, this is going to be fun, Hadrian thought, while Granger made her way to the lectern. She cleared her throat and started speaking in a business like manner.

"Thank you. Each and every one of you know the word 'mudblood'. It is one of the most widespread offensive and derogatory word, one that has absolutely no positive connotations. It can't be argued that it is otherwise neutral word that has been given bad publicity, as it is, even at the most basic linguistic level, aimed to demean people, describing them as possessing bad, dirty, mudded blood, usually in opposition to so called pure-bloods. You also can't really argue that it is so widespread as to not cause offence; it is still seen, by the majority of population, as an invective. Even those that normally have no qualms about using it, usually refrain from doing so in the so called 'polite presence', during balls or other official events where they are acting in their capacity as, say, an heir to the house or a lord even.

You could, probably, point out that what I'm aiming for is a censorship. And you would be right, it really is. Ask yourself this: would you like to be singled out, ridiculed and insulted based on your height, weight, skin color, or ethnicity? I doubt it. In fact, I've consulted it with several professors; if one of you were to call someone 'fatty', 'ape', 'coon', 'nigger', 'chink' or 'paki', this would cause severe and immediate responses, because even though there is nothing in the rules that says specifically about using those words, they are generally seen as offensive. Yet, 'mudblood', is a problem?" She was speaking passionately, and it was clear many agreed with her. "Respectable members, I have prepared a simple proposal of a new school law for you, which you can read as it is in your packets for today's session. If passed, it would subject anyone using this disgusting word, or any derivatives, to disciplinary action at the teacher's discretion. Thank you."

"Thank you representative Granger. Well, I believe it's time for discussion, so... yes, I see you Mr. Malfoy, you are second, right after representative Turpin. Miss Turpin?"

The discussion was very heated, with several breaks necessary to allow some cooling down. As expected, the dark faction was dead set on striking down this proposal, while those generally associated with light side were trying to enforce their vision of school without slurps. Eventually, feeling that he heard most of the arguments, Hadrian decided to speak up himself.

"Members of the Council, you have provided us all with many important points to consider. What I'd like to say now is, to be honest, only loosely related to the word 'mudblood', as I'm going to talk about the broader picture. As Hermione kindly noted, her proposition is, basically, censorship. While in general I can't disagree that 'mudblood' shall not be used, I can't agree with the proposed method. You see, once we start targeting specific words or phrases, it really is an inclined plane. We ban the word 'mudblood', and some will start using it just to rebel against the censorship, while others will think of a different word. You have put sort of a failsafe for such contingency, writing about derivatives, but how far can we go? If those willing to use slurps start calling people 'dirty blooded', will this be considered derivative? And if they come up with 'dirties' or something similar? And what if they'll begin using word 'muggleborns' - but with enough venom and contempt that it will sound as an invective, what then? Will you try to ban modulating one's voice?

Members of the Council, while I recognize honourable, and genuinely good intentions of those behind this project, I say the methods are very, very wrong, and I ask that you vote against it. Thank you."

And just like that, another round of yelling started, until, finally, Cedric had enough. He let a loud bang out of his wand, calling all present to attention.

"I doubt we will achieve anything by prolonging this discussion. I'd like to ask representative Granger: would you like for the vote to be held now, or would you rather we cool down a little and reassemble tomorrow for the vote?"

Hermione looked conflicted for a moment, obviously trying to assess what will be better. Eventually, she nodded her head resolutely and asked for the vote.

"Very well. You all know the rules; I think it will be beneficial if this vote is also secretive, so no putting your hands in the air, just tap the correct stone. White if you are for banning the word 'mudblood', and black if you are against. Vote now."

The air was so thick with tension that it was almost palpable. What lasted only few seconds in reality, seemed like much longer for all those present. Finally, the results came.

"The results are as follows: ten votes for the new law, and eleven against. The law is struck down. I believe that's enough for today, we will reassemble tomorrow at 6 pm to talk about the Quidditch proposal and several petitions from the students. Thank you and have a good night."

#^#

Hermione Granger was fuming. She was certain that her proposal was reasonable and well presented; she had not expected any opposition apart from the die-hard traditionalists. She was very tempted to blame it all on Hadrian; she saw faces of several members while he was talking, how they changed their decision then and there. That would be counterproductive, so she decided to polish her arguments, make her proposed piece more precise and try again soon; this was, after all, a very important proposal, and she would do everything to make it law.

#^#

To no one's surprise, the following day wasn't even half so heated. The Quidditch proposal was accepted by almost everyone, decreeing that a Quidditch tournament would happen at Hogwarts, rules to be exactly the same as during the normal School Cup. Several different petitions were also filed, but none of them contained anything even remotely interesting, and they were quickly taken care of, to the relief of all assembled, including Cedric, who promptly closed this session and left.

===#^#===

"Attention everyone. Be prepared in ten minutes sharp, the whole school will greet the arriving guests outside," barked Professor Snape as soon as he strode into the Slytherin's common room.

"Professor, but they are not due for another two hours, and it's raining," some bold third-year whined. The Potions Master's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"It's the headmaster's decision, Mr. Afleck. You will do as you are told."

"I think not, professor," Hadrian's voice carried out from across the room, as he started approaching his head of house. "It is Sunday, so no classes, it is nothing to do with the security of the school or safety of the students, and, as Mr. Afleck correctly stated, it is raining. As per the rules, extracurricular activities - which this event is - are completely voluntary, and I, for one, am not going to volunteer, professor."

Severus Snape suddenly saw white. Oh how he loathed this boy, how he would like to take him down a peg! Unfortunately, the kid knew the rules by heart, and he could hardly do anything, especially now, that he had that blasted immunity. However, Severus was nothing if not patient. He would wait, but for now...

"Potter, do whatever you want; I don't care. The rest of you, I suggest that you all volunteer or there will be consequences," he finished and quickly left, with his trademark billowing robes. Hadrian raised one brow and departed for his room.

#^#

"That was very impressive, Hadrian," a female voice purred from the direction of the door. Hadrian spun around; he was just about to start reading the book about linguistic charms, taking advantage of an empty common room and some peace, hoping to find something that would help him with translation of Salazar Slytherin's hidden library. There, in the doorway, stood Pansy Parkinson.

"Pansy, what are you doing here?" he asked, genuinely surprised to see her. She was never a stickler to the rules, but to so boldly disobey their head of house, and that without the immunity, well, it was almost Gryffindorishly brave... or stupid.

"I got bored standing and soaking there. Nobody checks what's going on, and with the mass of students, I doubt I'll be missed," she explained, making her way to him. "You know Hadrian, I really think that the way you spoke out against Professor Snape was very impressive and brave," and there it was again, purring. Hadrian couldn't help but become slightly enticed with the way the girl was walking towards him.

"You think so?"

"Oh yes. And I think that you deserve some sort of a reward," she said, sitting on his lap.

Ah, why the hell not?

#^#

The snogging session was long enough, that when Hadrian and Pansy finished, they decided to head for the general vicinity of the great hall, in hopes of intercepting the mass of students coming back from the ceremony.

"Pansy, just so that we are perfectly clear, this means nothing, right?" Hadrian said, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably.

"Of course," the girl agreed easily. "As I said, that was a reward, no strings attached. I'm not interested in any kind of relationship anytime soon anyway," she added a while after.

"That's good, 'cause that's exactly the way I feel; I don't think I'm gonna be any good with this relationship things," he admitted. "I'm certainly open to flings, because hell, why not?"

"Yeah, Potter, why not?" Pansy answered, winking at him. Just then they heard the unmistakable sound of a crowd approaching, and they joined it. It was a surprisingly pleasant way to spend a welcoming ceremony.