Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Okay – Let's talk about this chapter. In the earlier incarnation, there just wasn't enough background or depth to the debate class conflict. I wanted to cast a bigger light on the school and the other students, I wanted to up the stakes with Draco and the other Slytherins, and I wanted to get a bigger introduction to Pansy Parkinson, as she does play a larger role in the series. So I definitely took my time describing the characters and setting the scene, instead of just launching into it. I'm also setting up for a new chapter that I'm adding in next – which, I wasn't planning on adding stuff to this story, but now I'm doing it and it feels right, it's just making it take longer than I wanted it to.
I also added a bit more in with Bill this chapter. I wanted to get a feel for his family dynamics, because I really want to contrast Draco and Bill. I am also adding in a few more character beats with Ginny for two reasons. One is (spoiler) when Draco and Bill have their fight, it is somewhat spurred by Ginny – namely that Bill feels protective of her and it's a button Draco pushes. That conflict feels a little contrived right now, so I want to add in more Ginny so you get a feel for their relationship. The second reason is (another spoiler) that this does end up Draco/Ginny. When I first wrote this book, I didn't plan on romantic interests. There are plenty of really good romance fanfics with Draco out there, and that wasn't what I was going for. I think in the back of my head, if it went in that direction, I was planning on it being Draco/Hermione, but I never really delved into that. Now that I know where the romance is going, I think it makes sense to add in a bit more of Ginny.
I will be posting a completely new chapter next time because apparently I don't do anything easy, lol.
Chapter 4
Rule #3: Know thy enemy.
Draco followed the rest of the sixth- and seventh-year students into the little-used lecture hall on the fourth floor. It had tiered seating set in a semi-circle around a large stage. It was large enough to fit half the school in the rows. Normally it was reserved for choral concerts or the amateur productions the Hogwarts drama club put on. Now it'd be hosting the first meeting of the ill-advised debate club.
Draco climbed to the back row, wanting as much distance from the ridiculousness as possible. His sixth-year Slytherins filed in around him. Draco kicked his feet up on the seat in front of him and sat back in his chair. Crabbe and Goyle began charming paper birds, trying to get the constructs to fly over the heads of unsuspecting students and then drop splatters of ink over the victims. It was juvenile, perhaps, but unexpectedly amusing.
Cassius Warrington, the most popular seventh year Slytherin, held his own court a few rows below. Draco watched what students flocked to his side. As a sixth year, Draco didn't expect to command the seventh years' attentions. They were technically already. They didn't want to take orders or pay deference to a sixth year. As Lucius' son, Draco could have demanded that Warrington cede his power to him. But Draco had never craved that much power, and the students Warrington attracted were simple bullies. They only knew how to use intimidation and brute force to get their way. Draco preferred subtler weapons, not blunt instruments. So he let Warrington have his court and his delusions of grandeur. The students with more insight, more brains than brawn, often ended up at Draco's side.
He did note that Theodore Nott chose to sit with Warrington, on the outskirts, not fully in his ranks, but obviously trying to win over the older boy. It seemed Nott had grown weary of being reined in by Draco. It was a pity, really. It wasn't that Nott was stupid; quite the contrary. His grades were typically O's, and never less than an E. He could have learned a lot from Draco, but he was impulsive and reckless. He chafed under Draco's direction. Well, he was welcome to try Warrington's brand of chaos, but there was a reason why Warrington wasn't as feared as Draco. Warrington was too obvious in his attacks. It was easy for the professors to identify Warrington as the culprit of his crimes, and often times they fooled his plots before they even came into fruition. He had no concept of the long-game.
Still, if Nott left Draco's side, more students might defect. Draco mentally counted up the loss of his pawns and frowned. It wouldn't be good. He felt a pang in his temples and reached up to rub his head.
"It's the company, isn't it?" Pansy Parkinson asked, sauntering up the steps to his row. She shooed Goyle away so she could claim the chair next to him and reached over to stroke a hand through his hair. "All this stupidity, it gives me a headache too."
Now that school hours were over, she – like the other students – had changed out of her uniform. But while most students had dressed for comfort, Pany had dressed for attention. She wore a short black dress that clung to her curves and exposed most of her legs. Her black hair was sleek and straight and fell attractively down her back. Her makeup was expertly applied, emphasizing her dark eyes and full lips. Draco let his gaze sweep over her. Pansy was the type of beautiful that deserved extended study, and Pansy liked to be appreciated.
"You've been distant," she said.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'm not the one that's been holed up in Wiltshire's bed."
Pansy's eyes flicked over to the seventh-year boy currently sitting next to Warrington. She shrugged a shoulder. "He has his uses."
"Has or had?" Draco asked.
Pansy's lips slid into a wicked smile, revealing perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. "Are you asking if I'm available? Why, Draco Malfoy, do you miss my company?"
"Always," Draco promised, but both of them knew it was a lie. Although both of their families expected them to marry, and although they had dated, he and Pansy were better suited as friends. And occasionally friends-with-benefits.
Draco tipped his head towards Nott and Pansy followed his gaze.
Her smiled turned cold. "Well, that's a problem for you, isn't it?"
"You could help."
"What's in it for me?"
It was Draco's turn to shrug. "Let's say I'll return the favor."
Pansy gave him a long look, then tossed her hair back. "Well, alright then." She got to her feet and sashayed over to Wiltshire. She tucked herself underneath his arm and gazed at him in expertly feigned adoration.
Draco sat back as McGonagall strode to the center of the stage, feeling slightly easier. Pansy wasn't a full ally, but she'd alert him to anything truly problematic.
McGonagall cast a quick flash charm to quiet the room. It took a few minutes for the room the settle.
She cleared her throat. "Thank you and welcome to your first Debate Class. This is meant to be a safe and respectful environment where you can engage in productive conversations. Bullying will not be tolerated. Insults will not be tolerated. Intimidation and threats will not be tolerated." Her eyes flickered to the back row where Draco was sitting. "I hope that's quite understood."
"Bloody hag," Draco muttered. He dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling, an angry flush stealing up his neck and face. Why was he always targeted with these sorts of lectures? Yes, he'd been in scraps before, but he was hardly the worst offender in the school.
"The main issue we face today is the prejudice against Muggleborn witches and wizards," McGonagall continued. "As such, you will be divided into three groups depending on your beliefs. Those of you who believe Purebloods are inherently superior will meet in your own group, and those who believe in equality will meet in another. These two groups will meet every Wednesday to prepare for the first debate, which will take place before Christmas break. If you are undecided, you will join the Neutral Party. You will have the ability to move from group to group to observe their preparation and to ask questions. You will not have to participate the debate, but you will be assigned a paper outlining what you have learned. A second debate will be held in the spring semester.
"The first debate will cover the current topics that are being debated in our government at this time – such as Muggleborn restriction acts and the proposed Pureblood/Muggleborn marriage laws. The second debate will tackle the larger issues, including the war with Lord Voldemort."
Gasps echoed about the room at McGonagall's use of the Dark Lord's name. Draco could see some students turn a bit pale.
McGonagall flicked her wand and three sheets of parchment flew up to the front board. "Please sign your name under one of the groups and be sure to take the instructions' page that applies to your group and then you are dismissed. That is all."
She stepped away, gesturing for the board. It didn't surprise Draco that the Golden Trio were the first to step up to the board and sign their names for the Equality Group. They were followed by a good deal of Gryffindors. Warrington pushed his way through the throng to put his name on the Pureblood Superiority Group. His posse of Slytherins trailed behind him.
Draco's Slytherins turned to him and he waved them on. He didn't move himself; he just watched the students sign up for the groups, mentally checking to see if he had made any wrong assumptions. He'd only misjudged two – a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff.
His gaze fell on Blaise, hanging in the back of the crowd. His hands were clenched and his was bouncing a little bit on his toes, clearly agitated.
"Don't do it, Zabini," Draco whispered, sitting up in his seat. "Don't be a fool."
But Blaise didn't hear him, or obey him. He vacillated for another minute, but once there was an opening for the board, he stepped up and assigned himself to the Equality group.
It took a moment for the other students to notice. It started with some stares and grew into nudges and whispers. It finally alerted the other Slytherins, who were still grouped around the Pureblood Superiority page.
"Blood traitor!" Nott yelled. He lunged forward, but Warrington caught his arm and pulled him back. McGonagall, who'd been standing by the doorway, began making her way towards the group of the Slytherins.
Draco looked to the Gryffindors. They were staring at Blaise in suspicion, because it'd be just like a Slytherin to join their group to spy. But Draco knew that Blaise was honest in his support. But honesty wouldn't keep the other Slytherins from turning on him. Blaise would need new friends for protection if he hoped to make it out of sixth year without being hexed into oblivion.
Draco could make that happen.
And in doing so, he'd help his own reputation.
A win-win, really. Although the odds of him getting a detention were stronger than he'd like.
Draco left his chair and stalked down the stairs, towards the front of the room, where Blaise was poised, caught between Gryffindors and Slytherins. All the students saw Draco coming, he made sure of it, hitting the soles of his shoes hard on the wooden steps, making his footsteps echo. He twisted his expression into one of rage and the students pulled back, trying to get away.
Blaise turned at his approach, his eyes growing wide. They had a tentative friendship, but Blaise must know his decision today had changed things. Draco reached Blaise's side, grabbed his arm, and yanked him away from the throng. Blaise didn't protest, not even when Draco shoved him against the far wall.
"What the hell are you thinking?" Draco demanded. He kept one eye on Blaise, the other on the crowd to gauge their reaction.
"I'm not changing my mind," Blaise blurted out. "Voldemort's wrong. Blood purity doesn't matter. It's not even a real thing. There's no correlation between strength of magic and family blood lines. Pureblood superiority is a lie perpetuated by the elite to maintain their power and wealth."
"You sound quite determined."
"I am. I'm not changing my mind. I believe in equality, and if that means we can't be friends anymore, then so be it."
Draco flicked his gaze over to the Gryffindors. They were still huddled together, still casting suspicious eyes at Blaise.
Draco pulled his wand and held it at Blaise's throat. The other boy swallowed hard and looked up at him, eyes beseeching. "Draco?"
"You should have made friends with Potter and the rest before losing my friendship," Draco told him. "Because right now, the Gryffindors don't believe that you're genuine and the Slytherins are out for blood."
Blaise's face paled. His eyes darted between Draco and the rest of the students. He saw his predicament now – no one was coming to help him. He licked his lips. "What are you going to do?"
Draco grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall. Blaise yelped and Draco shoved his wand underneath the soft point of his jaw.
"Hey, Malfoy!" Potter started forward, finally realizing that the Slytherin who'd signed for equality was getting accosted.
But Potter wasn't moving fast enough. He didn't seem that worried for Blaise, and Draco wanted Potter to be as scared as the Slytherins were angry.
Draco heaved a sigh. "It's too early for detention."
"Wha-?"
Blaise's question was cut off as Draco yanked him from the wall and threw him to the ground. Blaise grunted in pain, someone in the throng of students screamed, and Draco raised his wand with a superfluous flourish, trying to buy Blaise more time and to keep his own sentence light. If he actually managed to curse Zabini, he'd be looking at weeks of detentions.
Thankfully Potter wasn't a complete idiot. He jumped forward with a shout. "Expelliarmus!"
Draco let the spell hit. He was knocked back a couple of steps. His wand was ripped from his hand and went clattering across the floor. The Slytherins shouted and jumped forward, more than ready to come to Draco's aid, but then the teachers were there, pushing everyone back and separating the students.
"This is completely unacceptable!" McGonagall declared. "Thirty points from Slytherin. Mr. Malfoy, detention this Saturday. There will be no acts of violence or physical aggression in the class. Is that understood?"
Draco watched Potter extend a hand to Blaise, helping him to his feet. Blaise rubbed his shoulder. He turned to Draco, an expression of disbelief and hurt on his face. It was that expression of betrayal that finally convinced the Gryffindors that Blaise was sincere. Granger put her hand on Blaise's arm, her own face full of sympathy. Weasley stepped in front of Blaise, shielding him from Draco's line of sight. Potter kept his wand in one hand and glared at Draco. His intention was clear. He'd take on the whole Slytherin class if needed.
Draco let out a breath. Blaise had protection now.
"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall snapped, dragging his attention back to the professor.
"Understood," he said, stepping back and raising his hands to show he wasn't a threat. He retrieved his wand and walked back to the desks. He dropped into a chair and kept a sneer on his face as the rest of the students signed up for their groups.
Blaise was well surrounded by Gryffindors now, and a handful of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Draco watched as he was greeted with handshakes and back-slaps and smiles all around. If anything, he seemed to be a bit of a celebrity. Draco was surprised by a sudden pang of loneliness. He'd been alone most of the summer and had found it enjoyable, even preferable. But here, in a room full of people, a fourth of whom fawned over him and half of whom feared him, he felt strangely empty.
He pushed the emotion down as the last of the students signed their names and gradually exited the room. The teachers left as well, leaving Claire Jameson behind. She walked to the board and began removing the sign-up sheets.
"I haven't added my name yet," Draco said.
"Oh." She stepped back. "I'm sorry."
Draco pushed himself up and walked over to the board. The quill sat on the stand, waiting for him to take it. Draco paused at the sheets, pretending to study the names listed in each group when really he was studying the professor.
Claire Jameson. He had her for Arithmancy. There was something about her that unnerved him. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly.
She waited for him, patient and silent. She was a beautiful woman. Draco was used to being around beautiful women, and women who strived to be beautiful. Claire Jameson downplayed her looks in a way that most women of society didn't. Her robes were modest. Her makeup simple. Her hair usually pulled back in a sensible bun or twist. And yet… as she waited for him, half-perched on an empty desk, her posture didn't match her looks. Her back was arched, pushing her chest forward. Her lips were pursed slightly, to make them appear fuller. Her head was tipped down, so she could watch him from underneath thick lashes.
Draco realized then what unnerved him. Her clothing spoke of modesty, but her posture was that of a woman well-versed in seduction. Draco was familiar with that posture. Narcissa used it; Pansy used it. There was a simple explanation for the mismatch of clothing and posture. Claire Jameson could be a naturally flirtatious woman who was trying to dress conservatively to fit in at the school. But she'd replaced a teacher who'd been the victim of a Death Eater attack. Draco was wary of her.
He picked up the quill and signed his name.
"The neutral side," Claire said. "I'm surprised."
Draco immediately recognized the tone of voice. Like the body language, it was similar to his mother. Narcissa had a lilt to her voice, one developed over decades of flirtation. Even when she tried to talk normally, it still held edges of suggestion and innuendo. Claire's voice was the same.
Rule number three: "Know thy enemy," Draco said, laying down the quill. He gave her wink, just to see what she'd do with it.
She tsked. "Hardly sporting, Mr. Malfoy. I don't think that's the purpose of the class."
"You aren't going to tell on me, are you?"
"As teachers, we're not to force anyone into a specific group, but we will be watching to ensure that the rules are being followed. There's not to be any cheating." She gave him a stern look, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips.
"Never," Draco promised.
He left the room, puzzling over the new professor and silently cursing Blaise for earning him a Saturday detention.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
"Did you hear?" Ron demanded, bursting into Bill's office.
Bill looked up from his notes. It was Thursday afternoon and he was trying to prep for his Friday lecture. The seventh-year NEXT class was terribly behind on their Ancient Greek Runes and Bill was going to have to find a way to squeeze in a week of review to get them back on track. It took him a moment to pull his brain back into English. "What?"
"About Ginny," Ron prompted.
Bill felt a stirring of alarm. "What happened? Is she okay?"
"She's gone bloody nutters, that's what's wrong with her!" Ron put his hands on his hips, looking not unlike their mother in that moment. "She's dating. Already! We're not even a week into school, and she's got some boy-toy carrying her books for her. And guess who it is?"
Bill blinked a couple of times.
Ron ploughed ahead. "Liam O'Flannery, that's who. He's a seventh year, Bill!"
Perhaps it was stereotypical of the Weasley boys to be overprotective of their younger sister, but that didn't stop them. Bill had been guilty of it himself, at least until he was out of the house and suddenly realized how much of a mother hen he'd been. Since then, he'd made it a point to be a friend to his younger siblings instead of another authority figure. Charlie and Percy had both followed his example – rather, Charlie had followed his example. Percy had all but vanished from the family.
But his younger brothers hadn't learned that skill yet. They still felt the need to boss their younger siblings around or to act as a secondary parent. Ginny, as the youngest and as the only girl, got the brunt of it. Bill wondered if her dating habits hadn't developed just to drive her brothers crazy. Ever since last year's Yule Ball, she'd been garnering a good deal of attention from the boys at Hogwarts. She'd gone on a half-dozen dates last year – if trips to Hogsmeade while under school supervision could be called 'dates'. It'd freaked out Ron, Fred, and George, who didn't want their younger sister dating. And it didn't help that in a half-year, Ginny had gone on more dates than any of her brothers had in one.
Bill put his quill down and looked at Ron. "What do you want me to do about it?"
"Stop her, of course."
"I hardly have the authority to do that."
"You could give her detentions."
"I'm not going to give her detentions just to keep her from dating. She's allowed to date."
"Is she allowed to date a seventh year?"
Bill pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you're that concerned about it, you can let her actual parents know. I don't want to be brought into the middle of this."
"You aren't the least bit concerned?"
"It's not that I'm not concerned," Bill clarified, "I just believe she's capable of making her own decisions. And if she makes a bad choice, well it's better that she makes them here, while she's safe at school."
"So you agree it's a bad decision."
"That's not what I said."
"You should tell that it's a bad idea. She listens to you."
"She listens to me because I listen to her. Maybe you should try it."
Ron glowered, clearly unconvinced. "I'm writing mum."
He turned on his heel and left. Bill sighed and turned back to his lesson planning, hoping that their mother would be more reasonable about it.
His hope was in vain. He got the owl the next morning at breakfast.
Bill –
Ron says that Ginny's dating a seventh year. We're concerned she might be taken advantage of, dating such an older boy. Your father and I hope that you'll look into it and keep her safe. It wouldn't hurt to check into anyone that she's seems interested in and steer her clear of any ill-advised relationship. She does listen to you after all. Maybe you could convince her just to focus on her studies this year.
How comforted we are knowing that you're at school to keep an eye on her and Ron!
Love,
Mum
Bill was not going to convince her of anything, but he wasn't sure how to tell his mother that. He spent an hour in his office late that evening, trying to compose a reply, but scrapping each one. He was either too flippant or too annoyed, too direct or too soft.
McGonagall found him at his desk, a collection of balled-up parchment in the bin. "Albus wishes to see you, Bill."
There was something pinched about her expression. It reminded Bill that he wasn't just at Hogwarts to teach, and suddenly setting boundaries with his mother about Ginny's dating habits seemed entirely trivial. He nodded, tossed the latest attempt into the bin, and left for the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, sucking on a lemon drop. Snape sat in one of the over-stuffed armchairs in front of the desk. His face was pale and haggard. Dark circles were carved under his eyes.
"Have a seat, Bill," Dumbledore said. "Would you like a lemon drop?"
"No, thank you," said Bill, taking the other chair. "I take it we're not here to discuss teaching."
Snape shifted slightly. "The Dark Lord knows there is a spy among his followers. He questioned me this evening. Rather intently. I was able to taint the Veritaserum he gave me, which managed to assuage his doubts for now, but he won't be satisfied for long."
The Potions Master visibly forced himself to lean back and relax in his chair. Bill read the residual tension in his muscles and knew what the Potion's Master wasn't saying. He'd been tortured. Most likely the Cruciatus.
"That's why I'm here," Bill said. "We've planned for this."
The Order had known Snape's position at a spy was precarious ever since the battle at the Ministry. Voldemort had not taken his defeat well. He'd lost several powerful allies to Azkaban, and it had infuriated him, and stoked the fire of paranoia. At times, he'd killed Death Eaters that he suspected were spies without even verifying the accusation. The Order knew it was only a matter of time before his suspicions turned to Severus. And based on Hogwarts' history of terrible and criminal DADA professors, it'd be all too easy for Voldemort to sneak his own spy into the school to watch the Potions professor. The less Snape and Dumbledore were seen together, and the colder they acted towards each other, the safer Severus would be.
"I thought we'd have more time," Dumbledore said, his voice somber. "Bill, what you're about to do is dangerous. You put yourself at a great risk."
"Severus has been risking himself for the past couple of years," Bill said. "It's someone else's turn to step up. And we may never have this chance again."
Dumbledore nodded. "Your assistance is most appreciated. Are you ready to activate the Mark?"
Bill rolled up his shirt sleeve and lay his left arm out over the Headmaster's desk.
Dumbledore had devised a way to transfer part of Severus' mark onto Bill's arm. It was completely invisible, but it would allow Bill to feel when Voldemort was calling. With an invisibility cloak and other precautions to render him undetectable, Bill would be the new spy for the Order. Bill would encode the information he gleaned from spying on the Death Eater meetings and pass it along to Nymphadora Tonks, currently disguised as a student in his class. She would be able to relay that to Dumbledore and the right people at the Ministry, who took the threat of Voldemort seriously. She would also be able to contact Severus through her potions homework, allowing encoded instructions to be relayed to him without any face-to-face meetings with Dumbledore or McGonagall. It was rather roundabout, but Voldemort and the Ministry had put their men and women in Hogwarts before. Trust was something the Order could no longer afford to give.
Dumbledore held Bill's arm in one hand and waved his wand over his skin. There was a slight burning sensation that faded into an itch, a constant, nagging sort of itch that made Bill feel like there was some foreign body in his arm.
Dumbledore let out a breath and release Bill's arm with a sigh. "It's done."
Bill let out a breath as well, trying to calm his racing heart. He'd opened tombs, crawled into crypts, and broken wards on mausoleums, but this would be the hardest thing he'd ever done. He was going to spy on the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world.
OoOoOoO
As always, this is being cross-posted to Ao3. You can read it there or here, but please do let me know what you think!
