The Family Name
Year Four
By Elbereth in April
Chapter 2:
For the Welcome Feast, Fowl and Malfoy's groups joined together at the Slytherin table. Fowl and Malfoy themselves sat as far from each other as possible, but that was as much as the girls were prepared to concede.
"How's Butler, Artemis?" Crabbe asked. He nodded over at the large man, sitting at the Teacher's Table. "He looks well."
"He's fine, thank you for inquiring. He said he has some interesting things planned for this year."
Pansy and Eva met each other's eyes and sighed. Beginning of the year meant Malfoy was overly snarky, and Fowl, apparently, was overly aloof and polite.
Dumbledore had stood to give the speech when a disfigured, ominous male limped in and made his way to Dumbledore's side. His face and hands were scarred, and a chunk was missing from his nose. He had two mismatched eyes, one dark, one blue. The blue one moved all its own, without blinking. Many of the students shuddered.
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody."
"Mad-Eye Moody," Zabini muttered. "I don't believe it."
"It is my painful duty to inform you there will be no Quidditch this year," Dumbledore continued.
Dismayed murmurs and whispers slithered through the Hall.
"However, that is due to an event that will be taking place this year, starting in October, that I am sure you will all enjoy immensely. Hogwarts will be hosting the TriWizard Tournament this year!"
Things his father had hinted at suddenly made sense to Draco. "Well, well."
Dumbledore went on to explain that the Tournament was a magical competition between three wizarding schools, Hogwarts, Beaux Batons, and Durmstang. It was discontinued for awhile because it was so dangerous, but this year it would be resumed with new safety precautions. Each school would pick a Champion to compete for them, once the other two schools arrived on Halloween. Only students 17 or older would be allowed to compete for the prize of the TriWizard Cup and 1000 Galleons.
"What do you think, Draco?" Goyle asked.
"I think you'd have to be a fool to risk death in a stupid contest for a lousy prize," Draco replied sincerely.
"Yeah," Crabbe laughed. "I doubt many Slytherins will enter."
"Too bad each school can only have one Champion," Draco smirked. "It'd be a great way to whittle down the number of Gryffindors."
After the Feast, Hermione Granger approached their table and tapped Fowl on the shoulder. "Hello, Artemis! It's so good to see you again!" She hugged him.
Artemis appeared rather disconcerted. "Yes. Well. Hello."
She pulled back and looked up at him, eyes sparkling. "What do you think about the Tournament and the new Defense Professor?"
"He looks—rather mad, actually. I daresay the Tournament will prove entertaining enough." He held himself stiffly, inching backwards a little.
Her expression changed suddenly. "Did you know Hogwarts has house elves? For slave labor!"
Artemis's Yearmates, who had held back to let others go around them as they blatantly eavesdropped, all turned as one to stare at her.
"You're still harping on that, Granger?" Draco laughed. "Who do you think cleans the castle—makes your bed? Cooks your food? Clears the snow off the walks? Not Dumbledore! Not you! It's a fact of wizarding life. Get over it."
"It's not right," she argued. "They should get—sick leave and pensions and—and holidays…"
Pansy looked at her uncomprehendingly. "What would they do with those things? They're house elves!"
"I won't take advantage of them—"
"Then you'll get awfully hungry and smelly," Draco smirked. "They do your laundry, too."
"Besides, your going hungry won't stop them from cooking for the rest of the castle. You should take it up with the Headmaster," Marie said.
"You're one weird girl," Blaise said.
"Just because you've grown up with something doesn't make it right," Hermione told him.
"Perhaps you should crusade for them," Eva tossed her hair snidely. "It couldn't make you any less popular."
"Bole," Crabbe scolded, shocked.
Hermione's eyes narrowed at Eva. "Perhaps I will start a crusade. Of course, bullies like you wouldn't be amendable to the fair treatment of others…"
Snape had swept up on them, robes billowing. "What's going on here?"
"Granger was just telling us about her new campaign for elf rights, sir," Eva answered sweetly.
Snape's eyebrows rose. He glanced at Artemis, then back to Hermione. "If you must bother my House, I suggest it be with more important things…"
Granger looked indignant. "Oh!"
"Now everyone off to your own quarters," Snape ordered.
Hermione turned pleading eyes on Artemis. "You think it's a good idea, don't you?"
Fowl's eyes widened while Draco laughed behind his hand. "I would prefer not to become involved in this…"
Hermione's eyes turned disappointed, wounded even. "Fine." She turned around and flounced off towards the doors.
They all watched her go. "You have a strange girl, Fowl," Snape said, heading off.
The Slytherins looked at each other. "She's not my girl," Artemis muttered, but no one paid attention.
"Do you think she'll really—make some big deal?" Goyle asked.
"Knowing Granger? Oh, yes," Draco said, still laughing.
"I'm going to bed," Artemis announced, and stalked away. The others followed, grinning and giggling.
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Their first Care of Magical Creatures class was a bust, as far as the Slytherins were concerned. Malfoy complained the loudest, but they all agreed—raising Blast-Ended Skrewts? Stupid idea.
They were supposed to feed them, but their teacher didn't even know what the things ate. Pansy was not happy about this. "I'm writing my parents," she said. "One's professor shouldn't be so unknowledgeable."
"That's the point; it's an experiment!" Weasley exclaimed.
The female Slytherins all rolled their eyes.
"Tha's right," Hagrid said. "Now take some ant eggs an' frog livers or a bit o' grass snake—just try 'em out wi' a bit of each."
Zabini scrunched his face up. "Where are their mouths?"
The Slytherins hung back, watching the Gryffindors, throwing a bit of egg or snake into the boxes. "What's that pointy thing on it?" Lavender Brown asked, face also expressing disgust.
"Ah, the males ha' stings," Hagrid explained happily. "The females got sorta sucker things—ter suck blood."
"Ouch!" Dean Thomas yelled. "It got me! Its end exploded!"
Hagrid nodded. "Yeah, tha' can happen when they blast off."
The Slytherins took a hasty step back. "You could have warned us," Bole groused, scowling.
"Come on Slytherins, get to it," Hagrid called.
Artemis sighed, picked up a pointy stick, speared a frog liver with it, and poked it into the box near the Skrewt. Zabini hesitantly followed his example. Draco didn't go back near the box.
"Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once," he snapped, voice dripping sarcasm.
Artemis hid a smirk.
"They could have some use," Hermione spoke up, trying to defend Hagrid.
One pale eyebrow rose. "Like?"
Her mouth opened. Her mouth closed. She tried again. "Well, you know dragon's blood's amazingly magical, even though you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet."
"That didn't actually answer the question," Artemis pointed out.
Hermione looked at him sharply, but he was smiling at her. She smiled back. "You'll just have to research it."
"Since Hagrid doesn't know," Pansy complained.
After class, Hermione approached Artemis again. "When do you have DADA? The twins really liked Professor Moody."
"Tomorrow afternoon."
"You'll have to let me know what you think."
"How's the elf rights thing going?" Eva called as the rest of the Slytherins walked past.
"Fine, thank you," Hermione responded with icy civility. "I shall be researching my case over the next few days and then begin my campaign."
"I look forward to it," Eva said with the same creepy politeness.
Zabini nervously ushered her and Chevalier away.
"Nasty girl," Hermione said with a frown once they were out of earshot.
"I think she's jealous of you."
Hermione looked surprised. "Me?"
"Yes." They started walking to Arithmancy together.
"Why?"
"Oh, last year she—" Artemis suddenly stopped, remembering the trouble last year.
"She what?"
"Well, she—she had a crush on me." He shifted his bag uncomfortably.
"What?" Hermione stopped walking.
"Look, there's no reason to—worry," he hastened to assure her, remembering Madame Hooch's advice on what girls needed to hear. "I'm with you, not her. For a reason. I have no interest in her."
Hermione regarded him warily, but clearly the words had affected her. "Okay. If you say so." They started walking again.
"I don't object to you spending time with Ron."
"There's no need!"
"Exactly."
That sunk in. She brightened noticeably. "Oh! OK."
She reached out and took his hand. His body went tense, his hand limp. Should he allow this? It wouldn't interfere in his alchemical pursuits, but it caused strange gooshy feelings in his stomach. He tightened his fingers so he was returning her grip properly. Well, he had reassured her as intended, now he would deal with the consequences of his actions. It was pleasant enough, he supposed, and he simply wouldn't allow anything to hold him back in his mission to get gold. He could control any strange feelings, tamp them down, dismiss them… yes. He nodded to himself.
They walked on.
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Just before dinner, Artemis was trying to explain to Blaise how knowing algebra and geometry would help you perform better in Quidditch. In desperate boredom, the girls had moved to talk to Pansy and Millie, leaving Crabbe and Goyle to trail after Draco, who was quoting a news article out of the paper.
When Malfoy saw Ron, he gave a gleeful, malicious smile and bounded over. "Hey, Weasley! I see your dad is in the paper. Course, they call him Arnold." Granger and Potter moved to stand defensively by Ron's shoulders.
"Listen! Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers over some highly aggressive dustbins," Malfoy read. "Mr. Weasley was there to aid the ex-Auror Mad-Eye Moody, in what turned out to be a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories. He refused to answer our questions about why he involved the Ministry in such an undignified and embarrassing scene."
He held up the paper. "And there's a picture! Of your parents, outside your house—if you can call it that." All the Fourth Year Slytherins and Gryffindors were listening, as well as a few others in the hall.
"You just can't manage to be nice, can you, Malfoy?" Hermione accused, hands clenched.
"When has he ever been nice to me?" Malfoy shot back.
Weasley was actually shaking with fury, glaring at the blonde. "Your father should have been thrown in Azkaban years ago," he snarled through gritted teeth. "Everyone knows he supported You-Know-Who—he still practices Dark Arts."
"You keep playing that tune, Weasley, but if it was true, he would have been imprisoned, as you said," Draco drawled in a bored voice. "Clearly, he is not. He's a consultant for the Ministry, on the Board of Governors for our school, gives money to charities…"
"Oh, stuff it, Malfoy," Potter growled. "Nobody cares to hear you sing your dad's praises."
"Nobody asked you to speak at all, Potter," Draco snapped back.
'Why does Malfoy always do this?' Artemis pondered. 'He only feels vindication when he insults others. He needs a goal, something to strive for, to get his self-esteem elsewhere.' Then Artemis mentally shrugged. 'None of my concern anymore.'
The fight had escalated while Artemis thought. Malfoy had apparently called Weasley's mother fat, Weasley had called Malfoy's mom an icy snob, and now Malfoy was saying, "Just because she chooses not to associate with riff-raff like you…" They were both reaching for their wands.
Artemis was about to sigh and herd his cadre on into the Great Hall when Professor Moody bore down on them. The boys quickly dropped their empty hands.
"What is this fighting?" Moody demanded in a loud voice.
Everyone looked at each other but no one wanted to speak.
"This is a normal Malfoy-Potter-Weasley event," Artemis supplied after a moment's silence. "Nothing much to be concerned about."
Moody scowled. "Not in my school. Who started it?"
"Malfoy," Weasley said at once.
"Right." Moody had a strange gleam in his eye. "We'll just see how you like not talking for awhile. If you can't speak, you can't fight."
Malfoy opened his mouth to defend himself but there wasn't time. In fact, things seemed to happen almost too rapidly to follow.
Moody pointed his wand at Draco. Malfoy's eyes went wide and he cast a glance over at Artemis. Artemis's wand was in his hand.
Moody: "Confuto—"
Fowl: "Silencio!"
His wand was pointed at Moody.
The teenagers stared in shock as Moody's voice was silenced. His face slowly turned red and his eyes narrowed and focused on Artemis with great intensity. Both of his eyes.
"If you wouldn't want a spell cast on yourself, don't cast it on others," Artemis said a bit breathlessly.
"You just hexed a teacher," Hermione blurted. "You're going to be in so much trouble!"
"Teachers aren't allowed to use spells against students." Artemis lowered his wand, keeping his gaze locked with Moody's. "It's in the regulations."
Moody reached out and grabbed Draco by one shoulder and Fowl by the other. Hard. He marched them along into the Great Hall. The other students trailed behind.
People sitting at the tables looked up to watch the man, who was clearly infuriated, dragging the two Slytherins to the Teacher's Table.
Snape and Butler both stood up. Butler was standing next to Moody in a heartbeat. His voice was dangerous. "You will unhand Artemis at once."
Moody's expression became even wilder—but he did.
"What's going on here?" Professor McGonagall demanded as she strode up behind them.
"There was a misunderstanding," Artemis volunteered. "Weasley and Malfoy were arguing. Professor Moody decided to punish Malfoy by casting what appeared to be Confuto Oris. A painful curse, I've read, that literally stitches up a person's mouth. So I stopped him."
"By casting Silencio on him," Weasley said. Maybe his arguing would be overlooked in the uproar sure to result.
"You cast a spell on a professor?" McGonagall exclaimed in horror.
"Only to prevent his casting a spell on a student," Artemis responded firmly.
McGonagall cast Finite Incantatum, but before Moody could speak, she burst out, "You were going to cast a spell on a student?"
"To get my point across," Moody growled, still squeezing Draco's shoulder.
"Ow!" Draco whined pitifully.
"Professor Moody!"
At McGonagall's agitation, the man let go.
"Surely Professor Dumbledore told you we never do that! We give detentions, or speak to their Head of House…"
"A sharp shock would have done him good. He's a troublemaker who hides behind his father."
Draco frowned.
"I want Fowl punished," Moody declared.
"He's my student," Snape cut in smoothly. "I'll deal with him."
"You favor him."
"You are prejudiced. You clearly hate him, and Mr. Malfoy."
Moody's glare transferred to Snape, who glowered back.
"You must follow Dumbledore's regulations," Butler said, backing up Severus. "You can't abuse your authority."
"Fine. You deal with them both," Moody seethed at the Potions Master.
"What about Weasley?" Snape turned his stare on the redhead. "He was arguing, too."
"I'll deal with him," McGonagall put in quickly.
Still red and obviously angry, Moody simply turned and stomped off.
"I don't trust him not to go on a vendetta," Artemis whispered to his bodyguard. "Watch him, Butler."
"Of course."
"Detention with Filch," McGonagall barked at Weasley.
"Potions lab, 8:00," Snape ordered.
The three boys sighed.
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A/N: Some bits taken from the book. I didn't make Draco a ferret because he didn't actually draw his wand and attack Ron, so his punishment was going to be less severe.