Fic: Seeds of Hate for bitchet
Title: Seeds of Hate
Author: chthonya
Recipient: bitchet
Character(s): Lucius, Arthur, Molly, Bellatrix and a few contemporaries
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~6500
Summary: Lucius learns some unexpected lessons during his first few weeks at Hogwarts.
Author's Notes: Dear bitchet - you had several really interesting prompts, and I'd have loved to delve into more of them, but this is the plot bunny that bit. Although you didn't ask for this era, no-one ever does, so I hope it's not unwelcome! Herein are a Malfoy, Weasleys, the Sorting Hat, some exploration of thoughts and assumptions and plenty of magic. I hope you enjoy it.
Author's Apology: Please, please, please forgive the mistake with Andromeda. I will endeavour to fix this, but meanwhile please don't let it put you off the rest of the fic, which is focused elsewhere.
Betas: Thank-you to N!
Lucius wished the Sorting would begin.
Father had made it sound so easy to find the right sort of people. The train ride had been easy enough - Father had arranged for him to share a carriage with Edward Nott and the Pucey cousins - but in the crowded and dimly lit chamber outside the doors to the Great Hall it was difficult to tell the difference between children he could talk to (anyone whose house he had visited), those he couldn’t talk to (Mudbloods, of course - though he had to remember to call them ‘Muggleborns’ here - but also the poorer sort of wizarding families) and those who had to be politely tolerated (certain half-bloods whose parents were friends with important people). He thought he was managing it without seeming rude (that was very important to Mother), but he’d be glad to be safe in Slytherin where it would be much easier.
The doors to the Great Hall opened.
He tried not to stare as they were led to the front of the hall - Mother always said that staring at people showed poor manners and staring at things showed poor breeding - but he hadn't expected it to be so big. The whole manor would fit in here!
Well, maybe not the whole manor.
He peered round the girl beside him as the famous hat was brought out to its stool. He knew the song was really for the Mudbloods - anyone who really belonged here already knew all about the four Houses - but he'd never seen a singing hat before.
He recognised the first person called forward. He'd been to some of the same parties as Andromeda Black and her sisters, though they'd never been invited to the Manor; Father said the Blacks could be unstable. Andromeda looked anxious, but very determined, as the Hat was placed on her head. After a long pause, the hat's strange mouth opened and shouted, “RAVENCLAW!”
There was a lot of murmuring in the hall, but it was quickly shushed as the next girl was called forward.
Lucius was confused. Everyone knew the Blacks were an old Slytherin family, so why had Andromeda been put in Ravenclaw? Could the hat make a mistake?
A horrible thought struck him: what if it didn't let him into Slytherin either? But that couldn't happen. He was a Malfoy; he belonged there!
He did his best not to look nervous as the Sorting went on, remembering Father's lessons on how important it was to appear in control. Finally, it was his turn to have the hat lowered onto his head. He gripped the edge of the stool; he was not unused to magical objects, but this one was more important to him than any he had come across before.
“Interesting.” The small voice in his ear made him jump. “You have talent, certainly, and intelligence too, though I sense you are less interested in knowledge than in what you can gain from it. But what it is it that you want to gain?”
Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin. Lucius chanted the word in his mind.
“Yes, yes,” said the voice. “You are loyal to your family traditions, and Slytherin would help you to succeed, certainly. But succeed in what? If you want to serve your family, you'll need-”
SLYTHERIN, Lucius thought desperately.
“So be it. But do not blind yourself to what you might learn outside SLYTHERIN!”
Lucius jumped down from the stool and went to join his house. A minute later Edward squeezed onto the bench beside him. A tall boy with dark hair and a shiny Prefect badge leaned over and offered his hand.
“Henry Baddock,” he said.
Lucius shook. “Lucius Malfoy,” he replied. “I came to your parents' Christmas party last year.” He was proud to remember, though he hadn't really spoken to Henry then; the older boy had been more interested in dancing with the Crabbes' daughter.
“Oh, of course,” said Henry. He introduced them to the others sitting nearby. Lucius was pleased to find he knew most of them: Rod Lestrange, a second year who Lucius had met at a wedding the year before, though he had been busy then looking after his younger brother; Emmeline Urquart, another second year who had attended all Lucius' birthday parties; Dolores Umbridge, the other Slytherin prefect, whose family Mother had described as 'rather vulgar'. Andromeda's sister Bellatrix was sitting further up the table. Rod nudged him and pointed.
“Watch out for Bella tonight,” he said. “She looked like she was about to murder someone when her sister went to Ravenclaw.”
Rod was right. Lucius didn't blame her; it would not be easy to live down that stain on the family. He glanced at the Ravenclaw table and was surprised to see Andromeda laughing as if she didn't care at all. Not for the first time, he was glad not to have any brothers or sisters to embarrass him. Clearly, Father was right about the Blacks.
As their plates filled with food, Lucius found himself smiling properly for the first time that day. The hat had been a little strange, but the important thing was that he'd got what he wanted: unlike poor Andromeda, he was where he was supposed to be.
**
Lucius watched the staircase creak towards him and tried to make out what was at the top. Henry had said that he had to go up the first staircase and turn right, but there wasn't anywhere to turn right, and he wasn't sure whether he was on the wrong level or whether the previous staircase had turned him around somehow. He still had five minutes to get to his first class, but he really, really didn't want to be late.
“Oh, hello... Lucius, isn't it?” He turned. A red-headed girl had appeared in a corridor behind him. Molly Prewett, he remembered: she'd come to Mother's teas once or twice since her fourteenth birthday last year.
“Hello, Molly”, he said politely.
She smiled at him. “It's a bit daunting on your first day, isn't it? Do you know where you're going?”
“Yes, thank-you.” Molly may have been from a good family, but he wasn't about to ask a Gryffindor for help.
“Oh, that's good.” She pulled a watch out of her pocket. “What's your first class?”
Lucius checked his timetable, just to be sure. “Charms.”
“Charms? I'm going near there. Can I walk with you?”
“If you like.” He smiled at her to cover his uncertainty. He didn't know why she was being so friendly, but he was sure there was nothing wrong with being seen with a Prewett, especially since Mother had invited her to the manor.
And it was a relief to arrive at his class on time.
**
Lucius gradually got used to the sheer size of the school over the first week. He still found it strange to share a room, but at least he'd learned which portraits gave accurate directions (and were usually awake), and which statues he should pass on the way to his classes.
The classes themselves were disappointing. Father had ensured he was well prepared, but sharing lessons with children who knew nothing about magic meant going over material that he'd covered a year or more before. He and Edward - who'd had the same tutor - often ended up sitting at the back of the class, watching the other students and rolling their eyes at each other. Their spellcasting may not have progressed much, but they were getting very good at hangman.
The first flying lesson was by far the worst. They weren't even allowed to get onto their brooms until everyone had one in their hand, and that took almost half the lesson. Then when they'd finally been given the order to hover, one of the Gryffindors had panicked and it had taken the rest of the lesson to talk her down.
“That was stupid!” Edward fumed as they stomped back to the castle. “Why should we have to take lessons with people who've never even seen a broom?”
“Yeah.” Lucius agreed. “Complete waste of time. That Frobisher girl...”
Edward laughed. “What was her name - Angela? Some angel she'd make if she can't even fly!”
“Why don't you shut up!” someone called from behind them. “Can't you she she's upset?”
Lucius and Edward turned. A red-headed Gryffindor boy faced them, fists clenched. Behind him, the non-flying Angela was snuffling into the sleeve of her robe. Lucius didn't recognise the boy and he knew the girl was a Mudblood: neither of them worth bothering about.
Lucius stood as straight as he could, like Father at his most imposing. “Why should I care if she's upset?” he said. “If she can't fly she should go home. Her kind shouldn't even be here.”
The Mudblood gulped, more tears running down her red cheeks. The Gryffindors glared at Lucius. The red-haired boy stepped forward. Another boy pulled him back. “Leave it,” he muttered.
The red-head scowled. “Just you wait, you stuck-up git! I'll show you why you should bloody well care!”
Lucius stared - had the boy really just sworn at them?
Edward folded his arms. “Oooh, I'm shaking in my shoes.”
With a final glare, the Gryffindors stalked off.
**
Lucius and Edward arrived early for their second potions class. First into the classroom, they slung their bags beside their usual bench at the back and watched the other students file in. The angry Gryffindor from the flying lesson scowled at them as he passed. His robes were almost worn through in places -obviously hand-me-downs. Lucius wasn’t surprised; he was still shocked that the boy had actually used that language in public. Clearly he came from the very worst kind of family.
Lucius hadn’t paid much attention to the register before, other than to note which faces went with the surnames he recognised. This time he watched carefully as Professor Slughorn called out each name. He was almost afraid he had missed it when the Professor reached the end of the list and ‘Bilius Weasley’.
“They certainly picked the right name for that one,” muttered Edward.
“Yes. Do you know anything about the family?”
“Other than the obvious?”
Lucius sniggered - and abruptly stopped when he noticed Professor Slughorn watching them. He sat up straight and listened carefully as Professor Slughorn explained how to make a potion to cure boils.
This was one class Lucius actually had to work at. Though he’d practised with the toy potions kit he’d been given for his tenth birthday, Mother had been wary of letting him near the dangerous ingredients in the manor’s Still Room.
He carefully crushed snake fangs and crumbled nettle leaves into the cauldron.
“Is yours turning yellow yet?” asked Edward.
“I… think so.” Lucius peered at his potion. It was still definitely green, but he thought it was paler than it had been a minute earlier. But not quite yellow enough to take the cauldron off the fire and add the porcupine quills, he decided.
A shadow fell across the bench. Lucius looked up. The Weasley boy was standing over him.
“What’s the matter? Is there actually something the know-it-alls don’t know?” he sneered.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your own potion?” said Lucius. His was definitely getting yellower.
Weasley shrugged. “Mine’s finished. I learned how to make this years ago.”
Edward looked up. “Only because your mother was too poor to buy it.”
“Shut up, Nott. Don’t you insult my mother!”
“You were the one who came over here,” said Lucius. “Just go away, will you?”
Weasley clenched his fists. “Why don’t you make me?”
“Here? Come off it.” Lucius glanced at Professor Slughorn, who was helping a girl at the front of the room.
“Where, then? Or are you chicken?”
Lucius stared at him. “What? Why would I bother-”
“Sunday, after lunch, behind Greenhouse Two,” snapped Edward. “Now get lost.”
“Fine,” said Weasley. As he turned, he bumped into Lucius - just as Lucius snatched his furiously-bubbling cauldron off the flame. Bright yellow potion sloshed onto the bench, splashing over Lucius’ robes and dripping onto his shoes.
Lucius yelled in pain and fury. “You stupid idiot! What do you think you’re DOING?”
The spilled potion disappeared; Lucius’ robes were suddenly dry, but his hand still stung. “Now, now, boys,” said Professor Slughorn, tucking his wand into his pocket. “What’s going on here? Had a little accident, have we, Mr Malfoy?”
“He pushed me,” Lucius protested.
“No I didn’t,” said Weasley. “I can’t help it if you’re clumsy.”
“You did,” said Lucius. Professor Slughorn was a practically a friend of the family; he had to know he wasn’t lying.
“But isn’t your bench over there, Mr Weasley?” asked Professor Slughorn. “What are you doing back here?”
Weasley edged backwards towards his place. “Well, Sir, I finished and…”
“You did? That’s excellent! But next time, just stay by your cauldron. I’m afraid I’ll have to take ten points from Gryffindor for disturbing the other students. Mr Nott, kindly take Mr Malfoy up to the hospital wing; Nurse can give him something for his hand.”
Lucius was seething as they left the classroom. Ten points for causing a dangerous accident? And praise for finishing quickly? It wasn’t fair.
But then Father said that sometimes you had to make things fair. Perhaps this was the sort of thing he meant.
Just wait until Sunday, Weasley, he thought. Just you wait…
**
The following Saturday was warm and sunny, and Lucius and Edward took advantage of it by heading out to the Quidditch shed just after breakfast. They weren’t the only ones, but they managed to find two of the least-bad school broomsticks, and were soon high in the air, soaring over the grounds and chasing each other round the castle towers.
After dinner, they sat in the common room, munching sweets that Edward’s mother had sent and writing letters to their parents. Lucius had promised to write each week, and had soon covered two feet of parchment. But when he read it over, he wasn’t sure he should send it. At home, he’d have told Mother and Father all about how bored he was in class and how mean Weasley was, and Father would have told him how to deal with it, but written down it looked like a two-foot moan. He threw the letter in the fire and wrote a shorter one, telling his parents how well he was doing in lessons, how he was making friends with the right people, and how Professor Slughorn sent his regards.
On their way back from the Owlery, they heard some strange music echoing down one of the corridors near the kitchen.
Help, I need somebody,
Help, not just anybody,
Help, you know I need someone, help.
They looked at each other, and set off to investigate.
As the music got louder they heard giggling, and when they peered round the door Lucius was surprised to see a group of Gryffindors lounging on cushions in the otherwise empty cellar. He was even more surprised to see that one of them was Molly Prewett.
She caught sight of the two Slytherins in the doorway, and blushed. “Oh… Hello. What are you doing down here?”
“We heard you,” said Edward. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, well, it’s a project. For-”
“Hang on, Molly,” said one of the Gryffindors, who Lucius recognised as Molly’s older brother Fabian, “what happened to that Imperturbable Charm you said you’d learned?”
“But I… Oh. I supposed I should have recast it after Arthur came in. Come on in, Edward, Lucius, and I’ll do it again.”
“But they’re first-years,” said Fabian.
“First year Slytherins,” said a girl Lucius didn’t know.
“Oh, Lucius and Edward are alright,” said Molly, beckoning them in. “I’ve known them for years.”
Lucius wasn’t at all sure he should - or wanted to - go in. But it would be awfully rude to refuse the invitation, and the Prewetts at least were respectable.
Molly’s younger brother Gideon waved them over to a cushion as Molly closed the door firmly and cast her charm. He handed them each a bottle of Butterbeer. Lucius took a sip.
“What did you say you were doing?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine what sort of project involved drinking Butterbeer in the cellars.
“Muggle Studies project.” Gideon grinned. “Susie brought some Muggle beer from home and we’re comparing it with Butterbeer.”
“Is this Muggle music, then?” asked Edward.
The Gryffindor girl, who, Lucius decided, must be Susie, stared at them. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of the Beatles?”
“They’re purebloods, Suze,” said Fabian.
“So are you,” said Lucius. The bottle Fabian was holding, he realised, was definitely not Butterbeer. “And you’re a prefect.”
Molly winked at him. “We won’t tell if you don’t.” She picked up a bottle like Fabian’s.
Lucius was uncomfortable. If Mother knew about this, he doubted Molly would be invited to tea again. And the music - though actually the music would have been quite good, if it hadn’t been Muggle music. The tune was quite jaunty, in spite of the miserable words.
But as he listened, the music sank to a wail and stopped.
“It’s no good, Molls.” A ginger-headed boy stood up at the back of the room. “I thought I could keep the record player going with magic, but the resonances are too strong, even down here.”
“Never mind, Arthur,” said Fabian. “That was a damn fine effort. Come and try some beer.”
Lucius glanced at Edward, who was pursing his lips. He’d seen what was obvious, then: that this Arthur, though taller and thinner, was clearly Weasley’s older brother.
Arthur flopped beside Molly, smiling. He nodded at the two Slytherins. “Who’s this?”
“Edward Nott and Lucius Malfoy,” said Molly. “They heard us and came to see, and I thought they might find it interesting to hear the music.”
And getting them to join the Gryffindors meant that they were unlikely to tell on them, Lucius realised, though Molly’s friendliness seemed real enough.
“Malfoy?” said Arthur. “Are you the Malfoy Bill’s been telling me about?”
Lucius didn’t know how to answer him. Really, it was terribly rude of Arthur to bring up something so awkward at a social gathering, though having met Bilius that didn’t surprise him. “Probably,” he said at last. “There aren’t any other Malfoys here.”
“Well, you just leave him alone, you hear?”
“Arthur!” Molly hissed.
Lucius just shrugged, as if he wasn’t about to wipe the floor with Arthur’s little brother the next day. As soon as was polite, they made their excuses and left.
**
Lucius didn’t eat much for Sunday lunch. He wasn’t nervous, exactly, but Father had always told him not to do difficult magic on an empty stomach. Not that this would be difficult - he’d started learning to defend himself with a wand when he was six - but he’d only duelled for practice before. This would be the first time he’d be defending the honour of his family name.
The small yard behind Greenhouse Two was deserted when he and Edward arrived. They positioned themselves well away from a pile of owl droppings and feathers, heaped ready for use as fertiliser, which was starting to pong a little.
Ten minutes later, they were still the only people in sight.
“Think he couldn’t find a second?” said Lucius.
“More likely chickened out, the little coward.”
But Edward was wrong, for just at that moment Weasley appeared under the arch that formed the entrance to the yard.
“Finally,” Lucius muttered, as he strode towards him. “You on your own, Weasley?”
“Oh, my second’ll be here in a minute,” said Weasley.
“In a minute?” said Edward as he caught up with Lucius. “You’re already late as-”
The Mudblood girl ran through the gate, pushing Edward aside. She was carrying a bucket. Lucius stepped back, grabbing for his wand. But he was too late he couldn’t dodge the contents of the bucket. The sticky smelly stuff hit him; he wiped his eyes and lunged at the girl, but the gloop was covering his wand and he couldn’t get the right movement. The girl dashed back under the arch.
Edward was covered in the stuff as well. Weasley was sneering at them, wand raised.
“You cheating little-” Lucius began.
“Better that than a stuck-up, prejudiced little squirt like you, Malfoy. Wingardium Leviosa.”
Instantly the yard was filled with swirling owl feathers. Lucius tried to wave them away, but the more he moved the more they stuck to him.
“Since you think you need to fly to belong here, we thought you could do with some feathers,” said Weasley. And he walked away.
By the time the feather storm died down, both Lucius and Edward were covered. Retching from the smell, they tried to Scourgify each other but their wands where still covered with the sticky stuff, and they could barely choke out the words. Luckily, there was a tap in the corner of the yard which they could use to wash their heads, hands and feet, but they couldn’t get all the feathers off their robes and the smell was still overpowering.
“We’ll get them.” Edward said. “They’re going to pay for this.”
Lucius nodded. “We’ll make then sorry they even thought about it.”
Hands still sticky, they shook on it.
**
They managed to get back to their room without being seen, but somehow by the next morning the story was all over the school. Lucius determinedly ignored the whispers and pointing in the corridors.
“Is it true?” Rod asked at lunchtime.
Neither Lucius nor Edward replied.
Rod lowered his voice. “You’re not going to let them get away with it, are you?”
“’Course not,” said Edward.
“Yeah, well, if you need a hand, count me in,” said Rod. “Slytherin house looks after its own. They need to learn we won’t stand for this.”
“Thanks,” said Lucius, a little surprised.
That night the three of them huddled beside one of the thick windows that looked out into the lake.
“We need to deal with this ourselves,” said Rod. “They’ll never respect us if we just get them into trouble with a teacher.”
“Definitely not, if all the teachers do is take away a few points,” Lucius agreed.
“Same with the prefects,” said Edward. “Umbridge is such a goody two-shoes she’d probably report us first.”
“And it has to be good,” said Rod. “We need to show them, once and for all.”
“What can we do, though?” asked Edward.
Lucius had been wondering the same thing. Other than basic defensive spells and personal grooming charms that Mother had drummed into him, all he knew was a few basic charms, and… he thought furiously.
“Do you know how to set a Trap Jinx?” he asked Rod.
Rod raised his eyebrows. “A Trap Jinx? No. But I bet Bella does. She knows all sorts of good stuff.”
“Bellatrix?” Edward glanced over to where she was holding court by the fire. “I can’t see her wanting to get involved in a first-year argument.”
“As I said, this goes beyond you two.” Rod grinned. “Don’t worry. I know how to handle Bella.”
This turned out to be more than an idle boast, for the next night Bellatrix joined them by their window.
“So,” she said, looking down her nose at Lucius and Edward. “Rodolphus says you need my help.”
Lucius bristled at her tone, but Mother always said that the way to deal with people who looked down at you - not that many people did - was to treat them the same way.
He leaned back in his chair. “Can you teach us a Trap Jinx?” he drawled.
Bellatrix looked surprised. “Maybe I can, if you can tell me why you need it.”
Lucius shrugged. “Simple. We lure the weasel somewhere he can’t scream for help, trap him and don’t let him go until he takes an Unbreakable Vow never to bother anyone in Slytherin ever again.”
“You what?” He hadn’t told Edward that part of it.
“That’s crazy!” said Rod.
“Well, it would work, wouldn’t it?”
Bellatrix laughed. “I like it: you’ve got potential, Malfoy. So where do we lure him to?”
Lucius pointed at the window. “A boat. He won’t think there’s anything suspicious about it, it has clear boundaries for the jinx-”
“And there are plenty of places to hide a boat along the shore, if we need to,” finished Bellatrix. “Yes, that could work.”
Lucius hoped that last part wouldn’t be necessary.
“And how are you planning to get him into the boat in the first place?” asked Edward. “Tell him there’s treasure in the lake?”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” said Rod. “Gryffindors love that sort of thing. And if anyone needs treasure, it’s the Weasleys.”
“I wasn’t being serious,” Edward protested. “Weasley isn’t stupid enough to believe anything we say.”
“Oh, but we wouldn’t be saying it,” said Bellatrix. She struck a dramatic pose and lowered her voice. “There’s a legend, which may never be written down, that the one brave enough to dive into the middle of the lake during the October full moon will win everlasting respect and riches from the Mer-chieftainess below…”
Lucius laughed. “Come on. No one would fall for that.”
“Gryffindors would,” said Rod. “Think about it: we spread the rumour. We Slytherins, and anyone who’s been in the school for more than a couple of years, know it’s nonsense. The Ravenclaw first-years are clever enough not to be taken in. Hufflepuffs might believe it but wouldn’t have the nerve to do anything, but Gryffindors…”
“Fine,” said Edward. “If you really think it would work, it’s worth a try. And while we’re at it, better say that a Mudblood needs to be there too. Then we might get her as well.”
“So how do we go about spreading the rumour?” asked Lucius.
Bellatrix smiled. “We don’t.” She pointed to a blonde girl near the fire. “Rita does.”
“Rita?”
“Rita Skeeter, gossip queen. Common as muck, but she knows her place, and she owes me a few favours. If you want a rumour spreading, she’s the one to do it.”
**
The full moon was almost a month away, which gave the rumour plenty of time to take hold. One side benefit Lucius was grateful for was that speculation about the Merpeople’s treasure soon held more interest for the student population than did the story of his and Edward’s fight with Weasley. Still, there were enough sidelong glances and giggles aimed their way to make it a very long month, endured only by imagining the look on Weasley’s face when they had him cornered. The one bright spot was the afternoon when Weasley taunted him for not knowing any Muggleborns he could search for the treasure with. Lucius had to fiercely remember the day behind the greenhouse to stop himself smiling. Luckily, Weasley seemed to take his pained expression as annoyance.
Finally, the evening of the full moon arrived. Lucius, Edward, Rod and Bellatrix snuck down to the underground harbour straight after dinner, so they could jinx all the boats and get well hidden before Weasley showed up. It was a long wait before they heard the approach of quiet footsteps and hushed voices.
It was a bigger group than he’d thought. Weasley and the Mudblood they’d expected, but, listening carefully and hardly daring to breathe, he could make out Molly and the elder Weasley, and Gideon’s nervous laugh. Evidently Fabian was either too old for such an adventure, or as a prefect he had to pretend to be.
Gideon and Molly stopped right beside the table Lucius was hiding under, while the others went to choose a boat.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Molly?” Gideon whispered. “We both know this treasure story is a load of nonsense.”
“I don’t think there’s any harm in it,” Molly whispered back. “Bil’s really keen, and it’s probably better for him to find out for himself rather than think we don’t believe in him. I’ve been practicing warming charms if he decides to swim, and you’re strong enough to pull him out.”
“And Arthur asked you,” said Gideon.
“Shush!” There was a scuffling noise; Molly must have backed up her command with a sisterly shove. “Anyhow,” she said primly, “it’s a lovely night for a picnic.”
They moved out of earshot. A few minutes later the hidden Slytherins heard the sound of oars in water as the boat pulled away. They crawled out of their hiding places.
“Now what?” asked Edward.
“Now we remove the jinx from the other boats, and we wait for them to come back,” said Bellatrix.
“Did you hear Prewett?” asked Rod. “‘It’s a lovely night for a picnic’, indeed!”
“Wouldn’t mind a bit of a picnic myself,” said Edward. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”
“As long as it takes,” said Lucius. He only half agreed with Edward’s wish for food. He was getting hungry, but now that their revenge was near he didn’t think he could eat anything. And he wasn’t sure what to think about Molly being there. Molly had been quite nice to him, in her way, and Mother wouldn’t be happy if she heard he’d got her into trouble. Unless, that was, he told her how Molly was getting herself into trouble with her Muggle beer and Muggle music. But he didn’t want to do that unless he had to.
While the others passed around some chocolate that Rod had brought, he sat watching the water entrance to the cave, alert for any sound of the Gryffindors’ return. At last they heard the faint sound of splashing oars, and crept into the shadows to wait.
“…maybe we can try next year?” The younger Weasley’s voice echoed round the cave.
“Yes, Bil, I’m sure we can do that.” Molly sounded as if she was smiling.
“Bit odd how we couldn’t get out of the boat, though,” said Gideon.
“Must be a safety thing,” said Molly.
“That’d be a first,” said Arthur. “Usually they just wait for you to fall in and expect you to learn not to do it again.”
“But it is mainly first-years who use the boats,” said Molly. “Newly arrived first-years. That must be it.”
The boat bumped against the dock. Lucius watched from the shadows as Gideon grabbed the rope and stepped up on the prow - and didn’t step off.
“I still can’t get off,” he said quietly.
“What?” Arthur stood up, making the boat rock dangerously. He reached his hands out above the side of the boat; it looked as if he was pressing on nothing, but nothing wouldn’t budge.
“See?” said Gideon. Despite himself, Lucius was impressed by how calm Gideon was being.
“That can’t be right,” Arthur muttered, investigating the other side of the boat.
“Oh, yes it can!”
Lucius stared as Bellatrix sauntered up to the boat. This wasn’t what they’d planned!
“Bellatrix Black?” Arthur raised his fists. “What the hell have you done?”
“Don’t get stroppy with me, sweetie,” she replied in a sickly sing-song voice. “It won’t do you any good at all. You can’t touch me - and you won’t be able to get off that boat until you’ve promised very nicely never to bother me or my friends again.”
“Not likely,” said Bilius. “In the morning you will be in so much trouble.” Lucius smiled to hear the tremble in his voice.
Bellatrix crouched down. “In the morning, dearie, if you don’t do as I say, this boat and all who sail in her will be hidden well away from here. And there you’ll all say until we have your Unbreakable Vows.”
“Don’t be stupid, Bellatrix,” said Molly. “You’ve had your fun, now let’s call it a night and get back to bed.”
“You stay out of it, bitch!” spat Bellatrix. “You’ve had it coming!”
Lucius and Edward looked at each other.
“What’s that about?” Lucius whispered to Rod. But Rod was watching Bellatrix intently and waved him to silence.
Lucius was getting worried. Perhaps it had been too much to expect the Gryffindors to make Unbreakable Vows, but if Bellatrix hadn’t been so confrontational they might have got them to make a promise that - along with the threat of what could have happened - would have kept the Gryffindors in their place.
“…can’t expect us to do that,” Gideon was saying. “So you might as well let us go before you get into even more trouble.”
“And you might as well save your breath, Prewett. I’m happy to wait as long as it takes.”
“And what do you think that proves?” said Arthur. “You think it shows you’re better than us? You think it makes you powerful?”
“I am powerful,” Bellatrix declared, drawing herself up to her full height. “And anyone’s better than you, you sorry Muggleloving excuse for a wizard.”
“He’s a million times better than you’ll ever be,” said Molly.
“Oooh, you’re sweet on him, are you? I’m sure your family will be thrilled to hear that. I wouldn’t be surprised if they disown you!”
“At least I’m not crazy! You think you can slice up people’s pets and do anything else you like just because of your moth bitten family tree! You’re sick, Bellatrix, and you make me sick.”
“How dare you!” Bellatrix slashed her wand down. A stream of flame arced towards the boat.
The Mudblood screamed. Molly and Bilius beat at the flames as Arthur threw himself against the invisible barrier and fell back into the boat. Gideon stared at the flames, muttering incantations.
Lucius turned to Edward - but Edward was gone.
He looked around frantically for a bucket and saw one in the corner. He ran to fill it but before he could get back to the burning boat he tripped. The water splashed uselessly across the dock.
“No you don’t, Malfoy,” said Bellatrix.
He grabbed his wand and scrambled to his feet. “Stop it! Stop it now!”
“Or what?”
“Or five people will die!”
“Mudbloods and Mugglelovers. Who cares?”
“What’s Molly Prewett ever done to you?”
“Molly Prewett almost got me expelled!”
“Well you won’t be expelled now - you’ll be sent to Azkaban!” Lucius looked around for Rod, who was still gazing at Bellatrix in horrified awe. “Rod!” Lucius shouted. “If you can get through to her, do it now, for Merlin’s sake!”
Rod stared at him for a moment. Then he ran to Bellatrix and grabbed her arms, talking to her rapidly and quietly.
Her shoulders slumped. The flames died.
The Mudblood’s sobbing echoed through the cave.
The three Slytherins ran.
**
Lucius noticed a difference in the other students over the following days. They still nudged each other and whispered when he passed, but now their glances were quickly averted, and he was never jostled even in the most crowded corridor. According to Rita Skeeter, the rumours about what happened that night had spread swiftly but not particularly accurately.
Bellatrix had been the only one the Gryffindors had been able to identify for certain. Her mother’s position on the Board of Governors went some way to smoothing over the incident; after a fortnight in St Mungo’s for appearances’ sake she returned to the common room and a considerably enlarged group of followers, although from what Lucius could see, her sister went out of her way to avoid her.
The Gryffindors had only been able to identify Bellatrix for certain, so all the Slytherins had been interviewed by the Headmaster. Rod had actually admitted to being with Bellatrix, his loyalty to her seemingly outweighing any desire for self-preservation, but as he had been the one to stop her he got away with a warning and a term of washing bottles for Professor Slughorn. Lucius and Edward denied all involvement, and no Slytherin would suggest otherwise.
Lucius had not enjoyed the interview. Professor Dumbledore had piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight into Lucius’ soul, but in the absence of proof Lucius was able to maintain a stony silence. The Headmaster rambled on for a few minutes about how much getting in with the wrong people could harm one’s family, and then Lucius was free to go, a decision that relieved but did not impress him.
He was relieved to hear that the Gryffindors had got away with minor burns, thanks largely to Gideon Prewett’s Flame-Freezing Charm. After a night in the hospital wing they were all up and about, though Rita reported that the Mudblood was issued with a nightly vial of sleeping potion. Lucius had only seen Molly once since. They had not spoken.
About a week after the incident, Lucius was taking a short-cut down a quiet corridor when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Oi! Malfoy!”
Lucius turned. It was Arthur Weasley.
“What do you want?”
“You were there.”
Lucius put his hand in his pocket and curled his fingers around his wand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that, you evil little runt!” Arthur grabbed Lucius by the collar and backed him against the wall. “You were there, and I’m telling you now that if you ever lift a finger against Molly or my brother again I’ll make sure you regret it. I’ve got my eye on you.”
Casting a Revulsion Jinx was simple; Arthur flew backwards in a flash of purple light. Lucius aimed his wand and muttered, “Petrificus Totalus.”
He wasn’t sure what to do now; some threatening gesture was clearly required, but he didn’t know that many jinxes and anyhow he didn’t want to get into trouble when he’d just managed to avoid it.
But as he stood there, watching Arthur watching him from his rigid position on the floor, he could see that he was afraid. The realisation gave him a strange thrill. Arthur didn’t know that he didn’t know what to do. For all Arthur knew, he was pausing to think up some horrible plan; his silence had made Arthur scare himself more than any threat that Lucius could have made.
He crouched down beside Arthur and pressed his wand against his cheek. If he only knew more spells, he could do anything to Arthur now. To know Arthur knew this, and hated him, and couldn’t do a thing about it made him feel almost dizzy with excitement. He didn’t want to hurt Arthur, he realised. He just wanted him to know that he could.
“You’re nothing but Muggleloving scum, Weasley,” he said, “and if you or your cheating coward of a brother ever touch me again, you will pay for it.”
Lucius stood up. Arthur’s wand was lying nearby. He kicked it along the corridor and walked away.
***
Author: chthonya
Recipient: bitchet
Character(s): Lucius, Arthur, Molly, Bellatrix and a few contemporaries
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~6500
Summary: Lucius learns some unexpected lessons during his first few weeks at Hogwarts.
Author's Notes: Dear bitchet - you had several really interesting prompts, and I'd have loved to delve into more of them, but this is the plot bunny that bit. Although you didn't ask for this era, no-one ever does, so I hope it's not unwelcome! Herein are a Malfoy, Weasleys, the Sorting Hat, some exploration of thoughts and assumptions and plenty of magic. I hope you enjoy it.
Author's Apology: Please, please, please forgive the mistake with Andromeda. I will endeavour to fix this, but meanwhile please don't let it put you off the rest of the fic, which is focused elsewhere.
Betas: Thank-you to N!
Lucius wished the Sorting would begin.
Father had made it sound so easy to find the right sort of people. The train ride had been easy enough - Father had arranged for him to share a carriage with Edward Nott and the Pucey cousins - but in the crowded and dimly lit chamber outside the doors to the Great Hall it was difficult to tell the difference between children he could talk to (anyone whose house he had visited), those he couldn’t talk to (Mudbloods, of course - though he had to remember to call them ‘Muggleborns’ here - but also the poorer sort of wizarding families) and those who had to be politely tolerated (certain half-bloods whose parents were friends with important people). He thought he was managing it without seeming rude (that was very important to Mother), but he’d be glad to be safe in Slytherin where it would be much easier.
The doors to the Great Hall opened.
He tried not to stare as they were led to the front of the hall - Mother always said that staring at people showed poor manners and staring at things showed poor breeding - but he hadn't expected it to be so big. The whole manor would fit in here!
Well, maybe not the whole manor.
He peered round the girl beside him as the famous hat was brought out to its stool. He knew the song was really for the Mudbloods - anyone who really belonged here already knew all about the four Houses - but he'd never seen a singing hat before.
He recognised the first person called forward. He'd been to some of the same parties as Andromeda Black and her sisters, though they'd never been invited to the Manor; Father said the Blacks could be unstable. Andromeda looked anxious, but very determined, as the Hat was placed on her head. After a long pause, the hat's strange mouth opened and shouted, “RAVENCLAW!”
There was a lot of murmuring in the hall, but it was quickly shushed as the next girl was called forward.
Lucius was confused. Everyone knew the Blacks were an old Slytherin family, so why had Andromeda been put in Ravenclaw? Could the hat make a mistake?
A horrible thought struck him: what if it didn't let him into Slytherin either? But that couldn't happen. He was a Malfoy; he belonged there!
He did his best not to look nervous as the Sorting went on, remembering Father's lessons on how important it was to appear in control. Finally, it was his turn to have the hat lowered onto his head. He gripped the edge of the stool; he was not unused to magical objects, but this one was more important to him than any he had come across before.
“Interesting.” The small voice in his ear made him jump. “You have talent, certainly, and intelligence too, though I sense you are less interested in knowledge than in what you can gain from it. But what it is it that you want to gain?”
Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin. Lucius chanted the word in his mind.
“Yes, yes,” said the voice. “You are loyal to your family traditions, and Slytherin would help you to succeed, certainly. But succeed in what? If you want to serve your family, you'll need-”
SLYTHERIN, Lucius thought desperately.
“So be it. But do not blind yourself to what you might learn outside SLYTHERIN!”
Lucius jumped down from the stool and went to join his house. A minute later Edward squeezed onto the bench beside him. A tall boy with dark hair and a shiny Prefect badge leaned over and offered his hand.
“Henry Baddock,” he said.
Lucius shook. “Lucius Malfoy,” he replied. “I came to your parents' Christmas party last year.” He was proud to remember, though he hadn't really spoken to Henry then; the older boy had been more interested in dancing with the Crabbes' daughter.
“Oh, of course,” said Henry. He introduced them to the others sitting nearby. Lucius was pleased to find he knew most of them: Rod Lestrange, a second year who Lucius had met at a wedding the year before, though he had been busy then looking after his younger brother; Emmeline Urquart, another second year who had attended all Lucius' birthday parties; Dolores Umbridge, the other Slytherin prefect, whose family Mother had described as 'rather vulgar'. Andromeda's sister Bellatrix was sitting further up the table. Rod nudged him and pointed.
“Watch out for Bella tonight,” he said. “She looked like she was about to murder someone when her sister went to Ravenclaw.”
Rod was right. Lucius didn't blame her; it would not be easy to live down that stain on the family. He glanced at the Ravenclaw table and was surprised to see Andromeda laughing as if she didn't care at all. Not for the first time, he was glad not to have any brothers or sisters to embarrass him. Clearly, Father was right about the Blacks.
As their plates filled with food, Lucius found himself smiling properly for the first time that day. The hat had been a little strange, but the important thing was that he'd got what he wanted: unlike poor Andromeda, he was where he was supposed to be.
**
Lucius watched the staircase creak towards him and tried to make out what was at the top. Henry had said that he had to go up the first staircase and turn right, but there wasn't anywhere to turn right, and he wasn't sure whether he was on the wrong level or whether the previous staircase had turned him around somehow. He still had five minutes to get to his first class, but he really, really didn't want to be late.
“Oh, hello... Lucius, isn't it?” He turned. A red-headed girl had appeared in a corridor behind him. Molly Prewett, he remembered: she'd come to Mother's teas once or twice since her fourteenth birthday last year.
“Hello, Molly”, he said politely.
She smiled at him. “It's a bit daunting on your first day, isn't it? Do you know where you're going?”
“Yes, thank-you.” Molly may have been from a good family, but he wasn't about to ask a Gryffindor for help.
“Oh, that's good.” She pulled a watch out of her pocket. “What's your first class?”
Lucius checked his timetable, just to be sure. “Charms.”
“Charms? I'm going near there. Can I walk with you?”
“If you like.” He smiled at her to cover his uncertainty. He didn't know why she was being so friendly, but he was sure there was nothing wrong with being seen with a Prewett, especially since Mother had invited her to the manor.
And it was a relief to arrive at his class on time.
**
Lucius gradually got used to the sheer size of the school over the first week. He still found it strange to share a room, but at least he'd learned which portraits gave accurate directions (and were usually awake), and which statues he should pass on the way to his classes.
The classes themselves were disappointing. Father had ensured he was well prepared, but sharing lessons with children who knew nothing about magic meant going over material that he'd covered a year or more before. He and Edward - who'd had the same tutor - often ended up sitting at the back of the class, watching the other students and rolling their eyes at each other. Their spellcasting may not have progressed much, but they were getting very good at hangman.
The first flying lesson was by far the worst. They weren't even allowed to get onto their brooms until everyone had one in their hand, and that took almost half the lesson. Then when they'd finally been given the order to hover, one of the Gryffindors had panicked and it had taken the rest of the lesson to talk her down.
“That was stupid!” Edward fumed as they stomped back to the castle. “Why should we have to take lessons with people who've never even seen a broom?”
“Yeah.” Lucius agreed. “Complete waste of time. That Frobisher girl...”
Edward laughed. “What was her name - Angela? Some angel she'd make if she can't even fly!”
“Why don't you shut up!” someone called from behind them. “Can't you she she's upset?”
Lucius and Edward turned. A red-headed Gryffindor boy faced them, fists clenched. Behind him, the non-flying Angela was snuffling into the sleeve of her robe. Lucius didn't recognise the boy and he knew the girl was a Mudblood: neither of them worth bothering about.
Lucius stood as straight as he could, like Father at his most imposing. “Why should I care if she's upset?” he said. “If she can't fly she should go home. Her kind shouldn't even be here.”
The Mudblood gulped, more tears running down her red cheeks. The Gryffindors glared at Lucius. The red-haired boy stepped forward. Another boy pulled him back. “Leave it,” he muttered.
The red-head scowled. “Just you wait, you stuck-up git! I'll show you why you should bloody well care!”
Lucius stared - had the boy really just sworn at them?
Edward folded his arms. “Oooh, I'm shaking in my shoes.”
With a final glare, the Gryffindors stalked off.
**
Lucius and Edward arrived early for their second potions class. First into the classroom, they slung their bags beside their usual bench at the back and watched the other students file in. The angry Gryffindor from the flying lesson scowled at them as he passed. His robes were almost worn through in places -obviously hand-me-downs. Lucius wasn’t surprised; he was still shocked that the boy had actually used that language in public. Clearly he came from the very worst kind of family.
Lucius hadn’t paid much attention to the register before, other than to note which faces went with the surnames he recognised. This time he watched carefully as Professor Slughorn called out each name. He was almost afraid he had missed it when the Professor reached the end of the list and ‘Bilius Weasley’.
“They certainly picked the right name for that one,” muttered Edward.
“Yes. Do you know anything about the family?”
“Other than the obvious?”
Lucius sniggered - and abruptly stopped when he noticed Professor Slughorn watching them. He sat up straight and listened carefully as Professor Slughorn explained how to make a potion to cure boils.
This was one class Lucius actually had to work at. Though he’d practised with the toy potions kit he’d been given for his tenth birthday, Mother had been wary of letting him near the dangerous ingredients in the manor’s Still Room.
He carefully crushed snake fangs and crumbled nettle leaves into the cauldron.
“Is yours turning yellow yet?” asked Edward.
“I… think so.” Lucius peered at his potion. It was still definitely green, but he thought it was paler than it had been a minute earlier. But not quite yellow enough to take the cauldron off the fire and add the porcupine quills, he decided.
A shadow fell across the bench. Lucius looked up. The Weasley boy was standing over him.
“What’s the matter? Is there actually something the know-it-alls don’t know?” he sneered.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your own potion?” said Lucius. His was definitely getting yellower.
Weasley shrugged. “Mine’s finished. I learned how to make this years ago.”
Edward looked up. “Only because your mother was too poor to buy it.”
“Shut up, Nott. Don’t you insult my mother!”
“You were the one who came over here,” said Lucius. “Just go away, will you?”
Weasley clenched his fists. “Why don’t you make me?”
“Here? Come off it.” Lucius glanced at Professor Slughorn, who was helping a girl at the front of the room.
“Where, then? Or are you chicken?”
Lucius stared at him. “What? Why would I bother-”
“Sunday, after lunch, behind Greenhouse Two,” snapped Edward. “Now get lost.”
“Fine,” said Weasley. As he turned, he bumped into Lucius - just as Lucius snatched his furiously-bubbling cauldron off the flame. Bright yellow potion sloshed onto the bench, splashing over Lucius’ robes and dripping onto his shoes.
Lucius yelled in pain and fury. “You stupid idiot! What do you think you’re DOING?”
The spilled potion disappeared; Lucius’ robes were suddenly dry, but his hand still stung. “Now, now, boys,” said Professor Slughorn, tucking his wand into his pocket. “What’s going on here? Had a little accident, have we, Mr Malfoy?”
“He pushed me,” Lucius protested.
“No I didn’t,” said Weasley. “I can’t help it if you’re clumsy.”
“You did,” said Lucius. Professor Slughorn was a practically a friend of the family; he had to know he wasn’t lying.
“But isn’t your bench over there, Mr Weasley?” asked Professor Slughorn. “What are you doing back here?”
Weasley edged backwards towards his place. “Well, Sir, I finished and…”
“You did? That’s excellent! But next time, just stay by your cauldron. I’m afraid I’ll have to take ten points from Gryffindor for disturbing the other students. Mr Nott, kindly take Mr Malfoy up to the hospital wing; Nurse can give him something for his hand.”
Lucius was seething as they left the classroom. Ten points for causing a dangerous accident? And praise for finishing quickly? It wasn’t fair.
But then Father said that sometimes you had to make things fair. Perhaps this was the sort of thing he meant.
Just wait until Sunday, Weasley, he thought. Just you wait…
**
The following Saturday was warm and sunny, and Lucius and Edward took advantage of it by heading out to the Quidditch shed just after breakfast. They weren’t the only ones, but they managed to find two of the least-bad school broomsticks, and were soon high in the air, soaring over the grounds and chasing each other round the castle towers.
After dinner, they sat in the common room, munching sweets that Edward’s mother had sent and writing letters to their parents. Lucius had promised to write each week, and had soon covered two feet of parchment. But when he read it over, he wasn’t sure he should send it. At home, he’d have told Mother and Father all about how bored he was in class and how mean Weasley was, and Father would have told him how to deal with it, but written down it looked like a two-foot moan. He threw the letter in the fire and wrote a shorter one, telling his parents how well he was doing in lessons, how he was making friends with the right people, and how Professor Slughorn sent his regards.
On their way back from the Owlery, they heard some strange music echoing down one of the corridors near the kitchen.
Help, I need somebody,
Help, not just anybody,
Help, you know I need someone, help.
They looked at each other, and set off to investigate.
As the music got louder they heard giggling, and when they peered round the door Lucius was surprised to see a group of Gryffindors lounging on cushions in the otherwise empty cellar. He was even more surprised to see that one of them was Molly Prewett.
She caught sight of the two Slytherins in the doorway, and blushed. “Oh… Hello. What are you doing down here?”
“We heard you,” said Edward. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, well, it’s a project. For-”
“Hang on, Molly,” said one of the Gryffindors, who Lucius recognised as Molly’s older brother Fabian, “what happened to that Imperturbable Charm you said you’d learned?”
“But I… Oh. I supposed I should have recast it after Arthur came in. Come on in, Edward, Lucius, and I’ll do it again.”
“But they’re first-years,” said Fabian.
“First year Slytherins,” said a girl Lucius didn’t know.
“Oh, Lucius and Edward are alright,” said Molly, beckoning them in. “I’ve known them for years.”
Lucius wasn’t at all sure he should - or wanted to - go in. But it would be awfully rude to refuse the invitation, and the Prewetts at least were respectable.
Molly’s younger brother Gideon waved them over to a cushion as Molly closed the door firmly and cast her charm. He handed them each a bottle of Butterbeer. Lucius took a sip.
“What did you say you were doing?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine what sort of project involved drinking Butterbeer in the cellars.
“Muggle Studies project.” Gideon grinned. “Susie brought some Muggle beer from home and we’re comparing it with Butterbeer.”
“Is this Muggle music, then?” asked Edward.
The Gryffindor girl, who, Lucius decided, must be Susie, stared at them. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of the Beatles?”
“They’re purebloods, Suze,” said Fabian.
“So are you,” said Lucius. The bottle Fabian was holding, he realised, was definitely not Butterbeer. “And you’re a prefect.”
Molly winked at him. “We won’t tell if you don’t.” She picked up a bottle like Fabian’s.
Lucius was uncomfortable. If Mother knew about this, he doubted Molly would be invited to tea again. And the music - though actually the music would have been quite good, if it hadn’t been Muggle music. The tune was quite jaunty, in spite of the miserable words.
But as he listened, the music sank to a wail and stopped.
“It’s no good, Molls.” A ginger-headed boy stood up at the back of the room. “I thought I could keep the record player going with magic, but the resonances are too strong, even down here.”
“Never mind, Arthur,” said Fabian. “That was a damn fine effort. Come and try some beer.”
Lucius glanced at Edward, who was pursing his lips. He’d seen what was obvious, then: that this Arthur, though taller and thinner, was clearly Weasley’s older brother.
Arthur flopped beside Molly, smiling. He nodded at the two Slytherins. “Who’s this?”
“Edward Nott and Lucius Malfoy,” said Molly. “They heard us and came to see, and I thought they might find it interesting to hear the music.”
And getting them to join the Gryffindors meant that they were unlikely to tell on them, Lucius realised, though Molly’s friendliness seemed real enough.
“Malfoy?” said Arthur. “Are you the Malfoy Bill’s been telling me about?”
Lucius didn’t know how to answer him. Really, it was terribly rude of Arthur to bring up something so awkward at a social gathering, though having met Bilius that didn’t surprise him. “Probably,” he said at last. “There aren’t any other Malfoys here.”
“Well, you just leave him alone, you hear?”
“Arthur!” Molly hissed.
Lucius just shrugged, as if he wasn’t about to wipe the floor with Arthur’s little brother the next day. As soon as was polite, they made their excuses and left.
**
Lucius didn’t eat much for Sunday lunch. He wasn’t nervous, exactly, but Father had always told him not to do difficult magic on an empty stomach. Not that this would be difficult - he’d started learning to defend himself with a wand when he was six - but he’d only duelled for practice before. This would be the first time he’d be defending the honour of his family name.
The small yard behind Greenhouse Two was deserted when he and Edward arrived. They positioned themselves well away from a pile of owl droppings and feathers, heaped ready for use as fertiliser, which was starting to pong a little.
Ten minutes later, they were still the only people in sight.
“Think he couldn’t find a second?” said Lucius.
“More likely chickened out, the little coward.”
But Edward was wrong, for just at that moment Weasley appeared under the arch that formed the entrance to the yard.
“Finally,” Lucius muttered, as he strode towards him. “You on your own, Weasley?”
“Oh, my second’ll be here in a minute,” said Weasley.
“In a minute?” said Edward as he caught up with Lucius. “You’re already late as-”
The Mudblood girl ran through the gate, pushing Edward aside. She was carrying a bucket. Lucius stepped back, grabbing for his wand. But he was too late he couldn’t dodge the contents of the bucket. The sticky smelly stuff hit him; he wiped his eyes and lunged at the girl, but the gloop was covering his wand and he couldn’t get the right movement. The girl dashed back under the arch.
Edward was covered in the stuff as well. Weasley was sneering at them, wand raised.
“You cheating little-” Lucius began.
“Better that than a stuck-up, prejudiced little squirt like you, Malfoy. Wingardium Leviosa.”
Instantly the yard was filled with swirling owl feathers. Lucius tried to wave them away, but the more he moved the more they stuck to him.
“Since you think you need to fly to belong here, we thought you could do with some feathers,” said Weasley. And he walked away.
By the time the feather storm died down, both Lucius and Edward were covered. Retching from the smell, they tried to Scourgify each other but their wands where still covered with the sticky stuff, and they could barely choke out the words. Luckily, there was a tap in the corner of the yard which they could use to wash their heads, hands and feet, but they couldn’t get all the feathers off their robes and the smell was still overpowering.
“We’ll get them.” Edward said. “They’re going to pay for this.”
Lucius nodded. “We’ll make then sorry they even thought about it.”
Hands still sticky, they shook on it.
**
They managed to get back to their room without being seen, but somehow by the next morning the story was all over the school. Lucius determinedly ignored the whispers and pointing in the corridors.
“Is it true?” Rod asked at lunchtime.
Neither Lucius nor Edward replied.
Rod lowered his voice. “You’re not going to let them get away with it, are you?”
“’Course not,” said Edward.
“Yeah, well, if you need a hand, count me in,” said Rod. “Slytherin house looks after its own. They need to learn we won’t stand for this.”
“Thanks,” said Lucius, a little surprised.
That night the three of them huddled beside one of the thick windows that looked out into the lake.
“We need to deal with this ourselves,” said Rod. “They’ll never respect us if we just get them into trouble with a teacher.”
“Definitely not, if all the teachers do is take away a few points,” Lucius agreed.
“Same with the prefects,” said Edward. “Umbridge is such a goody two-shoes she’d probably report us first.”
“And it has to be good,” said Rod. “We need to show them, once and for all.”
“What can we do, though?” asked Edward.
Lucius had been wondering the same thing. Other than basic defensive spells and personal grooming charms that Mother had drummed into him, all he knew was a few basic charms, and… he thought furiously.
“Do you know how to set a Trap Jinx?” he asked Rod.
Rod raised his eyebrows. “A Trap Jinx? No. But I bet Bella does. She knows all sorts of good stuff.”
“Bellatrix?” Edward glanced over to where she was holding court by the fire. “I can’t see her wanting to get involved in a first-year argument.”
“As I said, this goes beyond you two.” Rod grinned. “Don’t worry. I know how to handle Bella.”
This turned out to be more than an idle boast, for the next night Bellatrix joined them by their window.
“So,” she said, looking down her nose at Lucius and Edward. “Rodolphus says you need my help.”
Lucius bristled at her tone, but Mother always said that the way to deal with people who looked down at you - not that many people did - was to treat them the same way.
He leaned back in his chair. “Can you teach us a Trap Jinx?” he drawled.
Bellatrix looked surprised. “Maybe I can, if you can tell me why you need it.”
Lucius shrugged. “Simple. We lure the weasel somewhere he can’t scream for help, trap him and don’t let him go until he takes an Unbreakable Vow never to bother anyone in Slytherin ever again.”
“You what?” He hadn’t told Edward that part of it.
“That’s crazy!” said Rod.
“Well, it would work, wouldn’t it?”
Bellatrix laughed. “I like it: you’ve got potential, Malfoy. So where do we lure him to?”
Lucius pointed at the window. “A boat. He won’t think there’s anything suspicious about it, it has clear boundaries for the jinx-”
“And there are plenty of places to hide a boat along the shore, if we need to,” finished Bellatrix. “Yes, that could work.”
Lucius hoped that last part wouldn’t be necessary.
“And how are you planning to get him into the boat in the first place?” asked Edward. “Tell him there’s treasure in the lake?”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” said Rod. “Gryffindors love that sort of thing. And if anyone needs treasure, it’s the Weasleys.”
“I wasn’t being serious,” Edward protested. “Weasley isn’t stupid enough to believe anything we say.”
“Oh, but we wouldn’t be saying it,” said Bellatrix. She struck a dramatic pose and lowered her voice. “There’s a legend, which may never be written down, that the one brave enough to dive into the middle of the lake during the October full moon will win everlasting respect and riches from the Mer-chieftainess below…”
Lucius laughed. “Come on. No one would fall for that.”
“Gryffindors would,” said Rod. “Think about it: we spread the rumour. We Slytherins, and anyone who’s been in the school for more than a couple of years, know it’s nonsense. The Ravenclaw first-years are clever enough not to be taken in. Hufflepuffs might believe it but wouldn’t have the nerve to do anything, but Gryffindors…”
“Fine,” said Edward. “If you really think it would work, it’s worth a try. And while we’re at it, better say that a Mudblood needs to be there too. Then we might get her as well.”
“So how do we go about spreading the rumour?” asked Lucius.
Bellatrix smiled. “We don’t.” She pointed to a blonde girl near the fire. “Rita does.”
“Rita?”
“Rita Skeeter, gossip queen. Common as muck, but she knows her place, and she owes me a few favours. If you want a rumour spreading, she’s the one to do it.”
**
The full moon was almost a month away, which gave the rumour plenty of time to take hold. One side benefit Lucius was grateful for was that speculation about the Merpeople’s treasure soon held more interest for the student population than did the story of his and Edward’s fight with Weasley. Still, there were enough sidelong glances and giggles aimed their way to make it a very long month, endured only by imagining the look on Weasley’s face when they had him cornered. The one bright spot was the afternoon when Weasley taunted him for not knowing any Muggleborns he could search for the treasure with. Lucius had to fiercely remember the day behind the greenhouse to stop himself smiling. Luckily, Weasley seemed to take his pained expression as annoyance.
Finally, the evening of the full moon arrived. Lucius, Edward, Rod and Bellatrix snuck down to the underground harbour straight after dinner, so they could jinx all the boats and get well hidden before Weasley showed up. It was a long wait before they heard the approach of quiet footsteps and hushed voices.
It was a bigger group than he’d thought. Weasley and the Mudblood they’d expected, but, listening carefully and hardly daring to breathe, he could make out Molly and the elder Weasley, and Gideon’s nervous laugh. Evidently Fabian was either too old for such an adventure, or as a prefect he had to pretend to be.
Gideon and Molly stopped right beside the table Lucius was hiding under, while the others went to choose a boat.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Molly?” Gideon whispered. “We both know this treasure story is a load of nonsense.”
“I don’t think there’s any harm in it,” Molly whispered back. “Bil’s really keen, and it’s probably better for him to find out for himself rather than think we don’t believe in him. I’ve been practicing warming charms if he decides to swim, and you’re strong enough to pull him out.”
“And Arthur asked you,” said Gideon.
“Shush!” There was a scuffling noise; Molly must have backed up her command with a sisterly shove. “Anyhow,” she said primly, “it’s a lovely night for a picnic.”
They moved out of earshot. A few minutes later the hidden Slytherins heard the sound of oars in water as the boat pulled away. They crawled out of their hiding places.
“Now what?” asked Edward.
“Now we remove the jinx from the other boats, and we wait for them to come back,” said Bellatrix.
“Did you hear Prewett?” asked Rod. “‘It’s a lovely night for a picnic’, indeed!”
“Wouldn’t mind a bit of a picnic myself,” said Edward. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”
“As long as it takes,” said Lucius. He only half agreed with Edward’s wish for food. He was getting hungry, but now that their revenge was near he didn’t think he could eat anything. And he wasn’t sure what to think about Molly being there. Molly had been quite nice to him, in her way, and Mother wouldn’t be happy if she heard he’d got her into trouble. Unless, that was, he told her how Molly was getting herself into trouble with her Muggle beer and Muggle music. But he didn’t want to do that unless he had to.
While the others passed around some chocolate that Rod had brought, he sat watching the water entrance to the cave, alert for any sound of the Gryffindors’ return. At last they heard the faint sound of splashing oars, and crept into the shadows to wait.
“…maybe we can try next year?” The younger Weasley’s voice echoed round the cave.
“Yes, Bil, I’m sure we can do that.” Molly sounded as if she was smiling.
“Bit odd how we couldn’t get out of the boat, though,” said Gideon.
“Must be a safety thing,” said Molly.
“That’d be a first,” said Arthur. “Usually they just wait for you to fall in and expect you to learn not to do it again.”
“But it is mainly first-years who use the boats,” said Molly. “Newly arrived first-years. That must be it.”
The boat bumped against the dock. Lucius watched from the shadows as Gideon grabbed the rope and stepped up on the prow - and didn’t step off.
“I still can’t get off,” he said quietly.
“What?” Arthur stood up, making the boat rock dangerously. He reached his hands out above the side of the boat; it looked as if he was pressing on nothing, but nothing wouldn’t budge.
“See?” said Gideon. Despite himself, Lucius was impressed by how calm Gideon was being.
“That can’t be right,” Arthur muttered, investigating the other side of the boat.
“Oh, yes it can!”
Lucius stared as Bellatrix sauntered up to the boat. This wasn’t what they’d planned!
“Bellatrix Black?” Arthur raised his fists. “What the hell have you done?”
“Don’t get stroppy with me, sweetie,” she replied in a sickly sing-song voice. “It won’t do you any good at all. You can’t touch me - and you won’t be able to get off that boat until you’ve promised very nicely never to bother me or my friends again.”
“Not likely,” said Bilius. “In the morning you will be in so much trouble.” Lucius smiled to hear the tremble in his voice.
Bellatrix crouched down. “In the morning, dearie, if you don’t do as I say, this boat and all who sail in her will be hidden well away from here. And there you’ll all say until we have your Unbreakable Vows.”
“Don’t be stupid, Bellatrix,” said Molly. “You’ve had your fun, now let’s call it a night and get back to bed.”
“You stay out of it, bitch!” spat Bellatrix. “You’ve had it coming!”
Lucius and Edward looked at each other.
“What’s that about?” Lucius whispered to Rod. But Rod was watching Bellatrix intently and waved him to silence.
Lucius was getting worried. Perhaps it had been too much to expect the Gryffindors to make Unbreakable Vows, but if Bellatrix hadn’t been so confrontational they might have got them to make a promise that - along with the threat of what could have happened - would have kept the Gryffindors in their place.
“…can’t expect us to do that,” Gideon was saying. “So you might as well let us go before you get into even more trouble.”
“And you might as well save your breath, Prewett. I’m happy to wait as long as it takes.”
“And what do you think that proves?” said Arthur. “You think it shows you’re better than us? You think it makes you powerful?”
“I am powerful,” Bellatrix declared, drawing herself up to her full height. “And anyone’s better than you, you sorry Muggleloving excuse for a wizard.”
“He’s a million times better than you’ll ever be,” said Molly.
“Oooh, you’re sweet on him, are you? I’m sure your family will be thrilled to hear that. I wouldn’t be surprised if they disown you!”
“At least I’m not crazy! You think you can slice up people’s pets and do anything else you like just because of your moth bitten family tree! You’re sick, Bellatrix, and you make me sick.”
“How dare you!” Bellatrix slashed her wand down. A stream of flame arced towards the boat.
The Mudblood screamed. Molly and Bilius beat at the flames as Arthur threw himself against the invisible barrier and fell back into the boat. Gideon stared at the flames, muttering incantations.
Lucius turned to Edward - but Edward was gone.
He looked around frantically for a bucket and saw one in the corner. He ran to fill it but before he could get back to the burning boat he tripped. The water splashed uselessly across the dock.
“No you don’t, Malfoy,” said Bellatrix.
He grabbed his wand and scrambled to his feet. “Stop it! Stop it now!”
“Or what?”
“Or five people will die!”
“Mudbloods and Mugglelovers. Who cares?”
“What’s Molly Prewett ever done to you?”
“Molly Prewett almost got me expelled!”
“Well you won’t be expelled now - you’ll be sent to Azkaban!” Lucius looked around for Rod, who was still gazing at Bellatrix in horrified awe. “Rod!” Lucius shouted. “If you can get through to her, do it now, for Merlin’s sake!”
Rod stared at him for a moment. Then he ran to Bellatrix and grabbed her arms, talking to her rapidly and quietly.
Her shoulders slumped. The flames died.
The Mudblood’s sobbing echoed through the cave.
The three Slytherins ran.
**
Lucius noticed a difference in the other students over the following days. They still nudged each other and whispered when he passed, but now their glances were quickly averted, and he was never jostled even in the most crowded corridor. According to Rita Skeeter, the rumours about what happened that night had spread swiftly but not particularly accurately.
Bellatrix had been the only one the Gryffindors had been able to identify for certain. Her mother’s position on the Board of Governors went some way to smoothing over the incident; after a fortnight in St Mungo’s for appearances’ sake she returned to the common room and a considerably enlarged group of followers, although from what Lucius could see, her sister went out of her way to avoid her.
The Gryffindors had only been able to identify Bellatrix for certain, so all the Slytherins had been interviewed by the Headmaster. Rod had actually admitted to being with Bellatrix, his loyalty to her seemingly outweighing any desire for self-preservation, but as he had been the one to stop her he got away with a warning and a term of washing bottles for Professor Slughorn. Lucius and Edward denied all involvement, and no Slytherin would suggest otherwise.
Lucius had not enjoyed the interview. Professor Dumbledore had piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight into Lucius’ soul, but in the absence of proof Lucius was able to maintain a stony silence. The Headmaster rambled on for a few minutes about how much getting in with the wrong people could harm one’s family, and then Lucius was free to go, a decision that relieved but did not impress him.
He was relieved to hear that the Gryffindors had got away with minor burns, thanks largely to Gideon Prewett’s Flame-Freezing Charm. After a night in the hospital wing they were all up and about, though Rita reported that the Mudblood was issued with a nightly vial of sleeping potion. Lucius had only seen Molly once since. They had not spoken.
About a week after the incident, Lucius was taking a short-cut down a quiet corridor when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Oi! Malfoy!”
Lucius turned. It was Arthur Weasley.
“What do you want?”
“You were there.”
Lucius put his hand in his pocket and curled his fingers around his wand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that, you evil little runt!” Arthur grabbed Lucius by the collar and backed him against the wall. “You were there, and I’m telling you now that if you ever lift a finger against Molly or my brother again I’ll make sure you regret it. I’ve got my eye on you.”
Casting a Revulsion Jinx was simple; Arthur flew backwards in a flash of purple light. Lucius aimed his wand and muttered, “Petrificus Totalus.”
He wasn’t sure what to do now; some threatening gesture was clearly required, but he didn’t know that many jinxes and anyhow he didn’t want to get into trouble when he’d just managed to avoid it.
But as he stood there, watching Arthur watching him from his rigid position on the floor, he could see that he was afraid. The realisation gave him a strange thrill. Arthur didn’t know that he didn’t know what to do. For all Arthur knew, he was pausing to think up some horrible plan; his silence had made Arthur scare himself more than any threat that Lucius could have made.
He crouched down beside Arthur and pressed his wand against his cheek. If he only knew more spells, he could do anything to Arthur now. To know Arthur knew this, and hated him, and couldn’t do a thing about it made him feel almost dizzy with excitement. He didn’t want to hurt Arthur, he realised. He just wanted him to know that he could.
“You’re nothing but Muggleloving scum, Weasley,” he said, “and if you or your cheating coward of a brother ever touch me again, you will pay for it.”
Lucius stood up. Arthur’s wand was lying nearby. He kicked it along the corridor and walked away.
***