Chapter four – Malfoy the pest and a bargain
Chapter four – Malfoy the pest and a bargain
“Hey Fawley.” The blond caught him on his way back. “You wanna go together after all?”
He was leaning against the corner of the corridor, deliberately casual, his hair loose and pushed back. He had stopped wearing it like a hair gel helmet a while ago. The new look didn’t make him any better. He was still a prick with a pointy face and a smug expression that drove Leighton the bad kind of mad.
“Malfoy.” He nodded in greeting. “I just finished. I’m afraid I don’t have the time to go on patrol now. I have DADA homework left.” Copying the entire chapter seemed like torture. But it wasn’t of course. What Potter had on his hand was. He had detention, everyone knew that. And if it was Umbridge- Well, Leighton believed her capable of horrendous things. One of them was using a blood quill. He studied Malfoy.
“What do you think of the new teacher?” He asked like he valued Malfoys opinion.
“Professor Umbridge?”
“Yes, your family has excellent contacts and you yourself are on the best way up the ministry chain. You must think something.”
Malfoy preened under the compliment. Like he had done anything for their money or position.
“She’s the ministers secretary. Very important persona. If you ever want to join the ministry don’t cross her. Father says to help her out if she asks.” Malfoys smile became cruel. “She’s gonna change things around here. After all she’s actually here to take Dumbledores place. I give the Mudbloods a year before they start leaving the school from their own accord.”
“Ah- Yes. I hope so. If you hear anything or if Umbridge decided on something feel free to talk to me. I’d like to help you, help her.”
He walked past Malfoy who promptly grabbed Leigh by the crook of his elbow.
“Fawley. I- Do you have plans for the next Hogsmeade weekend?”
“It hasn’t been announced yet. So no. But I will volunteer to be on prefect duty.”
Malfoy let go. “Yes. That’s- Me too. Wanted to know who would be there. I need to go.” The blond flushed pink and bolted down the corridor.
“Oh no.” Leighton whispered. It appeared his friends had been right. Malfoy did quiet possibly have a crush. It felt cruel to feel disgusted by that but he couldn’t help the churning in his stomach. He should be willing to exploit something like that, after all Malfoy did have excellent contacts. It was what a Slytherin would do. What a Black would do to claw their way back up the food chain. But Leighton for once decided to think of himself as a Fawley and to let the opportunity slip away.
Not looking after the blond he walked away into the opposite direction down to the dungeons.
The days were repeating themselves, and although he’d passed his OWL’s with flying colours the teachers seemed to think that two years of preparations for the NEWT’s were way to little. He didn’t get out of the library. Caught between learning how to manage his vaults in Gringrotts and the family estate's money, finishing his homework, studying and trying to figure out how life would go after school ended (the dark side, although suspiciously quiet probably wouldn’t rest for forever), he was pretty much chained to a desk. No wonder then that he sat most mornings staring into nothing blearily.
“The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer, killer of thirteen, is currently hiding in London. A reliable source spotted the dangerous man near a wizard facility, which makes the wizarding world wonder, what notorious thing that deranged criminal is planning to do next.” Oretia read out loud. “Wow. As if the rest wasn’t enough. Is it just me or is the ministry trying to link Potter, Dumbledore and Black? It’s all you can read now.”
“Who knows.” Arthur looked over her shoulder, eyes flying over the page. Not finding anything Quiddich related he turned away bored.
Leighton wondered if this could count towards the dark side moving. Black was a Deatheater after all. He was one of the reasons Leighton couldn’t yet link his name to the ancient house of Black, as much as he wanted to. Shoving in porridge he spied over to the Gryffindor table. He’d talked to Potter and since then nothing had happened. He somehow had assumed the boy would jump at the strategic placing that Leighton had. A Slytherin prefect. He was practically sitting at the source when the moves in Slytherin started. But perhaps, and that was likely the case, Potter just hadn’t realized what was slipping by him. After all, the house of the lion wasn’t known for smarts and stealth. Any good strategy by the boy must’ve been based purely on luck. Which made Leighton rethink his plans for alliance. So what? He got on Potters side. Would it truly protect him? Maybe he should think more aligned to resettlement. There were some nice places in France. And his family did have it’s ruts in France. Or Germany. He took lessons in german as a child and maybe he would be able to reuse that knowledge.
Potter sat up straighter, as did his friends, also pouring over a Daily Prophet. Something about seemed to upset them. Was it relevant? Leighton turned away, his eyes ghosting over the rest of the Gryffindor table. Longbottom was sitting alone somewhat away from the Potter and ensemble. He was reading a book, shoulders hunched. He did look more grown up.
“Who’re you staring at?”
Leighton flinched, dropping his spoon. Eva had her face right next to his trying to find the right angle to see what he saw.
“I was spacing off.” He countered, trying to stifle her interest right away.
“I think you were looking over to the Gryffs.”
“I think you got an active imagination.”
“May as well be.” She shrugged. “What did you get in ancient runes?” And with that he returned to his average, mundane day. Until the next day he was pushed out of that entirely. He was sitting with another boring bowl of porridge, when he noticed the entire great hall in a state of disbelieve. Everybody was talking and Daily Prophets were making their rounds around the table. An Owl landed gracelessly in front of Leighton who wrestled the paper out of the holder.
A very unflattering picture (there was no flattering angle for that woman) of Dolores Jane Umbrige greeted him.
“MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER “HIGH INQUISITOR”
“Holy-” Leighton barely avoided a curse, remembering that his official position meant that he was supporting whatever nonsense the ministry had cooked up again. Hastely he began reading, eyes yapping over the page in disbelieve.
“In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “ ‘The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts THE HOGWARTS HIGH INQUISITOR for some time,’ said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley.
‘He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.’ “This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August 30th Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person. “ ‘That’s how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley last night. ‘Dumbledore couldn’t find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she’s been an immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-theground feedback about what’s really happening at Hogwarts.’ “It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of ‘Hogwarts High Inquisitor.’
“ ‘This is an exciting new phase in the Minister’s plan to get to grips with what some are calling the “falling standards” at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley. ‘The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.’ “The Ministry’s new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts. “ ‘I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,’ said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. ‘Many of us with our children’s best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore’s eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.’
“Among those ‘eccentric decisions’ are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody. “Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts. “ ‘I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence,’ said a Ministry insider last night. “Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts. “ ‘Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge’s office,’ said Madam Marchbanks. ‘This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.’ (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks’ alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17).”
“So they’ve proven now that the oaf is a half-giant. It was speculation till last year, but if the prophet keeps saying it...” Oretia nodded as she finished her own rendition of the paper, like that was something he would be worried about. “What do you think, Leigh?”
“I think-” He swallowed. “That Madam Marchbanks is going to lose her job soon, if she continues to protect Dumbledore in the paper.”
“Who cares about that?” Eva tipped against the table with her finger. “What matters is what will happen at Hogwarts. What if they won’t allow us to use a wand even for Transfiguration and Charms? I’ll fail my NEWT’s. My parent swill be lived and they won’t care that Umbridges stupid rules did all of that. I’ll be disowned!”
“I wonder how it’ll be like, though.” Arthur fell into her monologuing. “I mean the inspections. I hate when people just hover around close by. And they’ll probably sack Trewlany and I really need that easy O or at least an A.”
Were we always- this selfish? Leigh looked around himself. It was like for the first time he had a bigger picture and it was scary. He didn’t want to look out for everything, think about everyone.
“Horrible.” He answered. “I think it will be horrible.”
He didn’t see Umbridge all day. He’d expected her in Ancient Runes and then again in Potions, but the woman was surprisingly absent. He spend his entire day in a state of paranoia, convinced she’d appear as soon as he’d let his guard down. But she didn’t. Instead he barely avoided a pain stricken Potter on his evening round. And then the next day as well. He came to the realization, after asking around, that Potter had again acted up. And again in Defence, which seemed a rather stupid thing to do. It was the only time Potter was ever alone and the only one where he seemed bare. Obviously because of the pain. So on the third day of detention Leighton sat waiting in the corridor with a small canister of Dittany.
He was trying to find the right words, feeling peeved at his lack of preparation. But Potter was a very strange subject, which never seemed to react quite in the way that Leigh would presume. And Potter was also rather aggressive and easily vexed making this harder than getting an Outstanding in Potions. It was already an hour past curfew when the familiar thin shape came around the corner, shoulders hunched. Leighton jumped off the windowsill, he’d been occupying only for Potter to barrel past him. With an open moth he stood there for a second, hand in the air before turning and calling the boy back. Potter ever paranoid turned around with a closed off expression. The boy blinked a few times before shifting into something much more approachable. Leighton, delighted but confused stepped closer. Something in Potters attitude towards him had shifted from antagonistic to interested. Why or when were left to be determined.
“Leighton Fawley.” Potter greeted, one hand behind his back, almost casually. “What are you doing here?”
“Potter.” Leigh held up the canister, hoping it was a good peace offering. Whatever way he kept imagining his future to go, his instinct screamed at him that Potter was the safest bet. And he’d be dammed if he didn’t go for the safest route. “I noticed you didn’t do anything with your -hand. It’s gonna scar and hurt if you keep running it under cold water.”
“Wouldn’t be my first scar.” Potter shrugged, rolling his eye.
“Yeah, but it would be a shame to rob a Seeker of his abilities. Your hand won’t close as well. And I don’t want to see the day that Malfoy beats you because of something stupid like that.”
Potters eyes shimmered at the mention of Quiddich, which was great. Common ground. The Gryffidor held out his unharmed hand for the Dittany salve but Leigh didn’t want to finish this quiet yet. He walked towards Potter and past him.
“I’ll put it on you. There’s an open classroom around the corner.” With a silent Alomora the wooden door creaked open and Leigh stepped aside to let the boy in. The moment of truth. Would Potter pull back again because all Slytherins are untrustworthy snakes or would he continue his trustful streak. Potter seemed to debate the very same thing. He first stared at Leigh then the door and back at Leigh. With a sigh, like he couldn’t believe himself he entered.
The classroom was disgustingly dusty, so that Leigh had to clean it with three flicks of his want. Then he turned on a few of the candles and sat on a desk, Potter following him suit. The boy was eyeing the room like he expected half a dozen Green-Silvery Teens to break out of the wardrobe and underneath the desks. Nothing happened so Potter sort of relaxed.
“Hand.” Leigh said opening the salve. Reluctantly Potter obliged, giving him his hand. It looked messed up and angry, the skin a feverish red tone. It was probably about to get a nasty infection. “Merlin, Potter. Were you planning on losing that Hand?”
Leigh first used some very weak ice spell homing that the cold might make it less hurtful. Then he began working the slave in. Potter still hissed as the Leighton progressed. It instantly looked better but the scars would obviously stay. ‘I must not tell lies.’
“Circe. That has to be illegal. If it had been anyone else that toad would’ve been long since in Azkaban.” Leighton whispered.
“Well it is me so she’s just going to keep on doing. And I don’t think it matters to whom, as long its no one from Slytherin.” Potters shroff cold voice returned. Apparently he’d remembered why he hated Slytherins.
“Not quite right. As long as it’s no one important in Slytherin. I’m pretty sure no one cares about someone as long as they don’t have an uncle in the wizarding gamott.”
Silence. Leighton let go of Potters hand. How was he supposed to progress from her on out? Should he make a comment how no one would care about him? How it would be good to know what happens behind the green curtain. He opened his mouth with a half build sentence on top of his tongue, when Potter spoke.
“Do you know the Blacks?”
That took the air out of Leighton's sails. How? Why? Where did Potter get this from?
“Everyone knows the Blacks. You know. Sirius Black is in the Prophet like all the time.”
“Oh, no.” Potter seemed to ring with himself, like he was trying to not say something. “Like personally. Are you maybe related to them?”
“Almost all Purebloods are related. So in some way...”
“No-” Potter shook his head. “So- I got that Uncle and he used to know the Blacks really well and he said you look like you are a Black.”
Well there goes nothing. After all the Purebloods that could’ve made the connection, it had to be Potter. How was he supposed to convince him now that he isn’t a dark wizard?
“Alright.” At least not being a liar might give him some points. “My Grandmother was a Black. She said I looked like I fit right in.”
“You do.” Potter said excitedly, the pain in his hand seemingly forgotten. “ My Uncle really thought you were hi- eh. A guy named Regulus Black. You even have your hair like he does.”
“I did not know that.” Leigh shrugged, confused as to why Potter was getting into that so much.
Potter looked at him. Really looked. He seemed less against him somehow, like being related to the Blacks wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Like it didn’t disqualify him. Which was incredible and really confusing.
“Actually, Potter. Remember what I said about making bargains? I thought I’d offer one.”
Potters hands disappeared in his nest of inc hair.
“What kind of bargain?”
“I- I don’t want to become a Deatheater. I’m not good in the field. I’m made for a ministry job not people hunting or whatever they will do. I’m scared and I don’t think Dumbledore cares about us. Anyone in Slytherin. But you’re different, right? You’re a hero and you know it’s stupid to let your enemy have more followers.”
“And?”
“I’m changing sides. If a war comes, I want to be taken in by your side. I don’t want to be hunted by both sides. But if it stays like now I’ll be turned out at the door as soon as they hear my name.”
“And I’m supposed to be able to change that?” Potter asked unconvinced.
“You’re Harry Potter. If you say you want something it’s gonna happen.”
“You said this is a bargain. What do you offer.”
“Information. My position in Slytherin is quiet well. Anything useful I overhear, anything I find out is yours to use. I’m a prefect and I know that last time before You-know-who started his big operations, he recruited a bunch of students. I’m most likely on the list and if not I will still know when the recruitment starts. What do you think?”
Potter stared. He seemingly didn’t know what to make of that. Of course, Granger was likely the brain behind half the things he did. Then Potter stepped forward, grabbed the Dittany salve and smiled.
“I’ll think about it. Let’s talk next week, Fawley.”
Leighton blinked a few times as the smaller boy bypassed him.
“Night.” Potter aid before slipping out.
“Night, Potter.” Leighton echoed. He stayed rooted to the ground for a few more minutes before sneaking back to the dungeons.