Severus Snape's memory (as retrieved September 2002)
Snape insisted on side-by- side apparition. They apparated just outside the Hogwarts wards, and Malfoy stumbled. He let himself fall on the ground, panted heavily. A series of shudders ran over his body.
"You catch your death, Draco, lying on the cold ground like that, after you've nearly drained yourself."
Snape stretched his hand out for Draco to take.
"Just a moment," Malfoy said. "I try to wrap my mind around being alive. I can't believe the Dark Lord let us live."
"Let's get you to the hospital wing, Draco", Snape said.
Malfoy picked himself up with an effort and Snape supported him as they made their way to the castle.
"You did something, didn't you?", Malfoy observed. "This is another one of your clever spells. One minute I thought I would drop dead with exhaustion and then the Dark Lord arrived and my occlumency walls are tightly and flawlessly in place."
Snape nodded. "It transfers magic from one person to another, apparently including that person's special magical abilities. It was enough to give you some strength and occlumency."
"Wow," Malfoy said.
"And I'm not going to teach you that. It is a very dangerous and potentially dark spell if used against someone. It has the potential to drain all magic."
"Thank you," Malfoy said. "I appreciate that you took a risk. You saved me and my family. I really thought I had breathed my last."
Snape waved impatiently. "Your mind was like an open book. I had to close it to the Dark Lord and there was no time for your usual work around. What did you plan anyway?"
"The only thing I could think about was buying time, preventing anyone from calling the Dark Lord and hope you would come up with something." He shook his head. "To think that I almost died because bloody Potter spoke the Dark Lord's name and my father was stupid enough to call the Dark Lord."
He laughed. "Probably some bout of insane Gryffindor courage. How could he have been so bloody stupid?"
"How long?", Snape asked.
"How long, what?"
"You cast the scutum on Granger, didn't you?"
"As long as my deranged aunt threw the cruciatus at her. I lost track of time. At first, she didn't even interrogate her. She just wanted her fun." He began to shudder again.
"How long?," Snape asked.
"Half an hour maybe? Not more than three quarters of an hour."
Snape shook his head. "It should not be possible."
By then, he was dragging Malfoy more than just supporting him. They had entered the castle, and were slowly making their way upwards.
"Granger needed her wits about her," Malfoy said. "I told her there would be help. I have no idea how Dobby of all elves came into it though."
"You should not forget that there is a Resistance and that Potter has many friends."
"I could have just told Prudy to apparate them away," Malfoy berated himself. "I should have thought about that."
"Don't be ridiculous. Dobby is a free elf, nobody would ever have believed Prudy to do that on her own accord. You're absolutely exhausted and do not think straight."
"Or if only I had had that vial of phoenix potion, I wasted on that Ravenclaw girl. Or better yet, if I had just taken two vials." Draco stopped in his tracks. "Let's go fetch them now. I'll never be without a batch of Phoenix Potion from now on."
"You are going nowhere but to the Hospital wing, Draco," Snape said.
"You keep saying that, why? I am tired, but I just need sleep."
Snape frowned. "Believe me, Draco, you need the Hospital wing. And you are not going to do any magic until I allow it."
Malfoy tried to get out of Snape's grip, but was too feeble to escape the older man's hold. "What? My mother gave me her wand. I can cast spells."
Snape tightened his grip. "I don't know how you managed to hold the scutum for that long, but it is a miracle that you did not burn the magic out of you. You should know that powerful magic like that comes with a price."
"I could have lost my magic?", Draco's voice rose. "I could have lost my magic because bloody Potter was so fucking stupid, he let himself be caught?"
Snape shook his head. "Let's not make this about Potter. It was your decision to help Granger."
"My aunt could have tortured her into insanity like she did with the Longbottoms," Draco protested, his cheeks suddenly flushed.
Snape closed his eyes. "Draco, I do not blame you for that. I do think that it is nothing short of a miracle though, that Potter escaped with Granger and Weasley and that neither of us were found out."
"Potter has my wand. It was a good wand. I want it back. Stupid Gryffindor," Malfoy muttered angrily, his speech had become somewhat slurred.
"Don't try to get it back, Draco," Snape said. "This might well play into our hands."
He studied the pale boy at his side. "When you have recovered, we can make a plan how we can make the Dark Lord drink this potion. If we play our cards just right, we can even use the fact that he wants to try it out with you."
As if to prove that Snape was right about his exhaustion, Malfoy stumbled again, when they resumed their walk. Since they had apparated, Malfoy's palour had worsened. He looked like a walking corpse, but his cheeks had begun to burn.
"It's not far now. I don't want to summon a stretcher though. Nobody needs to know you are that weak," Snape said.
Malfoy mumbled something.
"O.k. Tell me where the potion and your notes are, and I'll fetch them."
"Potion vials … in cupboard with green doors, the notes … picture of the first quidditch game," Malfoy pressed out.
Snape looked at him, alarmed. "Merlin, you're feverish."
"How could he have been so stupid?", Malfoy said again, suddenly agitated again. "Aunt Bella could have driven her into madness."
He stumbled again. "Should have taken more of the potion. She screamed so loud. I don't even know if the scutum worked the whole time."
Suddenly, Malfoy began to cry.
Malfoy trial, February 2002,
[defence] Madame Pomfrey, could you please tell us how Severus Snape brought the accused to the hospital wing on the evening of March 30th and describe the nature of his illness.
[witness] When Professor Snape brought Mr Malfoy was burning with fever, in tears and very exhausted. He collapsed almost immediately, and he was not able to talk coherently for three days.
[defence] What explanation did Professor Snape give for Mr Malfoy's condition?
[witness] He told me, that he had been subject to the cruciatus.
[defence] What is your professional opinion? Did Mr Malfoy's symptoms match this?
[witness] Fever is not a typical effect of prolonged exposure to the cruciatus. It has been observed though.
[defence] Can you think of anything else that could have led to the symptoms Mr Malfoy showed?
[prosecution] objection. The defence tries to lead the witness toward her own interpretation
[judge] not sustained. She is asking after a professional opinion.
[witness] Fever can have many causes. Professor Snape explicitly told me to prevent Mr Malfoy from using magic though. I naturally concluded overuse of magic then and treated him accordingly.
[defence] How long did it take Mr Malfoy to recover fully?
[witness] three weeks.
[defence] Did he talk in his fever? Could you make anything out?
[witness] He was clearly quite agitated, but his speech was slurred. I think I heard him say the name 'Potter', and 'Granger', and he was mumbling about 'stupid Gryffindors'. None of these really surprised me. Sometimes he would call for his mother, or Professor Snape. Sometimes he would just call out 'No'.
[defence] Thank you. No further questions.
Chapter 32: Excursion to the Muggle world
Summary:
Pansy does some sleuthing...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"I have to be off," Pansy said. "Work." She hugged the whole remaining Granger family and hurried away. Her target was slowly making his way towards the exit of Platform 9 and Pansy had enough time to slip the tracker in the space between her fingers. She jumped through the column mere seconds after him and managed to collide with him on the outside.
"I am so sorry," she exclaimed.
She helped him up, her face hopefully contrite. "Are you hurt?"
Her target shook his head but scowled at her.
"Thank Merlin, I am in a rush, pardon me," she explained. She picked up her pace again. She briefly waved to the Potters and continued her show of hurrying until she had reached a Muggle café two blocks from the station.
There, she went to the loo, changed her appearance to an inconspicuous tourist and ordered coffee. She unbagged the Muggle A-Z London Maps and Walks she had altered to watch out for the tracker.
She had ordered a bagel to go with her coffee and just when she had finished, her wand vibrated in her arm holster. She leafed through Maps and Walks. She easily found the green dot. The uptight pureblood wizard had indeed taken the opportunity to venture into the midst of Muggle London. She smiled.
She paid and left the Café. As auror she had permission to use portkeys whenever and wherever she wanted. She went to a little side lane, picked up a paper cup some muggle had thrown on the floor and portkeyed to another lane that would bring her close to her target. Fortunately, the street was in a part of London that was frequently visited by tourists, so she did not have to change her disguise.
She spotted Fawley when he left one of the shops on the street. He had not bothered to change his look, but his clothing blended well into the city. That meant that it was probably not the first time that the wizard had ventured into Muggle London, an interesting fact in itself. He carried a plastic bag with the logo of the shop he had just left.
Just when he had passed her, he swore. Pansy looked up and saw him fighting with his shoelaces that seemed to have a mind of their own. He murmured something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "…. that mudblood witch."
Pansy buried her nose in her tourist book. She was not surprised to hear that word from him but wondered who he meant. Someone must have jinxed his shoelaces. Could it have been Hermione? The jinx certainly was persistent, because Pansy saw him bending down again at the entrance to the tube station.
She decided not to follow him further. The activated tracker would cause his further journey to be drawn into her map for another hour or so. Time to find out what he had been after.
She changed her tourist look and put on her shy insignificant wife face. She pinched her cheeks to get a bit of a flush, entered and asked one of the assistants in the shop, if her husband had been here. She described Fawley and the assistant's eyes filled with pity. She laughed nervously and told her breathlessly that it was her husband's birthday but that he always ruined it by buying the things she wanted to buy. She had a whole story prepared, not too long to stick in the assistant's memory, but not too short to be unbelievable. If she did it well there was no need for a memory spell.
The assistant told her, that her husband had bought a drone, and led her to the shelf. Pansy suppressed her triumphant smile. Fawley had purchased Muggle devices, and there might be a connection between the money laundering and the Muggleborn attacks. Pansy memorized the name and number on the shield under the shelf, did her best to play distraught that her 'husband' had ruined yet another birthday and left.
She continued down the street. She checked her map briefly and saw that Fawley had left Muggle London. The line that showed his journey ended in the middle of a usually busy street and Pansy wondered if he had disapparated in the middle of a Muggle street. She clicked her tongue.
She found another shop that held the same logo as the one she had been in and there she purchased the exact same drone, Fawley had bought.
She shrunk the item and put it into her purse. She would have to find someone who would explain this to her. She sighed. She knew well that she was competent enough in the Muggle world to pass, but there were many things she did not know. Being ignorant irked her, mostly because she didn't like listening to lengthy explanations. If she played 'woman with no clue fawning over a man who can explain things' well enough she would get her information, but it was not her favourite role.
For the rest of the day, she did legwork. She visited the families of the muggleborns that had been attacked and tried to find residues of the curse carriers. The parents of the girl that had been hit with the easy bruising spell were not particularly cooperative. Pansy did not blame them. To learn that their child had magic had been unexpected, to learn that malevolent curses existed and that they could harm their child did not reassure the parents at all.
Pansy made an effort to gain their trust. At least they were not sceptic about the concept of magic as such, and they allowed Pansy to talk with the little girl. Pansy tried her best not to direct the small girl's statements towards what she wanted to hear, but it was not easy with such a small girl. The little girl did remember a magpie that had come close to her, and the parents confirmed that magpies were not that common in their garden.
Pansy knew it was important to keep an open mind and she wondered if it was a coincidence that the girl was muggleborn. She was so small, and her magic had manifested so early, that the curse that hit her might have been directed at a random muggle. It might have only been an accident, that her manifesting magic had been discovered. Hermione always said, that muggleborns came too late to the attention of wizarding society, since they only appeared in the schools scroll after they turned eleven.
Pansy shuddered. If someone knew how to detect muggleborns and put them under a permanent scutum, they would never appear in the Hogwarts scroll, their magic shut off from the world. They definitely needed to monitor more closely for accidental magic. She wondered if the school scroll should be altered.
Pansy checked the tracker on the map, and Fawley had made another appearance in Muggle London, this time in an inconspicuous suburb. She portkeyed there, changed her appearance to that of an elderly woman and explored the small shops on the main streets. She would have to check in headquarters to learn if and where Fawley had spent the prepared Muggle money. There was no shop like the one where he had bought the drone, but the little suburb seemed to be something like a centre for craft. There was a pottery shop where customers could paint their own pottery, and Pansy saw a few children in the shop who bent their heads over the pottery. It tugged at her heart as always when she saw happy children.
There was a shop for bobbin lace, and a jewellery shop which advertised workshops for handmade pendants and bracelets, mostly silver from what Pansy could see. It all made the impression of being nice and not too cheap, but certainly much below the possibilities and interests of a well-off pureblood wizard. Who would need to make bracelets with Muggle silver wires, when they had Goblin made family heirlooms?
She hopped to headquarters next, and Teddy Lupin, auror-in-learning had already set up the observation recorders for Fawley's money. Pansy was very pleased to confirm that Fawley had indeed bought the drone, and that he had been in the shops in the suburb. He had only bought some animal figurines in the pottery shop. They would get some material from the shops for as long as the pounds stayed in the cash register.
She walked by Harry's office and told him of her success.
"That is fortunate," Harry said. "That means, that we can justify our observation and continue."
The law on observations was rather strict after all. The aurors could observe for a fortnight just with the permission of the minister, but any longer observation had to be justified in front of the wizengamot after twenty weeks. Fawley's purchase meant that he was under suspicion and could be observed longer.
"I am off then," Pansy told Harry. "Neville will be home by now."
"Remember not to tell him any names. He is not our colleague any longer."
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Sure, Boss." Sometimes Gryffindors were not very realistic in their expectations. Did Harry really think Neville would not know who she was talking about just because she left out names?
"Did I spy Ron this morning at the platform?", she asked Harry.
"Yes, he wanted to see Richard off."
"How lucky you happened to stand at the exact other end of the platform," Pansy grinned.
"Luck has nothing to do with it. Ginny insisted. She didn't even hide the fact that she and Hermione agreed on where we would stand. Since we are the family who is always barely on time, we had to stand close to the exit." Harry made a futile attempt to tidy his hair. "In addition, she made Ron promise to behave."
Pansy laughed. "Ginny is a force in herself."
Harry nodded, a proud smile on his face.
Notes:
So, hopefully, this will get us closer to unravel the mystery. If you feel inclined to guess at what is up with the muggleborns, please do so. I always appreciate comments!
Chapter 33: Bill and Fleur's cottage (March 31, 1998)
Summary:
Hermione was rescued by Dobby, and now stays at Bill and Fleur's cottage and tells everyone about how she was saved from being tortured, but nobody believes her.
Notes:
This is a very crucial chapter. It is all a question of what to believe after all.
Chapter Text
Hermione clearly wished Fleur would not make such a fuss about her. She pressed the cloth with murtlap essence on her arm herself and brushed the other witch away.
"I'm fine, really, I'm fine," she repeated over and over, her croaking voice belying the fact.
"Hermione, that mad woman tortured you for more than half an hour, there is a wound at your arm, you are not fine," Harry almost shouted at her. He felt guilty, guilty about the ordeal Hermione had to get through, guilty about Dobby's death. His own voice didn't sound like his own from crying. If only he had not spoken Voldemort's name. They had been so lucky to escape.
"I was perfectly safe," Hermione said. "I didn't feel a thing."
"Perfectly safe?", Ron asked incredulous while Harry told her that she had become hoarse from all her screaming.
"I had to scream, or Bellatrix would have realised that Draco shielded me."
"Draco?", Ron asked. "Draco? Since when is he Draco? He threw you on the floor, probably wanted to see you tortured, Hermione!"
"Are you claiming that Malfoy of all people put a shield on you?", Harry wanted to know.
He and Ron exchanged a worried look.
"Hermione, there is no shield charm that works against an unforgivable," Bill chimed in.
Hermione scoffed. "Well, there obviously is one now."
"And what charm is this?"
"Well, Draco obviously had to cast the shield non-verbally. And just before he threw me on the floor, he whispered in my ears. He told me to buy time and to scream, that help was on the way, and Dobby came."
Ron looked at Hermione with round eyes, astonished.
Harry was very worried. "Hermione," he said. "I called for help. Dobby came because he had a connection to Sirius' mirror."
Hermione blinked at him. "You mean, Draco did not call Dobby?"
"Why should he or why should Dobby come if he called? Dobby didn't belong to the Malfoys any longer? He was a free elf?" Harry exchanged another look with Ron. Was it possible, that the cruciatus curse warped up the victim's memory? Had Hermione forgotten that Dobby owed no allegiance to Malfoy?
"Malfoy wanted to sell us to You-know-who," Ron said.
"No, Draco didn't want to call him, remember?" Hermione answered. "He clearly recognised Harry."
"He was uncertain, you had hit me with that stinging hex after all," Harry said.
Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron flushed.
"Harry," she said in her explanatory voice that riled him up even on his better days. "Draco has been our classmate for six years. We three were together most of the time. Skeeter called us the 'Golden Trio'. Do you really think, he would not guess, that it was you, when he saw Ron and me?"
"There you did it again," Ron said. "Why is he Draco now? The ferret just didn't want to risk You-know-who's wrath if Harry hadn't been Harry, coward that he is."
"Why would he promise help then? Why would he protect me?", Hermione asked.
Her eyes flashed in anger and her cheeks were flushed. "And I can call him Draco when he did his best to save me from the Longbottoms' fate. If You-know-who finds out what Draco did, he'll kill him."
Harry could see the worry in everybody's face. Bill shook his head, Luna stared wide-eyed, and Ron's face was a mixture of anger and deep anguish. Harry took her hand. "Hermione, please calm down. You've been through a lot."
Tears welled in Hermione's eyes, and for a moment, Harry thought, that she understood what had happened. That she realized that everything had been blurred in her head.
How she had endured the curse for over half an hour he had no idea. Had she fantasized that the boy whose face was familiar had promised her help instead of watching how she was tortured? He patted her hand awkwardly, not knowing how he could show his worry without upsetting her further.
"Why don't you believe me?", she cried. Fat drops rolled down her cheeks. She pressed the cloth to her arm as if she wanted to permanently stick it to the wound on her arm.
"Hermione," Bill said in a comforting deep voice. "Prolonged exposure to the cruciatus plays tricks on the mind."
Hermione hiccuped. "Or I just wasn't exposed to the cruciatus."
She narrowed her eyes. "Harry, you have Draco's wand. We can run priori incantatem on the wand."
In her haste to go for her own wand, she dropped the cloth on her arm and Harry could see how 'mudblood' was carved into her arm in angry red letters. Malfoy hadn't done anything to prevent that.
"Priori incantatem", Hermione said.
Malfoy's wand spattered, as if it did not want to reveal the spells that had been cast with it. It was only after the third repetition, that a bright rainbow ascended from the tip of the wand.
Hermione frowned. "I had expected it to be white. In the moments I saw the spell it looked shining white."
"It certainly doesn't look like anything I know," Harry admitted. The others shook their heads as well.
"Anyway, whatever happened, you need to rest, Hermione," Ron said. He came to her side and handed her a tissue.
"You all need to rest," Bill said.
Hermione had taken the tissue from Ron and dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. "At least, we learned something very important."
"What?", Harry asked.
"There is something of great value in the Lestrange's vault at Gringotts. Something You-know-who gave Bellatrix for safekeeping. That is why she freaked out about the sword – which is supposedly in her vault as well."
"It must be a copy," Ron said.
"We'll talk about that after we've had a rest," Harry decided. The horcrux hunt was their task and he would not pull Luna, Bill or Fleur into it.
"Please, Hermione, rest," he said, pressing her hand.
Fleur gave Hermione a fresh cloth and then they all left her.
"Pleaze call, if you need zomething," Fleur said before she closed the door. Hermione was already laying on the bed, her eyes closed. She nodded.
Harry and the others went to the kitchen where they were served tea and sandwiches, and Bill distributed towels for all.
After he had arranged his own bed, Harry tiptoed to Hermione's room. He cracked the door open quietly, not wanting to wake his friend. Hermione sat on her bed, her back to Harry, bent over Malfoy's wand in her hand. She waved her own wand, not making a sound. Multiple spell residues came out of the tip of the wand, first the rainbow, a spell that lasted for a while, then others, insignificant spells, a razor spell, a hairdressing spell, the greyish hue of apparating. Harry flinched, when the dark turquoise of the cruciatus spell appeared, but not because he was surprised that Malfoy had used it, but because Hermione stopped the string of spells, and began to sob, biting her hand in an attempt to suppress the sound.
He entered and laid his arm around Hermione's shoulders. She had dropped both, her own wand and Malfoy's. She just sobbed for a while and Harry held her. Harry did not understand why she would shed tears over something she must have known. Malfoy was a death eater, of course he had cast unforgivables.
Still, now was not the time to fight about whatever Hermione thought Malfoy had done. Her fear was well-founded in any case. Lucius Malfoy had called Voldemort and Harry was quite certain that the Malfoys would be punished for their escape.
He almost felt sorry for his enemy. Hermione thought that he had not identified Harry to help them, Ron thought it had been cowardice or maybe caution. Harry tended to agree with Ron, but whatever the reason, Malfoy's failure to identify Harry had saved his life and it might well cost him his.
Chapter 34: The Common Room
Summary:
Colin is back at Hogwarts and launches into research... He really wants to tackle the question why muggle myth about elves is so different.
Notes:
Quarantine gives me plenty of time to write... And I'm in a flow... So have another chapter.
Hope you like it.
Thank you to all my steadfast readers and commenters.
Chapter Text
The very first thing Colin did, when they had arrived at Hogwarts was to go to the library, even before he had unpacked. Mr Fillingham greeted him with a smile and offered to help him with his research, since no other students were there yet.
There were only a handful of books on house elves and Mr Fillingham laughed outright when he filled in the cards for Colin to take the books with him.
"Why do you laugh?" Colin asked.
"Look, who was the last person who borrowed these books!" Mr Fillingham answered. Colin saw his mother's name.
He shook his head. "Why is it that nobody has an interest in house elves? I would have thought that after the house elf rebellion there would have been at least some research."
"Oh, that is all in the restricted section." Mr Fillingham said. "To see them you have to make a project out of it and get some teacher's signature."
Colin was disappointed. If his mother had already read all the books, it was highly unlikely that he would find anything he did not know already. Maybe uncle Neville would sign him a permit, even though house elves had no connection to Herbology.
He put the books in his bag and made his way back to the Gryffindor tower. He was deep in thought and almost lost his footing after rounding a corner. It felt as if he had walked into someone and he opened his mouth to apologize, but there was nobody. Colin shook his head. He probably had just stumbled over a lump on the floor.
He gave the Fat Lady the password and entered. There was a loud discussion going on in the common room. Everyone was talking about how the house party was apparently ruined. David Finnigan and Jane Fletchley stood in the middle of the room. David had his arm crossed.
Colin wondered what the ruckus was about. He was not very interested in the house party which he always tried to avoid. He tried to squeeze past the others and to reach his dorm. He accidentally bumped into one of the girls form sixth year and apologised.
She looked at him very strangely, and somehow just around him everyone fell quiet. Colin squirmed under what felt like a myriad of scrutinizing eyes. He could not sort out what this meant. He thought he saw pity in some eyes, and irritation in others. He smiled vaguely in the attempt to deflect the unwanted attention.
David had realised that the room had fallen silent and used it to announce: "You heard Professor Longbottom. Our head of house has spoken! Jane and I will think about doing the party in another way."
David scowled at everyone and held their gazes. His eyes met Colin's, and his scowl vanished. He nodded shortly at Colin. Colin nodded in return, although he had no idea, what this was all about. He wondered, if he should ask someone, but with so many eyes on him, he decided against it. This was just about the house party after all.
The Gryffindors mumbled and muttered, but David's announcement was accepted, and they scattered and more importantly stopped to look at Colin. He took the opportunity to drop his books in his dorm and then he searched out his favourite spot at one of the windows. He took his pencil and began to sketch and soon the common room's atmosphere was back to normal and everybody ignored Colin, which was fine by him. Richard Weasley and James Potter were nowhere in sight. He could almost be happy.
He had drawn for some time, when he heard a very soft 'plop' at his side.
"Hi Prudy," he said, even before he had looked up. The little house elf had materialised at his left elbow and looked curiously at his sketches.
Colin looked at her and smiled. "Dad sends his regards. You can come over for tea on your next free Saturday, if you want. Dad will try some new baking recipes."
Prudy settled down on the windowsill. "That depends on the recipes," she said.
"Dad catered for a Christmas party for a German firm and he wants to try out some German biscuits."
"Biscuits are fine," Prudy said.
"What is this?" She pointed at Colin's sketch book.
Colin told her about 'Lord of the Rings' and the elves in Tolkien's world. He could have sworn Prudy's ears grew more pointed when her interest was piqued.
"You don't happen to have any idea about why elves are so different in Muggle literature."
Prudy gave something between a headshake and a nod.
Colin frowned. "Well, do you have an idea or not?"
"Not an idea," Prudy said, her voice sounded somewhat strained. Colin wondered why she was uneasy.
"I certainly think, it is interesting, and I want to do research on it."
Prudy nodded vigorously.
"You won't find much, I am sure. And the things you find… you should not take everything at face value," she said.
"Have any house elves written about themselves or elf history?" Colin asked.
"No, we weren't allowed. There are just the stories we tell amongst ourselves."
"Oh," Colin was excited. "Can you tell me these stories?"
Prudy shook her head. "No, I can't. These stories are taboo. Even I dare not tell them, although the particular conditions of my liberation give me more possibilities."
Colin was taken aback. "Taboo? Why? And what do you mean particular conditions?"
The little elf squirmed uneasily, and Colin decided to let it drop.
"Why do you talk differently, Prudy?" he asked her.
"What do you mean?"
"You do not talk like other elves. Like talking about yourself in the third person and all that. You know, I never would even have realised this, but dad observed that, when we talked about elves."
"I've been free for more than two decades. And unlike other elves I have no magical working contract. I have a real job."
"And your freedom influences your speech."
Prudy nodded. "I think it is a great idea, that you want to look into elf history."
"Really?", Colin asked. "You know, everyone else but Rachel and my mmm seems to think I am nuts."
"Yes, wizards and witches have not been encouraged to have interest in house elves."
Prudy fell silent and studied his sketches, a look of intense interest on her face that almost frightened Colin. A shadow fell on Colin's paper. Jane Fletcher stood at his side and tried to get a glance at his sketch.
"Colin," she asked. "Can I ask you something?"
Colin nodded warily. He barely had any contact to Jane. He was tempted to cover his sketch but decided against it. Prudy didn't think this was a waste of time.
"How the heck did your father survive all that?"
Colin blinked. He had no idea, what made Jane ask that.
"You know about the scutum, don't you?", he asked. "I think the second war against Voldemort is a subject in fifth year?"
Jane nodded and Colin shook his head, trying to hide his irritation. "NINO. Nothing in, nothing out. So, the answer to your question, is, quite obviously, that Severus Snape is the reason my father survived."
Jane exhaled loudly, her look puzzled.
Colin frowned. "So, if this is about the long running debate whether Snape or Dumbledore was the greater wizard you can jot down my vote on Snape's side. And I don't care that he was in Slytherin."
"I wonder, how you can be so equanimous about all that. Isn't this all incredibly weird to you?"
"Jane, my last name is Granger-Malfoy, I can assure you that 'weird' does not even come close."
Jane laughed loudly at that. "I guess you are accustomed to weirdness."
Colin did not think it had been that funny, but he smiled at Jane. It might be a good idea to have another prefect besides David who was not entirely opposed to him.
His smile faltered though, when he saw Richard and James, coming towards him with determined strides. He tried to make a mask of his face, just the way he had seen his father do. He thought about what his mum and his dad had told him, how he could do this.
Jane stayed were she was.
"Malfoy," James said.
Jane frowned, and Colin could feel Prudy patting his arm.
Their presence made him bold.
"Colin Granger-Malfoy," he said and gave James and Richard a mock bow. "Son of a death-eater, inept at flying, swot, and you don't know why I'm in Gryffindor. Save your breath, Potter. I've heard it all, many times."
James looked at his feet and Richard flushed.
"Look…" James began.
"I am the son of the weasel king," Richard burst out.
Colin blinked.
"Just so, that you, as well, don't have to waste your breath." He almost smiled.
Colin was at a loss.
"Look," James began again. "My mum told us that she will hex us from here to eternity if we do not manage to behave better than – how did she put it – stupid men who think it is a good idea to get into a brawl."
"And I always do as Aunt Ginny tells me," Richard added.
"So, what is this supposed to be?" Colin asked.
"A truce, I guess?", James answered.
Colin was not sure, if he trusted them. He looked at them, suspicions boiling inside. But would they prank him with a prefect as witness?
He looked at Jane, but she seemed as surprised as he was.
"O.k.," Colin said. "I guess." He could almost hear his parents in his head. 'Benefit of the doubt', a concept Colin was well acquainted with.
He was not sure, if they should shake hands to seal the deal, but Richard and James had already turned.