Bruce Wayne and the Chamber of Secrets

Chapter Four: Lessons

As he expected, Bruce awoke in the middle of the night to the sounds of those with ill-intent on their minds. The squeak he fashioned earlier provided him with the necessary warning, causing the boy to bolt upright in his bed, with his wand at the ready. Always expecting trouble, he made a point to make sure that it was always within reach should he immediately need it upon awakening. In this case, it was placed under his pillow shortly before drifting off to sleep.

The precautions paid off, and he cast a stunning spell on his assailants before he had the chance to even get a good look at them. Allowing his vision to come into focus, Bruce was unsurprised to see the prone forms of Crabbe and Goyle lying next to his bed, completely unconscious. The Slytherin then turned to look at Malfoy, who was standing a few feet away from the edge of the bed, looking as though he were a deer that had been caught in the headlights of a car.

"Go back to bed, Malfoy," Bruce said in a caustic tone.

"Don't think you can get any rest this year, Wayne. You can't always wake up in time," Malfoy sneered.

"Neither can you," Bruce replied in his low tone of voice.

He then lit the end of his wand, as a way of reminding the pure-blood of the threat from last year. Malfoy looked indignant and ready to press the issue, but instead he merely skulked off to his bed. The fact that his two cronies were still lying unconscious in the middle of the room either escaped his attention or did not cause him any concern. Bruce had a feeling that the latter was the likeliest possibility. He then glanced at the watch he kept in the drawer next to his bed – it read 2:30, which informed Bruce of two things. The first was that he could still get a couple hours of sleep before having to get up for tomorrow morning's classes, which was something to be thankful for.

The second had larger implications – while electronics such as radios and digital watches were useless on Hogwarts grounds due to the concentrated magic in the air, simple mechanics, such as the wind-up watch that Alfred had given him, functioned perfectly. It was an important fact to note, especially since he brought the timepiece to Hogwarts for the express purpose of testing whether or not it would function. Feeling satisfied with this little discovery, he reset the watch to continue ticking for another day. Lying back on his pillow, he briefly wondered if certain chemical reactions could be produced without undue interference from the same magically charged atmosphere that rendered most technology useless. It was something that he would have to investigate.

Nobody spoke to him that morning, though he could tell from the quick glances others were giving him that the inhabitants of the dormitory had understood the meaning behind finding Crabbe and Goyle's still-unconscious bodies fairly close to Bruce's bed. When he sat down at the house table for breakfast, the rest of the student body gave him a fairly wide berth, which was just to the boy's liking. However, he was not sure whether this was because they felt intimidated, or they merely did not want to get caught in the crossfire of Malfoy's eventual retaliatory strike. No matter. There was a fluttering overhead, and an owl dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet next to him.

On the front page was a picture of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, dedicating some building. Apparently, it had been a slow news day, but Bruce felt that it was always prudent to be informed about everything that happened in the magical world, no matter how tedious. He had just finished perusing the contents of the front page while munching on his breakfast when he heard it. It had to be one of the loudest things to ever come from a single source, which was a piece of mail, no less.

" – STEALING OUR CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU,…"

Apparently, Mrs. Weasley had been informed of her son's little sojourn using the family's Ford Anglia. Checking his copy of the Daily Prophet again, on the second page was indeed an article on a flying car that mystified several memebers of the non-magical community when they saw it. Still, it was of no real importance – Weasley and Potter were still enrolled at the school, and Gryffindor had not been penalized by the loss of house points for the incident, so Bruce felt there was nothing to be overly concerned about. Although, there was the interesting fact that Ron's mother was capable of producing noise that rivaled the fury of the explosion produced at the end of term feast last year, when Gryffindor won the house cup.

It was then that Snape began prowling down the table, handing out the course schedules and looking as if he had would rather be doing anything else. Looking the parchment over, saw that he had Transfiguration first, which prompted him to wonder of Professor McGonagall had lost some sort of wager that would require her to teach Slytherins for her first class on the first day back from break. Grabbing his things, Bruce set off for her classroom.

As usual, he was the first to arrive, which allowed for the opportunity to pick a seat at his leisure. It would be near the back, naturally, and would never put him in the position of having his back to a door. As last night proved, it never hurt to have a dash of paranoia. When the rest of the Slytherins filed in, they once again left Bruce alone, as no one sat near him. Apparently, his reputation as being difficult to deal with in class had not been forgotten over the summer, and had likely been amplified by the current situation. Soon, McGonagall took her place at the head of the classroom.

"Today we shall begin learning the standard spells for transfiguring insects. Please pay attention as I demonstrate…"

Bruce watched with his usual amount of interest as the Professor specified instructions for transforming beetles into buttons. McGonagall then set the class to work, though there was a decided lack of enthusiasm from the students. There were a few angry mutterings, only from the wealthy pure-bloods, naturally, about "unfair treatment" and an "unfair workload". Such comments were fairly common, and no one ever really gave them a second thought – as head of Gryffindor house, McGonagall ranked as probably the single most disliked teacher among the pure-blooded elite, who convinced themselves that she was out to get every last one of them. Such ideas, of course, blatantly ignored the fact that Snape routinely handed out homework assignments that were twice as hard as anything McGonagall would ever consider.

The actual spellwork came easily for Bruce, though that was hardly surprising, considering that he had spent plenty of time beforehand in preparation. His fellow Slytherins, for their part, acquitted themselves admirably in the appointed task, with a few notable exceptions. Somehow, Crabbe and Goyle managed to turn a few of their buttons into wasps, which promptly stung them and a couple other students unlucky enough to be situated close by. One of the victims, a girl named Sersi Lavium, had an allergic reaction to the sting, and needed to be taken to Madam Pomfrey. When McGonagall left the classroom to take Ms. Lavium to the hospital wing, Malfoy launched into a spiel about the constant harassment they received from the non-Slytherin members of the staff, and the dangerous situations they were all put in as a result. Bruce considered sending a few hexes his way, but then decided that Malfoy was not worth the effort.

Shortly before end of class, while the rest of the students were busy comparing notes about the various measures of success they achieved in regards to their assignment, Professor McGonagall stopped next to Bruce's desk and spoke to him.

"I must commend you on some excellent work, Mr. Wayne. It is always heartening to see students display talent and a drive to perform well."

"Thank you, Professor." What was she getting at?

"I expect that you remember that I have no prejudice against giving points to Slytherin."

"I do, Professor."

She nodded and returned to the head of the classroom, just in time to dismiss class. Bruce was left feeling slightly bewildered, which was troubling to someone who always wanted a clear grasp of any situation. Was she telling him that she was watching him? Was she suspicious of his friendship with the three Gryffindors? Did she think that he had some ulterior motive? Or was she giving him a blessing of sorts, as a way of reaching out to a member of a house with an incredibly nefarious reputation? These questions occupied his mind all through his next class, as Flitwick lectured on about the Charms lesson. The Slytherin had to snap himself back to reality at points, as his mind increasingly wandered down possible avenues of actions and reactions to any number of situations pertaining to his status among the Gryffindors in general.

All too soon, it was lunchtime and Bruce made his way down to the great hall, where he had promised Hermione that he would meet her and the others so that the four of them would share a meal for once. He was reluctant, but a promise was a promise, though the fact that she had managed to extract one from him slightly worried the boy. There were an obligatory number of stares from various members of Gryffindor as the Slytherin made his way to the table, and for a brief second it appeared as if one or two might actually challenge his presence there, but then Hermione and Harry called out to him, which sent the necessary message to everyone in earshot. Sitting down between Ron and Hermione, Bruce spoke.

"I'm surprised I was allowed to sit here."

"Don't worry about it," Ron said as he reached for a roll. "Everyone here knows you risked your life for us last year. No one's going to cause any trouble."

Just as he finished speaking, a few sparks spurted out from the end of his wand, turning a nearby biscuit into a beetle. Bruce then noticed that the wand was patched together quite crudely with spell-o-tape and raised an eyebrow.

"He broke it when we crashed into the Whomping Willow," Harry explained.

"I'm not surprised. Why did you miss the train?"

"I don't know. Ron and I were heading for the barrier when it was suddenly blocked, leaving us trapped outside."

"Worse," Ron cut in, "it was when just as the train was set to leave. Taking the car looked like the only way we could get to Hogwarts."

"I see," Bruce said. "And it never occurred to you that your parents would not just leave you in such a situation?"

"Don't you start, too. We already got an earful from Hermione." Ron then heightened his voice in an attempt to mimic his friend.

"Of all the reckless and irresponsible…"

Harry, meanwhile, had noticed that the subject of Ron's impression was oddly silent.

"That's your cue, Hermione," the boy with the scar said.

"Hmm?"

"You know, to back up what Bruce said about how stupid we were to take the car?"

At that moment, Ron grabbed the course schedule from Hermione's fingers.

"Why do you have Lockhart's classes outlined with little hearts?"

Hermione promptly snatched it back from him and scowled.

"Hey, why don't we introduce Bruce to Hagrid?" she said.

"I met him when he came to visit Harry in the hospital wing at the end of last year," Bruce responded. "Moreover, you're changing the subject."

"Hermione, what do you see in him?" Ron asked, deciding to run with the ball.

"He's a very capable wizard who has shown great talent."

"He's a glory hound who probably exaggerated if not outright invented his accounts," Bruce shot back.

"See, Hermione? Even he's telling you the guy is no good," Ron said in a triumphant tone.

"And just what does that mean?" Hermione retorted. The Weasley looked a little off-put.

"I'm just saying that –" Bruce cut him off.

"You're changing the subject again, Hermione." The girl scowled at him, but the Slytherin only smirked in response.

The three Gryffindors had decided to spend a little time outside after they finished eating and Bruce took that opportunity to detach from the group, citing errands he had to run. In truth, he merely wanted some time to himself in the library, where he could prepare for the afternoon classes. Despite himself, he found that the lunch with the trio was actually a pleasant experience. He smiled while pondering Alfred's many possible remarks to such an admission.

After lunch was Herbology with the Ravenclaws. There was not a great deal of room in the greenhouse, which forced Bruce to sit next to a few of his classmates, a situation that did not seem to please anyone. He had not been the first to arrive, as was his habit, but still managed to grab one of the better pairs of earmuffs that were set out for the students. Sitting next to him on his left was a dark-haired boy named Theodore Nott, who held a bit of sway in Slytherin, though not as much as Draco Malfoy. On his right was Robert Anthony, one of the less noticeable members of Slytherin. Bruce suspected that he was a half-blood, or perhaps even a muggleborn, which would explain the low social standing. It was not due to financial straits – the boy's clothing showed no sign of being worn, and the cut of the cloth indicated that it was designed for someone with a bit of money.

Meanwhile, Professor Sprout had taken her place at the center of the greenhouse, standing behind a bench. Clearing her throat, she addressed the assembled students.

"Today, we will be repotting Mandrakes. Now, who here knows the properties of Mandrakes?"

A few of the Ravenclaw hands went up, in stark contrast to the Slytherins, with nary a hand up among the lot of them. Bruce knew the answer, but, in accordance with a decision made as he entered Hogwarts, felt no desire to draw attention to himself. After wading through a couple of wrong answers, Sprout called on the first Slytherin hand that went up.

"It's used as an antidote for people who have been transfigured or cursed."

"Very good, Ms. Davis. Five points to Slytherin." The blonde Slytherin girl smiled.

Professor Sprout then went on to describe the characteristics of Mandrakes, after having given the children a clear example of how to plant a baby Mandrake. She then ordered the class to break up into groups of four when they actually potted the plants. Once again, Bruce found that Anthony was next to him, but they were soon joined by Theodore Nott and another student named Blaise Zabini. Watching the two sit down, Bruce could help but have the unsettling feeling that he was being cornered. Almost instinctively, he moved his wand into a position that would make a counterspell easy to perform. Perhaps he was merely being paranoid, but as a pariah among the Slytherins, he could never be too careful. A few minutes passed in silence before Nott finally spoke.

"You've been causing a great deal of commotion," he said. Bruce ignored him. "I can understand your position. You've been placed in a house that's not known for its sympathy to those outside the pure-blooded elite, and that can be a bit daunting. It can make someone react in ways they shouldn't, such as making unnecessary threats."

Was Nott referring to the incident in the Forbidden Forest where Bruce threatened to burn Malfoy's face off? He could not be sure, and it was dangerous to assume anything at this point. The other Slytherin continued speaking.

"Coming from a muggle family, it's understandable that you don't fully comprehend the meaning of your actions, and act in a way that's outside of proper conduct."

"And what is 'proper conduct'?" Bruce replied.

"It's a respect for the way Slytherin is set up," Zabini answered, finally speaking. "This house has a long history behind it, one that is full of tradition. You've been going against those traditions."

"Have I ?" There was a noticeable hostility in Bruce's tone.

At that moment, Professor Sprout called to the class and informed them that they needed to put their earmuffs on. The Mandrakes proved to be something of a hassle, but one that Bruce was able to overcome with a minimum of trouble, even though his Mandrake seemed determined not to be planted. The other three Slytherins around him experienced no real difficulty either, aside from the fact that Zabini came close to dropping his at one point. The only thing notable about the rest of class was that Goyle actually did drop his Mandrake, and when he bent over to pick it up, his earmuffs fell right off of his head, leading to predictable results.

After the lesson was over, and Goyle was carted off to Madam Pomfrey, Malfoy once again took the time to spout off about the "persecution" Slytherins receive from the other houses. This time, Bruce did hex him, which was satisfying, but had another, less pleasing effect.

"That kind of behavior is exactly the kind of thing we're warning you about," Nott said, walking up to Bruce.

"Warning me?"

"Look, we don't want to give you the wrong idea," Zabini said. "The assembled members of Slytherin are perfectly willing to overlook any past complications and welcome you with open arms into the fold."

"Are you now?"

"You should consider yourself lucky. Most people wouldn't get a second chance. If you're smart, you'll take it and learn how to respect the way things are." Nott had a condescending tone to his voice as he spoke.

"I fail to see anything worth respecting," Bruce responded. Nott shook his head.

"Such a shame. You could have joined the winning team. Let's go, Blaise." Nott turned to leave.

"You obviously don't know what you're doing," Zabini said. "You can't just strike out alone. Not in Slytherin. You'll be eaten alive."

"I'll take my chances." Zabini let out a sigh after hearing the response.

"Fine. It's your funeral. Just remember that we gave you a chance to save yourself. You didn't have to ruin your future this way."

"We'll see."

Zabini hurried to catch up with Nott, who was already a bit up the hill. Bruce was about to head back to the castle himself when another voice caught his attention.

"He's right, you know."

Sandy-haired Robert Anthony walked up next to Bruce.

"You don't stand a chance. Not really. The elites are too powerful, and hold too much influence over Slytherin. At some point, they will break you."

Bruce did not respond, instead continuing to walk up to the castle. Anthony continued talking.

"I don't blame you for hating them. They're nothing more than corrupt bigots who only get by on the wealth their families have acquired over the years. Unfortunately, that wealth buys a lot of power and it doesn't matter what they do with it so long as the money keeps rolling in."

Bruce still did not respond.

"In a way, I envy you. Your nerve, at least. If more people had the same amount of it, people like Malfoy and Nott wouldn't have a stranglehold on Slytherin, and the house might actually have a modicum of respect and decency attached to it."

"Obviously, you're not one of those people," Bruce said, finally responding.

"Believe me, I wish there was a way to bring down people like Draco Malfoy, but there isn't. The best the rest of us can do is keep our heads down and act as decently as we can."

"As opposed to fighting back," Bruce said.

"There is no fighting back. If you so much as put a toe out of line, the elites come down and crush you. The only reason you've lasted this long is because you're a muggleborn, and therefore not worthy of their attention. You might have gone all the way if you hadn't helped Potter. That was something they had to acknowledge. A Slytherin helping Gryffindors to fight you-know who? You have to be dealt with now, as a way of saving face. If not, more people will start questioning the power held by the elites, and then they'll have to deal with the fact that every half-blood or muggleborn that makes his way into Slytherin has been treated like dirt."

"You seem quite knowledgeable about this," Bruce said.

"I had to find out the hard way. I'm a half-blood myself. The only reason I'm not completely at the bottom is the fact that my family comes from some very old money. But even that isn't complete protection."

There was a moment of silence before Anthony started to walk away from Bruce. He took several steps before stopping, and his body language suggested that he was wrestling with something.

"If, and I do mean if, you somehow manage to make it without folding to the elites….." He stopped talking and walked off.

For a moment, Bruce considered calling out to him, but decided against it. While he could use a friend, or at the very least, an ally, in Slytherin, it would be too dangerous to approach Anthony. The power structure clearly had him under their thumb. Still, the Wayne heir could not help but wonder what his fellow second year was going to say. Could there be others, waiting for the chance to reclaim their house from a bigoted and almost tyrannical leadership? One thing was certain – Bruce would have to set up a few more security spells around his bed in order to ensure a decent night of sleep.

Notes:

Well, after much delay, here is the fourth installment of Chamber of Secrets. I can only apologize profusely for the wait, as I know it was getting more than a bit ridiculous. Unfortunately, I found myself sidetracked by a few personal matters, and kept pushing off my responsibilities to this story. Getting called into court didn't exactly help the creative process flow, either.

There was also the extremely frustrating fact that this chapter and the one that follows have gone through about ten different versions altogether (not including one where I got really frustrated and had a time-travelling Ra's Al Ghul and Joker show up and kill everyone as a way of ending the story for good). I'm not really happy with any of them, for any number of reasons. One of which is a character I introduce in this part - an original character named Robert Anthony. I knew that, at some point, I would have to give Bruce someone inside of Slytherin he could interact with on a somewhat friendly basis. Unfortunately, none of the canon characters fit the bill, no matter how hard I tried to place them into the position I need. So, having stuck myself in a corner, I created Robert. You learn a bit about him here, but there's more to him. Don't worry - there's absolutely no chance that he'll do anything extraordinary to completely up-end things. I guess you could call him the Slytherin equivalent of Jim Gordon, to give you an idea of what I need from the character. His personality changed from revision to revision and I still have strong reservations about introducing him into the mix. Oh well.

The name 'Robert Anthony' is a bit of an homage - Bob Kane conceived of the name 'Bruce Wayne' by combining the names of historical figures Robert Bruce and 'Mad' Anthony Wayne. As you can see, I took the first names from the two people when christening Robert. Here's hoping he doesn't blow up in my face.