wraithvault

C5

Justin Finch-Fletchely (Granger mouthed his name from her seat just behind the others) raised his hand and once Draco pointed to him with his long stick—not his wand, an actual stick he found at the edge of the forbidden forest—Justin asked, "So you mean to say that the entire British Wizarding economy is governed by a race essentially being blackmailed into compliance?"

"Yes."

Justin elegantly stated, "That's lunacy."

Draco, who was above pointing out the muggleborns silly little prejudices and stupid little hangups about money, said, "It is not a perfect system."

Wayne Hopkins (Granger mouthed his name when he raised his hand), also a muggleborn and also a Hufflepuff but strangely not on very friendly terms with Justin—Draco wasn't going to bother remember their muggle family names, and he especially wasn't going to go out of his way to learn new ones—said at Draco's nod, "If the goblins run the economy and guard the money, couldn't they just lock the doors and keep you out until you fold to their demands?"

"We don't acknowledge that," Draco smartly responded after two seconds of not-very-deep thinking because quite frankly, he could not care less. The goblins were the goblins and Gringotts was Gringotts, and they did what they did. If they hadn't locked the doors yet, they probably had a perfectly reasonable reason for that and it would be useless of him to waste time worrying. Still, he couldn't say any of that out loud because then he'd ruin the last hour he'd just spent preaching about Gringotts, and potentially his entire insidious plan to go into a ridiculous amount of details would be compromised.

Granger was the next one to raise her hand while Wayne folded over his muggle notebook and scribbled something with an alien muggle pen that scratched the paper with a distinctly odd sound. Granger barely waited for him to point at her before she blurted out, "Can goblins vote in Wizarding elections?"

"Of course not."

"So then, are they a separate nation living on British Wizarding soil?" Draco stared blankly at her and she rephrased, "Do Wizarding laws apply to goblins and Gringotts? Are goblins members of Wizarding Britain?"

"No-yes-no." It was Granger's turn to stare blankly at him, the others in the classroom craning their heads to stare between them, and Draco kindly chose to further explain, "Goblins are not members of Wizarding Britain, but they are not a separate nation with laws of their own and they and Gringotts are still beholden to Wizarding laws." A pause, then Draco, thoughts spinning as he tried to gather everything he'd ever heard about Gringotts into one succinct thought, said, "Gringotts is the last remaining goblin territory in Wizarding Britain, and it has special dispensations in the law to deal with thieves and intruders, and the capacity to self-rule to a certain extent as long as they don't break Wizarding laws."

There. That should do it.

It did not do it.

"But why would they agree to such a thing?" Granger asked, pulling on her hair and scrunching her nose. "Don't they have magic of their own?"

"Goblins aren't allowed to use wands."

"But can't they use magic without wands?" Wayne pointed out, following it up with a silly, "They're not human, right, so why would they use magic like humans do?"

Draco was starting to have regrets. He should have made sure Granger only recruited stupid people, or at least people with little interest in magic. Such muggleborns existed aplenty. "Because magic is magic. Wands is the only proper Wizarding way to use it."

"But, but wandless magic is possible, is it not?" Megan, who hadn't said a word so far, peeped up from her place in the corner.

Draco had more regrets. "It's possible, but it requires a consistent practice and a lot of raw power that most wizards don't have. It's essentially just tricking your magic into thinking you're using a wand to cast a spell."

The students looked at each other, speaking without words. Finally, Granger pointed out, "Then if the goblins have spent so long without wands, wouldn't they have learned how to use magic without them by now? They have magic, so statistically somebody must be powerful enough to have done it."

So many regrets. "Goblins would never share such information with wizards, in that case."

"So then it's possible they have?" Justin thoughtfully said, stroking his chin.

"Yes."

Draco watched them scribble like mad in their notebooks, feeling rather like he'd lost all control over this lesson. In desperation, though he naturally hid id expertly, he consulted his lesson plan and drew his finger along the letters until he reached the point they'd gotten side-lined on. Clearing his throat, he ignored their reactions and jumped right back into his planned lesson with, "In the year 1348, the goblins sent a representative when a Wizengamot hearing was held in a dispute between a goblin of indeterminable status and a minor lord of muggle origin. The muggleborn contested that the goblin had tried stealing all his money, and the goblin contested that the minor lord had broken a contract with them and the goblin was able to commandeer that money well within the full extent of the law."

Boot, the lone Ravenclaw in their little club, said without waiting for his turn, "If a goblin can be taken to court, does that mean they are a legal entity that has rights? But didn't you just say they aren't members of Wizarding Britain, merely beholden to our laws? And then wouldn't that mean that they are not legally allowed to defend themselves or able to go to court?"

What the bloody Merlin was this fool talking about?

Draco coughed, "This event took place before the last great goblin-wizard war, after which the goblins' station within Wizarding Britain changed."

Boot and Granger both made rather concerning humming noises as they all returned to their scribbling. Draco watched them for a moment, then checked the clock and exhaled nearly imperceptibly. "Our time is up. We'll continue learning about Gringotts next lesson on Wednesday, same time." Narrowing his eyes, he emphasized, "Do not be late."

They all, except Granger, bundled up their things and hurried out, chattering as the door fell shut behind them. Draco exhaled again, folding his lesson plan up and spiriting it away into his bag.

After a few minutes, Granger asked, "Do the goblins really not have any legal rights?"

"No. It's why did they sided with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Eyebrows furrowing, she asked, "Did they really? The textbooks doesn't say that."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course they didn't side with him outright, but they certainly never sold a Death Eater out, or allowed their vaults to be searched or anything. Didn't even reveal where the Dark Lord was getting his funds. From the goblins, that's basically a love letter."

"I see."

Looking at her out of the corner of his eyes, Draco sighed. He was not entirely sure what she had seen but he had the feeling that, in keeping with tonight's theme in general, it was something he hadn't intended to show. But nevertheless, Draco wasn't going to lose any sleep over it. He simply puttered around the room for a bit and finally ordered, "Dorry, set it up like we discussed."

"Yes, Young Master!" Dorry energetically squeaked.

Granger followed him out the door, as she was wont to do these days. He supposed that she was probably in awe of him; it was perfectly understandable that she wanted to bask in his presence. It was also understandable that she wanted to be seen with him, however much she might resent that desire. She wasn't stupid, after all, and after this much time she'd surely figured out that Draco was at the top of the social ladder.

Even a mudblood might be able to get somewhere if she hung onto his coattails.

It was nearly ten in the evening, night already fallen. With dinner and lessons over with, Draco drawled a quick, "Good night," and successfully left Granger in the dust. He hurried through the halls, returning to the Slytherin dorms where Greg and Vince were, as expected, waiting for him.

"Are you done?" Vince asked, rising and packing up the game of chess, the chess piecing in turn yelling obscenities. He didn't understand why they insisted on using that particular set; they had no manners.

Greg looked around. "Welcome back, my liege," he solemnly said, saluting and bowing at the same time.

Draco waved a hand. "You've done excellent work, knight," he said, glancing around. The hall was empty and nobody was around to see him indulge his minion's whims, something that happened with distressing regularity. He was pretty sure it was alright though; the books he had about raising pets emphasized the need for positive reinforcement and indulging in the need for play. It was, apparently, vital for health.

Hmm. Maybe that was Theo's problem? Maybe Draco wasn't playing with him enough? It had been a since Theo had done anything but studying.

Hmm. Worth considering.

Inside the dorms, the fires were lit and the torches cast long shadows. Most of the chairs were occupied, it was getting into autumn proper and night fell earlier and earlier every day. Draco spotted a few older Slytherins he had more than a passing acquaintance with (they'd run in the same circles his entire life) but he did nothing more but nod to them. It wasn't exactly a matter of hierarchy, since Slytherin didn't really work like that, but rather it was more a matter of respect of the power he'd one day have.

Also, Draco had connections to like every single person in Slytherin, even the few muggleborns, and nobody wanted to see how many strings he could actually pull. Draco didn't either, but for a different reason; if he started pulling strings and some of them didn't respond, everybody would know.

At present, the hypothetical power he had was worth more than the actual he'd have once he started pulling his weight.

So he wasn't actually doing much with his 'power'.

Aside from, well, his devious scheming to screw with the naïve muggleborns. (He sort felt an evil laughter coming on at that thought, but he successfully held it in. Mad laughter might be acceptable in Slytherin due to the Dark Lord's precedence, but Draco didn't have the looks or the magic to pull it off. People would just end up laughing at him.)

Regardless of his treasonous actions tonight, the night passed very nearly peacefully, and Draco was up at dawn the next day. He shuffled to the common room on slow feet, descending the stairs with one hand on the railings lest he trip, and plopped onto the softest, bestest chair in the room. It was hidden in an alcove and had an excellent vantage point and the Slytherin prefects were always battling for the seat.

Yawning, Draco didn't bother hiding it.

His eyelids were slow to blink, the movements sedate, but when Theo shuffled down the stairs some ten minutes later Draco had almost convinced his body he was awake. "Theo," Draco called before Theo could leave.

Theo twitched. "Draco?" he, too, yawned. Unlike Draco, he hid it.

Draco rose, shuffling over and pulling on Theo's sleeve. "Breakfast," he muttered. He was going to say something else, but quite frankly he was having some issues remembering it. He'd woken twice, twice, due to Theo's nightmares and mostly he was disappointed in himself. He had very evidently not done a good enough job taking care of Theo, and he was having none of it anymore.

"Come with me," Draco clarified when it took Theo a strangely long time to move.

At last, Theo twitched again and they set off.

Draco took a moment to gather his thoughts in the dark hallways, the smell of lake-water and potion ingredients drifting through the magical air-currents. After a while, when they'd ascended a level or two and were getting closer to the Hufflepuff dorms, he said, "You're not playing enough."

"Playing enough?" Theo's eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched.

Draco was nice enough to look past his slow mind and clarified, "Pe-ople need to play and have fun to remain in good health. I was thinking, since my protection isn't enough to defeat your nightmares, maybe the solution is to that you need to play more."

"Play more?" Theo's mind seemed to have gotten stuck.

That was okay, Draco could pull his leash. "Yes, play more. So you're joining me with Granger today. We're having another preview class for my master plan. You can sit in the corner and laugh at their silly questions."

"Master plan?"

At this point, they'd exited the dungeons and were approaching the Great Hall and, as expected, Draco saw Granger's bushy hair disappearing inside. She was the kind of weirdo that would wake up early every day and do homework while eating breakfast and Draco had seen enough of her to know that she would relish the opportunity for another source of information to interrogate.

"Just come with me," Draco said to Theo after a beat too long, pulling the boy with him to the Gryffindor's table where only a handful of people were sitting, spread out far and wide. Granger was in her usual seat on the edge and he wondered if she sat there to seem less lonely.

It didn't really work.

"Granger!" Draco called and her head shot up.

"Malfoy?" she gaped, then saw Theo and gaped even more. "What are you doing here?"

"Theo's joining us in class tonight, get him up to speed." At Granger's confused look, Draco rolled his eyes and drawled, "It's fine, Theo likes homework too." Theo's confused expression, mixed with his visible exhaustion, even caused Draco to expand, "This is for his own good."

Neither of them seemed to be comprehending his secret signal of have fun and play, so Draco just abandoned them and ate breakfast on his own. It was fine, they'd figure it out. After a while they even left the Great Hall together so Draco figured his mini-scheme was successful and left it at that. Instead, he focused on making sure he got enough nutrition and then left to find somebody to antagonize.

It was ridiculously early, even though dawn was also later and later every day, and Draco was suffering from some persistent sleep interruptions. He'd been too busy to properly wield his power and he was starting to feel a little out of practice.

Spotting a target, Draco rose from the bench and swaggered over to his pathetic cousin shoveling food in her mouth without any manners or elegance whatsoever. She also looked like a boy at the moment, but Draco knew what Black family magic felt like. She couldn't hide from him.

"Draco?" she muttered with a mouth full of food.

Draco scoffed. "Don't you have any manners?"

She swallowed, brushing a hand over her short, sparkly blue hair and sitting up straight. "Are you talking to me?" she asked for some inane reason.

Rolling his eyes, Draco kicked the bench across from her. "I'm certainly not going to talk to you if you're insisting on eating like a pig. You're not a Weasley."

"Right."

The pause was long and it would probably be awkward if Draco wasn't Draco (in other words, amazing) but as it was he simply said, "You're a disgrace to your family and should be ashamed of yourself."

"My... family?" her eyes widened. Was she sick? He was not going to stick around, no matter how much he wanted to annoy someone, if she was sick. She'd probably have dragon pox and happily use it to kill him off so she could get the lordship.

"The Black family," he said, rolling his eyes and scoffing at the same time. The stupidity.

She blinked. Her eyes widened even more and her hair lit up bright pink. "The Black family."

"Oh Merlin, I'm related to an idiot," Draco groaned in despair. She didn't even manage to respond to that, her mouth so open it'd catch flies, and he decided that this conversation was a lost cause and removed himself before he got infected by her idiocy.

Shuddering, he hurried out of the Great Hall.

Vince and Greg were just on the way in and saluted him when they passed each other but wisely didn't try to talk to him. He was annoyed enough that he'd probably blow up at them and that was bad leadership. His father always emphasized the need to always be in control and never blow up at minions; it made them think they had a chance to grab the leadership for themselves.

Draco hustled outside, the cold morning air sinking knives into his cheeks, and took a deep breath. Tilted his head back and stared up at the white sky, the sun utterly disguised. Inhaling again, Draco hurried behind a tree and plopped down out of direct sight from the castle.

"Bloody Merlin," he muttered, pulling out his wand and casting a quick warming charm on himself. First Theo's nightmares didn't stop, then it turned out his cousin was an idiot?

Today was not a good day.

At least the lesson yesterday had gone well. It might have gotten offtrack and they'd started talking about strange things with their silly muggle brains, but no-one seemed to have caught on to his wicked plan. He was sure he could still get at least four lessons just out of focusing on the goblins and Gringotts!

Sighing, Draco waved his wand again and checked the time. He had a class in the greenhouse today which he was mildly looking forwards to (Hogwarts had a lot more plants than Malfoy Manor had) and he wasn't going to be late. Plus all those other classes. Those were probably important too.

He couldn't stay out here forever and once he'd calmed down and realized that he probably shouldn't have interacted with both a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff in plain sight, he groaned and stomped off to the castle. Broke his way inside and hurried along the halls to his first class of the day, falling into beat with Blaise and Vince and Greg who'd all been waiting outside the Great Hall.

Outside the classroom, Potter and Weasley were muttering to themselves, arguing about something stupid probably. Draco eyed them and thought that this was a shining opportunity.

"Going to class on time?" Draco drawled to Potter and Weasley, sauntering up to them and looking down his nose. He sneered, secure in the knowledge that his minions had his back should the pathetic blood traitors actually have the courage to do something to him. "Trying to suck up to the Professor, are we?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Potter blustered, stone-faced in that way he got when he was sure he was right.

Weasley, who's face was even redder than his hair, pointed at Draco and swore, "Like you're not sucking to every Professor in Hogwarts, with your stupid answers and your grades and mentioning your father all the time!"

"Yeah," Potter jumped in but made no contribution himself. Like the definition of his entire existence.

Snorting, Draco said, "I know the answers, so I get the points."

"You should let somebody else answer, but you're selfish just like your father," Weasley growled.

"So? It's not my fault you're too slow."

Weasley growled, baring his teeth like an animal. It wasn't very scary; he looked more disgruntled rat than anything else. Draco outright laughed at him but he was prevented from making a more clever resort (honestly, this interaction was not his best work but nobody would ever catch him admitting that out loud) by the appearance of the Professor.

Draco made a point to raise his hand at every single question, lording his superiority over Weasley's head just to get him to erupt. He wasn't waiting in vain, either, because Weasley interrupted the middle of the lesson with a loud, "Why do you always call on Malfoy?!" at the Professor.

The Professor gazed at him. "Do you know the answer?"

"Well, no, but-" Weasley sank in his seat, face red.

The Professor turned away from him and asked, "Malfoy, your answer?"

Smirking, Draco leisurely answered, spelling it out with baby words just for Weasley's benefit. Such a shame the boy was too busy sulking to pay attention.

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