The Family Name: Year Four
By Elbereth in April
Chapter 6
Monday everyone went back to classes still talking about the champions. The general opinion among everyone but select Slytherins was that Potter had put his name in himself. Only the Gryffindors seemed pleased.
Of course, just because Draco believed Potter's innocence didn't mean he wasn't going to mock him. Care of Magical Creatures was his first real opportunity. "Look," he said to his gang at their arrival at Hagrid's cabin. "It's the champion. Get his autograph quick cause I doubt he'll be around much longer. Most champions snuff it, you know. I predict you'll go ten minutes into the first task."
"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed.
"What? I hope you're teaching him defense charms, Granger, cause he definitely needs them. He was hopeless in that duel second year."
"That's not how I remember it," Potter began hotly, but Draco had turned away and was now sneering at Weasley.
"And you." Ron glared at him in surprise, rapidly turning to anger. "So pathetically jealous of Potter you can't even see that he didn't put his name in the goblet himself. How is it his enemy can figure it out and his supposed best friend is too stupid?"
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron stepped forward, face red, hands clenched at his sides.
"You need to go back to walking about with Brown, maybe if she stroked your ego enough you'd get over yourself," Draco continued.
Ron started to rush Malfoy, but Crabbe and Goyle pushed him back.
The other Gryffindors stared at Malfoy in shock. "He didn't put his name in?" Finnegan repeated.
"No, you numbskull! Gryffindors are so stupid!"
"Hey," Hermione protested.
At this point, most of the Slytherins were snickering and the Gryffindors were looking indignant, and some of them, a bit sheepish.
"But if Harry didn't put his name in, how did it get there?"
"The general consensus is someone's trying to get him killed," Artemis put in. He was observing the chaos with interest.
Potter was shaking his head. "I can't believe it's you guys who believe me."
Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. "Hello!"
Potter glanced at her apologetically. "Plus Hermione."
Ron tried to shove past Crabbe and Goyle again. "Take back what you said about me!"
Draco smirked in great amusement. "What, that you're jealous and stupid? I stand by my convictions."
Wands probably would have been drawn if Hagrid hadn't chosen that moment to appear from behind his cabin with a number of large Blast-Ended Skrewts.
Artemis saw Brown sidle up to Weasley and whisper, "I don't think you're stupid, Ron."
Pansy's loud vocal shrieks of "You want us to walk them?" drowned out Weasley's reply, however.
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Draco sat in an unused classroom in the dungeons with his animagi books and potions spread out in front of him. He had to cast several tricky spells for this next part, and he was having trouble with them.
He reread the instructions for the third time and tried again. He had still to figure out what he was doing wrong. He knew he was pronouncing everything right. Perhaps he had the arm movements wrong? He swished the wand a few times in practice.
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Pansy Parkinson spoke French quite well, so it was easy enough to fake speaking it somewhat poorly. She and Eva gave the excuse of wanting to practice the language on someone, and took to hanging around the Beaubaxtons students, talking to them. Of course, it was just an excuse to keep an eye on Madame Maxime.
"Not like you can miss her, she's as large as Hagrid," Eva whispered.
Pansy giggled.
"That must be why he's courting her," she whispered back.
And he was courting her, it was obvious. He would go up to her, smelling heavily of nasty cologne, and stutter and blush and try to flirt. The appalling thing was she was flirting back.
"You'd think she'd have better taste."
Eva waved her hand. "She's just thrilled to have finally found someone her size. I mean, a big man can date a little woman, but a big woman has to have a big man to avoid looking ridiculous."
"But… a headmaster and a gameskeeper?"
"I doubt she considers it a long-term thing. It's probably only a—a winter fling, in another country, where her friends won't know."
"Gossip always goes around the world."
"I suppose she's used to be being talked about."
"I suppose… but still!"
"I know!" Eva giggled, too.
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On Friday morning, two Hufflepuff girls walked up to the Slytherin table, each with a large drawstring bag. "Who wants a badge?" the girl asked, looking expectant.
"A badge?"
She pulled one out. It was a large button with bright red glowing letters that read "Support Cedric Diggory, the Real Hogwarts Champion."
Everyone held out their hand but Fowl. "I'm remaining politically neutral," he said when Zabini prodded him.
Eva blinked, then put her hand down, too. "I'm rooting for Krum."
"Shame on you," Marie scolded. "Not supporting your own school!"
"I support Hogwarts," Eva retorted. "Just not Hufflepuffs."
"Well!" the girl passing out the badges exclaimed. Eva ignored her.
"You'll see," the other girl growled, hands on hips. "Cedric will win!"
"Whatever," shrugged a Slytherin Seventh Year sitting near them.
"I'd rather support HELP," Claudia Weaver snorted.
"Don't let Granger hear you say that," Draco laughed. "She'll think you mean it."
"I'll take a badge," a Fifth Year said, reaching across him.
In the end, most of the table were wearing them.
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Draco received an owl at breakfast a few days later. "My father gave me the lowdown on Crouch."
"Let's hear it."
"I told Father I had become interested in the Department of International Magical Cooperation because of my admiration for Mr. Crouch, so first he told me that department wasn't the right career for me, then he told me about ol' Barty… anyway, he says Crouch was the head of Magical Law Enforcement when You-Know-Who was in power. He was pretty ruthless, too. He was well on his way to becoming the next Minister of Magic when the unthinkable happened."
"What?" prompted Goyle, his partner in Crouch-watching.
"His son was caught out as a Death Eater. Barty Sr. gave a sham of a trial, sentenced him to life in Azkaban, and then disowned him. About a year later, the kid died in prison, and he fell in popularity even more. The public pretty much said his neglect drove his son into the Death Eaters."
Artemis snorted. "No one forced him."
Draco shrugged. "His wife died around that same time, supposedly from heartbreak. The Ministry made him leave Law Enforcement and he ended up in Magical Cooperation. Plus, we know he recently dismissed his house elf, who was found with a wand at the site where the Dark Mark was cast, at the Quidditch World Cup. Oh, he also speaks a lot of different languages."
"What did you mean when you said he was ruthless?"
"Let's see… he gave Aurors orders that they could kill suspected Death Eaters who resisted arrest. Suspected Death Eaters, mind you. He's the one who sent Sirius Black and various others to Azkaban without a trial. And he authorized the Aurors to use Unforgiveable Curses."
"What was his son actually arrested for?" Marie asked.
"Um, he didn't say. I'll look it up in the library."
"I'll come with you," Millie said. "I guess I should research Bagman."
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An invisibility cloak, a walk into Hogsmeade via a secret passage, a floo to a library in Dover, and a walk to the Black Family Cottage, where the Blacks used to vacation by the beach. Artemis and Butler quietly broke into the cottage and made their way to the attic, where according to Artemis's studies, he would find another clue to the secret alchemical formula.
The "Cottage" was actually a large manor house, built of stone, and the message appeared on the attic ceiling, when viewed by a version of magical black light.
"I wonder if Sirius Black still comes here," Butler mused as he looked out at the Channel. "It's a lovely view."
Artemis copied down the clue in his notebook, uncaring. "At least my research of the Blacks last year paid off. Plus it gave me a picture of the famous 1436 Tapestry, and copying that gave me enough money to splurge on that Invisibility Cloak for you."
"It is nice not having to share," Butler admitted, smiling.
"This clue sounds suspiciously like cocoa beans." Artemis squinted up at the carved lettering. "Who knew alchemy called for chocolate."
"Maybe it's for the alchemist, for when he's done. A celebratory candy bar."
"Yes, Butler, of course. All the ancient philosophers and geniuses celebrated the creation of gold with chocolate." Artemis rolled his eyes.
Butler shrugged. "I thought it was a good idea."
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"Here's our report on Ludo Bagman," Millie announced as they sat around a table in the common room. "He's been the Head of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry since just shortly after he quit playing Quidditch. He played as a Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps from 1980 to 1986, when he retired because 'he'd had his nose broken by bludgers one too many times.' Currently, he owes a large sum of Galleons to various creditors. Word has it he bet a lot of money on Potter to win the Tournament—under the table, like. As an official of the Tournament, he's not legally allowed to bet on it. We also uncovered the fact that he was once on trial for passing information to You-Know-Who's supporters. He was let off because he supposedly didn't realize what he was doing. He's had a clean record since."
"My dad says Bagman's a joke," Draco volunteered.
Eva snorted. "That was my impression."
"OK, Pansy, out with it," Marie ordered. "You've been bursting at the seams since we sat down."
Pansy was, indeed, bouncing in her seat. "I saw Weasley snogging with Brown under a tree by the lake!"
"Well, what do you know. He took your advice, Malfoy," Blaise said.
Draco laughed.
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Sirius Black arrived on Monday, one week after Harry had been made Champion. He had stormed into Dumbledore's office and made a scene, but had been unable to remove Harry from the Tournament. He was consoled by Butler, and quickly converted into agreeing to watch those most likely to want Harry dead. He was quite enthusiastic in his agreement, in fact. "Since no one official seems to be looking into it," he sneered. He was paired with Butler, because Fowl pointed out there were possibilities for two adults that wouldn't arise with a "kid" in the mix.
Sirius was given a guest room near McGonagall's and Gryffindor Tower. He told Harry that Remus Lupin would be joining him at Hogwarts the week before the first task. The first few days he was there, whenever Harry wasn't in classes, Black was usually somewhere in his vicinity.
Towards the end of the week, an article came out about the champions in the Daily Prophet, written by one Rita Skeeter. As it turned out, however, the article wasn't so much about the champions as it was about Harry. Draco burst into hysterical laughter as he read it at breakfast that morning, and the other Slytherins quickly followed suit, until they got to the part that read, "Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. He is only rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl, who like Harry is one of the top students in the school."
Then there was silence as they looked at Artemis.
Fowl's face was carefully blank, but it was clear to his friends that he was not happy. He tried to push down the sparks of jealousy, possessiveness, and indignation.
Draco sighed. "The whole article's rubbish. We'll make them print a retraction with the correct facts in it."
"Yes, Granger certainly isn't stunningly pretty."
"Pansy!" Millie hissed, her gaze on Artemis.
"And Potter most definitely isn't a top student," Zabini snorted.
Artemis finally spoke. "Of course. We just need to concentrate on damage control. Get the press writing what we want them to write."
"And that is what money is for. Which, actually, Potter has quite a bit of. He just doesn't know how to use it. I'll give you the name of the contacts I know the Malfoys use at the Prophet, and you'll go have a talk with Potter about the best use of power. You and Granger can write the article you want submitted to fix this, and voila."
"Very good." Artemis nodded. He knew how to use power. He knew what to do with the press. Why had he been slow in formulating the solution to this problem? His emotions were getting in the way again.
"And Potter will owe me, because I could have used this article to mock him for years to come."
Artemis actually smirked at that. "Well, you still can, at least today."
"You'd better believe it. 'Still cries about his parents'—oh yeah, I can use that one."
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Artemis made his way past the gossiping hall full of students to the Gryffindor table. "You never looked up the records on your family, did you?" he greeted Potter.
The sulking boy looked up at him, startled. "What?"
"You're an old Family, Potter. You probably have a publicist who could have prevented these lies from being written."
"Like that bit about us! Everyone knows I'm dating Artemis," Hermione put in loudly.
"Both of you see me during class break. Bring Black if you'd like. We'll deal with this."
Potter's eyes shone with hope. "Really?"
Artemis leveled a look at him.
"Right, you don't joke, of course you can deal with this," Potter stammered.
"You're enjoying all this attention," Ron Weasley accused suddenly.
"Ron!" Hermione glared at him.
"Use your eyes, Weasley. Has he given any indication he's enjoying this?"
"He's good at keeping secrets."
"You're a moron," Artemis told him.
Ron stood, shaking the bench. "You're an arrogant, insensitive jerk who doesn't deserve Hermione!"
"Ron!" Hermione grabbed hold of his arm.
Artemis's eyebrow raised. He continued to regard Weasley calmly. "You're just proving your inability to control your temper. You still haven't given a good reason why you don't believe your friend's word, however."
For the first time Weasley looked doubtful; then his face hardened. Artemis realized suddenly he'd backed the boy into a corner. To admit he'd been wrong now would be a blow to his pride. Best to walk away.
"Think about what sort of retraction you'd like printed," he said to Potter, then went for a Snape-exit.
"Hey, who said this conversation was finished?" Weasley yelled after him, but Artemis ignored him.
"He's right, Ron, you are a moron," he heard Weasley's sister say, starting an argument amongst the siblings. Artemis didn't look back.
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