"In short, these fifth-year Gryffindor girls will be happy to help us."
Who were these two girls who ended up indebted to me, Cassius, and Avery? It was quite simple. Once, in our second year, we were passing by the fourth-floor girls' bathroom. No one was around, only the laughter of a couple of idiots echoed. Some fourth-year boys had locked two girls in the bathroom, and as it turned out later, those morons had even doused them with water, likely using Aguamenti, and taken their wands.
At that moment, we, of course, rescued the ladies from three boys. As for who was right or wrong... well, in any case, I didn't care, the result was what mattered. All it took was mimicking Filch's voice calling for his cat. While Filch himself wasn't feared by the students, he could report to McGonagall, and she would definitely make their lives interesting. Had it been the real Filch, the bullies would have been better off hiding — after all, they had placed silencing and locking charms. Without their wands, the girls would have been stuck until the charms wore off, but before our little maneuver, the boys were waiting for a specific one of these girls to apologize and confess. Typical puberty-stricken teenagers with less-than-stellar intellects.
By fleeing, they hoped Filch wouldn't catch them and the girls wouldn't be found. Later, either they'd return, or the charms would wear off and the girls could return to their common room later, albeit soaked and freezing. But they, of course, didn't consider how extremely unpleasant and dangerous it was to remain wet in the cold corridors of a winter castle.
We freed the girls, used some basic household charms to help them dry off, and even escorted them, behaving with exaggerated elegance, which transformed us from "brats" into "young gentlemen" in their eyes. In short, we played our roles brilliantly. Had we been older, we might have gained admirers; as it was, we at least gained debtors.
That's how we got the details of the incident. It turned out one of the boys, jealous of his girlfriend over another guy, had argued with her during a group outing, and it almost escalated to a duel. But the boys were faster and outnumbered them. His girlfriend and her friend were sent to the girls' bathroom, doused with Aguamenti, for good measure.
So, stupid Gryffindor teenagers. Both the boys and the girls. But that didn't stop me from cleverly gaining two young ladies as debtors, then fourth-years, and crucially, from the opposing house.
Sometimes I'm amazed by this stupid story, as if it weren't Gryffindors who pulled it off. Though, of course, only they could stoop so low... okay, that's prejudice... I hope.
The girls turned out to be quite the gossips, so I essentially had my own little bugs. Not that they could damage their house — they lacked the brains for that. But thanks to that very fact, during brief conversations, a couple of simple tricks could extract information about what was happening in their house. And now it was time to use their services, this time very specifically.
While we brainstormed and refined the emerging idea, I simultaneously pondered what all this would lead to. This wasn't just about our classmates provoking us through the younger years... it was about what was happening in the school.
Everything would be much simpler if Lucian became Head Boy. But as long as the Deputy Headmistress is McGonagall, that position will always go to Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, or Hufflepuffs. True, in the future, I'll definitely pull something to break this injustice, but for now, I don't have enough power and influence in the school to make all the other prefects give up such an honor. But when I'm prefect myself... I can start thinking about it.
This time, we either got a simply reasonable Ravenclaw, or a reasonable and ambitious guy planning something more Slytherin-esque. Intrigues, as always. Or perhaps I'm seeing intrigues everywhere now? I think I've contracted Slytherin brain disease... The main thing is that it doesn't worsen into the Gryffindor variation.
And now this very Ravenclaw, along with the Gryffindor prefects, of course, is calling a meeting. What are the chances they want to propose some sort of truce pact to cool tensions between the houses, and what are the chances the Head Boy is in cahoots with the Gryffindors and, as the meeting initiator, will try to set us up specifically?
I think I'm already perceiving everything too complicatedly and forgetting that such intrigues are mainly the domain of Slytherins, and I'm simply overestimating everyone. After all, Slytherin has always been neutral with Ravenclaw, meaning they've had the best relations precisely with the house of the clever ones. It's just strange that the Gryffindor prefects knew about this meeting before ours.
My paranoia is also understandable. Lately, a lot has accumulated. Particularly strange is the conflict between Farmus and his lapdogs and our upper-years who used to be friends with Answorth. Three clashes in the past week, and it's clearly not without reason.
I ended up sharing these thoughts and concerns — why else did I create this Council? I told them about the oddities, making this topic likely the last one for today.
For about five minutes after my paranoid idea, silence hung in the room. Everyone was thinking or pretending to — like Cassius, who, by all appearances, was pondering Quidditch tryouts. Though, it's unlikely anything useful could be gleaned from his thoughts; let him dream. Dream, because this year, the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team became the best friend of the late Answorth. His gang, even after the leader's death, or rather his "mysterious disappearance," still disliked us.
Even worse than before. We didn't communicate at all, and a sort of mutual dislike hung between us. You could even call it a cold conflict, but it was enough for a decent flyer with a good build like Cassius not to be taken on as a Chaser or Beater.
Today's meeting, of course, dragged on, and it was almost time to head to Hogsmeade, to the appointed place. Our prefects invited me to this meeting — just to listen. If anyone understood how dangerous I was, it was them, and they took me seriously, aware that any final decision at the house level couldn't be made without my involvement.
Perhaps I didn't possess official and recognized authority like the prefects, but ruining anything... That, me and my Council were quite capable of.
The final question for today was raised by Amanda.
"The second-years, and even some of our third-years, are grumbling. I've heard some conversations on the topic. I think they want to stand out somehow."
"Rings are only for Council members," Blackmore answered immediately. "Right, Arcturus?"
"We could give them something else," Avery added. "It doesn't have to be rings."
"Exactly my point," Amanda said slyly, though it was clear her thoughts were elsewhere. Her mind was clearly somewhere else.
"All in due time," I stopped her. "This winter, after the holidays, there will be new positions on the Council, meaning new members. As for those who have already proven their usefulness but won't become Council members, I decided to reward them with tie pins or amulets. If there are no more urgent questions, I declare the meeting adjourned. I need to go to the meeting."
I leaned back in my chair, another reminder that the session was over. All questions were discussed, and decisions made, well, almost. The mechanism I'd spent so long building now worked well enough. Not perfectly, because without my help at this stage, things could go awry, but it worked. And with each day, we became only more complex, stronger, and more invisible to the outside eye.
Before everyone started leaving the room, I needed to ensure someone stayed at the castle — just in case. Everything was too strange today.
On Sundays, we usually went to Hogsmeade together after the meeting to relax, but this time we'd split up anyway. So leaving someone at the castle as a precaution wouldn't hurt. It turned out everyone could stay, as the Sunday plan was simple: meeting, then Hogsmeade with the whole gang.
Only Cassius was busy. Today, they were selecting a Beater for our Quidditch team, and he intended to participate.
I decided that Isabella, Marcus, and Blackmore were quite enough, so I'd take Amanda with me. Besides, I needed to discuss yesterday's incident with her on the way.
"Amanda, stay for a minute. I believe you wanted to talk about..."
"Of course. To be honest, I didn't expect you to dedicate time to this. I was counting on telling you on the way." Her eyes gleamed cunningly, reflecting the room's soft light.
"You think I should take you to the prefects' meeting?"
"So, you were indeed planning to offer me that option." Amanda's signature, poisonous smile reached its peak.
Apparently, I'd forgotten that someone could read me so easily, but with Amanda, it's always complicated.
"Maybe yes, maybe no. Depends on this conversation."
Amanda sat back down in her seat, attentively awaiting my word.
Meanwhile, as we exchanged phrases, everyone else had already left the room, and we were left alone in complete silence. The door closed, muffling the last footsteps.
"You managed to surprise me," I began. My fingers tapped a slow rhythm on the dark wood of the table. "You twisted everything so that I almost forgot I was dealing with Amanda Rosier. You were magnificent — a true daughter of the Rosier family! But you were again not entirely honest with the Council. And most importantly — with me. You know our families could still arrange an engagement."
She didn't lower her gaze. On the contrary, her blue eyes met mine of the same shade.
"Honesty is a relative concept, Arcturus," her voice sounded soft but with a fair amount of playfulness. "Especially within these walls. And especially when it concerns the house we both represent. Didn't you yourself say that a snake's primary virtue is the ability to conceal its intentions until the right moment?"
She tilted her head slightly, and the soft, magical lighting of the room slid over her perfectly styled hair.
"But I remember another rule of yours: ultimate honesty with those you trust. So let's be honest. I merely played on the Council members' emotions, but I harmed neither the Council nor you. I let you know there's a problem requiring your personal attention. And that I preferred to discuss it with you alone..." Her smile at that moment could have meant anything. "Shouldn't the Head of the Council be the main keeper of its secrets? The central point where all threads of intrigue and secrets converge? Ah yes, you keep emphasizing that we are formally equal, yet you gradually reshape the contours of the true hierarchy."
She began cutting straight to the truth, and it was unpleasant to realize. Unpleasant because I had tried to do it subtly.
She paused, letting the words sink in. The air in the room grew even tenser. But Amanda wasn't finished.
"Or perhaps I'm mistaken?! Or perhaps you simply don't like it when someone reminds you of... your own lack of complete candor?!" Her tone and every syllable were honed like blades. "About how you hid the purpose of your stay in France. About the real reasons for that trip. Or perhaps an engagement with the Milfoy family doesn't concern me? Is an engagement with a Rosier so humiliating for the Malfoy heir that it's better not to mention it at all? Or..." she fell silent for a split second, and something complex flickered in her eyes, "...or is it about me? Do I, myself, provoke such rejection in you?"
For a moment, anger almost overwhelmed my mind, but the special Occlumency technique I'd been honing for so long helped erect an icy barrier between reason and anger. Had the anger been slightly stronger, the imaginary wall might not have helped, but I've only been learning this for a month.
Better to think with a cold head now. Amanda's words sounded like a reproach. Everything was said in the best Slytherin tradition and that of a hurt girl. Hurt and challenge, wrapped in silk... gradually making her raise her voice.
"They weren't mocking me, Arcturus. They were mocking the fact that you flee from the mere idea of an engagement with me! And not because you're so freedom-loving, as you only told me, but because, supposedly, it's about me!" The offended girl was now almost shouting, trying to get it all out. "And they told everyone about it! Look at the picture from the outside! Is this what you wanted?! Tell me, Arcturus, am I really so awful?!"
Now I understood. Her anger, her stubbornness, her desire to pull me into a private conversation — this was what caused these emotions. She didn't just want to play Slytherin games with me. Wounded pride, essentially a blow to her confidence. And this blow needed to be parried not just firmly, but with a show of devastating force. And I had to do it. She understood that, and I only understood it now.
The silence in the room was oppressive. Amanda awaited a monologue in response — my arguments, me twisting everything to my advantage, as always. Or an outburst of anger, which had flashed this semester despite all attempts to fight the emerging curse. But no. Not this time.
Essentially, her stubbornness wasn't manipulation but an attempt to convey this pain and hurt directly to me. So there was no reason for my anger... I only felt sorry for her, and I was angry only at myself. For not considering such a possibility, though I should have.
I rose from my seat and approached her.
"Now I understand," I finally said. "Thank you for telling me, Amanda. Everything fell into place."
I moved even closer to her chair and, still standing, simply placed a hand on her shoulder, then lightly embraced her, giving her the chance to bury her forehead against my side.
She froze, her breath catching for a moment in surprise, then her body relaxed slightly, accepting such a strange reaction in the form of simple, human support. She remained seated, and I stood beside her, feeling the warmth of her cheek through the fabric of my shirt.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly, looking at her hair the color of ripe wheat and her figure pressed against me. "I didn't intend it, but I allowed this to happen to you because of me. I hope you understand I don't think that way."
She didn't answer, only pressed a little tighter, and it was more eloquent than any words.
After a few seconds, I stepped back slightly. Amanda slowly rose to meet my gaze. I was taller, and she tilted her head back slightly. Her eyes, usually so sharp and mocking, were now simply large and slightly moist from the already faded tension and hurt. She didn't cry, but there was a damp spot on my shirt.
I placed my hands on her shoulders — a light, almost weightless touch.
"I'll fix this," I promised. "Those two vipers will learn why they shouldn't hurt our... my innocent little snake. No one will dare say such things again."
Only after my words did she light up the room with her gentle, beautiful smile. Not that poisonous, cunning Slytherin smile, but a genuine one, without pretense or venom, which, it seemed, I had seen before, but... no, since the cooling of our relationship, I hadn't encountered such sincerity. The smile was a little tired, a little sad, but so sincere. In that smile was more strength than in all her previous antics.
"Alright," she simply said, and her voice was warm and quiet. "I believe you, Arcturus."
"You did the right thing by bringing this to me. I needed to know," I said. "But next time, say everything directly and without theatrics. We're playing the same game, Amanda. And we'll only win if we see the whole board."
She nodded. Complete understanding was in her eyes. It seemed we were fully on the same side again, without the previous rift.
"Excellent," I concluded. "Then I'll wait for you in the common room if you need time. You do want to come with me to the prefects' meeting, right? Your presence there now... is more appropriate than ever. It's time to show the upper-years that things are different now. And that we'll gradually start dictating the new rules of the game."
Soon, we were walking away from the castle, straight to Hogsmeade. The meeting was to take place at the Three Broomsticks.