Two Galleons and One Sickle
Chapter 10: Two Galleons and One Sickle
When Draco walked into the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, he got one of his answers. It wasn’t particularly comforting, but at the end of the Gryffindor table a curtain of bright auburn hair hid the Weaselette’s face, bent over that stupid diary. Her quill was scratching away at the empty pages, but as Draco passed the table, he noticed the page absorbed the ink. He slowed his stride, and the girl didn’t seem to notice his presence at all. The Hall was still quite empty, so he lingered just a moment longer than he should’ve…
The page filled back up with words—not her words. The handwriting was much different. It was a complex calligraphy with large, flowing loops, whereas the Weasley girl’s had been a rounded print type. In fact, it was eerily similar to…
Nope. Too early. I need at least one cuppa before I dive in any further…but she’s alive so that’s something I guess…for now.
Draco slunk down into his own seat at the Slytherin table across from Blaise who was casually drinking his coffee and flipping through the newest Daily Prophet.
“Spill,” Blaise commanded without even glancing up from the paper.
“Excuse me?” Draco quipped. Grabbing his own mug and stirring a spoonful of honey into his tea.
“You were in the dorms last night shouting at a ruddy House Elf and then disappeared for the rest of the night. Spill.” Finally, Blaise looked up at Draco and his dark brown eyes pierced into Draco.
“Fine, fine,” he waved his friend off before taking a long sip of his tea. Blaise folded his paper and waited patiently. “The Chamber of Secrets has been officially opened. That paparazzi Gryffindor was petrified last night and I followed Dumbledore to the Hospital Wing and heard him say so, himself,”
“Yes, Draco, that’s all common knowledge now. Do keep up!” The dark-skinned boy joked as he pointed to the front page of the paper with the headline reading: HEIR OF SLYTHERIN STRIKES AGAIN! Draco rolled his eyes, but Blaise motioned for him to continue with his story.
“It has something to do with that cursed diary my father put in the Weasley girl’s cauldron in Diagon Alley—“
“Like a key? Or a map?” Blaise inquired, thinking out loud.
“I thought so too, at first, but when I came in here just now, she was writing in it and the ink kept disappearing—“ Draco recounted.
“Disappearing?”
“Yeah, then different handwriting appeared in its place—like she was sending messages back and forth to someone,” Draco finished.
“Who would she be writing to in a cursed diary?” Blaise mused.
“Well she doesn’t know it’s cursed, now does she?” Draco retorted, irritated with the obvious question.
“I s’pose you're right…so you think she’s the one who opened it?”
“No, only an Heir of Slytherin can open the Chamber. Could you imagine? A Weasley, the Heir of Slytherin? That’s a laugh,” Draco snorted and took a few more sips from his mug.
“We’re missing something,” Blaise finished his coffee with an audible gulp and stood up from the table. “A little fresh air?” Draco shrugged his shoulders with indifference.
…
After a short jaunt around the lake, the two Slytherins had come to the conclusion that whoever the Weaselette was communicating with through the diary must be the Heir of Slytherin. The only way a Weasley would help a Slytherin and betray their Gryffindor nobility, would be under a curse. She had to be possessed in some way by the diary or whoever she was writing to in it.
Once they had linked together at least a few coherent strands of theories, Draco and Blaise ran to find Snape to see if he could shed any insight onto their ideas. Approaching the dungeons, the boys slowed to catch their breath and calm their demeanor.
Upon entering the Potions classroom, they found Professor Snape leaning over his large cauldron, adding a small spoonful of what appeared to be aconite. He tossed in a few beetle eyes before he noticed the two students’ presence.
“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini,” the Potions Master addressed them before looking back at his brew and stirring clockwise. “I assume you have a good reason to interrupt me outside of my office hours.”
“Yes, professor,” Draco stood up tall, drawing from an unknown inner store of confidence. “It’s Ginny Weasley, sir. She’s the one who has opened the Chamber—or rather she’s helping whoever it is.”
“And how do you know this?” Snape sneered. “I hope this is more than petty vengeance on a classmate, Mr. Malfoy, as I will not tolerate it clouding your judgement on such a serious matter.”
“It’s not, I swear!” Draco said defensively. “I saw her writing in a cursed diary this morning at breakfast and the ink faded and when it reappeared it was a different handwriting!”
“A cursed diary? How did she come to be in possession of such an item, then?” Snape looked both shocked and a little angry.
“My father—“ Draco began but Snape quickly held up his hand.
“Very well, I will speak to Lucius about it this evening. Is that all you have?” The professor returned to stirring his brew and placed it under a stasis charm again.
“Yes, sir,” Blaise sighed disappointedly.
“Mister Malfoy, you will report back to my office tonight at eight o’clock sharp. Understood?”
“Yes, Professor.”
The two boys shuffled out of the potions classroom, closing the door tightly behind them.
“Well that amounted to nothing,” Blaise grumbled.
“Let’s just see how this meeting tonight goes, mate.” Draco patted Blaise on the shoulder and they returned to the common room to get ready for their classes for the day.
…
When they finally caught up with Theo, he was hiding out in an alcove on the third floor, wearing robes two sizes too big. He grinned giddily as his friends approached and Draco grew uneasy at what they were about to hear come out of their friend’s mouth.
“You boys in the market for some amulets? Talismans perhaps? Protection charms in a bottle?” Theo waggled his eyebrows as he showed them the inside of his robes. He had put sticking charms along the lining on both sides of his robes to hold a wide variety of random “amulets” and “talismans” so he called them.
From what Draco could see, Theo had a few various colored crystals, the tail of some vermin, a rabbit’s foot, a skinny bundle of sage, and a couple vials of what Draco assumed was colored water. Before he could even ask, Longbottom came hurrying down the corridor, making a bee-line for Theo’s hiding spot.
“Longbottom, what’s the rush? Everyone else is in class, don’t worry your little rule-abiding head. No one’s going to catch you up here,” Theo chuckled.
“N-Nott,” Longbottom nodded in acknowledgment, “I need anything you can get me for two galleons.”
“Two galleons? Come on, Nev! I know you know I can’t get you much for that—“ Theo started the haggling.
“And a sickle! That’s really all I have!” Neville Longbottom looked like he would burst into tears at any moment.
“Alright, alright. I’ll cut you a deal, but only because I’m lookin’ out for you. I can give you an Estonian evil-repelling onion, the Peruvian purple protection crystal, and an Eastern newt tail to protect you from poison. Two galleons and a sickle,” Theo stuck his hand out and Longbottom dropped the coins into his palm eagerly. The swindling Slytherin quickly pocketed the coins and they jingled as he handed over the aforementioned items. Longbottom scurried out of sight as Theo called after him, “Don’t say I never gave you anything!”
“What is all this about?” Blaise waved his hands, gesturing to Theo’s robes full of contraband.
Theo just shrugged, “I’m giving the people what they want—and what they want is protection from whatever monster is in the Chamber of Secrets.”
“You know all of this is garbage—we don’t even know what the monster is yet,” Draco cocked a brow at his friend, but smiled at the cunning ruse. “By the way, you know traditionally newts and salamanders are the poison, not protection from it, right?”
“How the bloody hell should I know that?” Theo scoffed.
“Macbeth,” Blaise and Draco said together, shaking their heads and laughing.
“Isn’t Longbottom a pureblood? What does he want with your rubbish amulets?” Draco asked skeptically.
“Says it attacked Filch because he’s a Squib and Longbottom reckons it’ll be able to tell he’s damn near a Squib himself,” Theo answered with an eye roll.
“How much have you made anyway?” Blaise asked.
“Two galleons and one sickle,” Theo stated proudly and they all collapsed into laughter again.
…
The rest of November passed without incident, but instead of calming everyone’s nerves, it set them all on edge the more time passed. Everyone in the castle was becoming more and more skittish waiting for an attack and hoping it wasn’t them or one of their friends who was next.
Draco had spoken to his father increasingly more since his meeting with him and Snape that evening. He learned quite a lot from his father—some things even Professor Snape had not yet been privy to.
“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before, nearly fifty years ago now,” Lucius began. “It was a little before my time, but the memory was still fresh by the time I arrived for my First Year.”
Draco nodded, eager to hear his father’s story. Snape sat stoically, perched on the edge of his desk.
“It was 1943, when the Dark Lord was merely a student at Hogwarts. He was a descendent of Salazar Slytherin, and was able to open the Chamber in order to rid the castle of the Mudbloods. Several students were petrified before he was finally able to kill one—“
“Wait, someone died last time? Who?” Draco interrupted.
“Some girl named Warren,” Lucius replied hesitantly, looking over at Snape to gauge his reaction. If the professor was surprised, he didn’t show it, but simply nodded along as if he had known all along.
“Why haven’t I ever heard of her? You would think someone dying from the Chamber of Secrets being opened would’ve been big enough news to stick around” Draco asked.
“One would think,” Lucius agreed. “However, at the end of the story, you’ll understand why no one really remembers what happened.” Lucius Malfoy cleared his throat and continued on, “After the murder, the Headmaster at the time, Armando Dippet threatened to close the school for the safety of the students. The Dark Lord couldn’t bear to see his refuge and home closed for good—“
“His home?” Draco interrupted once more, clearly to the annoyance of his father.
Searching Severus Snape’s face carefully, Lucius dared to share one of the most precious secrets of his Dark Lord with his son. “The Dark Lord was found originally at an orphanage by Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the one who brought him to Hogwarts in the beginning. If the school closed, he would have no place left to go.” Lucius paused to let the revelation sink in with his audience.
Snape had an alarming look of shock plastered to his face, and Draco stood dumbfounded with his mouth ajar.
“Voldemort was an orphan? Who just happened to be the Heir of Slytherin? And DUMBLEDORE is the one who brought him here?!” Draco couldn’t have sounded more surprised if Voldemort had appeared right there and then.
“Yes, Draco, my sentiments exactly. However, that is a conflict for another night,” Lucius redirected. “The Dark Lord closed the Chamber, knowing he could re-open it at any time, and he kept a diary of how he did it—at least that was what he told me. I wasn’t supposed to open the diary until given strict orders to do so.”
“Did you look?” Draco asked anxiously, leaning forward in anticipation.
“Of course not!” Lucius exclaimed, haughtily offended. “At least, not until he appeared to have gone for good,” he amended carefully. “I tried to look through it but it was empty. I have kept it in the Malfoy vaults since.”
Draco stared at his father for a moment before gathering himself. “Do you know what the monster is?”
“The last time the Dark Lord blamed the attacks on Hagrid and one of his little pets—a giant spider if the rumors are to be believed.” Lucius drawled.
“A spider—“ Draco murmured, but Lucius shrugged as he lost interest. His son continued wracking his brain for any semblance of connection to what they already knew, “—there were spiders everywhere when that Gryffindor boy was petrified…”
“You were there?” Snape’s head snapped toward Draco instantaneously.
“Well, I was looking for you, professor, after father’s bloody House Elf paid me a visit and connected the dots about the diary opening the Chamber—“
“And you came across the Creevey boy,” Snape finished and Draco nodded in confirmation. “Let me guess, you followed Albus and Minerva to the Hospital Wing to confirm your suspicions?”
“Yes, sir. On an unrelated note, I spotted Granger and Weasley with a load of potions supplies in the girls’ lavatory down there. No idea what they’re up to, but it’s got to be breaking some kind of rule, right?” Draco’s eyes were gleaming with the possibility of retribution. He didn’t necessarily want Granger expelled, but Weasley on the other hand…
“Unfortunately, Mr. Malfoy, since I did not catch them in the act, I cannot, therefore, issue any kind of punishment. However, I will most certainly be keeping an eye on my potion ingredient stores and should anything go missing…well I’m sure you’ll be the first to find out,” Snape smirked conspiratorially.
“Enough of your childish plotting, the both of you. Honestly, Severus, you're thirty-something years old and conspiring to get a few twelve year-olds into trouble? Haven’t you grown up yet?” Lucius reprimanded with violent irritation.
Snape looked as though he was about to strike like a deadly viper at the attack on his maturity. His hand hovered steadily over the hilt of his wand in his waist pocket, and anger flashed in his endless black eyes. The blonde aristocrat paid him little attention, and strode across the room to place his hand on Draco’s shoulder.
“You said you saw spiders?” Lucius inquired, steering the conversation back to something more productive to their purpose.
“They were running in a straight line, which I thought was odd…they were all running out of the school—in the direction of Hagrid’s hut and the Forest now that I think about it,” Draco conceded.
“Interesting,” Lucius stroked his stubble on his chin momentarily, “does Dumbledore know all that we currently know, Severus?”
“I tend to assume that the Headmaster knows everything there is to know most of the time,” Snape drawled in frustration. It was evident that though the Headmaster knew a great deal, he rarely shared the full story with the Potions professor.
“Then he should know what will happen next. History will repeat itself, for the time being—it has already been set into motion and is out of my hands,” the elder Malfoy spoke directly to Snape.
“Indeed.”
…
Draco was set to stay at the castle for winter break. He reluctantly gave Professor McGonagall his name when she came around the Great Hall mid December. He was helping Professor Snape find out who had been taking extra potion ingredients, as well as to keep Theo and Pansy company.
Narcissa was rather put out that her son wouldn’t be joining her for their annual Christmas traditions, but Draco had promised her to write more frequently as soon as their studies were finished for the term. Lucius, naturally, had been the one to suggest Draco stay at the school as he was a pureblood, he would be perfectly safe and the least suspicious in keeping an eye on the situation with the Chamber of Secrets.
Theo had been informed that he was no longer welcome at Nott Manor for winter hols, and the Parkinson’s were taking a trip to Greece sans Pansy. Whether skipping the trip was her idea or theirs, Draco didn’t dare ask. Instead, he was more than happy to spend Christmas and New Years with two of his oldest friends in the magical castle with a mystery afoot. He was not, however, looking forward to spending his Christmas with Precious Potter and the Weasel whose names were also on McGonagall’s list…maybe seeing Granger wouldn’t be so bad though…
One frigid Thursday afternoon, Draco sat with Blaise in the Great Hall for lunch. The two boys were battling in a ferocious game of wizards chess. Blaise was the stronger strategist, but Draco was always unpredictable with his moves and they were evenly matched. Only Theo could thwart either of the boys when they played in the commonroom. Eventually, both boys were in Check, but neither could get the Check Mate. After a long five minutes of this, they called it a draw and went to their next and favorite class—double Potions with the Gryffindors. Inevitably, Potter would get yelled at for something or another, and Draco could openly enjoy the show without also losing points.
The afternoon’s lesson began much as it normally did, with their twenty pewter cauldrons steaming and ingredients being weighed and measured with brass scales and instruments. Snape proceeded to made snide comments to the Gryffindors for their shotty potions, and the Slytherins grinned madly. Riding the high, Draco flicked a spoonful of puffer-fish eyes at the Wonder Twins, knowing full well there would be no repercussions for him, only for his rivals if they chose to retaliate.
Draco turned back to his perfectly thickening potion, he stirred another three times counter-clockwise before adding in the next ingredient. He saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, which was always somewhat trained on her. She was nodding at Potter, who very obviously ducked down behind his cauldron and fiddled with something out in his robes pocket.
He heard a fizzing sound but before he could react, Potter tossed whatever it was into the air, lobbing it directly into Goyle’s potion. The slimy substance exploded and showered the entire class with Swelling Solution. Those that got hit shrieked as they felt the effects take hold.
Draco unfortunately got a face full of the stuff too—his nose ballooning before his eyes. Just before his vision disappeared, he spotted Granger slipping into Professor Snape’s office, the owner of which was slithering around the classroom looking for the culprit.
“Silence! SILENCE!” Snape roared. “Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft — when I find out who did this —”
The blonde shuffled to the front of the classroom as quickly as he could without tripping as he was no longer able to see his feet. Half the class made their way to the Potions Master with great effort—some with clubs for arms and others with over-puffed lips. Draco was handed a vial of Shrinking Solution as an antidote and he took a swig. The effect was instantaneous, and his pristine Malfoy features were back to normal.
As the rest of the class took the antidote, Draco spotted Granger slipping back out of Snape’s office with the front of her robes bulging. Goody two-shoes Granger caught stealing!She’s lucky I’m the only one who spotted her during her conniving heist.
Snape was swept over to Greg’s cauldron and reached in to find the twisted black remains of the firecracker. The room went silent and all eyes were on the rage-filled professor.
“If I ever find out who threw this,” Snape whispered, “I shall make sure that person is expelled.”
That was enough to instill fear in every student present…with the exception of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Draco knew he had no reason to be afraid, but he also knew Potter would never admit he did something wrong. After a year and a half of being praised for breaking rules, his nemesis had developed a skewed sense of righteousness and an enlarged ego.
Snape continued to stare Potter down for the remaining ten minutes of the class.