Disclaimer – JKR owns the world and all the characters from the books. I'm just building a few castles in her sandbox.

Chapter 16

Malcolm was sitting alone on 'their' couch when his friends returned from dinner. He seemed a little pale, which wasn't too unexpected. After all, they'd seen Madam Pomfrey hand a note to Professor McGonagall before transfiguration, and she didn't even ask where he was after the bell rang. The boys reported he was laid out on his bed when they went to dinner.

Dinner conversation was quiet. A few of the second years next to them speculated about the Halloween Feast. For some reason, Draco Malfoy decided that this was a good day to demand that Annalise sit with the third year students. This time, she didn't even acknowledge his presence as the pale-haired third year student slowly turned redder and redder. Finally, he growled something under his breath and stomped off. Tobey made out just a couple of the words, but they were enough to make his eyes widen, and Perren had to grab his arm to make him stay in his seat.

The stocky boy was still grumbling about this when they returned to the common room. "Wish you'd been at dinner, Mal. Draco's being a git again," he whispered as he leaned forward.

Malcolm frowned as he rose to his feet. "I need to talk to you guys about something. Come on." He led them toward the boy's dormitories. A few people in the common room whispered as they all left together.

Once they were in the first-year's room, Malcolm sat on his bed, absently stroking Brimstone as he gathered his thoughts. The boys sat on the edges of their beds as the girls perched on one of the empty ones.

"Professor Flitwick," he began, "kept me after class today because he had an idea of why I was having so much trouble with my spell casting. Turns out my, er, magical core is unstable. If I'm upset or excited, the flow of magic reverses and the spell fails."

"Well, that's good news, isn't it?" Patricia asked brightly, looking relieved. Malcolm was surprised that she'd been so concerned with his problem. "That means if you stay calm your magic should work, right?"

Perren and Tobey looked at him, curious about the answer. Annalise, on the other hand was staring at him with wide eyes. She seemed to have gone even paler than usual.

"Yes," Malcolm said slowly. "learning to stay calm and centered should give me a way to perform magic adequately. But the condition is getting worse, and will eventually prove, er, fatal."

He was obviously just reacting to the tension in the room, but Malcolm was surprised to feel Brimstone go rigid under his hands.

"You're having us on, right?" Tobey asked in a sick voice.

"Oh Malcolm," was all Patricia said.

"They- Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, they, they are going to do something, right mate?" Perren asked in a stammering voice.

Annalise didn't say a word. She just stared at him. He thought her shoulders shook slightly under her heavy robe, but he couldn't be sure.

His tongue felt thick in his mouth as he spoke again. "There really isn't anything they can do about it. It's a pretty rare condition, but they think I might have a couple of years before, er, it, happens."

The next he knew Patricia was on her feet and standing next to his bed. He stiffened slightly as she leaned over and hugged him fiercely. He awkwardly patted her back, but he could feel her breath hitching wretchedly as she struggled not to cry. A hand gripped his shoulder and he looked up to see Perren standing beside her, frowning worriedly. He turned as he felt Tobey sit down next to him. The blond-haired boy was frowning, his hands fidgeting in his lap. Finally, he reached out and scratched Brimstone behind the ears. The puppy leaned his head back into the boy's fingers, then turned and licked the edge of his hand.

Annalise, on the other hand, was standing beside her bed, a look of pure fury in her eyes. In spite of himself, Malcolm flinched back when he met her eyes. He couldn't recall ever seeing anyone so furious in his life. In a flash, her wand was in her hand.

"Anna, what are you-" he started to ask in a choked voice.

"Silence!" she snapped. "Wands out, all of you! I want a wizard's oath from each of you, right now!"

Patricia flinched and let go of Malcolm. "Annalise, why?" The tall girl was regaining some of her composure, but she was still taken aback by her friend's reaction.

"Each of you will swear not to repeat what he just told you, or I will see if I can successfully perform a memory charm without erasing your minds!" she snapped.

"Anna," Malcolm said, having finally recovered. She wouldn't look him directly in the eye. "What do the rest of us not know?"

"You will all swear the oath, because I don't want there to be any chance of this getting to Malfoy. He knows, Malcolm, that you reported him. I received an owl from his father yesterday, warning me to stay away from you. He doesn't want to risk that clumsy fool of a son accidentally hurting me and starting a feud with my family." She smirked bitterly as she pointed her wand upward. "I solemnly swear on my magic, not to reveal what I was just told, until Malcolm releases me from my vow."

One by one, each of his friends raised their wands and repeated the vow.

"There," Annalise said, sliding her wand back into her robes. "that should make it a little harder for someone to extract that information from us. Aside from accidental slips," she added, glaring at Perren, "it may provide some minor protection against magical means of interrogation."

Perren just stared at her. "I don't want to know how you know that, Dolohov."

"Do grow up, Hawkshorn," she replied with a sneer. "We're not in primary school anymore."

"Malcolm," Patricia interjected as Perren opened his mouth, "what are you going to do now? Are you going home to your family?"

Malcolm could feel everyone's eyes shift towards him. "Er, no. I'm going to stay here at Hogwarts."

She stared at him, clearly surprised. He felt a stab of guilt. Here they were, swearing wizarding oaths to keep his secrets, and he wasn't even being honest with them. "Well, my parents are both dead, and I don't know any of my other relatives. It's kind of a long story, but I don't have anywhere else to go really."

In a halting voice, he gave a rough outline of how he came to be at Hogwarts. The only detail he omitted was the secret of the name his father took to his grave.

"So you don't really know who your mother was?" Perren asked incredulously.

Malcolm shrugged. "I know her name was Catherine, but she died in childbirth. Father didn't like to talk about it."

"Well, we know she was a pureblood, as was your father," Annalise said thoughtfully.

"How do you…" Tobey began, but trailed off as she gave him a long-suffering look. "Nevermind, forgot where we're sitting."

"The hat suggested as much," Malcolm admitted.

"So," Patricia said in a speculative tone, "what are you planning to do?"

Malcolm shrugged again. "Keep taking classes and see what happens. Hogwarts beats most of my other options. Annoying Malfoy might even be entertaining if Annalise's information is correct. I do want to get Brimstone used to at least one of you feeding him. That way, if I… well, would one of you be willing to see to him?"

His friends all looked at each other as the implications of his question sunk in. He was making plans for what would happen after he died, and it was difficult for them, for a variety of reasons, to easily wrap their minds around that. Finally, Tobey cleared his throat. "Uh, mate, I think we'd all be willing to take care of the little bugger, provided he doesn't try to set us on fire."

Malcolm took a deep breath. "Thanks."

Scene Break

Malcolm felt a little odd as he returned to class the next day. He was a long time getting to sleep last night, and probably not just because of the nap he'd taken during the afternoon. They didn't speak, but he was pretty sure Perren and Tobey had been up a while as well. He'd skipped a couple of meals, so he tore into his breakfast, wondering why the food tasted so good to him. He realized after a while that it was probably because he was thinking about dying in the back of his mind.

He smiled a little grimly as he chewed on his bacon. I suppose I'm not going to get to enjoy as many breakfasts as I thought I was, so I should make each one count. He started to chuckle but the sound died as he looked over at Perren and Tobey. Instead he started to feel queasy.

Both boys were subdued, eyes red like they hadn't slept. Patricia was quiet as well, and he heard her sniff once. He started to wonder if it was a mistake to tell them. Only Annalise wasn't acting funny. She ate with her normal degree of regal disdain, for which he was grateful.

"We've got Herbology next today, right?" Malcolm finally asked. He knew very well what class they had, but he was desperate to divert their attention. Patricia started to say something, but just nodded.

"That is correct, Mr. Smith," Annalise finally said, her lip curling in annoyance.

"Good. Do you suppose I can borrow your Transfiguration notes from yesterday?"

She looked sidelong at him, and then nodded. "Yes, but you'll need her," she nodded at Patricia, "for Binns' class. She is the only one of us who can stay awake long enough to take notes."

Perren snorted in spite of himself. "Too true," he said, smirking.

Patricia turned toward him with a glare and one of their frequent arguments started. Tobey soon joined in, taking shots at either side as the opportunity presented itself.

Malcolm felt the knot in his stomach slowly unravel. "Thanks," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Annalise didn't say anything, but he thought she might have nodded slightly.

The air seemed particularly crisp that morning as they trudged out to the greenhouses. Professor Sprout had the class planting cuttings from last year's crop of Mandrake roots. Fortunately, the cuttings didn't have mouths with which to scream, so ear protection was not required.

Working together, they got through their stack quickly. Malcolm looked around after they were done, and saw that the boy and girl at the next table were still having trouble scraping holes in the dried out potting soil. He picked up the watering can off their table and walked over to the struggling Hufflepuffs.

"If you pour a little water in first, it's a lot easier for the trowel," he said quietly.

The blond-haired girl and the black-haired boy jumped and looked up at him. For a second they seemed almost afraid of him. The boy looked hesitantly from the girl to the watering can and back. Malcolm shrugged and stepped back. I see our house reputation has struck again, he thought sourly.

"Er, sorry," the boy said at last. "I didn't think to try that." He picked up the can and poured some water over their current pot. The girl made an exasperated sound as the trowel finally started to dig in.

"Professor Sprout!" A voice called out from behind them. Malcolm looked over and saw one of the twin dark-haired boys who'd knocked Annalise out of their boat raising his hand.

"Yes, Marius?" Professor Sprout asked, bustling over from the other side of the greenhouse, where she was showing another group how the cuttings were processed.

"Anthony and Margaret are cheating. Those Slytherins showed them how!"

Malcolm felt his jaw drop as he spun toward the twins. The girl with the watering can made a huffing sound. Malcolm felt his face heat up, but Tobey looked around like he wanted something to throw at the two.

"Malcolm just suggested we wet the soil down a bit to make it easier to dig into," the blond-haired boy said.

"Professor told us to water it after we planted the cuttings!" Marius insisted in a stubborn tone.

"Now boys," Professor Sprout interrupted. "Let me see that pot." She took a pinch of soil between her fingers. "Yes, yes, it has dried out. Moistening it up a bit, prior to spading is acceptable, as long as you don't water it as much afterward." She looked back and forth between the students before her, the twins, and Malcolm's friends who were gathered back around their table, muttering darkly. She thought for a moment and nodded sharply. "Two points to Slytherin for a helpful suggestion." As the twins let out a gasp, she turned toward them. "I suggest you mind your own pots, Misters Benchley, there is not that much time left in the period."

Malcolm almost laughed out loud at the gob-smacked look on Tobey's face.

As the class ended and they trooped down to the Great Hall for lunch, Tobey was still pretty quiet. Finally, as they started eating, he had to ask.

"Why were you helping those 'puffs, Malcolm?"

Malcolm shrugged. "Didn't cost me anything to make a suggestion. Maybe they will have a chance to do me a good turn some day. I think sometimes that we focus too much on the houses. Just because they aren't in our house doesn't make them less than human or something."

"I'm not so sure the Benchley twins would agree," Perren chuckled.

"True," Malcolm allowed reasonably, "but then again we do have a reputation to overcome."

"You're serious about this, aren't you Malcolm?" Patricia asked.

"Yeah, I am." He sat for a minute collecting his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Annalise had stopped eating and was looking at him expectantly. "It's been less than two months and I'm already tired of being one of the pariahs of Hogwarts. I'm not going to go along with acting like a prat because of the color of the crest on my robe." He leaned forward and spoke a little quieter. "Besides, it'll confuse the hell out of everyone and annoy certain upperclassmen we don't like."

Perren and Tobey looked at each other. "That's good enough for me," the said simultaneously. Patricia just smiled and even Annalise curled her lips into what was almost a smirk.

Scene Break

Over the next couple of days, they began to look for opportunities to break the mold. In potions, when one of the first year Gryffindors was out sick, Malcolm left his friends to work with the girl who was left without a partner. Since there were an odd number of Slytherins, Professor Snape always allowed them to work with three people at one cauldron. It wasn't until well into the quarter that Malcolm learned, to his disgust, that the potions master didn't allow any students outside his house to do that.

The dark-haired girl looked up, her dark eyes wide, as Malcolm set his bag down on the bench next to her as professor Snape walked in. He glared down as Malcolm pulled out his textbook and his scales. "Mind if I work with you today?" he asked quietly. I'd at least get to see the cauldron for once." He and Tobey usually shared a cauldron with Annalise, and she had absolutely zero confidence in their ability to add ingredients and stir with the proper precision. The fact that Patricia didn't allow Perren to do any more than chop and prepare their ingredients didn't make it any better.

The girl's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but since they were working in pairs on this assignment, there was no way he could sabotage her potion without hurting his own grade. She nodded curtly and he set to work copying down the ingredients on a scrap of parchment. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Professor Snape staring at him from his desk. Evidently, the man couldn't come up with a valid pretext for making him move, because he kept silent as they worked. As Malcolm went to the storage cabinets to retrieve some viper gall, he also noticed the Gryffindors eyeing him cautiously. It amused him how one simple act of his had two-thirds of the room on pins and needles.

The potion wasn't that difficult to brew, a simple salve used to treat sore muscles and mild abrasions. As it cooled and gelled, he and his partner each filled a vial and labeled it for grading. As they began cleaning the bench, the girl finally introduced herself.

"I'm Romilda Vane," she said quietly.

"Malcolm Smith," he replied.

"I – I wouldn't have fancied trying to brew this one by myself today," she stammered.

"Sometimes a little change is a good thing," Malcolm said, shrugging it off as no big deal. Instead of immediately trying to banish the contents of their cauldron, as the others were doing, he ladled a good portion of the brew into a flask he pulled from his bag. Romilda raised her eyebrows at this but didn't comment.

"This sounds like a useful thing to keep on hand," he whispered.

As they finished tidying up, Professor Snape cleared his throat and the students began making their way to the front of the room to turn in their work for grading. He and his partner placed their vials on the rack at the edge of his desk. No sooner had they turned than there was a crash of glass on the floor behind them.

Everyone was looking at the front of the classroom where Professor Snape had a disgusted sneer on his face. "Miss Vane, you would do well to exercise some care in how you place the vials with your assignments on the rack. That is, if you don't wish to waste your time and effort on receiving a zero."

It took all of Malcolm's self control to keep his face impassive as Romilda's face went red and she began blinking rapidly. The bastard finally figured out a way around him to penalize the Gryffindor. Several of Romilda's housemates were visibly upset, some glaring daggers at Malcolm, one of them saying something under his breath that gave Snape pretext to dock another five points from Gryffindor.

Malcolm started to get angry, but then smirked. He tapped the frustrated girl on the shoulder and motioned toward their workbench. As the angry students began clearing out, he poured some of the cooling salve into another vial for her to label. "Don't let on that I saved some," he whispered to her as they worked, their robes blocking Snape from seeing what they were doing, "If he asks, just let on like the older students warned you Gryffindor potion assignments tended to have a lot of accidents."

She looked at him curiously, but just nodded. Several of her classmates started grinned when they saw her with another vial. Malcolm made sure he was out of the room before Mount Snape erupted.

At lunch, Tobey and Perren had a good chuckle over the look on Professor Snape's face. Even Patricia looked impressed. Malcolm hadn't done a single thing he could be punished for; if the potions teacher complained, he wouldn't find many sympathetic ears among the rest of the school staff.

At their first flying lesson, Madam Hooch spent most of the time watching the Slytherin students. He supposed she was justified in some paranoia, given what he knew about their predecessors. She also spent a lot of time going over the basics, which Malcolm didn't mind. His friends, of course, were all familiar with broom riding. As he looked down at the broom at his feet, he felt a bubbling excitement at actually being able to fly. As a result, the ruddy thing didn't even twitch when he called out "Up!".

Malcolm let out a disgusted sigh and tried to force down his emotions. When he felt calm again, he reached out over the broomstick and called out "Up!". This time the broom fairly leapt off the ground, slapping into his palm. He looked around at the rest of the class, wondering if anyone had noticed his broom's odd behavior. He needn't have worried. Many of them appeared to be muggle-born and had difficulties getting their broom to move at all.

Most of his friends looked bored, but they stuck with Madam Hooch's lesson plan, first idling a few feet above the ground, then following her in a big line as she led them slowly around the school grounds. Malcolm noticed her glancing at the Slytherin students from time to time, her eyebrows furrowed. He wondered what the previous years had done in her class to make her so cautious, but then decided that he really didn't want to know.

A/N:

There's more than one way to be a subversive!