Autor's Note:
Many thanks for the last review of "Smithback".
Initiated Progression
"It's really crazy. Apparently Rabastan has confessed to hundreds of misdeeds. Just like that, without any pressure. His family is probably burning with anger," Birch remarked three days after Percy's magical character corrections were made. Lestrange, meanwhile, had been remanded in custody at the Ministry. Percy had achieved his goal in this matter.
"How do you know what he said? Not even the Daily Prophet has been able to give deeper insights. Despite their sensationalism, they usually have pretty good sources," Percy replied with interest. Indeed, the reprehensible journalistic tradition in magical Britain had struck with full force: rampant speculation, harebrained rumours and, on the fringes, some presentation of the sober facts.
"As I told Ealar before you sat down, my father wrote to me. And he got the information from my uncle, who has good relations with the Aurors," Birch explained impatiently. "Anyway, Rabastan is said to be acting totally strange. He talks about his torture sessions as naturally and unaffectedly as if he were talking about the weather. And at the same time he bursts into fits of weeping about how he has not been able to help them. No one knows what he means by this. Uncle Alcor thinks the fellow is completely off his rocker. He's always seemed rather quiet to me."
"Oh, I don't know," interjected Fladbury, who had already been busy sowing the ugliest possible rumours over the past few days. "He always looked particularly sinister when he felt unobserved. I always knew there was something wrong with him."
With a sardonic grin, MacGaradh replied, "But that sounded quite different a year ago. You were heartbroken that he didn't invite you to Hogsmeade after all your advances."
Percy dropped out of the conversation at this point and concentrated on his breakfast. Teenage drama he could only take in very small doses. And already, after his short time at Hogwarts, he had realised he would have to resign himself to having to endure large amounts of it. Birch and Ciogach were the most tolerable of all the students he had had close contact with.
They were quite simple-minded on an emotional level and reminded him of a more educated version of his former classmate Tom Harrow, who was probably the closest thing he had had to a friend at Hogwarts. He had been a little undereducated, but eager to learn and, above all, blessed with a calm, almost unwavering temperament.
The other boys in his dormitory, on the other hand, were loud, undisciplined and always arguing about some petty matter, which Percy remained out of with rolling eyes. For good reason, he spent little time there. Instead, he continued his planning in his little retreat. These were now divided into three topics: his own safety at Hogwarts, Rowy's relocation and the creation of new runes to anchor compulsions.
The construction of security measures against hypothetical unforeseen cross-shots from the camp of future Death Eaters was already in its final stages. He had created a so-called Revenge Curse Artefact. As soon as someone hit him with a curse two things would happen: First, the attacker would be hit with a very painful blinding curse that could only be lifted by Percy as long as no expensive curse breaker was paid for it. Secondly, something comparable to an Enervate Charm on oneself was generated. That was all there was to such an object. And he would have to create a new one when the effect had been triggered.
Of course, that wasn't particularly helpful in all situations. But most witches and wizards liked to use the standard shock spell before maltreating their victim with further curses so that those could not defend themselves. For as long as even a child with a lucky hit could take out the most skilled dark mage, such forethought was simply necessary. Other ideas, such as a perimeter alarm that immediately informed him as soon as a curse was cast in his direction at a certain distance so that he could dodge it, were not yet mature enough to tie them to an object.
As for Rowy, Percy was deeply undecided whether the rituals he had concocted would work as he had planned. He himself found no fault with his latest conception, but that didn't have to mean anything. And he only had one shot at it. After all, there were no other obscure animate objects lying around anywhere.
For a moment, he had even jokingly considered capturing Peeves just for this, to have a guinea pig. But he strongly doubted that he would succeed. Contrary to his superficial appearance as a rather harmless prankster, Peeves was an ancient, incredibly powerful entity. Rituals to capture him had failed several times in the past. Some of them with dead bodies involved.
He would have to let Rowy look into it herself. After all, the entity had to have at least some of Ravenclaw's intellect in her. But he wasn't going to rush it. He couldn't risk losing their knowledge of the Horcruxes.
But the last subject of his private studies, which he carried out as far as he didn't have to write any of the tedious essays as homework, gave him the biggest headache. Contrary to what he had suggested to Birch, Percy knew a little more than the common population through Ignatius and Lucretia. After all, his new father sat in a hereditary seat in the Wizengamot and consequently had access to all sorts of channels in the legal system.
Lestrange's behaviour was also described by Ignatius as highly alarming. In his great optimism, Percy had greatly miscalculated the side effects. The student, now perpetually excluded from Hogwarts, showed all the signs of extreme emotional interactions which, in their suddenness of occurrence, could really only be caused by unnatural or dark magic.
Lestrange vacillated between suicidal self-hatred and happy rapture. Only in the fleeting periods in between was he truly responsive. Probably the worst thing for Percy was that Lestrange complained of severe headaches. Apparently the healers had not examined him very closely and Percy's manipulations had remained invisible. Or that was just the impression they wanted to give.
True, they would not be able to trace the compulsions back to him, should they have found them. But knowledge of this could severely limit the effectiveness of any future use of this method. Percy did not know how far such an influence could eat into a sufferer's mind if it was quickly removed. It would not be too difficult to design a Ward that allowed the detection of such an enchantment.
He was snapped out of his musing as an owl settled gently on his shoulder. It was Lucretia's owl Alekto. While his classmates continued to argue about Lestrange's lowly character, Percy detached the letter from Alekto's leg. He gave the old bird a strengthening Owl Treat, which it gratefully accepted and flew away.
No matter what he might think of his adoptive parents, the Great grey owl was an affectionate bird who maintained strict as well as trusting loyalty to the family it served. Like most postal owls, it was a clever magical creature. He had always found the magic of postal owls very impressive. They could fly far faster than would naturally be possible and had tracking abilities far beyond those of most wizards.
Here he missed his old Screech Owl Hermes a little. He had been just as loyal to him. The owl had been something that had belonged only to him. It had sweetened his rise to the position of trusted pupil all the that thought was ridiculous to him, but back then Hermes had also made him feel very special.
"Aren't you going to read the letter?" asked Bellatrix beside him, tilting her head, breaking his reminiscence. "News from home can hardly be that unpleasant."
He shook his head, breaking the seal as he explained to Bellatrix, sighing, "No, not bad news. I rather expect more of the same."
Lucretia had insisted on using a spell to keep their real correspondence from degenerating into vague murmurs, so that an outsider could not guess what it was about. The spell belonged to the class of attention redirection spells. Anyone who did not know about the spell would skip all the even line numbers following from the first line.
Thus, the paper practically housed two letters. One official, where it didn't matter if a third party read it, and one unofficial, where - still carefully worded - the real information was hidden. It was a subtle but effective trick, Percy found. The uninitiated would see no oddity with the letter, even if one line was clearly written much smaller than the other.
The first part, after the greeting, said: "We are pleased that you have already made so many contacts. But knowing you, you probably spend too much time on your private projects and allow friendships to grow only slowly or even wither away. You shouldn't overdo it, after all, your last major experiment put you in Saint Mungos for weeks.
Besides, don't forget, your main purpose at this school is also to find yourself a suitable bride worthy of your station. I know you don't want to hear this. But you are the hope and future of House Prewett and Black. And there won't be one if you lean too heavily on your much-loved role as an eremitic intellectual. You are young and should enjoy that youth - as long as you don't drown in it.
Write to us again soon. Even if you find your studies boring, your exasperated descriptions of them have amused us greatly. Also, more information about your latest ideas would be greatly appreciated - especially what exact purpose they are to serve. With love, Mother and Father."
Fortunately, before his arrival at Hogwarts, they had both accepted that he would wait to carry out this particular task of family preservation until his actual mission, that is, the eradication of Voldemort, had been accomplished. He had made it clear that he had no small amount of disgust at getting involved in a relationship with women who were, in his view, extremely young.
The second part of the letter was more interesting: "If all goes well I or Ignatius will be able to take over the vacant position on the Hogwarts Board of Governors when old Lestrange loses his place there. The fact that his grandson has been found in such a situation has led to his reputation being strongly questioned. There is a murmur, naturally started by us, that he may have helped to cover up other incidents of this kind. Completely absurd of course, but it helps our position.
More detailed descriptions of the effects of what happened to Rabastan Lestrange are still not available. The general assumption seems to be that he had magically suppressed his madness and this artificial dam is now broken. There seems to be no mention of foul play anywhere. The Lestranges themselves are also unusually quiet and hardly protest. Presumably they are well informed about the sadistic nature of their child, so no one even seems to suspect that there might be any unusual circumstances or third party involvement.
Regarding your new interest in Simulacra, I recommend the work: "The Semblance of Life" by Rhun Reagh. It should be available at Hogwarts. If I am wrong, I will get it for you. With further love, your mother."
Percy's concern was only vaguely dampened by the continued ignorance of his manipulations. After all, if there were any suspicions against him, even his apparent parents would not be told. Also, for their move to take the prestigious position of Govenor, he was unsure how well that would go down with the other families and not draw too much light on the Prewett family.
Of course, in the eyes of the other families, they had a good reason to show such interest. After all, they had only sent their son to Hogwarts after an absurdly long period of hesitation and now had to hear about the dreadful goings-on there. Obviously, they would then be interested in exerting more influence on what was going on at the school.
On the other hand, that was exactly what could put him in the spotlight. For to some, it might not seem like a mere coincidence that his arrival at the school occurred at the same time as Lestrange's machinations had been exposed. And he preferred to avoid the potentially unpleasant questions that would be asked, even if he, or the Prewetts, styled him as a hero.
"So nothing new?" inquired Bellatrix as Percy carelessly tucked the letter into his cloak pocket.
"The usual appeals for me to look around for potential wives worthy of my status. That will probably be the main theme in any letters I get from them. Unfortunate, but probably unavoidable."
"I have also received news regarding this matter," Bellatrix explained with a certain agitation in her voice that Percy could not really interpret as positive or negative. "Since Rabastan was unmasked, the prestige of the Lestrange family has plummeted, which is why my father has broken his agreement with the House. I guess me and Rodolphus won't be married after all."
There was almost something expectant in her voice, as if she wanted Percy to say something specific in reply. She couldn't exactly be happy about this situation; after all, she had liked Rodolphus very much and had long accepted him as her husband.
With narrowed eyes, Percy stated, "You are less upset about this than I would have expected."
"Rodolphus was an acceptable option, but he still wasn't ideal. As I said, we get on well, but with him I miss the friction, the excitement. He's quite a yes-man. But now they can't find a replacement so quickly, which is why they need to get me much more involved in this." Bellatrix now said with the corners of her mouth slightly raised. "With Rodolphus, they thought it would be a no-brainer, as my approval was little more than a formality.
But since they don't want their first-born daughter marrying into a rotten house, they now have to rely on my will. The only other obvious choice would be you.
But as I understand it, your parents are opposed to the idea. They believe, for some abstruse reason, that we are too closely related. Since you've fallen away in such a silly way, I now have a free choice. And I'm going to push it as long as I can. I'm not meant to be house-sitting and raising little screaming babies. I need more thrill in my life than that."
As his interest in the subject continued to wane with each word, Percy simply said, "Good for you."
She, however, seemed dissatisfied with this answer. Rather abruptly, after a brief silence between them, she said, "I think you're wrong, by the way."
With a raised eyebrow, Percy then asked, "What am I wrong about?"
"At the opening ceremony you said that it would be dangerous to treat Mudbloods badly because, after all, they would grow from their adversities and eventually overgrow us. But look at Rabastan's victims! They're scared little bunnies."
At this, her gaze slid fleetingly to the huddled group of so-called Half-blood Bastards, who had now developed a certain cohesion. This, however, was mainly thanks to Slughorn, who had strongly advised the "children from unknown families" to find strength among themselves. He had instructed the older ones to look after the welfare of the younger ones like a general tutor - and to ensure that such misdeeds were not repeated.
It was a good thing. Slughorn was perhaps a little blind to the shortcomings of his house, but he knew, if he cared to, how to deal with such a situation. There would be big consequences. In Percy's timeline, this had never developed. It would virtually create its own sub-group of Slytherins that had previously been without cohesion and would possibly become the best material in the fight against Voldemort.
Bellatrix's objection to this seemed a little weak, even if it was true that the children would probably never have revolted without Percy's intervention. It also didn't escape him that she compared the battered children to an animal, which she herself used in frightening quantities as a target for dark curses. Like many Slytherins, she felt no visible pity for them. Only contempt for their vulnerability.
Bellatrix continued in her now rather hissed tirade, "They have proven they are worth nothing. Compliant and pathetic. I don't see why they shouldn't be made to realise that this is their true form. Rinsed clean of all the overblown ideas the Muggle world has put into their heads. Those who are so easily subjugated do not deserve to be respected at all."
"You misunderstand my position as a generalisation," Percy retorted, unable to help but eye Bellatrix vaguely contemptuously. "Anyone can be broken. You, me, Dumbledore, it doesn't matter. The children were in the worst possible starting position. Lack of information about the new world they were thrust into, extremely hostile treatment towards them and no real place of retreat.
But it only takes one of many not to break. That person, filled with justifiable hatred for his tormentors, will possibly move heaven and earth to ruin their lives. And this danger will never go away.
Even if you insist on your nonsensical dislike, you should recognise that you might not have done better in the same situation. I do not know, of course, what Rabastan did to make them compliant. But I suspect he may have offered them his protection in return for serving his desires. They naively underestimated that and then they were trapped."
"They could have fought!" exclaimed Bellatrix, eyes flashing. "Find an opportunity to hurt him as much as he did them. I would never willingly submit to anyone!"
This statement was not without a certain unintentional humour. But unfortunately, it only revealed itself to Percy, because he was the only one who still knew that she had very much become a willing, submissive servant to her master. He wondered when this image of strength to which she undoubtedly adhered had become so warped that it had become fine for her to acknowledge a hierarchically superior master.
In a calm voice he replied, "I wouldn't be so sure. It doesn't seem absurd to assume that the children firmly believed they were really protected from other attacks by this diabolical pact. And who knows, maybe Lestrange actually kept his part of this hypothetical bargain and chased other predators away from his prey."
This conjecture was, of course, far from certain. For all Percy knew, he could have simply threatened them with even worse violence if they didn't toe the line. But that wouldn't reflect very favourably on them in Slytherin, or on Lestrange's other victims, unknown to Percy. And when he spoke about such things in public, he would try to verbally paint as flattering a picture of them as possible for his fellow students.
For, as was so often the case, many older and younger students listened to what he had to say. It was annoying, to say the least, how much he was listened to. And he didn't actually talk very much at all. But in Slytherin, status was everything and as someone from the highest circles, it was of course important to at least know his opinion.
In an appreciative tone, Percy continued: "Seen in this way, they would have made the best of their situation. But life is not always fair. They made a mistake and misjudged their patron. That can happen all too easily even to a Pureblood.
Think of the poor souls who pledged themselves to the dark Lord Hereward in the hope of great gains. In the end, they were so hated by everyone else that they had no choice but to continue serving their master, no matter how badly he treated them. And when Hereward had almost lost, he sacrificed them all in a last stand to save his own life. They died and he lived for a few more days.
What I am saying is that most are willing to give up their freedom or part of it for a price. For some it is security, for others money and for still others fame. And sometimes once you walk that path, you can't turn back."
Bellatrix said snootily: "That doesn't say anything about whether some people - and by that I mean Mudbloods - aren't more easily led astray. Or show weakness more easily that can be exploited. Or is altogether more submissive. And that's what Rabastan's little slaves show."
"I might take this more seriously if quite a few of our Pureblood fellows didn't regularly complain that Muggle-borns just don't behave with proper deference. So what is it to be? Are they now inherently submissive servants or rebellious fiends? If you ask me, it all depends on one thing: personality. This is true regardless of blood status and depends on upbringing.
I even believe that many Purebloods nowadays have been brought up very servile. As soon as the next dark lord appears, they will probably chum up to him in the most disgusting way and thus betray everything great about themselves. Wasn't Bulstrode wondering aloud only yesterday when a strong man would finally take the lead in the Ministry to combat all the negative Mudblood influence? I'm sure he and many others would be only too happy to defer to one. So where is the difference?"
"You are obsessed with seeing this Mudblood scum in the best light!" accused Bellatrix. "I don't see how you can't see their obvious inferiority."
"All I see are blank sheets of parchment that can become anything the scribe wants. If I have a choice to develop them into something truly useful, or let them decay under ridicule, then I know what my choice is."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes at this and fell silent. She certainly had rebuttals on the tip of her tongue which strongly challenged his assertion. Percy wasn't sure if his words stirred anything in the young woman, or if she was already doomed to obstinacy even at this time. Regrettably, their disagreement did not seem to dissuade her from continuing to foolishly regard him as her best friend.
This was also evident in the fact that when they both went to the morning Charms lesson, she asked, "This dark Lord Hereward, can you tell me more about him? I have heard very little about him. You seem to have studied him more closely."
So he told her of this dreadful man and she listened with the morbid fascination characteristic of her. Percy was not surprised that she hardly knew the dark wizard. He hadn't considered, when he mentioned him, that his machinations were not really part of the wider historical knowledge of the masses. Bellatrix was an enthusiast for all things dark magic, so she had probably read about it in one of the many stories about dark mages.
Percy himself had only looked into it more closely because one of the books Voldemort had had removed from the archives had dealt with Hereward and his father. Why had not really been clear to Percy. Many books and essays on older dark wizards had been removed and beyond that Voldemort didn't seem to follow a thread.
But Percy had wanted to find one and so had looked in the removed exemplars of his own copied library. He had found nothing, except a somewhat broader knowledge of history. Hereward was the son of the author of Magick Moste Evile, who in turn had already made a name for himself as a dark lord. Hereward killed him and thereafter magniloquently set out to make himself tyrant over the magical population of Britain.
In many ways his behaviour compared well with Voldemort's. Arrogant, egocentric and able to trick others into his own camp. Unlike Voldemort, however, he had no overriding ideology, such as blood purity. Hereward was more honest in believing the world needed him to rule. He did not pretend, as Voldemort did, that this was not his main goal. Those who followed him simply wanted a piece of that pie.
After telling Bellatrix a few anecdotes about Hereward on the way to class, he then endured the yawningly boring lessons with young Flitwick. If he hadn't already known all this, it might have been vaguely interesting, but the last few days had proved to him that now all school subjects were separated by little from the soporific qualities of Professor Binns' teaching.
Lunch was followed by the second defence lesson of this first week at school and it was, regrettably, as useless to Percy as he was now used to. Professor Burke was a not-so-young, gruff woman who certainly had good theoretical knowledge. But her ability to convey it left a lot to be desired.
She deliberately rushed through the subject matter with two spells each, which had to be learnt within each lesson, and did not give the students the time to learn them properly. In the end, probably only a fraction of her NEWT students would be able to retain them. There was no deepening or consolidation of skills. Now it was only the second lesson, but after her announcements she didn't believe in carrying stumbling students along. Typical Slytherin thinking.
Anyway, he was glad to leave the lesson behind. He had also been able to shake off Bellatrix and his other classmates. With some anticipation, he now moved towards the third floor. He was already thinking about the problems waiting for him there.
But then an unfamiliar female voice sounded behind him, asking, "It was you, wasn't it?"
Percy turned around and faced the tortured girl. Suppressing his own discomfort, he replied, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Subconsciously I was aware that something was strange that day," she said as if she hadn't heard him. "An watchful presence. A bit like a guardian angel."
The girl looked immensely exhausted. Her reddish-brown hair looked unkempt and she showed dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes themselves did not focus him properly. In a strained, patient voice, Percy explained, "I sympathise with your situation, but because of that you shouldn't project your wishful thinking onto the next best person who isn't obviously hostile. That might backfire on you."
"But you're not the next best person!" the girl asserted. "Charles told me that. He's Muggle-born, like me, but in the seventh year. Never has a distinguished member of Slytherin house sided with us so openly and naturally. And we were only freed from Lestrange's tyranny when you showed up. Who else but you could possibly come into consideration?
But that is not all. I feel you were there. It's like an echo, but in all my senses. Someone else was there and I am more and more sure that it was you. But why don't you admit it?"
It was not unusual for attention redirection spells to leave a certain sensation in the human mind. It was comparable to blind spots that one suddenly became aware of. So it was noticeable what was not there and not what was actually remembered. It showed that his execution of the spell was not ideal yet.
Also not uncommon was the attempt to fill this gap. Therefore, Percy knew that he could only dissuade her from the idea if he offered a more plausible one. Unfortunately, he could not think of one. So he decided to take advantage of this strange aura that already seemed to surround him as an advocate for her group of people. After all, there was no harm in cultivating it at this stage.
"Think girl. If the situation is as you describe and a certain ideological monoculture prevails in Slytherin, then the person responsible for saving you, whoever that may be, would be revealing themselves too much. For animosity towards the advocates of the Muggle-born could quickly become dangerous for them.
If I were that someone, I certainly wouldn't want it to be known. So it is in your interest not to portray him as a shining Paragon. If you want to make a difference in Slytherin, you have to be more sneaky about it. Change towards more acceptance has to be gradual, and for that, a lone admonisher is more useful than an violent activist at the beginning."
"Okay," she agreed, a hint of mischievousness creeping onto the gaunt and dejected features of her face. "But if you were that person, I would thank you. With all my heart. On Jacob's behalf, too."
"I'm sure your saviour would appreciate your gratitude. What's your name, girl? There may come a time when it would be useful for me to know it."
"Why do you call me girl like that?" she asked mildly upset. "I'm fifteen. You're only a year older than me as far as I know. It's the height, isn't it?"
He had to look again more closely at that statement. If she spoke the truth, she was truly very small for her age and not very well developed. Here he began to wonder how long she had been in Lestrange's clutches. Perhaps he had done more damage than just a few periodic cuts to her skin. Probably annoyed with herself, she shook her head and answered him: "I am Emilia Brodrick. And the second year student our mysterious helper freed with me is called Jacob Hurst. If you find out that our helper ever needs anything that we can help with, let us know. What that one has done cannot be repaid by anything, but we would like to try."
"Regardless of what someone else might use you for, there is only one thing that matters," Percy began, somewhat touched against his will by the sincere but misplaced willingness to assist him. "You must stick together as Muggle-borns, work together. There must be no repeat of what happened with Lestrange. As a group you can make up for the deficits you face in our society.
Reach out to the Muggle-born first years and integrate them into this group with each passing year. There will eventually be conflict with the Pureblood fanatics. But if you speak with one voice and fight back as one fist, you should be able to weather these coming storms. Slughorn has spearheaded something great here and you should continue it as best you can. But now go. Help your fellow survivors understand how important your cohesion is."
The girl smiled much more openly now and replied gently but firmly, "We will stand firm. I will do all I can."
Fortunately, she marched off in good spirits. These people could yet become valuable to him. As little as he had planned for this situation, he was delighted with the possibilities they presented. They were ears and eyes whose presence was not heeded. And should he have positioned himself too far beyond consensus by criticising the Pureblood fanatics, he still had a group of people leaning on him.
He still wasn't sure how likely such a schism was in Slytherin. But to really separate the moderate and traditional Purebloods from the supremacists through his pacting and manoeuvring would be difficult. He needed a carrot to hold in front of the donkeys. Something that appealed to their sense of self.
Decent behaviour contrasted with reprehensible debauchery was one way. Lestrange's actions offered a good target for this. At the same time, however, it would be easy for his enemies to portray him as a lone perpetrator who was by no means a symptom of an overarching problem.
Percy shook his head as if to dismiss these thoughts. With a firm step, he made his way to his small retreat. The Muggle-borns could wait. His priority was clearly Voldemort, his Horcruxes and the complications that came with them. If he sparked a few other positive developments along the way, that was fine with him.