AN: THANK YOU! 100+ favs and 200+ follows for a completely unknown fanfic author! I know that is not much for the established guys, but I am happy and thankful!
PS, a special thanks to Riana Miako who double dinged, giving me the 100th fav and 200th follow. Thanks Riana!

AN: I am going to try a different technique for this chapter. Be sure to review and tell me if you like it or not. If you hate it, I won't do it again. Help me learn to be a better author! :D
AN: This is also my longest chapter to date, as the technique (reverse chronology) required I complete the chapter before posting it. I had hoped to post sooner than this.
I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Chapter 11

Laying Foundations

The Great Hall was almost deafening as the drone of hundreds of low conversations joined to create an incomprehensible din. Rumors about the troll were running rampant. Everyone knew 'something' happened last night, but very few knew what. Even fewer knew the consequences of that evening.

Harry took a deep breath as one of those consequences entered the Hall, standing still, quickly scanning the Hall before locking her gaze on Harry. Hermione inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment before slowly exhaling. Her face became resolute as she took her first stride toward Harry, each subsequent step seemed to become easier for her, until she was coming toward the Hufflepuff table in a slow, almost ceremonial march.

The noise level died as more people became aware of Hermione's behavior. Her gait might have drawn a bit of attention, but it was her attire which stopped conversations. A pure white linen gown with loose sleeves moved gracefully with her every step. Each step also confirmed, to those close enough to see, Hermione was barefoot; her bare toes extending from beneath the hem with each step, only to be quickly hidden once more. Her hair, normally a bushy halo, was tamed by small, long braids which crisscrossed her hair. Small white and crystal beads were woven into the braids, sparkling in the light of the Great Hall. Each curve of braid possessed a sheen, hinting to the females of Hogwarts how she had tamed her normally unruly hair. (The males remained clueless, with few exceptions.)

Silence reigned as she walked to Harry; a silence so profound the wings of a snitch would have been clearly heard by all.

Harry watched her come to him. He knew what was about to happen, yet his calm face was a lie. Butterflies the size of Dudley's cast offs were threatening to expel his light breakfast. Forcing himself to exhibit a calm he did not feel, he rose and met her in the center of the Hall.

Hermione had stopped in the center of the Hall, waiting for Harry to approach. When he was within arm's reach, she knelt gracefully.

Harry took one last step, standing directly in front of her before leaning down to whisper a question only she could hear, "Are you sure?"

Hermione's answer was so soft, only the utter stillness of the Great Hall allowed even Harry to hear it, "Yes".

Harry rose to stand before Hermione as she bowed her head, crossing her wrists and extending her arms up toward Harry.

The silence at last broken as every pureblood inhaled sharply, certain what was happening would change everything.

The Headmaster shook his head in annoyance. There was nothing he could do to stop this. THIS was just a formality. The damage was done the night previous, in a bathroom of all places.

Harry took Hermione's wrists in his left hand.

"Do you wish to be mine in all things?" Harry queried, starting the ritual.

An electric tension filled the Hall, raising hairs along the observer's arms.

Hermione's voice answered clearly, "Yes".

Harry nodded "I find you acceptable to be a vassal of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Are you prepared to swear fealty?"

"Yes".

The magic seemed to vibrate in anticipation.

"Proceed".

Hermione took a deep breath and spoke the words which would changer her life forever.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, do hereby swear;
Fealty and service unto the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Lord Harry James Potter.
To speak and to be silent, to do and to let be,
To come and to go, in need and in plenty,
In peace and in war, in living and in dying,
From this hour henceforth, until my Lord release me,
Death take me, or the world end."

With each line, the electric feel of the Hall intensified, but no one noticed. Everyone's eyes were glued to Harry and Hermione and the yellow glow growing around their combined hands.

With his free hand, Harry lifts Hermione's chin until she is looking in his eyes.

"I, Lord Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter,
Hear and shall not forget,
Nor fail to reward that which is freely given:
Fealty with Love,
Valor with Honor,
and Oathbreaking with Vengeance.
Rise now and go in peace and with my protection."

As Harry spoke, the glow grew brighter and larger, eventually covering them both completely.

As Harry spoke the last line, completing the ritual, the glow seeped into their bodies as a loud POP was heard.

Helping Hermione to her feet, Harry's left hand felt strange. Looking at it, he saw what had not been there before the ritual, a large ring with the Potter coat of arms.

Draco had watched the entire scene from the Slytherin tables. Everything had gone exactly as he had planned, even the ring's appearance on Harry's hand, confirming Harry's status as Head of House. Draco was ecstatic, although he hid it behind his emotionless public mask. No one knew, not even Harry, that Draco had made his first major move on the political stage.

The Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter would continue to grow in numbers and strength.

Draco would accept nothing less.

Halloween

Harry was spending too much time with Merlin. He was well aware of this. In fact, he was starting to see the portrait as a person instead of a portrait. It was hard not to. Merlin spoke to him like he was another juggler. Harry's summers in the park, talking trade with the other jugglers, was the closest to real human contact he had before coming to Hogwarts. Speaking of, what the hell? Who would name a school anything 'hog' or 'wart' related? Back to the point, Harry was spending too much time with Merlin.

Professor Sprout had reminded Harry attending the Halloween feast was a non-optional social obligation. Well, she did not use those exact words, but that was the meaning. So, when Harry found himself in front of Merlin, practicing a new catch/pass/throw, he was not surprised when one of the other portraits entered Merlin's frame to chastise him for being late to the feast. Merlin did something strange with the balls he was tossing currently and the other portrait seemed annoyed and left. Harry thought he would be able to skip the feast and stay with Merlin for the evening. Halloween did not seem as much fun, after he found out why the wizarding world celebrated.

"Harry," Merlin interrupted his thoughts, "You need to go to the feast. No need to annoy the bearded one. At least, not yet…" Merlin grinned mischievously and waggled his eyebrows. "Cheerio, pip-pip and all that rot. I will see you tomorrow I am certain, young Lord. In the meantime, hurry to the feast and be sure to practice that catch/toss/pass before I see you again." With that Merlin started whistling as he wandered into the background of his frame.

"Well, might as well get it over with. If nothing else, there will be plenty of treacle tarts." Harry smiled. Of all the desserts he had discovered at Hogwarts, treacle tarts were easily his favorite.

Hurrying from Harry's corridor, as he had come to think of it, he was completely intending to go to straight to the Great Hall. It was not his fault a scream interrupted his diligent attempt to attend the feast. He would be able to swear that quite truthfully. The opportunity … er… obligation to render assistance to a fellow human being just happened to take precedence! Harry smiled as he raced toward the intermittent screaming. With luck, this would delay him enough to miss the feast entirely! He might even sneak in some more time with Merlin.

Running along the corridor, the screams were joined by a bestial grunt, then a great clatter, as if someone threw all the stoneware in the kitchen against the wall (and also ground the pieces against each other for good measure).

As Harry skidded to a halt, he realized he was in the loo and not the one he was supposed to use either! The screaming was nearly constant now and emanated from the bushy haired Ravenclaw he had met on the train, Hermione.

The reason for her screams became abundantly clear as a giant lump of a man(?) shuffled forward before swinging his club at the screaming. Had the girl not ducked at the last moment, her formidable brains would have presented a challenge to Filch's cleaning fluids and mops. Harry could not really blame the guy. He had only just gotten there and the screaming was really getting on his nerves. He could only imagine if the big guy had to listen to it the whole time!

Watching the big guy, Harry decided he was a lot like Dudley, a bit thick and prone to attempt to solve problems with violence. And when you are as big as Dudley, many problems can be solved quickly with an appropriate level of violence enthusiastically applied.

Harry smiled, remembering Dudley could be distracted by pretty things. That of course was the entire reason Harry was forced to learn to juggle. Well, if it would work with one lumbering oaf, perhaps it would work with another?

Harry took out three balls and began a simple pattern before attempting to garner the big guy's attention.

"HEY! BIG GUY! LOOK AT THIS!" Harry shouted as loudly as he could, trying to drown out Hermione's high pitched screams.

Harry fed more balls into the pattern. He had taken to carrying twelve these days, since Merlin began teaching him. Twelve was still beyond him, except for the simplest patterns. But at the moment he was grateful for the extra ammunition, for that was how he was about to use at least one. A quick grab, underhanded power throw, and Hermione caught the ball in her belly button. Well, 'caught' is a bit of a euphemistic description of what Hermione did. Basically the ball hit her in the gut with the power of a good punch, knocking the wind out of her and more importantly… stopping her screaming.

"Stay down! Get out of sight. And for the sake of all you hold precious, QUIT SCREAMING!"

Harry screaming at Hermione to stop screaming would have been an amusing bit of irony, had not the big guy decided to see who was making noise now.

Raising his club above his head as he turned to face Harry, the troll froze before cocking his head to the side. Harry was tossing eight balls through a simple pattern. A simple pattern to Harry, that is… the troll found it most perplexing. Reaching out, the troll attempted to pluck one ball from the pattern, but they were moving too quickly. Deciding to play to his wheelhouse, the troll swung his club through the air above Harry's head in an attempt to disrupt the pattern.

Harry could have performed this simple pattern in his sleep. (That is literal, as Neville had to wake him from sleep walking a few times!) So, he had plenty of attention to give the big guy swinging the tree trunk. When the club began moving toward his juggling balls, he varied several tosses to avoid them meeting the club. Still, he had never practiced with a giant trying to use his balls as batting practice. The club managed to knock one ball into the far wall, the seams bursting with the impact before it slid down the wall to lie quietly on the flooded floor.

Harry was very annoyed. Even Dudley did not damage his juggling balls. Still, since the big guy was twice his height and probably eight times his mass, he was prepared to forgive the one ball's destruction as a misunderstanding among new acquaintances. (That and he was pretty sure the big guy could rip his head off without an effort! Self-preservation is a strong instinct, even in the very young!)

Harry managed to prevent the club from hitting any more of his balls, but the big guy became rapidly bored with each new pattern, forcing Harry to move into more complex patterns to maintain his attention. Soon Harry was using techniques Merlin had taught him. The troll quickly became bored with even those.

Harry decided to try some combinations of techniques Merlin had taught him. (He had been thinking about how easy it would be to combine certain techniques, so easy in fact Harry would later decide Merlin was teaching him pieces of a more complex pattern.)

Harry pocketed all but six balls, immediately moving into the first technique before the big guy got bored again. He then moved into the second technique. Again, Big and Stinky was rapidly bored. Harry combined the first and second technique and nearly dropped everything. Only his endless hours of practice prevented disaster as Harry was greeted with something completely unexpected, the balls began to glow. Wondering how long before Stinky got bored with this combined technique, Harry was amazed to see the troll sit in front of him, dropping his club as he began to clap his hands in pleasure and laughing. At least Harry hoped it was laughter. That did look like a smile, but the sound could best be approximated by head-sized granite pieces half filling an industrial drum which was then rolled down a very steep hill.

This pattern did not get boring for his big friend. The longer Harry maintained it, the brighter the balls glowed, until they were leaving streaking after-images. Harry altered the strength and angle of his catches, creating geometric patterns of loops, curves, and lines in the air.

Harry did not know how long his command performance for his audience of one (or so he thought) had continued before he heard light applause behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder showed all the senior staff watching him entertain the troll. Hagrid loomed over the other teachers with a smile that bore more than a passing similarity to the troll's.

Looking back at the troll, Harry spoke quietly, "If someone knows how to handle the big guy here, so he doesn't start swinging that tree around again, I would appreciate it. Hagrid, you are about his size. Think you could help him move somewhere less dangerous to the student body?"

Hagrid's voice rumbled with humor, "Absolutely Harry. Could you keep doing that for a bit? I just need to step through next to him and…"

Whatever Hagrid was going to say was lost as a bright beam of red light flashed past Harry, hitting the troll in his open mouth as he continued to laugh like an amused toddler.

After the troll fell over backward, no longer moving, Harry caught all his balls as he whipped around to see who had fired.

"You didn't have to kill him!" Harry fumed at the professors. All now had their wands out, so he could not tell who cast the spell.

"Arrogant whelp! Who are you to question how we protect this school?" Snape scowled.

"Well a damn fine job you did of it, isn't it? If I had not come along, Hermione would be dead. Not to mention I had to deliberately attract the attention of a smelly mountain of bad temper and muscle in order to save her, thus placing another student's life in danger, mine!"

"It's true. Harry saved me. I wasn't able to do anything but scream. I was too scared. If Harry had not come along and distracted him, the troll would have killed me. He told me to hide while he dealt with it." Hermione said as she slowly exited the last stall of the girls' loo.

The air filled with the sound of wind chimes as a golden glow surrounded Hermione before streaking to Harry.

Harry did not feel an impact, only a sense of warmth as the light seemed to soak into him.

"Okay… that was… different" Harry finally said.

Professor Snape rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Just like his father" before he turned on his heel and limped away.

Dumbledore just shook his head, thinking 'Yet another kink in what should have been a simple plan.'

"So, would someone like to explain why you killed my new friend?"

"Lord Potter, Professor Snape used a stunner to incapacitate the troll. Since their hide is extremely resistant to magic, he aimed the stunner at the inside of the troll's mouth. The troll is not permanently harmed and will wake with little more than some sore muscles and a large headache." Professor Flitwick explained.

"Hagrid, could you have safely escorted the big guy from the school?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Well, er" Hagrid looked at Dumbledore for guidance in his answer, but the Headmaster was busy watching Hermione.

"Er… Yes. He was in a playful mood. Your doing, that. I could have led him from the castle easily, especially if you had come with me. I think he likes you." Hagrid chuckled as he said that last part.

"So, violence is an option. Good to know." Harry snarked. "I am going to take Miss Granger to the infirmary. With your permission, of course." The last was directed to Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick, as they are the head of house for the two students involved.

"Harry, why weren't you at the feast" Dumbledore queried with some annoyance. Harry could tell the Headmaster was annoyed, but could not see why that question would be considered relevant, given the events of the last hour or so.

"Sir, I was on my way to the feast when I heard Miss Granger scream. Is my absence from the feast really important at this point in time? Or may I escort Hermione to the infirmary now?"

The Headmaster waved him on, so Lord Potter gave his arm to Miss Granger and after she took his elbow, they left the girls' bathroom for the infirmary.

After they left, Minerva turned to Albus, "You know what happened. Not telling him will not prevent the consequences. Miss Granger owes Lord Potter a Life Debt. While they did not use the accepted formula for acknowledging the debt, Magic obviously agreed the debt exists and the bond was formed. You saw it."

Dumbledore shook his head and left as Filius and Pomona started putting the bathroom back together.

Minerva, Filius, and Pomona all looked at each other as Hagrid pulled the troll over his shoulder and walked away.

***On the way to the Infirmary***

Harry wondered how to start this conversation, then decided to just 'jump in'.

"Hermione, why were you in that bathroom? Even if you needed to go to the restroom, you should have used one much closer to the Great Hall."

Hermione hung her head in embarrassment, "I was hiding from … "

"Ron?"

"Not this time, but some of his friends."

"They abused you?"

"No! They just call me names and …"

"So, they are bullying you."

Hermione admitted, "Yes, I guess. It's nothing more than what happened before I came to Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head violently, "That doesn't make it right. In fact, as they are older than the children who used to bully you, it is worse. They should know better by now."

Hermione could not argue with that, so she remained silent and hung her head.,,

"Hermione," Harry began tentatively, "I have a solution for you. It is pretty radical, but it would prevent much of the bullying you are experiencing."

Hermione picked up her head with excitement and something she had not experienced before, hope; hope the bullying might eventually end.

"How?"

*** Assistant Headmistress' Office, Three Nights Prior ***

Filius was at a loss. In all his years teaching, nothing like this had happened before, which is why he found himself with Pomona and Minerva discussing it over a therapeutic dose of Ogden's Finest.

"Honestly" Filius began "I don't know what to do. Students will always make some excuse or other to excuse their late papers, but the number of students doing it this year seems far beyond normal."

Pomona nodded as she voiced her thoughts, "And they all seem to say the same thing, 'I can't find it' or 'I lost it', but they all claim to have done the work and when quizzed, they know the material. This is something beyond a few students trying to avoid homework."

Minerva took a sip of her 'medicine' before throwing in her thoughts "Have you noticed who is using these excuses to not turn in their work?"

Although Minerva had meant it as a rhetorical question, Filius immediately responded, "Among the first years: Roper, Perks, Cornfoot, Turpin, McDougal, Entwhistle, Finch-Fletchley, and Granger. Among the second years: "

McGonagall held up her hand to interrupt the rest of the list, "That is sufficient. Do you see a pattern?"

Professor Sprout's eyes popped wide as she squeaked, "Muggleborn. They are all muggleborn…"

Minerva nodded, "And the same pattern is present in the other classes. Persecution of the muggleborn has reached an unprecedented level this year. If we asked Poppy, she would tell us there is an unusual level of bumps and bruises caused by 'walking into doors', 'not watching where I was going', and 'I fell'. Bad dreams are also at unprecedented levels, according to Poppy."

Filius did not look happy and when he wasn't happy, his goblin side swam all too close to the surface.

Before he could say anything someone might have to give testimony on, Pomona interrupted, "What can we do? How can we help these children?"

Minerva sighed, "Until we catch someone in the act, we will have to keep our eyes open. After we catch someone…"

Minerva's evil smile made Filius much more comfortable. There was more than a little goblin in that woman. He was certain of it. He also added her to the list of people he would never willingly cross.

*** An Unused Classroom, Sometime the Prior Week ***

Marcus Flint dropped a book flat on the desk, the boom echoing in the long disused classroom.

"The premier meeting of the etiquette club is hereby called to order."

Professor Snape looked around the room. 'Only purebloods, as it should be', he thought vindictively. This was the first chance Dumbledore had given him since removing him as Head of House for Slytherin. "Baby steps" Dumbledore had said. "Show me you have changed" he said. What Snape would really like to show him was a bowel cleansing potion he had been working on, which would completely evacuate a patient's bowels in less than an hour. Of course, there were some side effects: nausea, cramping, heart palpitations, oh and pain… lots of pain. Snape smiled to himself as he imagined the Headmaster enduring the bowel prep, for his own good of course.

"Professor Snape has graciously agreed to provide our required staff sponsor. A polite round of applause, please."

Quiet clapping filled the room momentarily as Snape rose and nodded to his club, before sitting again.

"Right, so why are we here?"

Ernest MacMillian stood and clearly stated, "We represent the pureblood families of Wizarding Britain. We are here to study and revive the traditions which non-purebloods discount as unimportant and to make contacts within the pureblood community of Hogwarts which we will use to our benefit after graduation."

Slow applause from Flint, "Nicely put and a very Slytherin attitude, if I might add. Did the hat perhaps offer you Slytherin?"

Many students were giggling. Many, but none of them were Slytherin. They were now re-evaluating Mr. Macmillan given this new information.

"Anyone else have an idea of why we are here?" Flint asked with a smirk.

Ronald Weasley spoke to break the increasingly uncomfortable silence, "We are here to make connections and observe other pureblood within our age range. This will prove of strategic value in determining marriage contracts in the future."

Flint raised an eyebrow, "Another Slytherin hiding in another house, perhaps? Well said Mr. Weasley. And since you have yet to enter puberty," Marcus threw up his hands to indicate no offense was intended, "your brain still works objectively when considering the fairer sex. Well done."

"Anyone else?"

"To learn effective, yet legal" legal was clearly and strongly emphasized "methods of maintaining the supremacy of purebloods within society" Padma Patil said politely, as she straightened her robe.

"Definitely not a Slytherin in hiding. Too much emphasis on 'legal' instead of using perhaps a word more in line with our goals. I might have chosen the phrase 'unlikely to be successfully prosecuted'. Ah well, not everyone can be cunning." Flint's genuine smile detracted from the sting of his words, but it was clear Padma had lost credibility in his eyes.

"Yes. We are here to learn how to set ourselves apart from the mudbloods and those who mingle too closely with them. We are here to form connections which will last our lifetimes and longer. Connections of finances and family; including, as Mr. Weasley most appropriately mentioned, marriage."

Flint nodded to Professor Snape, who with a wave of wand and muttered phrase created a 16 place table complete with extensive place settings.

"Who wishes to be our first test subjects? The three who spoke up obviously."

Ron hung his head slightly before mustering his courage and standing up. He could do this. His mother was a Prewitt and this was drilled into him from the time he could walk. He approached the table with the others Flint had selected, all first years except for Mr. Flint.

"Unh, unh, unh," Flint smiled at the chosen students. "First things first. Knowing the right fork to use is important. But at this point, what is even more important? Ms. Greengrass?"

In a bored voice Daphne Greengrass replied, "Knowing when to sit… and where."

Flint smiled broadly, "Exactly right, Ms. Greengrass!"

"Ten points to Slytherin" Snape murmured from the corner where he watched "for Miss Greengrass' most Slytherin response to an obvious question".

"We will assume the call to table has been issued, so when to sit is marginally unimportant at the moment. But where is vitally important. Sit in the wrong place, perhaps you will offend someone with sufficient rank to call you to duel. Perhaps you will damage a treaty ancient before your grandfathers were born. Perhaps you will be treated politely, as one would a child, as your potential as a husband or wife is downgraded in the eyes of those who matter."

Flint walked to the head of the table.

"Ms. Brown, could you remind us how seating is determined?"

Lavender Brown nodded before speaking an obviously often repeated lesson, "The hostess sets the seating arrangement according to their desire. Although a seemingly straightforward task, the seating must take into consideration the precedence of each guest. Many hostesses will begin with the males by order of precedence, those with the highest ranks or awards sitting closest to the host at the head of table. Space is provided for the guests 'plus one'. If a guest does not bring a companion for the evening, some hostesses will go as far as to provide one of adequate poise and breeding. When this is not possible, if a woman is a guest and without a gentleman for the evening, she is often paired with the gentleman who did not bring a companion. In lesser households, the woman's rank or awards may move her higher up the table. In addition there are conventions regarding the attire of the guests, which rarely supersede the order of precedence but some will use as 'tie-breakers'. Then there are the seasonal variations which…"

Flint laughed as he interrupted her, "Yes. Thank you Ms. Brown. That was most informative. As you can guess, there are entire books written on the 'simple' art of seating people appropriately."

"Mr. Longbottom, what is the most common method of determining where one should sit?"

Neville had remained silent throughout, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the apparent purpose of the group. Asked a direct question, he had to answer.

"The hostess will usually indicate where you should sit, sometimes going so far as to include a place card or note."

"The subtleties in indicating the seating are numerous and some are quite insulting. These can be used when one wishes to insult someone beneath them, in such a manner the more refined guests are politely made aware of the insulted party's deficiencies" Draco smiled, remembering one such evening.

"Just so" Flint nodded. "Well said."

"Ten points to Slytherin" mumbled Severus, "for Draco's valuable insight into polite social infighting."

After seating the first group, Marcus asked, "Now for the most important part of the evening. We assume everyone knows which utensil to use and how to eat a given item properly. Now we begin the most profitable portion of the evening, the conversation. Perhaps I am having problems with mudbloods receiving too much attention in our school. Perhaps they are making me look bad in class. I could just come out and say that. But I won't. Mr. Zabini, why won't I start a conversation in such a manner?"

Blaise sat a bit straighter and squared his shoulders as he responded, "It would be rude, but more importantly, it would be ineffective."

"Really? Please explain." Marcus asked with a grin.

"Anyone who would listen to such a poorly worded request is unlikely to be capable of helping you. If they interpreted your request correctly, they are likely to get caught in the process of helping you. Those capable of aiding you without drawing attention would not do so because they would find you unworthy of their help due to your lack of subtlety in your method of requesting action" Mr. Zabini explained in a condescending tone.

Flint chuckled as he responded, "Just so. Can anyone give me an example of a more appropriate way to start the conversation I wanted to start? Miss Parvati Patil, please."

Parvati looking across at Lavender, "My mother will be most disappointed when she hears I am not the top of our year in charms."

Flint nodded, "Still a bit obvious to those who know the direction the conversation is supposed to be guided, but without that… Well done, Miss Patil."

Looking around the table, Flint asked, "Anyone else?"

Ron removed the automatic sneer that graced his face as he looked at Draco, replacing it with a pleasant smile, "Mr. Malfoy, your father's charitable contributions are well known." Ron paused as Draco nodded, wondering where this would go. Ron continued, "If he is looking for additional areas where his charity could reap large dividends, I would like to suggest Hogwarts. I am particularly concerned for the first generation witches and wizards; muggleborns. They are brought into our world knowing almost nothing. Perhaps you could ask your father if he would fund a wizarding culture elective, to teach these poor unfortunate students how to properly assimilate into our society."

Flint started laughing! Nodding toward Professor Snape, before turning to Draco and asking, "Mr. Malfoy, please evaluate Mr. Weasley's introductory comment."

Draco looked at Ron, cocking his head to the side. He had seriously underestimated Ron Weasley. Draco nodded respectfully to Ron before beginning, "As you said previously, knowing where the conversation is supposed to end gives a significant advantage in evaluating it. Mr. Weasley's introductory comment was suitably subtle. It complimented my family, my father specifically, before indicating a method by which my family's known behavior could be used to deal with a current issue. More to the point, the idea is well considered and likely to succeed in allowing purebloods to improve their standing in their classes, as the 'first generation witches and wizards' would have more classes and homework, diverting some of their efforts in classes shared with purebloods."

Ron Weasley smirked, then nodded his head to Draco in acknowledgment of the compliment.

Snape was amazed. Ron Weasley was a devious bastard indeed. The more he thought of it, the more Severus was annoyed. 'How did Weasley not get sorted into Slytherin?' "Five points to Gryffindor for Weasley managing to breath with his mouth closed" Severus muttered. Snape just couldn't bring himself to award points to a Gryffindor without adding an insult.

"Now", Flint interrupted, "Are all halfbloods and mudbloods created equal? Miss Parkinson. Would you marry a mudblood? Under any circumstances?"

Pansy blushed bright red, "No".

"Under no circumstances? Miss Greengrass. Would you marry a mudblood?" Flint continued.

Daphne considered, "I have a sister who could continue my family line. I would lose respect and social standing in the eyes of my peers. Therefore, I would marry a mudblood" gasps were heard around the table "if what I gained from the union exceeded the value of what I had lost."

Lavender looked horrified, "What could you possibly gain that would be worth marrying a mudblood?"

Daphne laughed at her, "Mudblood? I would marry a muggle, if the gains exceeded the losses. As to what I could gain to equal the loss of prestige among my peers; assuming the muggle I wed were Prince Charles, I would be next in line to be Queen of England. Appropriate paperwork would be 'found' to verify my qualifications to do so. Likewise his son, Prince William will be King, and thus I Queen, after his father passes. In becoming Queen of the United Kingdom and Head of the Commonwealth, I gain far more than I lose. Prince Charles is 43. Prince William is 9. Either are adequate age for a contract. As Queen, or even Princess, I would influence muggle government and society to the benefit of my House. Am I likely to marry a muggle? Hardly. But are there circumstances where it is possible? Absolutely!"

Everyone sat in silence before Flint broke it with a laugh and enthusiastic clapping.

"Miss Greengrass, that is the most Slytherin comment made all evening!" Flint cheered.

"Fifteen points to Slytherin for Miss Greengrass' detailed response." Snape murmured.

Marcus continued, "This shows the point I wanted to make quite clear. We want power. Power to affect our way of life. Power to squash those things which threaten us. Power to acquire those things which we desire. Much of the power today rests in the hands of purebloods. We designed the system to keep it that way, from hereditary seats in the Wizengamot to glass ceilings in the Ministry to keep the less desirable in their place. Power is the point."

"Miss Parkinson is offended at the idea of marrying outside the pureblood community. It limits her options. Miss Lavender, would you marry Harry Potter? Some call him a half-blood: although that is not accurate, is it? His mother was a witch, mudblood but still a witch. His father's blood is as pure as anyone's. So, should you marry Harry, your children would be considered pureblood by most. So, Miss Lavender, would you marry Harry Potter?" Flint stared unblinkingly at the witch in question.

Straightening her shoulders and looking Marcus Flint squarely in the eye, Lavender replied, "Yes".

Flint smiled, "As you should. The benefits are significant and the negatives are few. The Potters hold a seat in the Wizengamot, have property and investments throughout the world, and large vaults in Gringotts which are said to be well supplied with heirlooms and gold. Hell, if he asked, I would have to consider it too! And I DON'T fancy men in the least!" Flint laughed at his joke and others joined in.

"Professor Snape, if you please" Flint asked politely.

Professor Snape stood once more, waving his wand and muttering as several more tables appeared, identical to the first, with sufficient seating for those not in the first test group.

"Now, let's eat!"

At Flint's comment, the first course appeared, not on common serving dishes, but on each individual's plate. Each course appeared in its time, the meal far beyond the plebian tastes of the meal they had skipped in the Great Hall.

Two hours later, the purebloods who knew etiquette were clearly distinguished from those who only had a passing familiarity with the subject. Ronald Bilius Weasley was the largest surprise to everyone other than his brothers. (Molly had beaten proper behavior into all her children.)

As they dispersed for the evening, everyone was surprised by one other thing. The meeting had been a lot of fun.

*** Two days prior ***

"Mr. Flint, might I have a word in private?"

Marcus Flint turned quickly to discover Slytherin first year Pansey Parkinson standing there, waiting patiently for his response.

"Uh, sure, Miss Parkinson, right?" Flint managed after a moment.

"Yes, Mr. Flint." Looking right and left, Pansy noted there was no one nearby, "I have been confused on blood status. If someone has a muggle for a parent" Pansy looked almost ill at the thought, "and a witch or wizard for a parent, they are halfblood."

Flint nodded, waiting for the question.

"And if both parents for at least three generations are magical, they are considered 'pureblood'" again a look of disdain graced Pansy's features.

Again Flint nodded, waiting for the question and wishing she would hurry. "Your question?" prodding her to get to the point.

"What about those who have a mudblood for a parent, yet the other parent is pureblood? By definition it seems they are not halfblood, but also not pureblood and definitely not mudblood. Is there another category?" Pansy asked.

Marcus was stumped. He had never thought of this 'in-between' status.

"Miss Parkinson, are you planning to be at the etiquette club meeting?"

Flint waited until Pansy nodded yes.

"Then I shall have the answer to your question at that time. See you there!" as he turned to walk away briskly.

*** Earlier That Day ***

Draco was aware of the etiquette club meeting in two days. He really wanted Harry to be there, but there was no way to do so without at least hinting at his plans.

At the very least, he had to get the other purebloods thinking about Harry Potter, more specifically that Harry was not a mudblood or halfblood.

Smiling to himself, he decided to sit beside Pansy this morning.

Thinking the smile was for her, Pansy smiled back and patted the bench beside her.

'That was too easy' Draco thought as he sat down.

The hardest part was how to steer the conversation to Harry.

Pansy practically glowed, "You missed it! The Head of House Weasley just apologized in public… to Harry Potter!"

*** Ten Minutes Earlier ***

"I, Arthur Septimus Weasley, Head of the Ancient House of Weasley, do hereby apologize for the actions of a member of my House, one Ronald Bilius Weasley. The issue has been addressed within the House and will not be repeated. In consideration for your acceptance of this most sincere apology, House Weasley acknowledges a minor debt is owed to the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, to be negotiated in good faith at a later date."

Harry wondered how he kept getting himself in these situations, but knew a Head of House offering public apology and a minor debt was a pretty good trade for Ron pulling on his arm during his first train ride. The books Draco loaned him were already proving their value.

"I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, accept your apology in the spirit in which it is given, agree to negotiate in good faith the minor debt owed. I declare there are no further issues between our Houses and all previous problems are set aside as misadventures. May our Houses continue from this day in peace and plenty."

Harry stepped forward, offering his hand which Arthur shook in relief.

Pulling Mr. Weasley closer, Harry whispered, "Ronald's conduct has been most satisfactory since his aborted apology. Thank you for dealing with the issue so quickly."

Mr. Weasley whispered back, "Thank you Lord Potter for not pushing this any further. I am certain you could have pursued a legal remedy for the incident on the train. You have my gratitude and that of my House."

Many pureblood eyes watched as 'the train incident', as it had come to be known, was formally laid to rest.

The more astute realized the ascension of House Potter had begun.

Dumbledore was shaking his head as he watched the exchange of oaths. Once again, he knew what would happen ahead of time. In fact he had instructed Arthur in the appropriate wording of his oath. Keeping the Weasleys on his side and young Ronald out of jail was for the Greater Good. At the same time, this exchange of oaths strengthened young Harry's hold on his Head of House status, which was not for the Greater Good as far as Albus could see. In frustration, Albus left the Great Hall soon after, trying to think of a leash for this new young Lord.

*** The Week before the Etiquette Club's First Meeting ***

Draco considered his plans.
The most important aspect was to increase the power of House Potter.
A secondary and short term goal, get the purebloods talking about Harry in a neutral or better light.

After pondering, Draco decided his previous plans were the best he could devise at the moment. To increase the power of the House of Potter, Draco would drive the mudbloods to Harry's banner. They would bring no political power to Potter, therefore the purebloods would not become too nervous too soon. Yet the mudbloods would bring wands and skills, increasing the viability of the House of Potter as a functioning household. Grateful for Harry's protection, the muggleborn would be near fanatical in their service.

One mudblood in particular would be useful, Hermione Granger. Some professors were already whispering she was the smartest witch of this generation. Having her in his House would be a major benefit to Harry.

And anything that benefits Harry would (eventually) benefit Draco.

Draco smiled innocently. It was a look he had perfected under his mother's harsh tutelage.

It was time to write Father.

Father,

Hogwarts is everything you said it would be and more.

Professor Snape is a most excellent instructor and my work in his class has been exemplary. Truthfully, I am almost bored. Fortunately my Godfather allows me to work ahead.

The other classes are not as interesting as I had hoped. History of Magic is a monumental waste of time. I use the notes you provided. Professor Binns drones on, repeating word for word what you wrote down from his lectures when you were here. Defense against the Dark Arts is a laugh! I learned more from my tutors before coming to Hogwarts than I have learned in almost two months under Professor Quirrell.

I have noticed the purebloods within the school do not associate with each other as a collective group, most preferring to visit with closer friends.

Was it this way when you went to school here?

If only we had a club or something, where the purebloods could get to know each other.

Did you have something like that when you went to school here?

Alas, homework beckons.

Please give Mother my love.

Your Heir,

Draco

The next morning Draco received his response.

My Heir,

Times do change. Defense against the Dark Arts was well instructed in my days at Hogwarts. I am sorry the instruction has fallen so far. Rest assured you will be tutored extensively during the holidays to correct any deficits.

In my youth, many purebloods knew each other prior to attending Hogwarts and introductions were expected to those you did not know. Even enemies were formally introduced as long as a blood feud was not active.

The situation you find yourself in is less than desirable. I shall contact your godfather about forming a student organization to facilitate the mingling of the pureblood students.

Your mother instructed me to return your affections and to say she misses you.

We will speak more candidly when we meet during the holidays.

Your Father

A mountain side strewn with dirt, pebbles, rocks, and boulders may be dislodged by moving a single stone creating an avalanche which swept up all in its path, destroying all which attempted to stand against it; reforming the landscape as it passed.

Harry Potter would be Draco's avalanche, reshaping wizarding Britain in his wake.

All Draco had to do was find the right pebble to kick.

Draco smiled upon re-reading his father's letter.

A promising pebble indeed…

Draco looked forward to kicking it.