The abandoned classroom on the fifth floor looked nothing like its usual self yesterday, for it was occupied. The rays of the setting sun, piercing through the dirty windows, picked out the faces of those gathered from the semi-darkness.
On three chairs pulled into a tight row sat three Gryffindors: Marvyn Burke, Edward Reed, and Adrian Swan. The traces of blood were gone, their cuts and wounds healed, but the unnatural pallor, dark circles under their eyes, general dishevelment, and cautious movements betrayed their recent visit to Madam Pomfrey. They had spent the entire day in the hospital wing under the influence of strong pain relievers and healing potions. The boys sat with downcast eyes; their postures easily conveyed dejection and fatigue.
Opposite them, on the other side of the makeshift circle, sat three Slytherins: Arcturus Malfoy, Cassius Warrington, and Marcus Avery. They appeared calm, even relaxed. But upon closer inspection, one could notice a shared wariness. However, Malfoy stood out even in this. He seemed deliberately to be portraying a tense guy trying to hide his jitters under a mask of relaxation. But why would he need a double mask?
Between the two groups, as if in a buffer zone, sat the prefects: Lucian Foley and Sophia Selwyn from Slytherin, as well as Percy Weasley and his partner — Spinnet, the other Gryffindor prefect. At the center, behind a desk that had clearly once served as a teacher's, sat Adrian Vance, the Head Boy, a seventh-year Ravenclaw — a man whose word among students carried significant weight, for he wielded administrative authority. His robes were impeccably clean, his hair neatly styled. His face wore an expression of concern bordering on reproach.
"…and just this month, we gathered at the Three Broomsticks and specifically discussed with you the need to curb inter-house friction between your houses," Vance was saying, his voice pedantically even. "All of us, including the third-year representatives who, for some reason, attended then," his gaze lingered for a second on Arcturus, "agreed that escalating conflicts is unacceptable. And what do I see mere days later?"
Lucian, the Slytherin prefect, tensed slightly under this gaze but remained silent. For now, he remained silent, as was necessary.
Arcturus, sitting opposite Vance, allowed himself a slight, almost imperceptible smile. He didn't wait for a pause.
"You are absolutely right, esteemed Head Boy, conflicts are terrible," he said with what could seem sincere sympathy. "Tell me, were there no other conflicts these past few days? Or is this incident the only one requiring such… an urgent inquiry?"
Vance frowned, leaning back slightly in his chair. His fingers tapped on the desk.
"We are here to address a specific case that came to light. If you have information about other violations, they should be discussed later. For now, Lucian," he shifted his gaze to the Slytherin prefect, "I would like to see more order from your third-years."
"Oh, forgive me," Arcturus placed a hand on his chest in feigned remorse. "I just thought… since such a representative assembly has been gathered, including the victims," he nodded towards the Gryffindors, "then, presumably, they want to address everything that's happened recently. To be fair. Although then there would be more people here. Or am I mistaken? Have there been other skirmishes requiring the Head Boy's attention?"
He looked directly at Vance, and his smile became slightly more serpentine. This was pure provocation. Vance understood this but couldn't grasp what this unusual third-year was driving at. Backing down now would mean admitting bias.
"Specifically in the last few days…" Vance began, choosing his words. "No, there haven't been."
"No?" Malfoy gently picked up. "You weren't aware of other incidents?"
A pause hung in the air. Vance felt himself being cornered.
And then, as if on cue, Lucian joined the conversation.
"By the way, Adrian," Foley said, pretending to have just remembered. "Then what were those strange meetings you had with a couple of Gryffindors and senior Slytherins? Several times with the same group, in the same classroom? Even this morning. I was just passing by, and it seemed… interesting. Why were Jacob Farmus and his friends gathered in one place with you and…"
Vance paled. His fingers stopped tapping.
"That's… unrelated to this matter, Lucian. These are personal issues I'd prefer you not pry into."
At that moment, none other than Sophia Selwyn entered the conversation. Her sharp gaze had noticed Vance's confusion, and according to the "script," it was time for her to speak after Foley's words.
"Personal issues discussed in abandoned classrooms with students from other houses? And with those who are constantly fighting and escalating tensions? Interesting. Perhaps we should invite Professor McGonagall here to help sort out exactly what kind of 'personal issues' require such secret meetings and how they relate to the overall atmosphere in the school? After all, if you were trying to calm them down, why weren't we prefects informed? And yet you chose to dissect this minor third-year conflict in such detail."
Charlie Weasley, who had been silent and fidgeting in his chair, couldn't contain himself.
"For once, I agree with the Slytherins!" he blurted out, leveraging his considerable weight and authority as a seventh-year student. "I'd like to know what conflict was kept hidden from us and why! We gathered here to address a specific problem, and it turns out you're playing some personal games?! I didn't expect this from you, Vance…"
Vance, feeling attacked from all sides, tried to return to the original agenda. But his composure had already cracked.
"Malfoy and his lackeys mauled three students from your house! And you're trying to change the subject with gossip?" His voice rang out loudly. It immediately became clear to everyone that the usually calm and sensible Ravenclaw wouldn't be acting this way unless the accusations were at least partly true.
"No one is gossiping, Adrian," Selwyn retorted coldly. "We're trying to understand the root of the problem. If the Head Boy is holding secret meetings with instigators of fights, that's no longer a 'personal issue.' Or are you all best friends, and the news of constant skirmishes between these two groups is just a performance?"
Vance, seeing the situation spiraling completely out of control, tried to reclaim authority. His voice became sharper and more authoritarian.
"Enough! We're straying from the topic. I will satisfy your curiosity later, but let's set a proper example for the third-years and not make a mountain out of a molehill. Specifically, yesterday Mr. Malfoy and his companions were the first to use magic against defenseless…"
"Defenseless?" Arcturus interrupted calmly, looking directly at Vance. "Interesting. When does self-defense against a spell coming at you become an attack on the defenseless? I would hope, esteemed Head Boy, that you wouldn't believe rumors and would at least hear the other side's account. Besides the word of three people who initiated the pursuit and insults, do you have any evidence that we attacked first? Or do you have an explanation for why you, as Head Boy, instead of stopping all conflicts, engage in selective investigations and secret meetings, citing personal matters? Have you investigated this incident, Vance? Apparently not, yet you insult me with your unsubstantiated accusations? Or did it somehow fall outside the scope of your 'personal affairs'?"
Percy Weasley jumped up, his massive figure shaking with indignation.
"This is utterly absurd! You… you're trying to slander the Head Boy and exonerate yourself with dirty insinuations! Do you have any proof?!"
"Don't shout at a third-year, Weasley!" Lucian snapped, rising from his seat.
And after these words, a veritable verbal hell broke loose, with each side stating their position, insisting on their own righteousness, and interrupting everyone else.
The classroom literally exploded with noise. The Gryffindor prefects shouted about order and respect for the office, Selwyn and Lucian Foley demanded explanations from Vance, the "victimized" Gryffindors themselves mumbled something. Marvyn Burke tried to yell something, but was drowned out by the general din.
At the center of this chaos sat Arcturus Malfoy. A predatory smile had fully spread across his face. Because now, Adrian Vance was not the judge, but one of the suspects. And most importantly, the shadow of doubt and suspicious glances were now directed not at Slytherin, as he had apparently planned, but at himself. Ultimately, before this conversation, the Slytherin side had received information obtained somewhere by Malfoy, along with a rough outline of the conversation.
In the end, after long disputes with interruptions, shouting, and noise, the Head Boy, along with the Gryffindor prefects, decided to hush up the matter. The battered Gryffindors apologized for the attack, and Vance also personally apologized to Arcturus Malfoy, who demanded an apology for slander. This was enough for the Slytherins to stop digging deeper into his "personal affairs," or so it seemed to him.
However, what the Head Boy didn't know was that his caution only confirmed Arcturus Malfoy's suspicions. In the entire play, Malfoy had not played the most important role. After all, he assigned the role to himself, such that he wouldn't stand out too much, yet wouldn't go unnoticed.
The silence on the way to the Slytherin common room was resounding. It wasn't that there was nothing to talk about — on the contrary, an unspoken mass of everything that had happened hung in the air. But we were so tired that none of us wanted to start discussing it all over again. Sophia, Lucian, and I walked abreast, while Cassius and Marcus deliberately lagged a couple of steps behind, thereby paying tribute to the hierarchy.
I was enjoying this silence. We had seized the initiative, and Vance, that arrogant Ravenclaw who came to judge, had left making excuses. I simply decided to thwart his latest attempt to pressure our house, as he was deliberately trying to pin the blame on us, cornering us. Perhaps he was involved in this affair, and I might soon find myself in even deeper trouble, but for now, I was greedy for any details. Such insights, or rather the recent bonuses I'd obtained from the lost Marauder's Map, gave me certain details and confidence in some of my conclusions.
"You did well, exposing him," Lucian broke the silence, and in his voice was the very note I had anticipated — a mix of approval and mild reproach. "But… we still haven't learned anything, and you specifically asked us to learn our 'roles' so you wouldn't have to say too much yourself. Plus, you were too confident. Vance isn't stupid; he definitely realized you're aware of things a third-year shouldn't be aware of."
I allowed myself a slight, condescending shrug.
"Let him think you told me everything. Call it house solidarity, so to speak. And in any case, he's long known and understood that I'm not that simple," my lips stretched into a smile he couldn't see. "The main thing is, he's now on the defensive. His authority has been shaken, even with the Gryffindors. And that's worth a lot. I didn't reveal anything beyond what he might have already suspected."
Sophia, walking beside me with a straight, almost regal posture, turned around. Her gaze slid over me, as if weighing me on invisible scales.
"This is all well and good for short-term tactics. But there are strategic questions: we still don't know what he's plotting. And considering he's associating with some fairly serious Slytherins, this could be dangerous. Also, Lucian," she shifted her gaze to him, "you're already up to your ears in NEWT preparation. Soon you won't have time for school intrigues and watching over the little ones. It's time to think about a successor. By December, Snape will definitely want your recommendation. And you need to give that recommendation and start involving the candidate in prefect affairs, because I don't want to do everything myself when you graduate."
The seventh-year waved it off.
"I'll have time, Sophia, I'll have time. NEWTs aren't tomorrow. And there are several candidates… we need to confer about it later."
My friends, meanwhile, simply followed silently, understanding their place and not interfering in the "adults'" conversation. But in the future, they would be discussing all this with me.
A pause formed, and precisely during this pause, I decided to introduce a new topic. Not mine, but Amanda's, nevertheless. The transition was abrupt, but my interests lay not only in the "big politics" of this school sandbox, but also in establishing order within our own "house."
"By the way, Sophia, I have a request for you where your authority is needed for a possible resolution of conflicts among the girls. Quite recently, two fourth-year girls — Harriet Bullstrode and Clarissa Darley, especially the latter — decided to publicly humiliate my friend, Amanda Rosier. They spread complete nonsense about her in front of everyone, which deeply offended her."
Sophia frowned slightly, slowing her pace. I continued, and surprisingly, she wasn't aware of the whole situation with Amanda — after all, it was a fairly localized "public" humiliation.
"Typical gossips with inflated egos…" Lucian threw in a word.
"Exactly, but I'm very touchy, and their gossip crossed the line and affected a member of my Council," my voice grew colder. "I believe a public lesson is definitely in order here. But for that, we need Sophia's help and her friends, as well as her influence among the Slytherin girls, in case we overstep a boundary."
Perhaps this incident would soon have been forgotten, but Amanda Rosier was not just another Slytherin girl. She was on the Council, and she could potentially become my fiancée, so I decided to fulfill her request and also protect her, as I should as Head of the Council.
She had devised the plan herself, and I merely perfected it, and it was time to set things in motion.
Already in the common room, under a dome of silence, I briefly outlined the essence, for corridors cannot be trusted, even considering I spoke quietly and only those I had no doubt about were around. That same day, our joint plan with Amanda began to be executed.
The information field abruptly began to fill with new rumors, which would soon bring the two gossip enthusiasts down from the clouds.
The prefect was needed purely to create a more powerful wave of rumors through her and her friends, as well as a guarantor of safety.
The following days became a vivid demonstration of the power of well-organized slander. The rumor, like a poisonous spore, broke free and began its amusing game. I love using this factor, as each time I'm convinced of the monstrous speed of any rumor in a closed society.
All it took was for rumors to start circulating that a Slytherin girl, fourth-year Clarissa Darley, had had many boyfriends whom she frequently changed — which was partly true, thanks to which it quickly found resonance among gossips. This Darley had broken up with two boys since the start of the school year. The rumors fit perfectly.
The story grew richer with details with each retelling, becoming juicier, more humiliating, and, crucially, more "plausible." We watched from the sidelines, as our job was merely to plant the initial spark, to set the starting point.
Soon, all the Slytherin girls and some girls from other houses knew that a fourth-year Slytherin was constantly changing boyfriends and had had more intimate relations with boys than just kisses. And this "fact" quickly found resonance among the boys in her year, and soon every other liar was telling tales confirming it. Well, maybe not that widespread, but one Gryffindor boy allegedly confirmed this fact, proud of himself. Sigh, everyone around is so stupid… well, with rare exceptions.
The main thing is that any such lie quickly jumps from a boastful liar and his friends to the ears of gossips, and from there, it all escalates with doubled force. All that remained was to cement it with a good story — one that would stick in everyone's memory. Thankfully, we had thought through that moment as well.