Disclaimer: Much as I'd like to, I don't own Draco Malfoy, or any part of the magical world that J.K. Rowling has all the copyrights to ... please don't sue me. There are some parts of this story that are quotes from the book - it can't be helped - events are the same as in the book, but Draco's opinion of these events may vary from Harry's.
Author's Notes: I needed to do some re-writing, after reading OotP. I have made some minor changes to this chapter, mostly spelling and grammar.
dstrbd child: hmmm ... torturing teachers would be fun ... so would more revenge ... but I don't think there'll be any for a while. Sorry. Maybe in GoF.
AlL rOaDs LeAd To HeLl: Not all the Death Eaters know who told Voldemort the secret ... why would they? What if one of them was a spy, and told the good-guys who was spying on them? Like Severus, for example. All the surviving ex-Death Eaters think that Black is guilty, why do you think reports of Black's whereabouts take so long to get processed?
slytherin-punk-rocker311: I may come up with more info about the Malfoys, and Severus ... but not in PoA ... possibly GoF, probably OotP.
dragonsprincess: He was just having a good day. I haven't started GoF yet ... I'm about to start it soon.
Bob: Oh, you were affected by the blackout? And I am not going to write an OotP-friendly version of ATHSS ... in fact, I'm concidering deleting it altogether.
I had to think about where Draco got this brilliant scheme from, so I decided he'd just think of it on the spot to get Flint to leave him alone - not that the leave-him-alone part of the plan works.
Chapter 7 - Quidditch Politics
That evening, before the Library closed, I made my way up to get these three books. Madam Pince seemed very intent on proving McGonagall's signature to be a forgery, but when she failed she grudgingly gave me the appropriate book, along with telling me where to find the other two on the list.
When looking for the last of the three, I found Hermione looking up another Animagus-related text. On looking over her shoulder I discovered it was the Animagus register.
"What are you looking up that for?" I asked.
"Extra credit." she replied turning to face me, "I'm doing my essay on Animagi from Tuesday ... I should have started it Yesterday, but I've been getting really behind, already."
"You look exhausted." I noted.
"I am." she replied.
"How many subjects are you taking this year?" I asked.
"A lot."
"How many?"
"All of them."
"How are you managing that? Night classes?" I asked.
"Not exactly."
"You are being evasive, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I won't pry ... I'll just find out the traditional Slytherin way."
"You're planning to spy on me?"
"No - beat the information out of Weasley." I answered grinning.
"He doesn't know."
"Who does?"
"McGonagall and me."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"Damn ... can't very well beat any information out of her." I joked.
Hermione smirked, "I cannot believe you just said that."
"Especially when she's starting to see hope for my education."
"What do you mean?"
"She's letting me do some extra-credit work on that subject too." I said, holding up the two books I had obtained, "Now do you know where I can find 'Animal Spirit Meanings' by Kestra Aviona?"
"Over there - I was looking at it earlier." she answered pointing to a book that was sitting out on a desk. Pince would not have been happy if she'd found that sitting there.
"Thanks." I replied, collecting the book.
"So why are you reading up on Animagi, Malfoy?" Hermione asked folding her arms across her chest in a questioning manner that was reminiscent of an angry teacher.
"I'm interested in becoming one." I said honestly.
"Oh - what do you think you'd be?" she asked, now totally interested.
"I don't know. I never thought about it ... maybe some sort of feral cat or dog ... definitely not a tame animal, that's for sure."
"Definitely not." Hermione replied, watching me carefully, "I think some sort of rodent ... a stoat or a weasel."
"I resent being compared to those red-heads!" I snapped.
"Whatever." she replied grinning - she enjoyed baiting me - this was getting even more fun.
I walked back over to her and asked, "So what is your project?"
"I'm researching Animagi through history - the Animagus Register says there's only been seven this century." she explained, showing me the record she had been reading.
"I'd at least triple that figure if I were you." I said with a smirk.
"Why?"
"How many of those are Slytherins?" I asked, pointing to the list.
"None."
"My point exactly."
"Oh." she stared at the page for a minute before adding, "Would you be registered if you learned it?"
"No way, no how." I said, "What's the point of being able to disguise yourself as an animal, if everyone knows what your animal form looks like?"
She considered this for a minute, "I see your point ... but it's illegal -"
"Hence the title: 'Illegal Animagus' ... there must be loads of them around."
"Do you follow any rules?" she asked suddenly.
"The ones I make myself ... as far as the rest go - 'for every rule there is a loophole'." I replied grinning.
"I think you deliberately try to confuse me." she said. I nodded. "Why?"
"Because your mind only works on one level - it's too easy for me to confuse you - you're very intelligent, but you can't see past Gryffindor morality."
"I wish I could understand you, Malfoy." she said, sighing. She then shook her head and turned back to her reading - it seemed obvious that the conversation was over. I left her alone.
* * *
That Saturday, Flint woke me up by blowing up my pillow. In the midst of all the feathers, I sat up glaring at the offending sadist.
"Quidditch practice, Malfoy."
"Can't." I said holding up my arm, which was still in a sling.
"You will attend Quidditch practice and you will fly, and you will catch the Snitch, or you will be kicked painfully off the team. Do I make myself clear?" Flint all-but-yelled.
"Crystal." I replied acidly, "Now let me make myself clear: I have a medical excuse. We can use this to our advantage. Are you telling me you really want to play in November conditions, against our main rivals? If we can switch with Hufflepuff, our first game would be the Ravens' match in January, instead of the Lions' match in November, and we can play the Lions in May."
"You've thought this one through, haven't you?" Flint asked.
"No. It came to me in my dreams." I said snidely.
"Yeah, well, whatever - it's a good plan ... and let's not mention it till the day before the match." Flint added with a grin.
"That's a good idea." I said, smirking.
"But you're still coming to practice, and you're still going to fly. Learn to fly single handed if you must, but get up now." and with that, he dragged me out of bed by the collar of my shirt, and shoved me in the general direction of my bedside cabinet, where I kept my clothes.
He then left, and I got changed, noticing that Theo had pretended to sleep through the debate - he's too light a sleeper to have really slept through it, so he must have heard every word.
* * *
And sure enough, when I got to the Quidditch practice, I was forced to fly single-handed ... I couldn't very well let them know my arm was fine, now could I. Of course, I was in no fit state to catch any Snitches, so Flint reluctantly didn't make me fall off my broom trying. The only way I could ever catch anything flying with my arm bound up like this would be to do an impersonation of Potter in his first match ... I wasn't going to degrade myself to that level. I still wasn't immune to the Bludgers, though ... luckily I was able to dodge all of Bole and Derrick's assassination attempts on me ... that was a joke, about the assassination bit, by the way - again making reference to my first year.
"Well done, Draco." a voice said behind me as I landed - a very familiar voice that I had not expected to find here again. I turned to see my father watching me.
"Thank you." I said, smiling.
"I hadn't expected you to be out here. I came to see exactly how much damage your injury had caused, and I was told you were at Quidditch practice." he replied.
Flint was just landing a short distance away, at the moment I told my father, "Flint said he'd kick me off the team if I didn't attend practice. I had to fly single-handed, and Flint kept trying to get me to do all sorts of complicated manoeuvres that I'd only ever done with both hands, before."
Father wasn't pleased with this - he turned on Flint and yelled in a way that must have made Flint wish the ground would open up and swallow him. Flint looked very apologetic, but wasn't allowed time to voice these apologies because he couldn't get a word in edgeways. Eventually, Father told him to 'get out of my sight before I hex you, you rotten little sod!'.
I was just containing my laughter as Father turned back to me and escorted me up to the school and the Hospital Wing. "Thank you." I said, smiling.
"Don't mention it. If that git ever bothers you, unjustly, I'd be glad to give him another yelling-at." Father replied. Apparently yelling at people is his idea of a good time, because he was in an exceptionally good mood all afternoon, as he watched Madam Pomfrey check me. I continued to fake pain and immobility in my arm, and she continued to believe I was telling the truth. Father, however, was more observant and attuned to lies, "You're faking it." he said, simply, as soon as Madam Pomfrey was out of earshot.
"It was bad for three days, then it got better. I figured I could get away with messing up the Gryffindors' Quidditch schedule from this." I replied honestly.
"How so?" he asked, seeming more intrigued by my plan than angry at me.
I re-told my plan to him, and he listened intently, "So that way we play a weaker team in the bad conditions, and have more time to prepare for the stronger opponents ... and we'll catch the Gryffindors off-guard with the schedule-change, so they don't have time to prepare for the Hufflepuff match - if they lose to Hufflepuff, we're almost certain to win." I finished.
"Interesting tactic. The surprising thing seems to be that Flint is trying something you suggested." Father said with a smirk that meant I was plotting something very bad, very well, and he liked it.
I enjoyed spending the next half hour discussing the Hippogriff problem with my father, who was planning on working to have Hagrid fired and the creature executed - he knows this man in the disposal of dangerous creatures department who can help arrange this. I then told him what I'd heard about Black, and he told me everything he knew about the man, including the fact that he had never once seen him at any Death Eater meetings ... not once, and I know Father was a high-ranking member in that organisation - he didn't know all the others, but he did know that Black had never been seen by anyone he did know there. That was odd. Of course, it didn't stop him from being lazy when it came to filing reports of where Muggles have sighted the escapee - Father assumes that some of the spies were kept secret, even from important members like himself - he had, at the time, had no idea where the Dark Lord had obtained the Secret of the Potters' location from.
He also told me that Black had been good friends with Potter Sr., and that the two of them were the worst trouble-makers of their time ... I wonder how they compare to the Weasley twins ... or Theo's spree of anti-Defence-Against-the-Dark-Arts-teacher pranks ... which reminds me - Theo hasn't started on Lupin, yet, and I don't intend to.
* * *
End of chapter 7
Author's Notes: I needed to do some re-writing, after reading OotP. I have made some minor changes to this chapter, mostly spelling and grammar.
dstrbd child: hmmm ... torturing teachers would be fun ... so would more revenge ... but I don't think there'll be any for a while. Sorry. Maybe in GoF.
AlL rOaDs LeAd To HeLl: Not all the Death Eaters know who told Voldemort the secret ... why would they? What if one of them was a spy, and told the good-guys who was spying on them? Like Severus, for example. All the surviving ex-Death Eaters think that Black is guilty, why do you think reports of Black's whereabouts take so long to get processed?
slytherin-punk-rocker311: I may come up with more info about the Malfoys, and Severus ... but not in PoA ... possibly GoF, probably OotP.
dragonsprincess: He was just having a good day. I haven't started GoF yet ... I'm about to start it soon.
Bob: Oh, you were affected by the blackout? And I am not going to write an OotP-friendly version of ATHSS ... in fact, I'm concidering deleting it altogether.
I had to think about where Draco got this brilliant scheme from, so I decided he'd just think of it on the spot to get Flint to leave him alone - not that the leave-him-alone part of the plan works.
Chapter 7 - Quidditch Politics
That evening, before the Library closed, I made my way up to get these three books. Madam Pince seemed very intent on proving McGonagall's signature to be a forgery, but when she failed she grudgingly gave me the appropriate book, along with telling me where to find the other two on the list.
When looking for the last of the three, I found Hermione looking up another Animagus-related text. On looking over her shoulder I discovered it was the Animagus register.
"What are you looking up that for?" I asked.
"Extra credit." she replied turning to face me, "I'm doing my essay on Animagi from Tuesday ... I should have started it Yesterday, but I've been getting really behind, already."
"You look exhausted." I noted.
"I am." she replied.
"How many subjects are you taking this year?" I asked.
"A lot."
"How many?"
"All of them."
"How are you managing that? Night classes?" I asked.
"Not exactly."
"You are being evasive, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I won't pry ... I'll just find out the traditional Slytherin way."
"You're planning to spy on me?"
"No - beat the information out of Weasley." I answered grinning.
"He doesn't know."
"Who does?"
"McGonagall and me."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"Damn ... can't very well beat any information out of her." I joked.
Hermione smirked, "I cannot believe you just said that."
"Especially when she's starting to see hope for my education."
"What do you mean?"
"She's letting me do some extra-credit work on that subject too." I said, holding up the two books I had obtained, "Now do you know where I can find 'Animal Spirit Meanings' by Kestra Aviona?"
"Over there - I was looking at it earlier." she answered pointing to a book that was sitting out on a desk. Pince would not have been happy if she'd found that sitting there.
"Thanks." I replied, collecting the book.
"So why are you reading up on Animagi, Malfoy?" Hermione asked folding her arms across her chest in a questioning manner that was reminiscent of an angry teacher.
"I'm interested in becoming one." I said honestly.
"Oh - what do you think you'd be?" she asked, now totally interested.
"I don't know. I never thought about it ... maybe some sort of feral cat or dog ... definitely not a tame animal, that's for sure."
"Definitely not." Hermione replied, watching me carefully, "I think some sort of rodent ... a stoat or a weasel."
"I resent being compared to those red-heads!" I snapped.
"Whatever." she replied grinning - she enjoyed baiting me - this was getting even more fun.
I walked back over to her and asked, "So what is your project?"
"I'm researching Animagi through history - the Animagus Register says there's only been seven this century." she explained, showing me the record she had been reading.
"I'd at least triple that figure if I were you." I said with a smirk.
"Why?"
"How many of those are Slytherins?" I asked, pointing to the list.
"None."
"My point exactly."
"Oh." she stared at the page for a minute before adding, "Would you be registered if you learned it?"
"No way, no how." I said, "What's the point of being able to disguise yourself as an animal, if everyone knows what your animal form looks like?"
She considered this for a minute, "I see your point ... but it's illegal -"
"Hence the title: 'Illegal Animagus' ... there must be loads of them around."
"Do you follow any rules?" she asked suddenly.
"The ones I make myself ... as far as the rest go - 'for every rule there is a loophole'." I replied grinning.
"I think you deliberately try to confuse me." she said. I nodded. "Why?"
"Because your mind only works on one level - it's too easy for me to confuse you - you're very intelligent, but you can't see past Gryffindor morality."
"I wish I could understand you, Malfoy." she said, sighing. She then shook her head and turned back to her reading - it seemed obvious that the conversation was over. I left her alone.
* * *
That Saturday, Flint woke me up by blowing up my pillow. In the midst of all the feathers, I sat up glaring at the offending sadist.
"Quidditch practice, Malfoy."
"Can't." I said holding up my arm, which was still in a sling.
"You will attend Quidditch practice and you will fly, and you will catch the Snitch, or you will be kicked painfully off the team. Do I make myself clear?" Flint all-but-yelled.
"Crystal." I replied acidly, "Now let me make myself clear: I have a medical excuse. We can use this to our advantage. Are you telling me you really want to play in November conditions, against our main rivals? If we can switch with Hufflepuff, our first game would be the Ravens' match in January, instead of the Lions' match in November, and we can play the Lions in May."
"You've thought this one through, haven't you?" Flint asked.
"No. It came to me in my dreams." I said snidely.
"Yeah, well, whatever - it's a good plan ... and let's not mention it till the day before the match." Flint added with a grin.
"That's a good idea." I said, smirking.
"But you're still coming to practice, and you're still going to fly. Learn to fly single handed if you must, but get up now." and with that, he dragged me out of bed by the collar of my shirt, and shoved me in the general direction of my bedside cabinet, where I kept my clothes.
He then left, and I got changed, noticing that Theo had pretended to sleep through the debate - he's too light a sleeper to have really slept through it, so he must have heard every word.
* * *
And sure enough, when I got to the Quidditch practice, I was forced to fly single-handed ... I couldn't very well let them know my arm was fine, now could I. Of course, I was in no fit state to catch any Snitches, so Flint reluctantly didn't make me fall off my broom trying. The only way I could ever catch anything flying with my arm bound up like this would be to do an impersonation of Potter in his first match ... I wasn't going to degrade myself to that level. I still wasn't immune to the Bludgers, though ... luckily I was able to dodge all of Bole and Derrick's assassination attempts on me ... that was a joke, about the assassination bit, by the way - again making reference to my first year.
"Well done, Draco." a voice said behind me as I landed - a very familiar voice that I had not expected to find here again. I turned to see my father watching me.
"Thank you." I said, smiling.
"I hadn't expected you to be out here. I came to see exactly how much damage your injury had caused, and I was told you were at Quidditch practice." he replied.
Flint was just landing a short distance away, at the moment I told my father, "Flint said he'd kick me off the team if I didn't attend practice. I had to fly single-handed, and Flint kept trying to get me to do all sorts of complicated manoeuvres that I'd only ever done with both hands, before."
Father wasn't pleased with this - he turned on Flint and yelled in a way that must have made Flint wish the ground would open up and swallow him. Flint looked very apologetic, but wasn't allowed time to voice these apologies because he couldn't get a word in edgeways. Eventually, Father told him to 'get out of my sight before I hex you, you rotten little sod!'.
I was just containing my laughter as Father turned back to me and escorted me up to the school and the Hospital Wing. "Thank you." I said, smiling.
"Don't mention it. If that git ever bothers you, unjustly, I'd be glad to give him another yelling-at." Father replied. Apparently yelling at people is his idea of a good time, because he was in an exceptionally good mood all afternoon, as he watched Madam Pomfrey check me. I continued to fake pain and immobility in my arm, and she continued to believe I was telling the truth. Father, however, was more observant and attuned to lies, "You're faking it." he said, simply, as soon as Madam Pomfrey was out of earshot.
"It was bad for three days, then it got better. I figured I could get away with messing up the Gryffindors' Quidditch schedule from this." I replied honestly.
"How so?" he asked, seeming more intrigued by my plan than angry at me.
I re-told my plan to him, and he listened intently, "So that way we play a weaker team in the bad conditions, and have more time to prepare for the stronger opponents ... and we'll catch the Gryffindors off-guard with the schedule-change, so they don't have time to prepare for the Hufflepuff match - if they lose to Hufflepuff, we're almost certain to win." I finished.
"Interesting tactic. The surprising thing seems to be that Flint is trying something you suggested." Father said with a smirk that meant I was plotting something very bad, very well, and he liked it.
I enjoyed spending the next half hour discussing the Hippogriff problem with my father, who was planning on working to have Hagrid fired and the creature executed - he knows this man in the disposal of dangerous creatures department who can help arrange this. I then told him what I'd heard about Black, and he told me everything he knew about the man, including the fact that he had never once seen him at any Death Eater meetings ... not once, and I know Father was a high-ranking member in that organisation - he didn't know all the others, but he did know that Black had never been seen by anyone he did know there. That was odd. Of course, it didn't stop him from being lazy when it came to filing reports of where Muggles have sighted the escapee - Father assumes that some of the spies were kept secret, even from important members like himself - he had, at the time, had no idea where the Dark Lord had obtained the Secret of the Potters' location from.
He also told me that Black had been good friends with Potter Sr., and that the two of them were the worst trouble-makers of their time ... I wonder how they compare to the Weasley twins ... or Theo's spree of anti-Defence-Against-the-Dark-Arts-teacher pranks ... which reminds me - Theo hasn't started on Lupin, yet, and I don't intend to.
* * *
End of chapter 7