Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time
Chapter 3
History of Magic taught by Professor Binns was an abomination. How anyone could turn that wonderful and interesting subject into a sleep-inducing monotone nightmare and still call himself teacher Draco didn't know. Using Bathilda Bagshot's 'A History of Magic' as required reading material for the first years was just adding insult to the injury. That book mixed true facts, myths and outright lies into one messy jumble. At least now he knew why the older Draco had included hardly any memories of that subject. He had simply acquired notes from some older students.
'That means at some point in time someone must have stayed awake through his entire lessons to write these notes. I wonder who it was.'
When he looked around Draco saw that their ghostly professor had already managed to put most of the class to sleep. The few students who hadn't succumbed to the soporific powers of Binns' monotone voice were staring into space with glassy eyes.
The only exceptions seemed to be him and Morag MacDougle to his left side, and the girl with the coppery curls was intently reading a book and didn't pay any attention to their teacher in the first place. If Draco hadn't known it was impossible he would have said that she was born with a book in her hands. Draco himself liked books, but Morag took it to an entirely different level. She was seemingly reading non-stop; the only occasions when she didn't read were during classes and when she slept and Draco wasn't sure about that last fact. In fact, Morag seemed to regard the professors as annoyances who stopped her from pursuing truly important things like improving her literary knowledge. She had taken to hanging out with Draco and partnering with him in classes on their second day. According to her the other four first-year girls were much too chatty for her likes and she was the odd one out anyway. She seldom spoke unless asked, but when she said something it was always worth listening.
Draco was on amiable terms with all his housemates, but they were all so childish. Terry Boot, Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein seemed to be forming a friendship like they had in the other timeline while Stephen Cornfoot was doing the same with Draco. Kevin Entwhistle was more of a loner and tagged along either with Draco's group or the other boys while the four girls stuck together. It wasn't anything exclusive or final, but for an observant person it was clearly visible were the groups would develop.
The lecture was becoming steadily more boring. In an effort of distracting himself he gave up on taking notes and leaned over to Morag. "How do you manage to stay awake enough to read? Wouldn't it be better to take notes?"
Morag looked up and pointed to her book. "Binns is quoting the commented version of True Historic Facts of the Magical World verbatim. Until now he didn't change a single word, and frankly reading his speech is far more interesting than listening to him."
"Oh, that's a good find. I already checked the normal book on the list but there were some differences. Thanks."
"No problem. The library here has several dozen copies of the book stashed away in some storeroom; I guess they changed the book list so that people would actually try to pay attention to Binns. I asked Madam Pince because I recognized a passage last week and didn't see it anywhere." Morag whispered and returned to reading.
Well, that changed things. He wouldn't have to pay attention to Binns in an effort to acquire notes. Perhaps he could use the time to work on his occlumency and order his memories; he would have to bring another book to the next class.
The first week had gone pretty much as expected. Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration and Astronomy were interesting, which unfortunately couldn't be said for History of Magic, Defense against the Dark Arts and Potions. Quirrel taught something, yes, but with his fake stutter and intentionally reduced competence it wasn't an enjoyable experience. At least it signified that Tom had taken possession of him as expected. Snape was completely incompetent as a teacher, he simply wrote the directions on the blackboard and spent the rest of the time stalking around and unnerving them without offering help or advice.
His shameful display of trying to humiliate Harry in their first class had shown that he was either unwilling or unable to act professionally and let a juvenile grudge affect his judgment. Harry had actually gotten two of the three questions right, but that still didn't earn him any points from Snape. At least nobody laughed at him. Potions was the only class the Ravenclaws shared with the Hufflepuffs, and none of them liked the man. The older Ravens respected Snape for his personal skill, but that was more than offset by his ineptitude as a teacher. He was universally hated by Hufflepuff House.
'On the other hand, perhaps Snape is acting on orders from Dumbledore. It's possible he's tasked with keeping some amount of pressure on Harry and don't let him become too comfortable.'
It was unfortunate that Draco didn't know everything what Dumbledore truly thought or planned. The older Draco had collected all the information he could, but there were many assumptions and guesswork involved. While the older Draco had been able to see any point of the past that didn't mean he knew everything. If you could see everything it was very hard to find something specific, especially if you didn't know what exactly you were looking for. Time was limited, and while he had caught some very revealing conversations he couldn't read minds.
That meant the younger Draco had to be very careful not to be seen as suspicious or disrupt Dumbledore's plans too blatantly. Offing the headmaster would have been the best solution, but that was almost impossible. Hopefully Voldemort's ring horcrux would do the trick again if no other opportunity presented itself. In that vein it was perhaps fortunate the he only shared one class with Harry, and one that didn't lend itself well to chatting. Sure, they talked occasionally during the meals or during their off-time, but they would not develop an extremely close friendship like what they could have developed had they been in the same house. At least not at first, it was always possible some time later. Draco didn't fancy getting obliviated or being subjected to compulsion charms, which surely would have happened had he stayed close to Harry.
Instead Harry seemed to developing a friendship with Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones. Her aunt would be a very useful connection. Amelia Bones had become Head of the Department of Magical Law enforcement last year when Minister Bagnold retired and Cornelius Fudge became Minister for Magic. There had been a lot of shuffling of positions involved in the change of administration.
On another note Hermione Granger's behavior continued to puzzle him. She stuck close to Neville the entire time and didn't display compulsive teacher's pet behavior. Sure, she was still one of the best students and somewhat of a know-it-all, but it didn't involve trying to answer every question and almost jumping from her chair every time someone couldn't answer a question. All in all she was much more tolerable than his older counterpart's memories had led him to believe.
The Weasel continued to stare at him hatefully, but a Malfoy that wasn't in Slytherin seemed to have overloaded the walnut he used for a brain. Draco couldn't care less what the boy thought about him as long as he kept his distance. He wondered idly what had brought that extreme behavior about. His father and Mister Weasley outright hated each other, but it was much more blatant than the other time around. Well, with his grandfather still alive Lucius had more free time and less social standing of his own, and he had clashed with Arthur Weasley several times already.
Lastly, he had found out why he had received less applause than the other first years at the sorting. As it turned out the sixth-year Ravenclaw seeker had been involved in the disturbance his father and Mister Weasley had started. Even worse, the boy had just bought a new broom. A broom that had been destroyed in the commotion. By the time they arrived at Hogwarts the story had spread through Ravenclaw house, and he was being blamed by extension. Luckily that was nothing an apology to the boy, a letter to his grandfather and a new broom couldn't solve. Almost two weeks into the school year Draco was a well-respected and generally well-liked first year member of Ravenclaw house. Whoever said money couldn't buy respect never tried it.
"Everyone stand by a broomstick. Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'up'." Madame Hooch commanded.
Draco's broom jumped into his hand at once as did Harry's, but most of the class had more difficulties. "You have to be confident in your abilities. If you doubt yourself it doesn't really work." Draco said to Kevin. The muggleborn boy's broom had simply rolled over on the ground.
Kevin looked at Draco with a questioning glance. "Really? How do you figure?"
"My grandfather explained it to me. Your magic interacts with the enchantments of the broom. A big part of all magic is intent and your own belief that what you are doing is possible." he answered.
With a thankful nod Kevin turned back to his own broom. "UP!" he said in a commanding voice. This time the broom reacted accordingly and slowly floated up into Kevin's outstretched hand. "Thanks, Draco."
Madame Hooch made her rounds, showing them how to properly mount their brooms and correcting grips. Then she proceeded to explain the next step, but not before adding a safety advice. "If you should lose control simply maintain your grip on the broomstick and shout for help. I will use a spell to keep you safe. Most importantly, don't panic."
Draco nodded together with the others. They all had heard of Neville Longbottom's accident yesterday. Still, he had been lucky. A broken wrist was easily healed, a broken neck less so. After all the students had mastered taking off, hovering above the ground and landing safely Madame Hooch made them slowly flying circles with increasing height. For the next step she mounted a broom herself and led them on a tour around the castle. Harry was unquestionably the best natural flyer of all of them, but Draco wasn't that far behind. He might not have Harry's natural talent, but he had been practicing flying on brooms and winged creatures for years. After watching them thoroughly for an hour Madame Hooch gave them both permission to leave her supervision and fly freely on the school grounds while she kept watch over their less skilled classmates.
"Want to take a detour over the lake? It still belongs to the grounds and isn't forbidden like the forest. We can even race a bit." Draco asked Harry when they were finally out of sight.
Harry nodded. "Sure."
The school brooms were old and not in a good shape, but that hardly mattered. They were flying cork screws around each other and took dives until they almost hit the surface of the lake. The giant squid seemed to take an interest in their antics when he surfaced and waved at them. Draco was about to address Harry when he stopped. The look on Harry's face was pure bliss. It just didn't seem right to disturb him in that moment. They continued simply flying for a while until the time for them to return to the castle approached.
"Harry. HARRY!" Draco shouted.
That seemed to finally snap Harry out of his trance. "Sorry, you were saying?"
Draco sighed. "I've been trying to get your attention for almost a minute. We have to return to the castle. You seemed far away."
Harry's expression grew wistful. "It's just… I've never felt so free before in my life. I wish I could continue flying forever."
"I know what you mean. All your worries are simply left on the ground, aren't they?" Draco asked while nodding sagely.
"I'm glad you understand. We haven't really had the opportunity to talk to each other since the sorting."
Draco shrugged. "That's the house system for you. It will probably get better next year. Hopefully we will have more classes together. Additionally we will be able to form and join the different clubs. I'm settling in nicely in Ravenclaw. How are you faring?"
A very large smile lit Harry's features. "It's great. I'm mostly hanging out with Justin, Susan and Hannah, but most of the others are friendly. Well, Zacharias Smith is rather unpleasant and Ernie Macmillan is a bit pompous." His expression changed to a frown. "Ron Weasley is getting on my nerves. He tried several times to partner up with me in class and butter me up while dismissing my friends rather rudely. Hannah thinks it is because he wants to leech off my fame or something. I hope he gets the message that I'm not interested."
"Well, the Weasley family is rather poor and large. I think there are about five older siblings and one younger sister, and Ron probably wants to step out of their shadow by any means possible. Befriending the Boy-who-lived would get him some influence among our peers. It wouldn't surprise me if others will try the same. Remember, you are a celebrity. You will have to deal with the typical problems that brings if you want to or not." he explained.
Harry grimaced. "I wish they would simply leave me in peace. It seems Theo Nott is trying to antagonize me."
"That isn't surprising. You are seen as a political figure belonging to Dumbledore's sphere of influence, and Nott's father is one of his main political opponents. Theo is probably trying to establish himself as leader in Slytherin house. Most of the parents of the kids there have at least sympathies to You-know-who's agenda and have taught their kids these values. If they can embarrass you it would improve their standing. Just keep your cool and don't let them goad you into stupid mistakes."
"Do you mean all Slytherins are like that? And what is that about social standing? We are just children." Harry asked aghast.
Draco shook his head. "No, it's just more pronounced and almost official in Slytherin. Ambition is supposed to be their defining trait, after all. He had followers from all the houses, but I guess most people in the other houses prefer to keep their convictions more hidden. As to your other question, Hogwarts is pretty much an elite school. The education is just one factor. Most of the children here are either very talented or their parents are rich or politically important. The connections you make in your time here have a huge influence on your later life. Just ask Susan or Hannah, they should know. Justin should be familiar with the equivalent in the muggle world; his family is from the right circles."
Harry seemed very thoughtful during their flight back to the castle. Draco hoped he hadn't said too much. He had to make Harry aware of what was going on; the sooner he came to accept his place in their society the better. There was so much he wanted to tell his cousin, but he didn't dare to do something overtly suspicious. Dumbledore had invaded Draco's mind two times already and there was no telling how often he searched Harry's thoughts. Sure, without making it blatantly obvious he could only read their surface thoughts, but that was dangerous enough. Luckily his occlumency had held and the esteemed headmaster should have gotten the impression that he just wanted to be helpful, with some believable interest to get close to the Boy-who-lived thrown in.
When Draco saw that they were almost back to the castle he spoke up. "The flying classes won't stop for several weeks. How about we repeat our little journey next week? It's a shame we are only allowed to bring our own brooms after the second year."
"Sure, I'd like that." a smiling Harry said.
Aquila was bored. Without Draco to keep her company the house seemed so empty. Most of her time was spent with either her grandfather or her mother. It seemed her grandfather was in an awful hurry to stuff all sorts of knowledge into her head. From time to time she accompanied her parents to social occasions, but these were the only times she met children her age.
Not even visiting her trophy room could lighten her mood. Aunt Cassie had taken her hunting since she was eight, and she simply loved it. Absentmindedly her fingers brushed over the showpiece of her collection, the stuffed form of a crumple-horned snorkack. If the animal had been alive or its corpse untreated it would have meant her death. Despite their cute and cuddly appearance they were very dangerous. Aquila thought they were some distant relation to nundus. They constantly emitted poisonous vapors, and actually touching the untreated fur was deadly. Even inhaling the diluted vapors caused debilitating delusions. It was how they got food. Snorkacks were carrion feeders that simply walked through an area and ate all the animals that weren't quick enough to escape. Additionally they possessed something like a natural notice-me-not charm. It had been pure luck that this specimen had walked directly into the sights of her crossbow when she and Aunt Cassie had been visiting some distant relatives of the Black family in the Russian north. Generally snorkacks were believed to be a myth, but that was mostly due to their rarity and deathliness. If you were close enough to see through their natural magic you were close enough to inhale their poison. Luckily it had been a windy and cold day and Aunt Cassie had conjured a magical protection against the weather. It had proven very effective against the snorkack's sole weapon.
With a barely audible pop Dobby appeared. "Mistress is requesting young mistress' presence for afternoon music lessons."
Aquila sighed. "Thank you, Dobby. I will be there presently."
Dobby disappeared with another pop. Even the normally hyperactive house elf seemed to miss Draco and wasn't his usual self. Aquila sighed again when she made her way out of the trophy room. Perhaps she would write another letter to Ginny later. The girl had proven to be an interesting pen pal. Their upbringing and perspectives were very different, but that was what made it fascinating.
Abraxas cursed under his breath. Getting information about young Potter the muggle way had proven effective, but he didn't like what he had learned. Oh, on the surface everything seemed to be alright, but if you knew what to look for the traces of obliviations and some other charms were unmistakable. There were small inconsistencies with the documentation. Just what would happen if somebody did extensive memory work but wasn't completely familiar with all the intricacies of the muggle world. Child services, police, teachers; they all seemed to be affected. Abraxas didn't dare to come close to the detection wards at the Dursleys himself, but he had been able to track down people like Harry's first school teacher who had left Little Whinging. Several liberal applications of legilimency later and he had assembled a coherent picture.
Harry seemed to have been terrorized by his cousin during their entire time at school and nobody had done anything about it. The Dursleys were a bunch of magic-hating muggles who weren't fit to bring up any children, but the father seemed to be well connected. The teachers had given his fat son inflated grades for fear of being fired. After the first time Harry had been careful to score lower than what his muggle cousin could expect. Furthermore, the Dursleys seemed to have spread tales about Harry and his parents that made him an outcast in the neighborhood. Harry's clothing always seemed to be shabby and ill-fitting.
As far as Abraxas knew that should have led to an investigation, but nothing seemed to have happened. Or rather something had happened and somebody had removed the memories and prevented the muggles to take notice again. Several times.
'Probably Dumbledore's work. It's easy to mentally influence muggles, just one more ward in the area. He has access to obliviators and can remove all traces of their work afterwards in the ministry.'
When he cross-referenced the names of the neighbors with his secret list of known Dumbledore supporters he made another discovery. Arabella Figg, squib and known breeder of cross-bred kneazles had taken residence in Little Whinging shortly after Voldemort's defeat. She had been observed having contact with Dumbledore during the sixties and seventies by several of his informants, thereby making it on his lists.
Together with Draco's reports he came to a devastating conclusion. Albus Dumbledore, the man who had created the tale of the Boy-who-lived in the first place, ensured with everything in his power that Harry Potter stayed in an abusive muggle household for some reason Abraxas couldn't fathom. Even worse, there was nothing he could do about it at the present time. He had nothing permissible in court and no legal claim to Harry's guardianship. What evidence there was could be easily suppressed. The new Minister for magic Cornelius Fudge was still completely in Dumbledore's pocket. Abraxas had delegated Lucius to influence Fudge, but it would be at least a year and a lot of money until he had enough clout to suggest any specific actions. At least it seemed possible to make progress with him. Bagnold had been an almost fanatical Dumbledore supporter.
'I'm cutting it close. It's virtually certain I won't make it through Draco's third Hogwarts year; that's probably not enough time. I will have to collect all the available evidence and hope for an opportunity.'
It wasn't a happy thought, but in all likelihood he would have to leave it to Draco. Abraxas didn't like how many burdens he had to lay on his grandson's young shoulders, but time was working against him. Still, he would like to talk with young Harry at least once. Charlus Potter hadn't exactly been a close friend and they had often taken opposing stances on political issues, but they had gotten along passably well on a personal level. Additionally, Cassiopeia wanted to meet the only grandchild of her sister before her death. That narrowed it down to either the coming summer or the one after next.
'Better make it the coming summer, Cassie won't last much longer. Dumbledore has certainly placed tracking charms on the boy and will watch him like a hawk until he is with his relatives. I will have to research ways to get around that at least temporarily.'
Draco frowned when he heard the Weasel's loud voice after the end of Charms class. "It's no wonder no one can stand her, she's a nightmare, honestly. Always showing other people up and knowing everything better."
It seemed Granger's performance with the levitation charm and even more her attempt to help the redhead had stoked the Weasel's anger and envy. A loud sob later a distraught Hermione Granger were taking off at high speed.
"I think she heard you." Dean Seamus said.
"So? She must've noticed she's got no friends." the Weasel replied.
When the mass of students dispersed Draco noticed Neville standing there, his expression wavering between anger and shame. Obviously he didn't agree with the Weasel's words, but was now ashamed of himself that he didn't do anything.
'This is an unexpected opportunity. Today the troll will appear if Tom keeps his plans constant. Even if he doesn't let it into the school I can make some connections to Neville and Hermione.'
"Where do you think Hermione ran to?" he asked Neville.
The chubby boy was startled. "Why do you want to know?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "To help her, of course. I don't want to let a walnut-brain like the Weasel, err, I mean Weasley get away with insulting his superiors in intelligence. Aren't you supposed to be her friend? You two are always together."
Neville seemed to deflate. "I guess I was, but how can I pretend to be her friend after I failed to say anything just now?"
Grabbing Neville by the shoulder, Draco stared directly into his eyes. "You're right; you should have stood up for her. Still, you can fix it. You will have to apologize and grovel a bit, but after that she will forgive you. Probably. I have a younger sister and one thing I have learned is that women are fickle." He turned to the waiting Stephen. "Neville and I are going to track Hermione down and make sure she is alright; we won't make it to the next class. Can you please tell McGonagall about it?"
After Stephen gave his assent Draco and Neville made to follow Hermione. A bit of searching later they found her in the girls' bathroom.
"Hermione, are you there?" Neville asked tentatively.
"Go away!"
"I-I'm sorry about earlier; I should have said something. Please come out." he tried again. When nothing happened besides further sobbing he sent a helpless look at Draco.
'Why me?' Draco asked himself silently. He breathed deeply before speaking. "Hiding won't help, you know. Why did you let what the git said get to you? Granted, Longbottom made a mistake, but he is trying to make up for it. You are a big girl, deal with it."
The sobbing stopped for a moment. "Who is there?"
"I'm hurt, Granger. We have been in classes together for two months and you still don't recognize my voice." Draco drawled.
"D-Draco? Why are you here?" Hermione asked.
"To help you and Longbottom, of course. Can't let Weasley get away with insulting his betters. You have at least one friend who is worried about you."
"B-but what R-Ron said…"
Draco sighed. "Granger, you should simply ignore anything the Weasel spouts. He is a jealous little git who envies other people's wealth and skill but is too lazy to work hard to improve himself. I know you are smart; you should have figured that out by now. At least among us Ravenclaws you are respected and generally well-liked. Can you please come out now?"
Hermione was silent for almost a minute and Draco began to fear that his approach had been wrong when the door suddenly opened. Her eyes were puffy and the tear streaks still visible, but at least she had stopped crying. Neville shuffled on his feet until Draco hit him with his elbow to urge him forward.
"Hermione, I'm deeply sorry for not defending you. I promise that will never happen again. Can you please forgive me?" Neville pleaded.
The bushy-haired girl seemed to consider for a moment before a small smile lit her face. "Okay." The following hug seemed to be almost bone-crushing judging from the expression on Neville's face.
"Good, now that this is cleared up can we leave? I don't want to be found in a girls' bathroom." Draco said.
Neville blushed and Hermione giggled. "I still can't go out there; I look a mess." the girl said after a look into the mirror.
Draco shook his head. "Here, let me help." A few spells later Hermione looked again perfectly fine.
"Thank you, but how do you know these spells?" Hermione asked.
"I have to regularly accompany my parents to social occasions. Children are expected to present an impeccable image. My mother used these spells often enough on me and as soon as I got my wand I learned them myself. The girls in your dormitory should know them, too." he explained. After Hermione nodded he continued. "There's no sense in going to class anymore; better to go back to the common rooms and rest for the feast later."
When they arrived at the door to the Gryffindor room Neville stayed behind for a moment.
"I wanted to thank you, Draco. From what I heard I wouldn't have expected that from you." He offered his hand. Draco didn't hesitate and shook it.
"It was no trouble, Neville. See you at the feast later."
Neville gave a last wave and disappeared through the portrait hole. After it had closed Draco turned around and made his way to Ravenclaw Tower to relax a bit before he had to get ready for the Halloween feast later.
'That went well. I got my hooks into two more people without arousing suspicion. If I jumpstart Neville's development and befriend him I will gain a valuable political ally later. Hermione has her uses and I can probably spare the house elves from S.P.E.W.'
Hermione Granger was a very confused girl. Draco Malfoy was the last person she had expected to be nice to her considering the general opinion about the Malfoy family she had heard. Rich, influential, arrogant and proponents of pure-blood supremacy were the four main points. It had caused her to avoid him along with most of Slytherin house whenever possible. Seen in the light of today's events he seemed to be a decent person, though. Or he was a good enough actor to hide his true thoughts in pursuit of some secret agenda, which was a very real possibility.
On the other hand everyone talked about the Weasleys like they were well-respected, progressive, on the side of the muggle rights movement and generally likable. In her limited observation of the four Weasleys at Hogwarts that didn't completely hold up. The fifth year Gryffindor prefect Percy was a stickler for rules and seemed a bit arrogant and pompous, but was otherwise okay. The third year twins George and Fred were bullies under the pretense of being pranksters and Hermione did her utmost to avoid becoming a target after she learned that fact. Lastly, Ron was a lazy and bigoted little boy who envied all the people who were more successful than him. He was thoroughly unpleasant to be around, but in an effort of getting along she had helped him with his homework several times. Well, after his behavior today that was a thing of the past.
'Why did the words of that git affect me so strongly?' she wondered. 'Probably because I feared them to be true.'
In reality she got along passably well with her dorm mates Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Fay Dunbar and Sally-Anne Perks even if she secretly thought them rather immature. Not that she told that opinion anyone, in the interest of her social integration she played along as far as she could stomach. She shuddered to think of how she would have fared had she still been the girl from a little more than a year ago.
Hermione had always been far more intelligent than her peers. Unfortunately she had never been able to make or keep friends. In retrospect it was clear to her that she had displayed a grating know-it-all attitude. Not only did she know more than the other children, she had been desperate for acknowledgement of that knowledge, rubbing it in everybody's faces. In general she worshipped authority, be it books or teachers.
That had changed one day when one of her teachers had led her to an isolated room, ostensibly for advanced tutoring. Then he had locked the door and began touching her. If she had been a normal girl things would have become even worse, but she wasn't normal. In what she now knew had been a bout of accidental magic she had thrown the man against a wall and escaped through the magically unlocked door, but that was not the end of the horror.
The following investigation and trial had been manipulated from the beginning. Incriminating evidence simply disappeared, false witnesses popped up all over the place and her reputation was deliberately ruined. In the end the teacher was acquitted of all charges and her parents were told that they were lucky they weren't being sued in turn. The lowest point had been when she saw the judge shake hands with the man after the trial when she was about to leave the rest room and they thought nobody was watching. In that moment she had lost her trust in authority.
When she told her parents they sat her down and explained to her how the world really worked. It was all about connections and what people you knew. Laws were only the tools the powerful used to control the masses and create an illusion of fairness. Her teacher was related to several rather important people, and they had used their influence to exonerate him from all wrongdoing. The Grangers as ordinary dentists had no chance against that sort of clout. It would be impossible to prove anything; it was basically her word against his in the first place. It had been an eye-opening experience. Hermione hated her new-found knowledge with a passion. The world had seemed a much nicer place when she could still believe in authority, both of persons and of books. She wanted to change it desperately, but to do so she needed to become a part of the system. Otherwise she would never be in a position of power where she could influence things to take a turn for the better. She never wanted to be a helpless victim again.
Hermione had been planning how to go about this endeavor when something completely unexpected happened. They had just changed their residence (there was no way they could stay in that neighborhood with Hermione being called a liar and worse things) when a certain Professor McGonagall arrived and explained about magic. At first she and her parents had been skeptical, but the proof had been undeniable. The first question Hermione had come up with had been how they kept an entire world secret. The answer had terrified her: Memory charms. Even worse, McGonagall didn't see anything wrong with mind-raping non-magicals whenever necessary.
Apparently the magical government had an entire department tasked with rewriting the memories of muggles. Hermione's new mindset caused her immediately to wonder how much they abused that power. If the average witch or wizards could do it too there was no telling what sick things they might do to non-magicals and simply erase the memories afterwards. Other evidence was no problem for people who could simply make things disappear or change into other things with a wave of their wand.
A bit of digging in the book shops of Diagon Alley and the careful interrogation of several wizards her father drank under the table yielded quite a lot of information McGonagall had kept from them. The magical world seemed to be even more corrupt and prejudiced than the non-magical world. As a muggleborn witch Hermione would always be a second- or rather third-class citizen. At the top were the rich and powerful families and some individual persons who for one reason or another had accumulated enough influence to be considered part of the ruling elite with special privileges. The overwhelming majority of the remaining population had some political influence by electing some members of the wizarding parliament and the minister for magic but was otherwise not politically important. All in all it was a plutocracy with a large dose of hereditary elements and some democratic sprinkling thrown in. The widely discriminated muggleborn were generally the lowest in social standing. They weren't prosecuted, but they could almost never hope to rise to good jobs or influence without some sort of patron.
Still, Hermione and her parents considered it a pretty good deal for her to accept her admission into Hogwarts. Even as a muggleborn witch Hermione would be practically unassailable by anything the muggle world could throw at her. As long as she was careful and didn't blatantly violate the statute of secrecy she would be safe. Additionally, a witch in the family ensured her parents some protection from other wizards. They were pretty sure that they would have gotten their minds wiped if they had turned down the professor. From reading some of the books they had already come up with several possible ways to make a fortune without breaking the law, but that would have to wait until she graduated. Hogwarts was the magical school in Britain, giving her a pronounced advantage over other, less skilled muggleborns.
"Hermione, are you coming?" Neville asked, startling her out of her thoughts
"Oh, is it already time for the feast? I just need to put my book back and then I'm ready to go." Hermione said before heading to her dormitory. She had totally lost track of time when she had settled in the common room, only interrupted by the other girls who had wanted to make sure she was alright after the classes ended. Of course Weasley had not apologized, but by now she didn't expect anything from him.
Meeting Neville on the Hogwarts express had been a stroke of good luck. It was only after she had helped him search for his toad that she realized the significance of his name. You would never know from looking at the shy and clumsy Neville, but the Longbottoms were one of the important families and held a hereditary seat on the wizengamot. It was then and there that she had made the decision to turn her acquaintance into a mutually beneficial friendship. He needed help to build his self-confidence and she needed a patron. The damned sorting hat had nearly derailed that plan when it tried sorting her into Slytherin. Sorting the ambitious muggleborn into the apparent den of pure-blood prejudice surely seemed a brilliant idea. Luckily the hat had put her into Gryffindor after prolonged arguing for her 'conviction and exquisite stubbornness that would have made Godric proud'. Even more fortunate had been that Neville had joined her in Gryffindor despite his fears of being sorted into Hufflepuff.
Now, after two months at Hogwarts, she could say that he was her first genuine friend. After some prodding he took his classes seriously and didn't goof off like the other boys. To her considerable surprise there was even a class where Neville was better than her. Herbology really was the boy's calling and Hermione suspected that he would be at least passable in potions if it were taught by anyone but Professor Snape.
Quickly she deposited her book in her trunk and hurried back to Neville. Together they made their way down to the great hall just in time for the Halloween feast. The decorations and the food were exquisite, and for a while Hermione put all the serious thoughts out of her mind. Her good mood lasted until Professor Quirrel cam sprinting into the hall and shouted something about a troll.
The headmaster's command to return to the dormitories convinced her that the barmy old man was another authority figure she couldn't trust to do his job properly. Different groups of confused students going in different directions created a completely chaotic situation.
'All students were in an easily defensible location and he sends us marching through the castle? I guess the older students know enough magic to take on a troll, but what if some lower years get lost in the confusion and have the bad luck to encounter it?' she thought while keeping Neville close and staying directly behind Percy who was leading them back to their common room.
"How could a troll get in here?" Hermione mumbled.
Neville heard her and replied "Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid. I always thought there are wards or something that protect the school from all harm."
Soon they were safely back in their common room without encountering any sign of the troll. The food had been mysteriously sent up here and most students continued eating. Hermione and Neville joined them after looking at each other and shrugging.
It was about an hour later that Professor McGonagall entered the packed and noisy room.
"Attention, students. The troll has been found and dealt with. The school is safe again. For security reasons the curfew will be in effect until tomorrow morning. Have a good night." she announced.
Hermione didn't pay attention when several students shouted questions. She doubted their stern Professor would answer any of them anyway. Her dreams that night were filled with being chased by a twelve-foot tall grey beast through the corridors.
The next morning when she walked down to breakfast with Neville they took a wrong turn somewhere (Or the castle had changed once again. Honestly, were they doing that deliberately to confuse new students?) and ended up on the third floor. The bathroom and much of the adjoining corridor had been destroyed. Hermione gulped when she saw the destruction.
'I could have been in there.'
"The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops, but you have to pay attention to…"
Draco listened with half an ear when Stephen explained the rules of Quidditch to Kevin. The rest of his attention was split between the game and his surroundings. On his right side Morag kept her nose firmly in her book and paid no attention to the game. It was an unpleasantly cold day, but wind and weather had rarely any influence on the schedule of Quidditch games.
'I wonder if and how Tom will make an attempt on Harry's life. The troll was right on schedule, but now Harry isn't playing.'
The game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was brutal. By the end of it Slytherin won by more than 200 points and several of the Gryffindor players would have to pay visits to the hospital wing. The most serious casualty was Oliver Wood with a cracked skull while Katie Bell had a really nasty open fracture on her arm. The third year seeker Kenneth Towler broke both his legs when he was rammed by one of the Slytherin chasers during a dive and lost control of his broom.
When the students were about to disperse after the game Draco took his leave of his friends and sought out Harry. He found him walking with Justin. Both of them were still slightly pale. 'No wonder, they had a prime view of how Katie's arm was snapped by that bludger.'
"Hello Harry, Justin. Now that you have seen your first Quidditch game what do you think about it?"
"I don't know. The game seems… very dangerous." Harry answered carefully.
"At first I didn't believe anyone would play something like that. One thing is certain; they wouldn't allow that in the muggle world without a lot of additional safety precautions. Have people died playing that sport?" Justin asked.
Draco shrugged. "Occasionally. The brother of my grandfather for example, but that was long ago. It's probably one of the reasons why he doesn't like the game and that attitude has rubbed off on me."
Harry spoke up again. "I thought at first that I would like it because it's played in the air. Now I'm not so sure."
"Yeah, it does take away the majesty of flying if you have to avoid flying metal balls, doesn't it? I mean, that takes the relaxation aspect completely out of it." Draco answered.
The bespectacled boy nodded slowly. "I see what you're getting at. Guess I won't be trying out next year. Watching the game is enough excitement." Suddenly Harry was scanning their surroundings suspiciously before turning back to Draco. "Listen, can you keep a secret?"
"Sure."
"Last week I, Justin and the two girls got suddenly lost in the castle just before curfew until it was too late. Filch almost discovered us, but we managed to run away. When we tried a door there was this big dog with three heads there. He almost got us before we could get out. I think he is guarding something. We think Snape is trying to steal whatever it is." Harry said in a conspiratorial voice.
'So Fluffy is in place. I wonder why no one else has discovered him yet; I would have heard people talking. Maybe Dumbledore used an age-triggered compulsion ward to keep students away and specifically lowered it for Harry to discover it?'
Suddenly he realized that it was time for an answer. "That seems a bit farfetched, doesn't it? I know he can be rather unpleasant, but I doubt he would steal something that Dumbledore wants to keep safe."
"We thought that too, but then I remembered overhearing Snape moaning about three heads the week before last. I'm sure his leg was injured. That means he tried to get past the dog." Justin elaborated.
"I don't know, but I guess everything is possible." Draco said with a shrug.
"We're about to visit Hagrid. Want to come along?" Harry asked after a few seconds of silence.
Draco was about to agree when he spotted a familiar reading redhead who had planted herself in prime view. "Ah sorry, I've promised Morag to help her find a particular book in the library after the game. Have fun, guys."
"You too, Draco."
When he approached Morag the girl stood up and started walking without looking up from her book a single time. The corridors were still crowded, but somehow Morag always managed to sidestep the other people that appeared in her path.
Finally Draco couldn't help himself but ask the question that had been on his mind for quite some time. "How do you manage to dodge all these people without looking up?" he asked.
"Situational awareness."
He waited a few seconds but no further explanations were forthcoming. Apparently that was the only answer he was going to get. Mentally shrugging he continued walking besides Morag into the direction of the library in silence.
A week before Christmas Draco was confident enough of his ability to find his way inside of Hogwarts to check something very important. It was in the middle of the night when he silently got up from his bed and left first his dormitory and then Ravenclaw Tower with a package in his hands. It had been stored in a hidden compartment of his trunk until tonight. He would have liked to do it sooner, but it had taken him until now to find a route to the seventh floor that wasn't guarded by portraits and the like.
'I want to enter the Room of Hidden Things. I want to enter the Room of Hidden Things. I want to enter the Room of Hidden Things.' he thought while pacing before a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.
Suddenly a door appeared in the wall opposite the tapestry. On the other side he found himself in a vast room filled with an incredible collection of mostly broken things. The memories of his older self led him to a specific location, or more accurately a very specific object. The discolored old tiara looked completely unremarkable for anyone not in the know. Draco paused a moment to simply examine it.
'Such a little thing. It's hard to believe the amount of history this diadem has seen. Created by Rowena Ravenclaw, stolen by her daughter and lost in the woods of Albania for centuries. Retrieved and desecrated by Tom Riddle. It is really a crime what he did to a priceless artifact of the founders.'
With a sigh Draco ended his contemplation and retrieved a pair of magic-insulating dragon hide gloves along with a pair of tongs and a rune-covered iron lock box from his package. He wouldn't take any risks with a horcrux. After carefully placing it in the box he closed the lid and breathed a sigh of relief. This horcrux was the easiest to get, but he had no way of destroying it at the current time. He couldn't buy basilisk venom at his age and conjuring fiendfyre was still years away. The only thing the lock box did was making the transportation of the horcrux safe. When he returned home for the holidays it would be riding in the secret compartment of his trunk. Once there he would deposit it in the secret hideout his grandfather had shown him until he could take care of it permanently.
Draco left the room again and waited until the door disappeared before he began pacing anew.
'I need the best possible scrying pool for my skill level. I need the best possible scrying pool for my skill level. I need the best possible scrying pool for my skill level.'
When he entered this time the room was much smaller. It mainly consisted of a water-filled silver bowl on a pedestal amidst an otherwise empty room. After setting his package on the ground he approached the bowl. The water formed a perfect mirror-like surface, just perfect for a beginner like him.
Draco had begun experimenting with his scrying abilities about a year ago when he had unlocked the necessary memories. It was a slow process, but he didn't need a wand to make it work. His initial range was less than a mile, but since his control over his magic had begun stabilizing he had seen steadily better results. When he had tried it before he left for Hogwarts his range had been up to a dozen miles around the family manor.
Slowly waving his hands above the surface he began with the process that would enable him to learn what he wanted to know. Normally he couldn't penetrate the ancient wards of Hogwarts, but he was now inside these wards. His mirror image on the water distorted until it reformed itself into a view of the third corridor. Carefully Draco began to shift the viewpoint.
'Let's see what we've got there. Three-headed dog, devil's snare, chess board, room with rapidly moving blocks that looks more like a three-dimensional obstacle course , troll under a stasis charm, table with potions and the final room with the mirror. Interesting, it seems the mirror is already in place. I wonder if the headmaster will remove it specifically to have Harry stumble upon it or if it is a deviation from the original timeline.'
Draco ended the scrying before humming in thought. The evidence was inconclusive, but it surely seemed that the traps with the exception of the troll were tailored towards Harry and his circle of close friends. Justin was an avid chess player, Susan was quite good in Herbology and Hannah loved logic puzzles. Hagrid would probably provide them with the means of bypassing the dog. The only difference seemed to be the fourth obstacle, but that was probably due to Harry not playing Quidditch this time around. There had been several brooms at the entrance of the room and a lever at the other end that would probably stop the blocks from moving. It was a logical obstacle for someone with flying skills but not much magical experience. Harry and Draco had probably been observed during one or several of their flying contests. Any sort of competent wizard would be able to get through all these traps with ease; the only problems seemed to be the troll and Fluffy. The entire thing was either a test for Harry or some attempt to force a confrontation with Tom. Well, there wasn't anything he could do about it.
He might have been tempted to stage a break-in if it had been the real philosopher's stone, but he knew that it was only a dummy. Really, why should Nicolas Flamel trust a relative youngster like Dumbledore with the stone? The man was over six and a half centuries old. In all likelihood there had been dozens if not hundreds of attempts to either steal the stone or force the Flamels to reveal how one was created. Maybe they didn't even know about Dumbledore's little game to create bait for Tom.
After picking up his package Draco stealthily returned to Ravenclaw Tower and his bed. Before he went to sleep he went over his plans for presents to give to his school friends once again.
'A charmed bookmark for Morag, a wizard chess set for Justin, a copy of Customs and Traditions of the Magical World for Kevin, a set of enchanted miniature dragons for Stephen and a copy of The Art of Flying for Harry. Hermione, Neville, Susan, Hannah, Daphne, Blaise as well as the rest of the Ravenclaws of my year get Christmas cards. I also should get something small and nice for Grandfather, Mother and Father. Aquila wanted to have those special enchanted goggles for hunting in complete darkness, but I'm not sure I can swing that in time. If not I have to get them for her birthday.'
Abraxas pinched his nose tiredly. There simply had to be a way to get young Harry away from his relatives without Dumbledore noticing. He had found a way to create a simulacrum that would make it appear as if he was still there complete with all possible charms laid upon him, but he simply didn't see how they could make the switch. Dumbledore was sure to have posted watchers at least at King's Cross. No, they could only do it once he was under the wards at his home for a few days. By then the surveillance should have lessened. Still, that meant they had to circumvent the wards somehow, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out how to do it.
A house elf popped in, interrupting his thoughts. "Master Abraxas, sir, tea is ready."
"Thank you, Jonny." the old man replied while nodding. Suddenly he felt the beginnings of an idea take shape.
'House elves. That's it! I will have to test it, but a house elf should be able to penetrate Dumbledore's blasted wards without setting them off. Nowadays hardly anyone thinks about warding specifically against them and the Dumbledore family never owned any. The old fool probably discounts them because they can't be used with malicious intent against other people.'
A smirk slowly spread over Abraxas' face. The more he thought about it the more feasible the idea appeared. The only thing he needed was for Draco to get a hair, a drop of blood or something similar from Harry. With a bit of luck the boy would be able to meet his great-aunt in a few months.
Author's notes: My thanks to my reviewers. The next chapter should cover the rest of first year.