Better Be Slytherin
XIII
Ordinary Wizarding Levels
She had not spoken to Malfoy since the incident in the Hog's Head, and Pansy reckoned that it was probably for the best – they were both too heated for each other. And anyway, their relationship had not perhaps been the most mature one – well, they were only fifteen weren't they – meaning, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
A couple of weeks passed, and finally the Quidditch Cup was coming to an end (the Slytherins could not wait for it to be over, now that their team had been eliminated) in the final match: Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw was up by three points, but Gryffindor had a secure history of winning. She glanced at Malfoy while she loudly sang – screamed – the lyrics of Weasley is Our King, noting that he was doing the same, singing enthusiastically and angrily with Crabbe, Goyle and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Gryffindor would not win! They wouldn't! But they did...
Directly after that, the preparations for the OWLs began. The teachers were not handing out homework anymore; the classes were set to repeat things that the teachers figured most likely to be relevant to the exams, preparing the students as best as they could. Pansy could feel the goal-orientated, hectic atmosphere – there was nothing in mind but revising.
She and Malfoy glared at each other for several days. Pansy loudly told all of her friends about how they split up and about how nasty he had been for no reason and so on.
Draco had neither strength nor time to bother – he had loads on his mind and things to do each day, so they did not practically have time to even see each other, so making up was out of the question.
The castle was beaming in the sunlight, the cloudless sky was reflected in the calm, glittering lake, and now and then, a slight breeze moved over the widespread greens. June had arrived, and the OWLs were getting very close.
Draco told himself he was not panicking, and he tried to read as much he could in his stupid History, Potions and Transfiguration books, but nothing was going in.
"Of course, it's not what you know", he told Crabbe and Goyle outside Potions a few days before the exams were to start, in a desperate attempt to calm himself down and pretend everything was all right, "it's who you know. Now, Father's been friendly with the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority for years – old Griselda Marchbanks – we've had her round for dinner and everything…"
Snape informed them firmly and in a chilly tone that all exams would be strictly overseen and that there was no point in even attempting to cheat or use Self-Correcting Ink or Rememberalls or anything of the sort. Draco was beginning to shake with nervousness when he heard the words. His classmates did not look very calm either. Crabbe and Goyle both looked very anxious, as most of them did, but Theodore Nott seemed unusually laid back, moving his quill over a parchment in a bored manner, drawing circles. Draco swallowed hard.
The last night before the first exam was to begin, they were all practicing handy spells, or reading up on the last bit of information they managed before their heads exploded. Pansy was hysterical – he saw it from the other side of the common room, and did not care. Serves her right, he thought briefly, with a smirk on his face. Zabini and Nott were both reading, while Crabbe and Goyle practiced spells on each other and the common room, which was the cause of all the mess – they had ripped apart books, sending yellowing parchments to spread all over the floor, along with the cotton insides of the sofa cushions; and Millicent's big black cat was for some reason hiding in a corner with his fur on all ends, making him look like a giant hedgehog.
The following morning at half past nine, their first exam was set to be – Charms, the written test. They were all in the Great Hall – they had just had breakfast, some of the students had been up at six for breakfast and a last-minute revising session, but Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had strolled down their just before nine for some breakfast, and after devouring their eggs and bacon, they had simply waited for the exam to begin. There was nothing he could do now, Draco reckoned. He would only stress himself up more if he tried reading any more. They were waiting in the Entrance Hall before being called in by class.
When all the fifth years were finally in the Hall, by an individual desk with their quills and parchments at the ready and their books and schoolbags resting safely away from peeking eyes at the front of the room behind professor McGonagall, they could begin at last.
"You may begin now," the professor announced, when everyone was sat down and silent.
Draco turned the parchment to finally stare the exam in the face. 'A) Give the spell and b) describe the wand movement that is required to cause objects to fly.'
This particular exam seemed ridiculously easy, and Draco exhaled deeply. It took two hours and contained practically only questions about the most common, easiest spells and charms that they had practiced the most during all five years in Charms.
Their stomachs were growling when they had lunch two hours later. Crabbe was complaining all through it about everything he had done wrong and how he had not remembered anything and had not gotten anything right, while stuffing his face with fried chicken, but Draco only smirked and pretended to listen. Crabbe did not need good marks, anyway.
After lunch, they were told to make their way into the small atrium beside the Great Hall where they would wait until their name was called, for the practical Charms exams.
Crabbe had already left, and they did not seem to come back to this place after finishing. While Goyle and Greengrass left the room, Draco, Zabini and Pansy practiced spells – Pansy looked as nervous as he felt.
Pansy watched Malfoy disappear through the wooden doors back into the Great Hall for his practical exams. Just after that, Nott disappeared as well. It was only her, Blaise and Queenie Wilkes left. She tried to go through everything in her mind as a last minute precaution – the wand movements, the pronunciation of the spells, and then it was her turn to make her way into the Great Hall along with the Patils and Potter. Malfoy was halfway through his exam, and Pansy noticed how he glared at Potter as they appeared, and the glass he was levitating came crashing down. Serves him right, she thought, sneering contently.
Pansy managed it all right, and the next day was the Transfiguration exams, making things disappear among other things, with the Vanishing Spell she had mastered so well that autumn; on Wednesday they had the Herbology tests; Defence against the Dark Arts on Thursday, focusing on counter curses and defence charms; Friday was free. Pansy thought that she might just survive this.
That Monday they had their Potions exam – Pansy was always better at that, and naturally did better there. They had both the written – with questions about the effects of Polyjuice elixir for example - and the practical one after lunch. The following day the exam for Care of Magial Creatures was set – identifying a Kneazle among hedgehogs, show the correct treatment of a Bowtruckle, feed and clean a Blast-Ended Skrewt without any serious burn injuries, as well as picking the right food from a large table. Wednesday came along with the last examination, finally, in History of Magic. It was a written one, in the Great Hall, but not until the afternoon meaning they could all have a proper night's sleep until noon and have lunch for breakfast. All of her Slytherin classmates, along with the rest of the fifth years looked exhausted while they waited before being let into the Great Hall at two o'clock.
They all entered and made their way inside the hall, the Slytherins by pushing past students of the other houses, and took their respective places by one of the small desks. Before them all there were one set of exams, the fine bundle of parchments turned upside-down.
"Turn over your exam," they heard professor Marchbanks from the front of the hall as the ruckus settled when every single student had found their seat. "You may begin," she carried on and turned over the giant hourglass, its sand slowly beginning to make its way down from one end to the other.
Pansy forced her eyes off it and looked down at her parchment, turning it over. She rose one sceptical eyebrow as she read the first question, concerning the Goblin riots. She narrowed her eyes as she scribbled down a summated answer, trying to sound more literate than she actually was.
"According to you, did the Wand legislation contribute to or result in a better control over the Goblin riots of the eighteenth century? How? Explain."
Pansy frowned. Bloody hell. She'd known the OWL would mostly concern the Wand legislation, the Goblin riots, the Statue of Secrecy and the ICW – which was what she'd revised as well, luckily – but she had not realised it would be this detailed. She glanced at the next question.
"How was the Statue of Secrecy breached in 1749 and what was issued to prevent a repetition?"
Sod it...
"Give an account of the circumstance that led to the formation of the International Confederation of Wizards (ICW) and please explain why the Warlocks of Liechtenstein refused to join."
She knew that one! Sort of. It had something to do with the leader of the ICW, whom the Wizarding academy of Lichtenstein refused to accept because... because he had angered them terribly – Pansy reckoned it had something to do with trolls. Think, Pansy, think, she ordered herself aggressively. She needed to receive better marks than her fellow housemates. She glanced at Theodore Nott to her left, resolute expression on his face, scribbling down very hastily words that seemed to fill entire pages. She unwillingly let out an irritated groan and a roll of her eyes. Bloody Theodore Nott. He broke out of his trance for a second to instinctively throw a glance at her, which made her roll her eyes again and turn back to her own parchment which was almost empty except for a few paragraphs.
She reckoned Draco probably did worse than her though –the thought cheered her up slightly, and with a curled lip and feeling a tiny bit reassured she went for the next question, deciding she'd go back to the previous one in a while – no reason to dwell on it and losing time.
Fifteen minutes later she had read most of the questions and was getting very tired of the words "please explain" – when suddenly an ear-ringing scream filled the room. Pansy jumped, as a few other people did, and everyone looked around the room in stiff positions trying to locate the sound, which did not stop. A cry so loud and horrifying Pansy felt chills in the back of her neck.
Potter.
That bloody idiot had fallen asleep, started yelling and tumbled off his seat and onto the floor. She sighed loudly – typical of Potter, wasn't it, that great crave for attention. She and Daphne locked eyes and in a sceptical share of eye contact, as most of the students turned back to their exams, while Potter had to be excused and did not finish his own. Probably only put on a show for sympathy and so he would not have to finish – either that or he really did fall asleep, most likely out of revising-stress. Pansy sneered – although in that case perhaps Potter wasn't a total nutter – because it was well knackering, the whole OWL function.
The test went on and the sand of the giant hourglass had almost made its way through. Additionally half an hour passed as Pansy worked feverishly on the remaining parts of her exam. She had written down many of the answers, but was not near satisfied. Another frustrated grunt. As more and more of her fellow students began rising from their seats, walking up to the front of the hall and leaving their exams in the waiting hands of professor Marchbanks, her concentration began faltering. Finally, as her fellow Slytherins all had left along with all but a great deal of Ravenclaws, she decided to collect her parchments and hand it in to professor Marchbanks. Whatever, she thought as she sauntered out of the Great Hall. She probably did well anyway, and she had lost all focus.
She came out into the Entrance Hall outside where there was still a ruckus, it was packed with students who were either standing in groups speaking about the finished exam or making their way towards respective common rooms. She noticed Malfoy nonchalantly leaned back against a marble pillar just by the stairs down to the dungeons, with Crabbe and Goyle by his sides, having a chat with a few of the lads from the Quidditch team who, she supposed, had been on their way to wait outside the Great Hall until dinner was served, if she knew them right.
She was just about to make her way past and head for the dungeons as, all of a sudden, Filch came scuffing and panting down the last staircase from above and waving his arms frantically at the gang of Slytherins. "Squad!" he called out excitedly. "Umbridge, professor Umbridge! She needs your help! Gather everyone, quick, and run off to her office!"
Pansy felt as surprised as Malfoy and the rest looked, but naturally she made her way over, showing her true loyalties – just as Malfoy nodded at Crabbe and Goyle, and Filch hurried off. Malfoy noticed her and nodded at her as well, and the four of them set off towards Umbridge's office immediately.
"Wonder what this could be about," Malfoy said on the way, and Pansy could make out the sly anticipation in him. Making their way two sets of moving stairs up, as quickly as they could, Millicent Bulstrode and Caecus Warrington joined them, ready for whatever was coming, just as Pansy and the rest. The gang of Slytherins made their way through the final, badly lit, corridor and spotted Umbridge outside her office.
Draco was just about to speak, letting her know they were there and they were willing to work, but Umbridge, whose evil eyes lit up as she saw them hurrying towards her, hastily held up a fat finger against her mouth to silence them. Draco frowned sideways and noticed Pansy wore the same expression. He cleared his throat.
"Why are we standing out here, Headmistress?" he wondered in a low voice.
Umridge's toad-like features was practically glowing, a crooked smile forming on her lips. "Because Potter is in my office," she said slowly.
Draco immediately understood her joy, and he lit up as he turned to look at his fellow Squad-members who were all beginning to snigger. Umbridge gave a small wave, motioning for them to follow her, and they did, rounding a corner and spotting Ginny Weasley loudly leading students away from the corridor, telling everyone there was no passing. Draco glanced at an heated Umbridge.
Then, under a split second, there was a chain of events. Ginny Weasley noticed them, her face turning into a frightened frown, Umbridge's loud panting was the only sound, before they heard a high-pitched voice shout: "Stupefy!" and Ginny Weasley, shocked, flew a meter backwards and tumbled down onto the floor; the remaining students turned around at the ruckus, as the Squad surprisedly saw Pansy lunging forward triumphantly.
"I got her, all right," she said enthusiastically, and Draco couldn't help the proud smirk that spread on his face, while Umbridge guffawed "well done, miss Parkinson," and the rest of the Squad sniggered at Pansy's performance and Weasley's limp body on the floor.
Umbridge hurried forward with an almost bloodthirsty look on her face, but in a split second they heard a loud "Nooo!" and Longbottom, that oaf, spang forward. "Don't touch her!"
"Get him!" Umbridge roared, and Crabbe and Warrington hurried after him.
"Hurry!" Umbridge cried and began running, because there was a sound as when rats was chased out of their gutters, and they had spotted King Weasley further along. "Don't let them escape!"
Draco could not help but to wonder what in Merlin's name was going on.
Warrington conjured up a gag around Longbottom's mouth while Crabbe held his arms forcefully. Longbottom was fighting hysterically, kicking and crawling, but to no use. Pansy began running after Umbridge, and that was when Draco reacted – he could not be worse than a girl, could he – and ran after them, hoping to be the one to catch Potter.
There was a blur of a short couple of minutes, Draco's heartbeats in his ears, his eyes moving quickly around every classroom he passed, every corner he turned, until he heard something behind a large, patterned drape.
"Here! Here they are, in here!" Draco shouted energetically as he pulled his wand out. "I'm sure of it!"
"Well, get them out, by all means!" he heard Umbridge call back, turning her neck from running further along the corridor.
Imagine his disappointment when all he found was Lisa Turpin and Zacharias Smith snogging.
Five minutes later the others all unkindly brought their prisoners into Umbridge's office (Draco, who had gone there straight after the snogging-discovery, made sure to quickly hide the fact that he hadn't actually captured anyone, by blending in with the others). A surprising sight awaited his fellow Squad-members at arrival – Umbridge had found Potter with his face in her fireplace. Umbridge took Potter's wand and tossed it to Draco. Right, now he had one proper task.
Millicent Bulstrode was holding Granger, while Umbridge had Potter, and Draco stood leaned against the window pane, grinning scornfully while tossing up Potter's wand in the air with one hand and catching it again with the other.
"Who have you been in contact with?" Umbridge harshly asked Potter. She seemed livid.
Crabbe and Goyle both watched on the scene with their mouths open. Pansy was smirking around surprised at the other prisoners and the scene inside. They were the first ones of the Squad to arrive.
"Nobody," Potter said and tried to break free from Umbridge's grasp.
"LIAR!" yelled Umbridge and pushed him away so Potter flew into the desk with a loud bang. There was more ruckus, and Warrington, Bulstrode and the rest joined them, each with a firm grip on King Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Looney Lovegood and Longbottom.
"We got them all," said Warrington and gave Weasley a push forward. "That one," he said, pointing a fat finger at Longbottom, "tried to stop me getting her," he pointed at the female Weasley, who was trying to kick Bulstrode's shins, "so I took him too."
"Very well," said Umbridge, eyeing Ginny Weasley's attempts. "Well, then, it looks as if Hogwarts soon will be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"
Draco laughed loudly. Umbridge smiled her broad, complacent smile and placed herself in a chintz armchair while blinking up at her prisoners like a toad in a flowerbed.
"Well then, Potter. You placed people on look-out around my office and you sent this clown," she nodded towards Weasley, making Draco laugh even louder, "to let me know that Peeves was havocing in the Charms corridor, when I certainly knew he was eagerly busy smearing ink in all the school's telescopes, because Mr Filch just had informed me of it. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or that half-human, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I've heard she's still too ill to speak to anybody."
Draco, along with a couple of the other member's of the Squad gave a laugh. Potter looked murderous. "It's none of your business who I speak to," he snarled.
Umbridge's limp face stiffened. "Very well," she said in her most dangerous and fake honey-tone. "Well, then, Potter. I offered you a chance to tell me voluntarily. You refused. I have no choice but to force you. Draco, fetch professor Snape."
Draco hurried off, thinking what good Snape would do in a situation like this, while he rushed through the corridor, down the magical staircase and down to Snape's office in the dungeons. Luckily Snape was there and Draco quickly explained how Umbridge needed his assistance, and they were off.
When they came back, Draco entered the room and held the door open for his Head of House.
"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" said Snape and looked around indifferently at all the struggling prisoners.
Umbridge tried to convince Snape to give her Veritaserum, the truth-telling serum, but Snape had none in store. Finally, she turned angry and yelled, in an high-pitched tone: "I'm putting you on trial!"
Snape eyed her with slightly raised brows.
"You're being deliberately unhelpful! I'd expected better from you, Lucius Malfoy always speaks highly appreciatively about you! Get out of my office!"
Snape gave an ironic bow and left, but not before Potter managed to shout some nonsense at him.
"Well, then," said Umbridge and pulled out her wand. She actually looked mad now, it almost frightened Draco. He'd never seen her quite like that. "I've got no choice... It's more than a question of school discipline… it's a question about the Ministry's safety… yes… yes…" She looked both nervous and masochistic. "You leave me no choice, Potter, I'd rather not. But sometimes the end justifies the means. I'm sure the Minister will understand I had no choice.
Warrington and Montague was eyeing her with ravenous anticipation.
"The Cruciatus curse ought to loosen your tongue," said Umbridge in a low voice.
"No!" cried Granger shrilly. "Professor Umbridge... that's illegal."
Umbridge did not bother to acknowledge her. There was a nasty, eagerly excited expression on her face Draco never had seen before. He frowned. She raised her wand.
"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, professor Umbridge!" yelled Granger desperately.
"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," said Umbridge, pointing at Potter and panting lightly. Then she took a deep breath and screamed: "Cruc—"
"No!" cried Granger. "No… Harry… We've got to tell her!"
"Never!" roared Potter, turned to Granger. The Squad watched on in stunned surprise. What in Merlin's name?
And so Granger revealed Dumbledore's plan and weapon to her friends' anger and disappointment – the traitor. Draco felt excited at once, and hoped he could come along to look at this weapon which they apparently had been working on the entire year. She actually confessed they were making a weapon to fight the Ministry! Stupid girl.
"Take me to this weapon," said Umbridge, looking triumphant.
"I won't show it to... those," said Granger shrilly and motioned towards the Slytherins.
"Professor," Draco then chose to speak up, eager. "Professor Umbridge, I think someone from the Squad should come with you to make sure..."
"I'm a fully competent Ministry official, Malfoy, do you not think I can handle two wand-less teenagers on my own?"
She ordered them all to stay, looking slightly worried, as if they were all trying to steal her power.
"All right," Draco got out bitterly. And so she, Potter and Granger left the office.
And Draco and the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad was suddenly duelled down by the Weasley's, Neville and Luna Lovegood, who managed to escape, while the Squad lay in the room moaning, unable to move, covered in slime and bats.
Bastards. He'd get them, sooner or later. He would.
