Chapter 2: Fair Raven

Hogwarts - Fall 1992

A strange boy his housemate was, Draco thought as he sat in the shaking coach of the train hurtling toward Hogwarts once again for another year. And what a year he had just spent with one Edmund Pevensie. The boy in Draco's concern was sitting in front of him and was watching something far out the window, his expression blank. Draco recalled the peculiar times he shared with Edmund.

...

It was a potion class. The room was yet to be occupied by an instructor, and the students' nervous chatter filled the room. Draco had seated himself beside Pevensie as he could not trust Crabbe or Goyle. It was rather difficult with the two of them constantly caviling about the other boy's lineage. But, in all honesty, Draco would rather be seen with the Pevensie boy than the likes of Weasley, and admittedly Crabbe and Goyle. Looking at the three young pure bloods, Draco sometimes wondered whether it was true that all those inbreeding's over time had indeed caused some defects in the family.

Edmund Pevensie, the mudblood, or as Draco trained himself to use (only) in front of the said boy, muggle-born, was not bad to look at. Not bad at all. His hair was the colour of raven, a bit of teal glistening every right moment the sun hit, his eyes of matching shade, and his light-skinned face was as smooth and flawless as fine china. Or so heard Draco from the girls who had been enamoured by the boy, and he could recognize that there actually was some charm. Compared to the red-headed, freckled oaf and his two big, idiotic oafs, Edmund Pevensie was certainly a more desirable companion to be seen together with. Draco glanced his partner's way and internally nodded. Indeed, he was better. In fact, he knew that among the female students in Hogwarts, the two of them together were favoured much.

At first, Draco had his doubts and regrets about accepting the muggle-born's hand, but his dignity had forced him to adapt, to appear as if he had not made a mistake. Thus was his first intention in making "friends" with the boy. When he had reported to his father, Draco had readied himself to be chastised, but instead his father was pleased to hear that Draco had refined the reputation of the family. Apparently, other students had noticed the unlikely alliance, and one of the Ministry members' children spread the word. Words traveled fast, and Draco was eager to continue pleasing his father.

Just as these thoughts passed through Draco's mind, the door slammed open, and the potions professor and also the head of his beloved house, Slytherin, Severus Snape walked in, briskly and extremely unhappily, as the man always seemed to be. He grabbed the wand a nearby student had been waving flippantly and aimed it at the student with deeply furrowed brows.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class."

The man then, with utter distaste, threw the wand back at the now trembling Gryffindor boy, so unkindly that the boy ended up hiccuping. Several Slytherin fellows snickered, including Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. Pevensie, however, seemed absolutely unamused. His lips stayed a tight straight line as he eyed the man warily.

"As I've said," Snape began, "I don't expect many of you to enjoy the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. But again, for those select few," Snape said as he looked toward Draco with a faint smile, "who possess the predisposition, I cant teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensare the sense. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper... in death." Here, the professor paused with deadly seriousness, to which Draco could not help but raise his brow. Regardless, Snape was now looking at another student, his eyes aflame with ire. It was Harry Potter, the new darling of Gryffindor, who was scribbling rather busily on his parchment at the moment. Snape growled out. "Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confidant enough to not...pay...attention."

Draco spotted a brown-haired girl elbowing the oblivious boy in the ribs, startling him to look up. His eyes, not quite fearful as his first day in Snape's class, still wavered as his face changed shapes in poorly concealed irritation.

"Mr. Potter. Our...new...celebrity." Said Snape with lips that twitched, struggling to keep either a smile or a scowl out of place. "Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Of course, the browned-hair girl, a mudblood, as she always did, shot her hands up in eagerness. It was pity, really, for a supposedly clever girl, she seemed unable to graspt the fact that Snape would never call on her. Harry Potter, on the other hand, simply shrugged.

Snape, completely ignoring the other girl, continued. "You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

The girl's hand was up again, but this time, Potter remembered that he had a mouth. "I don't know, Sir."

Yet Snape was not finished. "And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?"

"I don't know, Sir." Answered Potter again.

Then Snape, with his face of feigned sympathy, gave his near signature remark. "Pity. Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?"

Except Pevensie, all Slytherin kids began to snicker. Draco watched as Pevensie grimaced. Somehow the air felt a little colder, but before Draco could process what was happening beside him, Snape barked out his final order. "5 points from Griffyndor for incompetency. Now open up your books to page 45!"

...

Then there was the flying lesson Draco tried to be nice and teach the mud-, the muggle-born how to fly with a broom. No, thank you, was all the boy had said. It was also the day Draco decided to be mean, since being nice did not work, and threw the Longbottom kid's little toy away. All of them that had been there were sure that Potter, who flew after the toy, breaking the rules, was going to be punished. Except Edmund. He was the only one who said to the laughing Slytherin students, as if it was quite obvious, that Potter "would likely get a broom than detention."

And he was right. That Potter was very soon made the youngest Seeker in Hogwarts history, and the week after he was given the newest, fastest broom, Nimbus 2000, from an anonymous sender.

...

"What?!" Exclaimed Draco from his table as he looked at Harry Bloody Potter unpacking and discovering the Nimbus 2000. Crabbe and Goyle also glowered toward Potter's table, as the only thing they had learned to do by then was to mimic and please the Malfoy heir. Pansy Parkinson on his left made an exasperated noise.

"Who would send an orphan Nimbus 2000?" She exclaimed. "I mean, first of all, why isn't he in detention for flying against the rules?"

Draco looked at Pevensie then, his eyes widened with realisation that his housemate had been right. "How did you know?"

To Draco's question, other Slytherins looked Pevensie's way as well, their eyes trained on the boy, expectant. Edmund himself, who had been eating a cold slice of ham with his fork and knife, bore a disinterested look. He answered as he continued to pick at his food. "Well, isn't it obvious? Harry Potter's the child of light. He's supposed to be the good. Dumbledore or Miner- McGonagall will choose to coddle him until he's ready to fight against the true evil."

Throughout Pevensie's analysis, Draco's mouth was open with inspiration, but he raised his brow at the last two words. "True evil?" Then he remembered how the good standing of his family had once been turnished. The Dark Lord, he thought. In half a second, he was asking, "Who?"

The boy stilled. It was a very short moment, but there was a deep thought and hesitation before Pevensie simply remarked. "We'll see, won't we?" Then he just continued. "But I'm quite disappointed myself. I did not expect such an unjust behaviour, or attitude, from... Well, from them." He glanced up at Professor McGonagall who was looking down at Potter with a satisfied smile.

Pansy followed the gaze and discovered the old woman's smile as well, causing her to gasp in angry shock. "Ha! She bought that bloody broom for Potter! Unbelievable. This is unfair!"

"No, unfair, indeed." Said Pevensie, surprising everyone as he rarely, or never, agreed with Pansy. Or, in fact, Crabbe or Goyle, who happened to be astonished by Pevensie at the moment. They grunted with new and hastily forged camaraderie. "We gotta do something."

Draco eyed the two oafs' quick change of attitude with amusement. As he turned his head to look at Pevensie, he found a similar look of amusement as well. It was barely noticeable, but the boy's lips were ever so slightly curved upward. At that, Draco felt a small sting in his heart. He wasn't sure why but he was a bit irritated that the never smiling Edmund Pevensie's first near smile resulted from the two dolts' antics. It was probably his competitive nature.

The said Pevensie's smile was gone swiftly, however, as the boy faintly shook his head. "No," he said, "if you're wise, you're going to leave Harry Potter absolutely alone."

"What? Why?" Complained both Pansy and the other boys.

Pevensie patiently answered in an unnervingly calm voice. "Because whether we interfere or not, Harry Potter's going to cause trouble. Repeat it as much, he and whoever his cronies are will eventually lose enough points for their house. But put us in the equation. Say, McGonagall finds you," he pointed at Crabbe and Goyle with his fork, "with Potter past curfew, what do you imagine will happen?"

As realisation dawned on him, Draco muttered out, loud enough for all of them at the table to hear. "She'll think it's us."

It was then Edmund Pevensie finally lifted his head to look at Draco with a smirk-like smile that Draco had never seen before. It was as if he were saying, 'now you're getting it.' It was so unexpected that Draco had forgotten to breathe for a second. The satisfaction he felt from receiving that approving smile, albeit small, rivaled that he received upon his father's approval. So terribly embarrassed was Draco by this that he immediately contorted his face in pretense of extreme anger. "We're the bad."

"Exactly." Said Pevensie, as he now sipped his tea. Draco noticed that there was no steam from the tea cup. It was chilled. He quirked his head a little in confusion. Who drank tea cold?

"So what? We just wait, do nothing?" Pansy asked shrilly.

Pevensie sighed, placing his cup down on the matching saucer. "Yes. The injustice will continue, I'm afraid." He looked up. "You could perhaps depend on Snape to avenge it for you."

Pansy and the others grumbled. "Ugh, Potter's better be ready for it in Potions."

Later, after that morning, as he was walking back to the Slytherin's dungeon with Pevensie, Draco asked. "Is there really nothing we can do to get back at Potter?"

Pausing his steps, Pevensie held his gaze on Draco for a moment. Draco had to spend much effort in trying not to swallow hard in anxiety. There lied in Pevensie's eyes something dangerous. The dark orbs intensely gazed into his grey ones, calculations and decisions passing through. Finally, Pevensie answered. "There is."

"Uh, then why didn't you tell Pansy and all?" Asked Draco as he struggled to free himself from an involuntary daze.

"Because even if I told them, as subtle as they are, they wouldn't be able to execute it. But..." Pevensie glanced slyly toward Draco. "We can."

The exclusivity was an instant thrill for Draco. A big, uncontainable smirk spread across his face. "Well," he said, attempting to control his excitement, "Pevensie, I'm in."

"It's Edmund."

Draco looked at him blankly. "What?"

The other boy gave a small frown-like smile. Draco could not decide whether he was upset or amused. Perhaps both?

"You... should call me Edmund."

That very moment, Draco saw something he could not quite explain with his 11 years of experience. It was something like sadness but not entirely. Maybe longing? He wasn't sure, but he wanted to get rid of it. So, when his mouth opened and he blurted out the things he did, Draco could not stop himself.

"Then you should call me Draco."

And it made the small smile less like frown, and Draco did not regret his words.

...

The plan was to first aggravate Potter wherever he was unprotected whenever they could. This would establish Draco and his house as Potter's, and at large, Griffyndor's, enemy. Well, Draco thought, that was already established, wasn't it? But Edmund had pointed out that it was vital to actually accomplish this before moving on to the second part of the plan, which was to befriend Potter's soon-to-be best friend, Hermione Granger. Draco had scoffed when he first heard this. At that point, it was clear that both Potter and Weasley detested the book snob, but Edmund was adamant that the Granger girl would become a trio with the two Griffyndor boys.

So Draco did his best to taunt Potter whenever he could and there weren't anyone, especially Professor McGonagall, to protect him (this excluded Weasley since the red-haired dullard seemed incapable of any stepping up). This left Potter and Weasley seething at the end of every encounter with Draco's groups. On Halloween, the second part of the plan was finally executed.

...

Their tiny professor of charms, Professor Flitwick, stood on top of a book pile in front of the class. He held a wand in his hand with his right hand as he shaped his mustache with the left. "One of a wizard's most rudimentary skills is leviation, the ability to make objects fly. Uh, do you all have your feathers?" He looked around. "Good. Now, uh, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing, hmm? The swish and flick, everyone" he motioned with his wand had as he explained, "The Swish and flick. Good" He said as he looked around again while the students copied his wand motion. "And enunciate," he added, "Wingardium Leviosa. Off you go then."

Everybody instantly dove into practicing, and the room was filled with murmur and some occasional noises of wand hitting wrong places.

"Wingardium Levio-saaa." Draco tried. But his feather did not move an inch.

He heard a gasp from his back, and he turned around to find Pansy looking next to him. Following her amazed gaze, Draco found Edmund's feather flowing easily off the desk and up the ceiling. "Whoa, how did you do that?"

"Enunciation. It's Wingardium LeviOsa, not LevioSA."

Just as Edmund answered, Professor Flitwick, spotting the floating feather, exclaimed happily. "Oh, well done! See here, everyone! Mr. Pevensie's done it! Oh, splendid!"

The students in the room all turned and looked at the floating feather with awe. Some looked unhappy, mainly the Griffyndor girl, who presumably desired to be the first to accomplish it. She made a face at the Weasley boy next to her. It seemed that she had lost her chance to shine first because she was trying to help him. Draco nudged Edmund and nodded toward them. There was an argument brewing.

"Stop, stop, stop! You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, I've told you. You're saying it wrong. It's LeviOsa, not LevioSAR." The Granger girl commented loud enough to be heard by Draco and Edmund across the room.

Ron Weasley, disgruntled, crossed his arms and equally loudly said, "You do it then if you're so clever. Go on, go on."

The Griffyndor girl stole a glance toward Edmund before she determinedly straightened her back, swished her wand around, and crisply recited, "Wingardium Leviosa." Not to Draco nor Edmund's surprise, the feather began to float successfully.

After the class, Draco and Edmund discreetly followed Harry Potter's group from a distance. As they all entered the courtyard, Weasley began to speak in an overly feminine, yet familiar tone of voice. "It's Leviosa, not Leviosar. Honestly, she's a nightmare. No wonder she hasn't got any friends!" Only, the boy, unlike the two Slytherin boys who were behind them, did not see that the same girl he was making fun of was in an audible distance. Tears welled up in her eyes, and holding tightly onto her big books, the girl bustled past them, befuddling the group.

"I think she heard you," commented Potter.

Draco and Edmund looked at each other. "It's time." Said Edmund.

...

That night, a troll somehow entered through the dungeon and put the entire school in panic. Of course, excepting Draco and presumably Edmund, with whom Draco had separated before dinner so that Edmund could meet Granger, all according to the plan. Edmund had come back after the troll was neutralized, not at all perturbed by the supposed attack. He only simply thought for a while before he commented, someone's trying. He wouldn't say anything else to Draco's question, Who's trying what?

When asked about the success of his mission, Edmund explained that it had gone well. He was able to successfully convince the Griffyndor girl that he was not a "bad" person and give the impression that he was a muggle-born poorly sorted into the house of snakes. After that night, as Edmund had predicted, the girl was somehow part of the trio with Potter and Weasley. And that was that.

The rest of the year went by fast and uneventfully. For Draco, at least. There was a quidditch game, which naturally ended with Potter winning the game for his house by swallowing the snitch. There was also a big incident in which Potter, Longbottom, and Granger lost 150 points for Gryffindor. It was a brief time of celebration. Pansy was especially exhilarated. She even became a little fond of Edmund in that he saw their eventual downfall. They were shunned even by their own house, and it was a delightful experience to watch. Yet, as was said, the victory was short-lived. At the end of the second term, the house cup was, for the seventh time, to be Slytherin's again. However, Dumbledore, with some unacceptable excused treated Griffyndor with a total of 170 additional points. The house cup was lost. It was rumoured for a long while that Harry Potter had fought Professor Quirrell, who happened to be secretly a Death Eater, in a secret dungeon below Hogwarts. Then summer came, and that was that.

Summer had come and gone, and now they were all here on the train once again. But things were going to be better, Draco felt it. He would get into the quidditch team as a seeker and bring Potter down in one way as Edmund would in another. Grinning at the thought, Draco took his eyes off of the boy in front of him and stood up to change into his Hogwarts uniform.

His hands trembled with excitement.

A/N: I'm aware that the potion class scene is not supposed to be like that. But I didn't want it to be their first potion class, so, using the script, I made some changes. In case you were confused, it was just another potion class happening a few weeks after the sorting.

In this chapter, I tried to show the very mature, calculating side of Edmund. I hope that was apparent enough. If not, please leave a review with some suggestions. I'm going to elaborate more on the next chapter, but Edmund's curse is affecting Edmund's personality already, at this point of the story. He is still the JUST king, but now, his sense of justice is a bit detached from ethics. It's no longer merciful righteousness that he advocates but strict (cold) fairness, something like 'an eye for an eye'. He sees that Snape is unfair to Harry, but he also sees that the whole school is biased against his house as well, as mean/selfish as his housemates can be sometimes. He understands why Dumbledore and McGonagall favour Harry (he knows about Voldemore's anticipated return), but he still finds the bias repulsive in that Dumbledore, especially, is the headmaster of the whole school who should more neutral that anyone else in Hogwarts.

In this story, Draco, who listened to Edmund, did not do anything to cause trouble for his house. So, he did not visit Hagrid's hut that night. He also doesn't get the detention. However, Norbert the dragon was still discovered, and Draco will still learn, at least get a glimpse, about Voldemort's return in his second year.