The Grey Wizards and the Gryffindor Confusion
Hermione led the way into the Potions classroom, expecting fully that the small group of Gryffindors following her had their wands at the ready in anticipation of this unknown gathering.
She hated that it was so difficult to trust their fellow students just because of their house association, when realistically she felt that most of the Slytherins hadn’t done anything truly evil. Joining the Inquisitorial Squad wasn’t their finest moment, but when it came to the start of a war Hermione believed her peers would do the right thing.
The snakes were cunning, but not heartless. Not all of them, anyway.
Angelina Johnson was the last through the door, and she pulled it closed. Harry looked round in confusion; about fifteen Slytherins had gathered, but Snape was absent.
“Professor Snape was called to the Ministry,” announced Malfoy. “We’re all to wait for his return.”
Harry exchanged a glance with Ron. Did the Order call Snape to the Ministry, or did the Death Eaters? Which side would Snape fight on? What if he had to directly fight one of the Order? Would he keep his cover as a spy if it meant having to hurt one of theirs?
Distractedly, Harry wondered what the Potions Master had done with Umbridge. Would she be put on trial? Would Fudge try and find a way to blame the whole thing on Snape somehow? Or Dumbledore? Or even Harry?
He tried to shake his insecurities out of his head as he took inventory of the Potions classroom. The Slytherins were mostly seated on desks, but Malfoy remained standing in his superior way, looking down on Hermione who was a full foot shorter. He sneered at the Gryffindors behind her who held their wands tightly, remaining alert in the unsupervised presence of the snakes.
“We’re not here to duel, so you can put those away and save all the fancy spells you learned in your illegal Defence group.”
“Like you lot don’t know all the latest and greatest Dark spells,” Ron retorted. “Bet you all spend Saturday nights teaching your first-years the best torture hexes–”
“We don’t need to,” Malfoy drawled. “Between lessons and standard tutoring, we actually learn everything we need, so we don’t have to run to Saint Potter for special help!” Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.
Hermione looked confused.
“But I thought Professor Snape would’ve started teaching you all Defence this year since Umbridge was so unreliable–”
“Just ‘cause you waited ‘til this year to train yourselves in Defence it doesn’t mean it took US this long,” Malfoy sneered at Hermione. “Slytherin has been self-taught in Defence ever since that idiot Lockhart was hired! Difference is, we were smart enough not to get caught.”
Harry made an angry fist and took a step forward, but Hermione retorted first, “If you’re so well-trained, then how come Harry and I still beat you on every Defence exam, Malfoy? Besides, you obviously kept your training sessions selfishly within Slytherin, but WE reached out so others could learn with us–!”
“Not to us, though,” Theodore Nott spoke up.
Harry looked past Malfoy’s shoulder at the other Slytherin in surprise; he didn’t think he’d ever heard Nott speak before.
“It didn’t occur to you that we might also need assistance, did it?” Nott asked quietly. “We Slytherins are known to be cunning, and we might have a house-wide affinity for Potions, but we’ve never been particularly good at Defence Against the Dark Arts. Even with extra help from our older housemates … you’re correct, you and Potter still beat us every year.”
Hermione seemed equally surprised that the silent Slytherin had spoken at all, much less about such a sensitive topic. She hadn’t forgotten her strange encounter with him at the end of last year, but there were more important things to think about now.
“I won’t argue – we didn’t consider asking you to join given that you lot make up the majority of the Inquisitorial Squad!” she replied smartly. “At what point could we have realistically believed you’d choose US over Umbridge?”
“At this point.”
It wasn’t Nott who replied but the Head Boy, Miles Bletchley. Harry knew him from Quidditch but had never spoken to him off the pitch. He was built something like Malfoy, but with brown hair and a pinched expression that made him look chronically suspicious.
Bletchley stepped forward and faced Hermione with his arms folded, studying her. As a prefect she was already acquainted with him, but they didn’t exactly socialise outside patrols.
“We were gonna wait for Professor Snape to return, but I doubt we can keep the peace in this room without explaining the situation,” Bletchley said. “Fact is, we have a proposal for you.”
A few eyebrows went up.
“Despite being only sixteen, Granger, I have a feeling you’re the best choice to speak for the Gryffindors?”
Hermione shook her head and looked sideways at Harry.
But Harry bit his lip, unsure. He was comfortable enough running the DA but being wrong about Sirius’ capture made him second-guess his value as a tactician. The last thing he wanted right now was to lead his friends on a wild Niffler chase.
Given that Ron was even more prejudiced against the Slytherins than Harry, there was no doubt who had the ability to choose logic in a mixed crowd.
“Yes, Hermione can speak for us,” Harry asserted firmly.
Behind him, Ron, Neville, and most of the other Gryffindors nodded their agreement. Only Tricia Snow and Angelina Johnson seemed conflicted, perhaps because they were older than Hermione, but Angelina nodded too. Hermione’s reputation wasn’t exactly a secret.
Hermione was surprised, but the determination in Harry’s eyes led her on. She took a breath and bravely faced Bletchley.
“Yes, I will.”
Bletchley surprised her by extending his hand.
“I hereby declare for the Slytherins that no curses will be fired in this room, and everyone leaves unscathed. In return, you must listen to our proposal and hold your judgment ‘til we’ve explained everything.”
A few Gryffindors shared uneasy looks, but Hermione seemed comfortable enough with the Head Boy. She extended her hand and shook his.
“On behalf of the Gryffindors, I agree.”
She gave a meaningful look back at Harry and Ron, who tucked their wands away reluctantly.
Bletchley gave a nod. Behind him, Malfoy looked miffed. Whether it was because he couldn’t hex the Gryffindors or because Bletchley had taken over as speaker for the Slytherins, Hermione wasn’t sure, but she was happier listening to the Head Boy. She watched Nott out the corner of her eye; he seemed pleased for some reason.
“It’s a bit of a long story,” Bletchley began. “And it begins with the last war. Specifically, the divide between sides.
“As you know, many Slytherin families sided with the Dark Lord, and this led to extreme bias from the rest of the wizarding world. Our families were all shoved into the category dark wizards, never mind if they actively fought with the Death Eaters or just played along with them to survive. As you can imagine, not every Slytherin family actually wanted to be Death Eaters.”
Ron raised an eyebrow at that, but Hermione nodded.
Bletchley continued, “But what you probably don’t know is that because the Dark Lord was Slytherin himself, he actively sought out the Slytherin families. Most of us didn’t willingly up and join him; instead, he prioritised finding us before any other pure-blood families. He tracked us down and gave us an impossible choice: follow his orders or fight against him and almost certainly die.”
“We already know how cowardly your families were,” Ron started in a fierce voice. Hermione turned and silenced him with a harsh look.
“No, he’s right, it’s an impossible choice, Ronald! Would you have served him if it meant saving Ginny’s life? There were families at stake!”
Ron turned purple. “But Slytherins are s’posed to be cunning! Anything to achieve their ends, right? How come they couldn’t stay away from him? I’ll bet they were HAPPY for an excuse to join up ‘cause You-Know-Who preached all the same pure-blood shite–”
A few Slytherins voices rose in protest. Meanwhile, Seamus loudly agreed with Ron.
Hermione cast sparks into the air with a BANG! Both sides of the room were surprised into silence.
“We agreed to listen!” Hermione announced loudly. “If we don’t leave aside our prejudice, we’re giving the Slytherins permission to be prejudiced right back! This will get us NOWHERE.”
Seamus opened his mouth to keep arguing, but Harry silently shook his head at him.
Hermione huffed and turned back to Bletchley. “Please, continue.”
Bletchley gave warning looks to some of his own irritated housemates before speaking again.
“So, our parents’ Sorting was enough to make the Dark Lord demand their allegiance. And we learned he was wiping out anyone who opposed him, pure-blood or not. Ultimately, for the sake of us – their children – our families were FORCED to follow him no matter whether they agreed with him.
“We all know what happened over the next decade: both sides saw massive bloodshed. Britain had the largest decrease in the wizarding population in over two hundred years, and our numbers weren’t huge to begin with. Death Eater supporters grew, but not out of desire – out of necessity. All the horrible stuff that happened during the seventies proved that the Dark Lord was to be feared much more than the Ministry and Dumbledore–”
“Because he was willing to go to extremes to win – extremes that the others wouldn’t consider,” Hermione murmured with a sympathetic nod. “But, of course, the war ended so unexpectedly, since nobody could’ve predicted that You-Know-Who would be defeated by an infant.”
Bletchley nodded. “Most of us publicly deny it, but Potter was a hero to both sides. If he hadn’t ended the war, the death toll might’ve gone even higher.”
Harry tried to hide his surprise. It never occurred to him that the other side would’ve cared about the population loss, but of course it made sense.
“Anyway, things should’ve gotten better for us after the war ended, but now instead of being singled out by the Dark Lord, our families got singled out by the Ministry. Slytherins have dealt with bias for ages, and it just got worse thanks to the war.” Bletchley’s eyes flickered over to Ron. “Most families who followed Dumbledore wouldn’t trust ANY Slytherin, whether we obeyed the Dark Lord willingly or whether we were just trying to keep our families alive.”
Ron grumbled something unintelligible.
Harry rubbed his wrist, thinking. He’d never heard war stories from the other side; he’d always assumed every Death Eater was happy torturing Muggles and blood-traitors, but surely some must’ve followed Voldemort out of fear or to protect their children.
But did that excuse them? Harry wondered. Were motives during a time of war as important as consequences? How could anyone prove they’d been forced into horrible actions? Was any Death Eater with children possibly excused?
The implications made his head spin. He was starting to understand why Dumbledore hadn’t wanted Fudge’s job.
“Since the Ministry was so scared of Slytherins, plenty of ours were arrested after the war no matter what they did,” Bletchley said bitterly. “My uncle was one. He’d never wanted to be a Death Eater, but he had two kids who would’ve been skinned alive in front of him if he hadn’t accepted the Dark Mark. He never killed anyone during the war, but afterwards he was tossed in Azkaban without a trial anyway. He died in there a few years later.”
Ron paled. Behind him, Alicia sat down hard on a desk.
“And now he’s back. We don’t exactly expect that a wizard-baby-miracle will happen twice, so he’s likely here to stay.”
“You don’t believe he can be defeated?” Hermione ventured.
Bletchley shrugged. “If you got any ideas, we’re happy to hear them, but for now we have to assume he’s sticking around. But the question is, what are WE gonna do? History suggests we shouldn’t trust the Ministry to do right by us, but we’re not exactly thrilled at the prospect of joining the Dark Lord, either.”
“No?”
“During the first war the Dark Lord killed anyone who opposed him, no matter their blood status, and our parents started to doubt that his plans were as honourable as he claimed. But last year when he returned, he swore he wouldn’t do that again. He vowed to protect ALL those of pure blood – unless a pure-blood endangered the rest of us – and his demands weren’t as harsh as they were before. So, most of our parents have agreed to follow him again, hoping he’ll treat us better than the Ministry. They made their decision.”
Hermione frowned. “But … Vol– he didn’t comply with that promise–”
“No, he didn’t,” Bletchley growled. “We THOUGHT he kept his word; we believed the Prophet’s story about Diggory’s death being an accident, but then Potter’s article came out.” He looked at Harry. “We realised if you were telling the truth, then Diggory – a pure-blood – was literally killed just ‘cause he got in the Dark Lord’s way.”
“It’s true,” Harry said softly. Bletchley and a few other Slytherins scowled.
“We hoped you were wrong, but all the other stuff in your article fit,” he said bitterly. “A few of us heard what our parents saw that night, and it all matched your story, except for Diggory’s death … so now we KNOW we were lied to. He was … Diggory was a decent bloke, and just as pure-blooded as most of us. He shouldn’t’ve died.” Various heads behind Bletchley nodded.
Behind Hermione, the Gryffindors who had been viewing the Slytherins with distrust and paranoia had softened. Ron twisted his lip and glanced at his best mate.
“Anyway,” Bletchley said flatly. “Our parents made their choices, and they can’t exactly back out now, but … we don’t wanna make the same mistake.”
Harry looked across at Malfoy, who stood with his arms folded.
“So, what’re you gonna do?” Harry asked boldly. “You lot finally realised Voldemort’s a liar, so you’re here to … what? Fight with the Muggle-borns and blood traitors instead?”
Malfoy winced at the name but shot back, “Look, we– we didn’t even know about all this ‘til a couple months ago, Potter–”
“But youknew he was back!” Harry yelled. “I’ve been trying to convince people all year, and you KNEW I wasn’t lying! So why the bloody hell have you been following Umbridge? She’s right up there with Fudge denying all the claims that Voldemort’s back and they’re making everything worse! They stopped us from learning proper Defence, they tried to lock up Dumbledore, they’re ignoring possible Death Eaters working IN the Ministry, they’ve blamed the Azkaban breakout on the wrong people–!”
“Yes, yes, we know your precious godfather didn’t break them out,” Malfoy countered with a distracted wave of his hand. Hermione frowned, but Malfoy continued, “But like I said, it’s only recently we realised your ramblings after the third task weren’t as mental as we thought!”
Nott spoke up quietly, “We Slytherins are predisposed to align ourselves with the strongest leader. And for most of this year, that was Umbridge. We didn’t particularly like it, but we needed to protect ourselves. Miles explained the Ministry’s bias against Slytherins, so what d’you think might’ve happened to us – to our families – if we’d gone against Umbridge and Fudge? We had no choice but to show support to the Ministry.”
Harry exchanged a look with Ron.
Unfortunately, Nott made a good point. If they’d admitted Voldemort was back when Harry did, the Ministry would’ve probably persecuted them right along with Harry – or worse, accused them of being Death Eaters all over again. And if they’d publicly supported Dumbledore instead, it would’ve gotten them in trouble with their Voldemort-supporting families … they truly HAD been stuck.
A seventh-year Slytherin prefect, Gertrude Rosier, stepped forward.
“It doesn’t matter now though ‘cause Umbridge is on her way out, and Professor Snape said we’ll soon have proof of the Dark Lord’s return. As soon as Fudge admits the truth, we’re effectively at war. We have to act before things get out of control.”
“And what is it you’re hoping to DO?” Hermione asked the Slytherins plainly. She let her eyes move from Rosier to Bletchley and back to Malfoy. “You know he’s back, AND you know he’s a liar. You don’t sound like you want to join with him – are you willing to join us, then?”
Behind her, Ron snorted, but Harry stayed still waiting for a reaction. Collectively, the Slytherins had the best poker faces.
“Sort of,” Bletchley finally said. “You’re right; we don’t want to follow the Dark Lord …” He wrinkled his nose. “But we’re not huge fans of blindly following Dumbledore or the Ministry either, ‘cause we’d become Death Eater fodder pretty damn fast. We don’t want to strictly belong to the Dark or Light, so to speak; we’ve been calling ourselves Grey Wizards. We intend to walk the line where we co-operate with you lot without pissing off the … others.”
Hermione blinked. “How on earth do you plan to manage that?”
“Slytherin cunning,” Malfoy drawled, twirling his wand between his fingers.
Nott clarified, “We represent all Slytherins in our generation that choose to stay Grey. Our parents made their choices, but we won’t let them make ours. We intend to fake along with our parents unless things get out of hand; then we can implement contingency plans to protect ourselves if – when – war breaks out.”
That sounds risky, Hermione thought.
“Our Plan A is no longer valid,” Bletchley said. “We intended to show the Ministry that we’re valuable and willing to co-operate with them. We hoped that when they finally acknowledged the Dark Lord’s return, they’d give us a chance to side with them instead of just grouping us all with the Death Eaters like the last war. But now that Snape has to report the truth about Umbridge, we won’t look any better by having been on HER side. So instead of co-operating with the Ministry, we’re moving to our Plan B: co-operating with you.”
The Gryffindors made a few surprised noises. Malfoy shuffled his feet against the ground; Harry wasn’t surprised the blond wasn’t a fan of Plan B.
“You want to co-operate with us … but you don’t want to actually fight on our side?” Hermione clarified. “What exactly makes you Grey, then?”
“Sides aren’t so easy for us, Granger,” Bletchley said plainly. “You’re Muggle-born which means you can’t be on the Dark Lord’s side, even if you wanted to be. Plus Potter and Weasley, or other blood-traitors … you all can stick to YOUR side with confidence. Most of us don’t have that luxury.”
Hermione bit her lip. She hadn’t thought of it that way before.
“You … you lot actually sound like you want US to win,” Katie said tentatively.
“We do,” Nott answered, causing a few more Gryffindor eyebrows to go up. “Fudge is a fool and Dumbledore isn’t perfect, but history suggests we can count on far less torture and unnecessary bloodshed with them in charge.”
“And since we have insight from … let’s call them family friends, we know a bit about the Dark Lord’s priorities. We can anticipate how the start of the war might play out.” Bletchley added.
Harry sat up very straight.
“You’re willing to share that with us?” Hermione asked cautiously.
Bletchley opened his palms in a sort of submissive gesture.
“We won’t blindly jump into the ranks of Dumbledore’s Order, but Nott’s right. We’ll show preference to your side over his, so long as the other side has no clue. This information is part of our proposal: an offer of allegiance.”
Harry’s mouth fell open.
A Slytherin allegiance with Gryffindor?
A long silence weighted the room.