Better Be Slytherin
XLIX
Slytherin Rebellion

The rain splattered against the Transfiguration courtyard, he saw from the window in the tower going down from Muggle Studies. The weather was unusually bad for late April, spring should be in bloom by now but he supposed it was because of the Dementors and the Dark Lord. Dark times indeed. Still, his day felt brighter than normal. It was like a whole new world had opened up after last night. Pansy knew. Pansy knew everything, and she agreed, and he didn't have to hide or pretend anything anymore.

"What do you want for you birthday?" asked Pansy as they made their way down the staircase, Crabbe and Goyle in their wake.

A jolt of nausea went through his stomach. He hadn't even realised his birthday was just over a month away. He didn't even know if he would be alive by then. Planning ahead or thinking of the future just wasn't his reality at the moment.

It reminded him of when he was younger, and his father had asked him the same thing.

"What do you want for your birthday this year son?"

"Hmm... I want you to execute that mad Hippogriff. And a new broom"

Lucius had smirked behind the Daily Prophet. "You had a new broom last year. Don't be greedy."

Draco had sulked and pouted for the rest of breakfast.

"I haven't got a clue, Pans. Nothing really," he sighed. The rain was pouring down when they reached the Great Hall, and he shuddered at the thought of going outside.

"Well that's boring," she said rolling her eyes. Draco didn't speak, but helped himself to some onion soup. "Anyway," she continued. "What are we going to do about this whole situation?"

"Shh!" he said instantly, and looked around to make sure nobody had heard. Only Tracey Davis was looking at him suspiciously. "Don't talk about that here."

"But, Draco," she said, lowering her voice. "What are we going to do about the Carrows? How are we going to act?"

"Like I told you yesterday, just act normal. Nothing needs to change." He sipped his pumpkin juice and whispered, "And I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"But," she went on anyway. "I'm not exactly a good actor. I mean, what if—"

"Just pretend, Pansy," he hissed, "can't be that difficult, can it? You pretend to like Greengrass' different hairstyles every day."

She looked indignant. "I told you that in confidence!" she hissed. "Besides, it's different. White lies here and there... no problem. But lying about something like this? Something that could potentially get us tortured or worse—"

"I've got it under control all right!" he snarled at her, avoiding her gaze. He didn't like to be reminded of how dangerous this was. "I've been doing it all year."

"But I just think, maybe we should talk to the others about—"

"Definitely not! We shouldn't even be discussing this," he hissed. "Especially here. Anyone could overhear us."

"I know," she whispered, "but maybe some of the others agree with—"

Crabbe and Goyle came scuffling over, and Draco's eyes widened and he hissed at Pansy, "Shut up! Crabbe and Goyle are coming."

He vaguely heard Pansy mumbling something rude back but he had already turned away from her.

"Charms starts in five," said Gregory dully. But Crabbe looked suspicious.

"Fine, I'm coming," said Draco shortly and got up from the table. Before he left, he leaned in and whispered: "You, remember to keep your mouth shut today. No gossiping to your girlfriends about this. OK?!"

Looking insulted, Pansy rolled her eyes and said pointedly, "Ok...!"

He wasn't convinced.


"How was History?" asked Pansy casually over dinner a few hours later. They'd had separate lessons all day. He was nervous to know whether she'd been able to keep quiet.

"Fine," he said shortly. "We're doing International Magic now. Binns set us an essay to compare Wizarding culture and politics in an optional European country to England. Actually rather interesting. What have you been doing?"

"We had a free period. We were meant to do that assignment for Alecto but I couldn't be bothered. We did our nails instead." She held up her hand to show him.

He was tempted to roll his eyes. He'd been worried about Pansy blabbing about his loyalties all day but she'd spent her afternoon painting her sodding nails.


The water was pounding down into the large tub, the sound echoing across the white room so she could barely hear Draco's voice when he said, "I'm so tired."

They were in the Head Boy's bathroom that night after supper, a room that had been magically added for Draco when he became Head Boy, just off the Slytherin common room. Pansy had one herself, but obviously it wasn't as fun going for a bath in separate bathrooms.

Draco was sitting on the edge of the small pool in only boxers, rubbing the back of his neck. His legs were dangling in the quickly filling tub. The room was a strange contrast to the common room, and they could never have guessed they were in fact under the lake. Whereas the common room was dark and cold, the Head bathroom was completely made of white marble with fake windows and magically lit and heated so that it felt like they were lying on a beach somewhere by the Mediterranean. She was in a warm bath robe experimenting with the different taps. Finally she chose the large pink bubbles, which began spewing out of the tap.

She walked across the warm floor and seductively dropped her bath robe to reveal her naked body to Draco. He smirked. She got in the pool and sat down across from him.

She looked away so he wouldn't feel embarrassed when he rose to take his boxers off, even though shed seen him naked a hundred times, never this far away from him and never when his dick hadn't been hard. He joined her in the hot water and conjured two Butterbeers.

He downed his in about ten seconds. "Classy," said Pansy, rolling her eyes.

"Coming from the girl who used to wank me off in broom cupboards on Prefect patrols," snorted Draco.

"Now," he then said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, moving closer. "Come here. I want my dessert," smirked Draco.

"Oh, how romantic," said Pansy sarcastically.


Draco woke up next morning in an empty dormitory, meaning he'd overslept. So he scrambled his things together and hurried up to breakfast. He caught Crabbe and Goyle just as they were finishing theirs.

"Where've you been?" asked Crabbe suspiciously, a piece of fried egg dangling on the left side of his mouth.

Draco managed to grab himself a couple toasts before the food disappeared, as he said, "None of your business, Crabbe. What do we have now?"

"Dark Arts," grunted Goyle.

"You can't sneak off like that," spat Crabbe. "People might start thinking you're up to something."

"I can do whatever I please, Vince," sneered Draco. "And for your information, I overslept." Just after he said it, he regretted doing so. Who did Crabbe think he was making Draco explain himself?

Goyle cleared his throat awkwardly as Draco and Crabbe glared at each other.

"We'd better get a move on," said Goyle then, and Draco grabbed his last toast and chewed on it through the entrance hall and up the stairs. It was so dry it made his mouth feel gluey.

"Oh no!" Goyle suddenly exclaimed, making Draco jump, startled. "Amycus' effin' essay is for today, isn't it?"

Draco exhaled, thinking he would say something worse. They waited for the moving staircase they were on to reach its destination while Draco replied, "That's right, Greg. You haven't finished?"

"I forgot, didn't I," wailed Goyle.

"Who cares," grunted Crabbe, who was still in a bad mood because of Draco. "Amycus won't care. It's only a bloody essay. Plus we're on his good side anyway."

Draco wasn't sure he liked this new, confident Crabbe that had evolved over the last few months.

They arrived to the Dark Arts classroom, a large room lit badly by the candles in the iron chandelier.

"Welcome, students," said Amycus, who was leaning against his desk, surveying them like a hawk when they took their places. "Firstly, I want your Inferi essays back."

He waved his wand lazily and rolls of parchment came flying towards him. Goyle shrunk subtly in his seat. Amycus pretended not to notice there had been an essay too few from the Slytherin table, but he definitely noticed there was one lacking from the Gryffindor one.

He narrowed his eyes and said, "Longbottom! Your essay seems to be missing."

Everyone turned to look at Neville Longbottom, who looked defiant. "I haven't had time to write it."

"You'll address me as sir, or professor."

"I haven't had time, professor."

"Well, that certainly won't do," said Amycus with a small smile. "No, that's most definitely won't do, Longbottom! Detention!"

Longbottom sighed irritatedly, "If you've forgotten, I've been in detention every night for the past two weeks, which is why I haven't had time to write it."

"And if you stop misbehaving you won't land yourself in detention!" Amycus was now shouting.

"Just because I stand up for the first years that are being tortured by you and your sister!" Longbottom yelled back, his face now wildly red.

"Punishment, Longbottom!"

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws shouted their protests, but Amycus pointed his wand at Longbottom who angrily got to the front of the classroom. Instead of the usual Cruciatus Curse, Amycus punched him in the face. They could hear his jaw crack, and Longbottom stumbled into a desk.

A loud disgusted gasp was heard at the Slytherin table, and Draco's attention shot there at once. It was Pansy. She'd turned her head away not to see, and was swallowing hard, her eyes closed.

Several of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had turned to look too. Draco's heart started beating. It was suddenly very silent. Amycus stopped and slowly looked up at Pansy instead. There was a moment where Amycus stared at Pansy, the whole class holding a breath, while Pansy didn't notice.

Then, he tossed Longbottom to the side and said, "You don't like what it is I'm doing then, miss Parkinson?"

Pansy looked up and slowly turned back, very apprehensive. The two stared at each other, and then Amycus suddenly yelled, "Then maybe you should come up here and do it yourself! If you've actually got any pure blood in you!"

Pansy opened her mouth but didn't say anything. She glanced around, swallowed and rose. Draco felt a slight annoyance that she couldn't act as well as he could and just keep her mouth shut.

"That's right, you do it instead. Give him a Crucio, go on..."

Amycus looked like he was rather enjoying it. Nobody else looked amused – the whole class sat quiet as mice, shocked and scared, except from Crabbe who had his usual smirk. They weren't used to someone as Pureblood and high-ranking as Pansy being challenged. Greengrass and Wilkes sent each other unsure looks. Nott was frowning.

Pansy's face was screwed up in apparent discomfort as she pulled out her wand and pointed it to Longbottom who was bent over clutching his face. Amycus smiled widely showing his uneven teeth. "Go on."

"Crucio," said Pansy in a shivering voice. Nothing happened.

Amycus looked fierce. "You need to ruddy mean it! Or it won't happen!"

Pansy tore her eyes off Longbottom and daringly looked up into Amycus' face, feigning confidence. "Do you really want me spilling pure blood, professor?"

Amycus looked vaguely surprised for a moment and then he smiled evilly. "Well, choose whoever you like, girly!" he said, waving an arm over the class. He sniggered.

When Pansy slowly turned to look out over the class, her fear was obvious for everyone to see. Draco was torn between wanting to help her and being annoyed with her for not playing it cooler. She brought herself up there. Her eyes darted over the class and her gaze lingered at Draco desperately, but he knew she had no choice, and what was he supposed to do?

He'd felt this way for ages and not shown it – she'd felt this way for two days and was already spilling the beans. Pansy shouldn't have brought this upon herself; it put them both in a difficult situation.

"Sir," he began, protesting slowly, feeling obliged to. "Perhaps someone else could do it; I'm not sure Pansy—"

"I've said I want her to do it!" Amycus snapped. "Don't question me, Malfoy; you're not going to take the hit for your precious girlfriend this time all righ'..."

"I'm merely suggest—"

"Silence! I'm the ruddy teacher here, aren't I? Another word from you and you'll have landed yourself in detention every night until this term ends."

"You can't do that, professor, I'm Head Boy. I'll speak to professor Snape—"

"Shut up, boy!" Amycus roared. "Detention!"

"Draco, it's fine, I'll do it," Pansy said quickly. She didn't want him to sacrifice himself. "No need for detention, Professor, I'm doing it."

Amycus licked his lips and tapped his wand against the wood surface of desk. "Now go on! We don't have all day, do we, missy."

She picked someone at random. Pansy swallowed and said, "Him". She nodded towards someone in the far back of the classroom. Everyone turned. Terry Boot was staring appalled back at Pansy.

The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors broke into protests at once. "He's not done anything!"

"You can't possibly—!"

But Amycus merely barked, "Shut up, you bloody kids! Be happy it's not you instead!"

The pupils fell silent although some were still clinging onto Boot as if to stop him, or protect him. One of the Ravenclaw girls had tears in her eyes.

"Boot, get up here!"

The Ravenclaws were tugging on his arms but surprisingly he made his way through the classroom and came up to Pansy at the front.

Daphne Greengrass caught Draco's eyes, and he felt as though she wanted him to do something but what could he do? He avoided her gaze, but she wouldn't look away. He glanced to his left instead, where Blaise and Theodore were frowning unsurely.

Boot's eyes didn't leave Pansy; he looked at her, disgusted.

"Bitch," Boot breathed so only Pansy could hear. It angered her but not to the point where she felt like she could do this to him.

Pansy and Boot stood face to face and stared, and then Pansy raised her quivering arm.

"Oh, no no no," came Amycus' amused voice, "That's not how I want it happening. Boot, get on your knees. By our feet, you Mudblood, it's where you belong."

If looks could kill, Amycus would be dead. Reluctantly, his jaw trembling in suppressed fury, Boot got to his knees.

Amycus laughed. "Now do him."

"Crucio!" said Pansy quickly, her voice louder, but still nothing happened. Amycus frowned expectantly at her. "Just have to warm up..." mumbled Pansy.

"Crucio!" she shouted. Nothing happened. "Bloody Crucio!" she was waving her wand furiously now. Draco cringed watching. Then she turned to Amycus. "It doesn't work, sir, you have to mean it."

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaws fell silent. Draco licked his lips nervously. Crabbe's eyes were narrowing suspiciously now. Amycus stared at her for a second and then, "IDIOT GIRL! Just mean it then! Why don't you mean it then?!"

Pansy started backwards, not used to being shouted at, Draco was sure. Then she collected herself and now her face was completely different – contemptuous, insulted, angered, consequence-less.

"Because I don't take pleasure in hurting innocent kids like us."

The class was deadly silent. Everyone was staring at Pansy and professor Carrow, the latter looking absolutely shocked, that a Slytherin would've said something like that.

Then, with a whoosh of air, his hand collided with her face. He'd slapped her. Pansy shrieked and turned away clutching his cheek. Draco, Nott, Greengrass, Wilkes, Goyle and Bulstrode sprang to their feet.

"INNONCENT?! INNOCENT?! THEY'RE STEALING THEIR POWERS FROM DECENT WIZARDS, PARKINSON! THEY WANT TO DILUTE OUR BLOOD! THEY'RE DIRTY AND UNWORTHY AND THEY'RE STEALING OUR POWERS AND DILUTING OUR BLOOD!"

"I haven't stolen anything!" Boot shouted, encouraged by Pansy. "I'm Halfblood!" He was standing up now, and they were both moving away from Amycus. The Ravenclaws were talking over each other.

"I did not expect that from you, Parkinson, no I did not expect that from you!" Amycus was roaring, "You're going to be in detention until you take your NEWTs, Parkinson! Surely you should know the value of—"

"Piss off."

The whole class gasped. The words coming out of Pansy's bleeding mouth was so unexpected that even though they were low, Amycus trailed off and gasped for air. "What did you say to me?" he hissed.

"Pansy come here now," Draco hissed dangerously and he reached out to grab her arm to force her back to the table. She was getting out of control and he had to rectify the situation.

Everyone was staring at them. Crabbe's mouth was hanging open. Pansy pulled her arm out of Draco's grip but backed away to the Slytherins. "I said piss off, nobody hits me. I'm writing to my father about this."

Amycus' eyes looked like they were about to pop from their sockets. "How dare you speak to me like that? Apologise!"

Pansy just stood between Goyle and Draco, her arms crossed and said nothing.

"I thought you supported the Dark Lord. I THOUGHT YOU ALL WANTED TO JOIN HIM!" He looked around widely at all the Slytherins.

"It's not about that," boomed Millicent Bulstrode, "It's about you!"

The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were so shocked they didn't speak. They just stared.

"DETENTION, MISS BULSTRODE!" he roared, "I'm here on the Dark Lord's orders – if you're not prepared to do something as easy as putting the Crucio on a Mudblood, how will you get by when you're serving the Dark Lord?!"

Annoyed at Pansy for making him feel obligated to do this, he finally spoke up, calmly. "You're not the Dark Lord, Amycus. So stick to your teaching."

"You as well, Malfoy?"

Draco looked firmly back at him. He despised Amycus but he didn't want to do this. He'd been acting for so long and he'd just about managed a whole year, and now Pansy was ruining it. But he had to.

"Well, I'd trust you to wimp out," Amycus sneered. "Isn't that what you did last summer, when you were supposed to kill Albus Dumbledore?"

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaws gasped.

"Well, who cares about you anyway, you little prick, you're finished. As is your father."

Draco swallowed but he had to try to save his skin. "This has nothing to do with me or my father. I don't appreciate you assaulting the Head Girl and I'll definitely be speaking to Snape."

"DETENTION, MR MALFOY!" Amycus stumbled, seemingly breathless and red in the face. "Now, get out of here before I let you have a taste of the Cruciatus curse, all of you!"

Pansy hurried out of the classroom, and Draco was the quickest after her, the rest of the Slytherins darted towards the door before even the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had put their books back in their school bags. They hurried down the corridor, Draco thinking of nothing other than getting away from Amycus and the others, to tell Pansy to stop outing herself. He had to save this situation. He jogged down the stairs a feet behind her, with the other Slytherins on his heel.

He grabbed her arm when they'd finally reached the dungeon corridor, forcing her to turn around. He put his arms around her at once, momentarily not caring that he'd never been this affectionate with her in front of the others and that Nott was watching jealously. When he let go, Daphne Greengrass was there, and hugged Pansy in turn.

"Pansy, are you ok? He hit you!"

Her cheek was swollen and red and she looked furious. "No I'm not! I hate him!"

Draco stroked her hair, an arm still around her as the others joined them, but he was desperate to get her alone so he could talk to her – she had to keep it under control or she would get them both killed. He could not stand up for her another time in front of Amycus – it could jeopardise his and his parents' lives.

"You all right?" asked Goyle carefully.

But Pansy grabbed Draco's hand and started walking towards the common room entrance. It was quiet, charged, nobody dared speaking. She was walking quickly at the front with Draco by her side, and the other Slytherins hurrying along after.

And then she said it. Harshly and boldly honest. "I bloody hate all of this. I'm not up for it anymore."

Everyone stopped.

"What do you mean Pansy?" said Queenie Wilkes. Tracey Davis looked at Pansy with narrowed eyes, assessing the situation. Daphne just looked like she didn't fully understand.

"What are you talking about?" Crabbe said dangerously.

"Pansy—!" said Draco in an attempt to stop her. His heart was beating again, nervous, furious.

"You know bloody well what I'm talking about, Vince," snarled Pansy.

"No," said Crabbe threateningly, "You're not up for what exactly Pansy?" he had moved closer to her.

"Back off!" said Draco to Crabbe, "Stop talking to her."

But Crabbe ignored him and was still staring at Pansy. "You don't support the Dark Lord anymore is that it?"

"Vince," said Goyle quickly, "of course she does, but he hit her..." Pansy had opened her mouth looking mutinous.

"Ok that's enough now!" snapped Malfoy. "Pansy, let's go. Crabbe, leave her alone."

"No, I want to know what she meant!" shouted Crabbe so loudly that Greengrass jumped.

"So do I," said Tracey way more calmly.

"Let's go," said Draco shortly and grabbed Pansy's arm. Crabbe, in turn, grabbed Draco's arm, to stop him leaving.

"Don't touch me!" snarled Draco. "Are you thinking this through, Crabbe?"

Crabbe sent him a disgusted, murderous look but let go of Draco's arm.

"Good boy," muttered Draco, and Crabbe looked like he was about to strangle him. But Draco kept his chin high, sent one last cold look at Crabbe and marched through the opening in the stone wall into the common room. The others followed quickly. Tracey and Queenie sent each other puzzled looks.

The common room was dark today and filled with students. Self-preservation was the only thing in his mind, and he thought they just might get away with this if they just left now. However once they were inside, Crabbe shouted after them.

"I'm telling!"

Draco's blood went cold. He was absolutely terrified. He turned around to face Crabbe. A few of the other younger Slytherins sitting in the carved chairs turned around to look at them.

Draco came close to Crabbe. "I haven't said anything that could implicate myself."

"How very Slytherin of you," said Crabbe with a wry smile. "I'm still telling. Let's see who the Carrows believe, eh!"

"And what are you going to tell them? Hmm?" Draco moved even closer to him, threateningly, close to his face, almost whispering. "What are you going to say that Amycus hasn't already heard today? We disliked his teaching methods. We're sick of the Unforgivable curses. So what? That doesn't mean anything, do you hear me Crabbe? Now you can try and throw us under the bus for your own gain, but just know that I'm Draco Malfoy and I never get in trouble. Do you hear me? I can get out of anything. Can you say the same? I've got this on my arm, and you don't. So do your best."

Crabbe was staring at Draco's Dark Mark that he'd shoved in his face. He knew his threat was empty, but Crabbe was stupid enough to fall for it. This time. Crabbe started at him angrily but said nothing and then turned to Pansy.

"What you just did is sick, Parkinson. You wasted your pure blood by defending trash. Disgusting."

"Piss off," Crabbe finally said to Draco, and rushed off to the dormitory.

"Vince!" said Goyle and hurried after him.

Draco turned to the rest of them. Blaise, Nott, Daphne, Tracey, Queenie and Bulstrode. They all just stood looking at them. Perplexed.

"Now has anyone else got a problem?" said Draco loudly. Pansy shushed him.

"Draco there are first years in here..."

"I don't care. I'm Head Boy. Everyone out!" He ushered all the other Slytherins out, they tuted and complained loudly and shouted empty threats of going to the Head of House.

"Spoilsport!"

"I'm reporting you to old Sluggy, Malfoy," said sixth year Malcolm Baddock but did as he was told and left.

When they were alone, Zabini spoke up to everyone's surprise.

"I don't have a problem," he said with a haughty smile, "I never liked the Carrows anyway."

"No, he shouldn't treat you like that," said Greengrass quickly to Pansy. Draco was tempted to roll his eyes, Greengrass always agreed with dear Blaise.

"I've always thought it was wrong," said Davis in a chilly tone. "Not just when it affects a Pureblood."

"Well," said Pansy, surprising everyone by speaking up. "It didn't use to bother me, but... Maybe you're right, Tracey. I mean... Mudbloods are below us. I do think so. They pollute our blood. We should try and save the pure blood or there's not going to be any left. Magic could die out. But... they shouldn't be beaten or murdered. It's as simple as that."

"Pansy!" Draco exclaimed.

"Finally we can agree on something," said Blaise and rolled his eyes. Draco hid his face in his hands. Pansy needed to stop talking or she would get herself murdered.

"I agree," said Daphne with a surprisingly strong voice.

"Me too," said Queenie. Bulstrode nodded. The girls glanced at Tracey.

"Well," she said, "I wouldn't put it like that. But I suppose I'm ok with that."

Pansy smiled widely which felt bizarre for Draco, and turned to Nott, who was the only one who hadn't spoken.

Theodore blinked at her. Draco looked at him hesitantly.

He slowly shook his head. Then he said, "They don't deserve to live in our world."

"Maybe not but that doesn't mean they should be killed! Why can't they just go off and live in a Muggle community instead?" said Pansy.

Everyone looked uncomfortable at that. They'd never discussed anything like this before. Being in Slytherin had always meant you supported the Dark Lord more or less. Pansy wondered what everyone was thinking. She knew Blaise didn't like to associate himself with Bloodtraitors and Mudbloods but his views were still a lot milder than Crabbe's or Theodore's. She wondered if Theodore enjoyed the thought of killing Mudbloods like Crabbe did. It made her feel sick to think she'd kissed him if that was the case. But then again, Theodore was clever, so he probably knew better. He was probably just brought up worshipping the Dark Lord because of his father. Just like her Draco.

And Pansy wasn't much better after all, was she? She'd grown up listening to her parents, their friends and Draco. She'd grown up believing her blood was better and more special. Now she didn't know anymore. Terror, war, assault, murders, nightmares... it wasn't what she'd expected.

"Yeah, I believe that us Pureblood are better than Muggles and Mudbloods because – well, it's obvious isn't it – our blood is pure while theirs isn't! They aren't proper wizards and witches really are they? I mean, not like us. But that doesn't mean that I'd like to follow that some lunatic's orders! I don't like the Unforgivables, the torturing, the blood... It's not what I thought it would be."

"Be very careful," said Theodore, who looked as though he was trying to control his anger. "Of what you're saying right now."

"I actually agree with Nott," muttered Malfoy. "Pansy, leave it now. Ok? You've made your point. We can't be talking about this kind of thing. I'm serious."

Pansy looked defiantly at him. "After what just happened I don't care, Draco!"

"What exactly are you saying, Pansy?" asked Theodore warily. "There's a big difference between saying you don't like the Carrows anymore and saying you don't like the Dark Lord anymore. Which is it?"

Daphne, Tracey, Queenie and Millicent looked from Theodore to Pansy. Blaise's eyes were narrowed. Pansy looked doubtful.

"All I'm saying is that, maybe there's a better way to get your point across than torturing and killing people."

Tracey smiled. "I've been trying to tell you this for years, Pans. You-Know-Who isn't doing all of this for 'the greater good' or to help Pureblood supremacists. He's doing it for power. He's doing it for himself. That's it. There's a better way, a political way, to try and change the world and whatever you find wrong in it, without terror, torture and suppression!"

Pansy and Daphne looked like they didn't understand all of it fully, but Draco felt like he'd never respected Davis more.

"Either way, I'm going to bed," Draco said at present.

"Malfoy, surely you can't let them say things like this about our master?" said Theodore.

"Let them? What do you expect me to do – give them detention?"

"Yes!" said Theodore defiantly. "This is in the realm of blood treachery. Don't you always say you're Head Boy and can do whatever you want?"

"I don't," said Draco rolling his eyes. "And if you've forgotten, Pansy's Head Girl. And my girlfriend. I'm not exactly about to give her detention for saying she doesn't support the torture of underage students."

It was Theodore's turn to roll his eyes. "Forget it. I'm going to bed. You go on bashing the establishment."

"Nobody wants you here anyway," retorted Draco quickly as Theodore was walking towards the stairs leading down to the dormitories.

"Mature," said Zabini sarcastically and made his way to follow Theodore.

"Oh, go and shag Nott if you're going to defend him like you're his boyfriend," snarled Draco at him. But they were both gone.

"I happen to think Tracey has a point," said Queenie. Draco made sure not to implicate himself, so he said nothing. If Pansy wanted to out herself she could do it. But he was not going down with her. He didn't trust the girls. He only told Pansy two days ago so he wasn't about to tell the rest of them.

"Enough talking about this, it can get you into trouble," he said warningly.

"So we have to decide what side to be loyal to," said Tracey, to Draco's great annoyance. He didn't enjoy being ignored.

Pansy looked unsure. "No, I think it's already been chosen for us, because the thing is... We're in Slytherin."

Greengrass, Wilkes, Davis and Bulstrode frowned at her.

"There's no turning back now. Slytherin's not just a house. It's a lifestyle, and a choice. We've already chosen sides."

"So what do we do?" asked Daphne.

"You do nothing!" said Draco. "Pansy, I'm going to bed, are you coming or not?"

"Rude," Pansy muttered but she came along with him.

He briefly wondered whether there was a spell that could prohibit Pansy from speaking about certain things, and made a mental note to look through his spell book tomorrow.

They were both hiding under a cause that they now were sure they didn't believe in anymore, but it was better than dying themselves.

If only Pansy could keep her mouth shut.