wraithvault

C2

The mudblood girl was weirdly insistent on being called ”Granger” of all things. He supposed it was probably a name, but it was certainly a very poor one in that case. Still, since she had finally agreed to help him with his genius plan, he gracefully made this concession.

”Come with me, Granger,” he said, leading the way to the abandoned classroom he’d found in the dungeons. It was in the middle ground between the Slytherin and Hufflepuff dormitories, which was great considering that Hufflepuffs had lots of mudbloods. There were no paintings nearby either, which meant that Dumbledore wouldn’t be able to spy on them (everybody knew that the portraits did that, seriously, use your common sense).

Granger huffed something behind him, but followed him in. He’d already gotten the place ready with the help of Greg and Vince; there was plenty of light to see the many tables and chairs and the cleaned blackboard at the front.

”Did you do what I asked?” Draco asked, walking up to the great, big desk next to the blackboard and hopping up on it.

Granger wearily looked around and sat down on the nearest chair when she was satisfied that there was no danger. ”Yes,” she said and pulled up a sheet. ”This is a list of all the muggleborns in Gryffindor.”

She handed the list over to him. Grabbing it with a hum, Draco read it quickly, his eyes skimming over the long list of names. Some were just as nonsensical as Granger, but others could almost be mistaken for proper wizard names. He put the list down after that cursory glance and looked squarely at Granger, ”How many do you think would be interested in our lessons?”

He added the word our simply to make her feel included, and thus more likely to give him unpaid labor.

”I added a star at the end of every name who I think would be,” she said, humphing at little.

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not gonna give you a discount just because you worked hard." Strangely, this made her light up,her grin small but noticeably. She even ducked her head and Draco tilted his head in confusion. What did that mean? Was it... shyness? Girls were shy, right? Pansy was always accusing him of not understanding girls' hearts and misunderstanding girls' need for validation and encouragement.

"So what now?" Granger cleared her throat. She sidled up next to him—Draco hid his shudder at having a mudblood so closer—and looked over the sheet of paper. "Are you going to talk to them?"

"No," Draco quickly decided. He absolutely could not be seen voluntarily talking to mudbloods. His parents would hear about it instantly and he'd probably be disinherited within minutes. "You do it," he said instead, handing the piece of paper back over to her. "You're my second in command, anyway."

"Second in command?"

Draco nodded. "Right. It means you get the shit done while I give directions."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "You mean... that I'm going to talk to everyone alone?"

"I'm a Slytherin," Draco gave her a pitying look that instantly made her straighten up. "I can't be approaching Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs out of nowhere. I'll probably just scare them to death," he pointed out. She did nod at this, a slow movement that sped up as her mind worked and she realized he was right. He messy hair bounced around her shoulders at her movement, striking against his cheek, and he sneezed.

"I see," she muttered, finally stepping back. She shoved the papers back into her book-bag and gazed at him silently with a serious expression for a long moment. "Is this where you want to keep meeting up?" she finally glanced around.

"Yes, at least to start with." Draco pointed to the blackboard and the abandoned desks littering the ancient classroom. "When you recruit somebody, tell them to come here on Sundays. We'll sart off once a week with some introduction to normal wizarding culture, you know the day to day stuff. Just a basic class so people get a chance to see what they're paying for, and then I'll do more classes specializing in the different aspects." Narrowing his eyes, he added, "Each class will cost 1 Galleon a month."

Granger said,"Alright. I'll do my best."

"I'm sure that will be more than good enough," said Draco, trying to sound kind and selfless and nice. "Your best is doubtlessly amazing. Otherwise you wouldn't have been my first choice for this."

"First choice?" Granger's eyes widened.

"Yes," Draco smiled.

She blinked rapidly. "Oh," she said. She took a step back, her hands clenching on the book-bag's strap. She looked at the floor for so long that Draco couldn't even bear looking at her, the awkwardness palpable in the air. Finally, though, Granger cleared her throat and said, "Right. I'll get right on this. Right." She nodded and then ran right out of the room.

Draco rolled his eyes as soon as the door shut behind her.

Then he pulled out his notebook, ticking off another box in his Master Plan™ To-Do List™. Humming to himself, Draco scooted up on the desk and sat upon it with his legs crossed, looking over his whole list once more. He thought it looked pretty nice all laid out so properly, with his beautiful handwriting being the very cherry on top. Smiling, he then put away the notebook again.

"Alright," he said to himself, standing and dusting off. Glancing around, he pondered on all the things he'd need to get ready. First of all the classroom was super dank and dusty and smelled hideously. Somebody had definitely made potions in here without the proper ventilation.

Sighing, Draco wondered off.

Since he was already in the dungeons and pretty close to the Hufflepuff dorms, he might as well go straight to the kitchens and get the next box on his Master Plan™ To-Do List™ ticked off. He hummed once more as he went, an old lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was a little kid. It had been stuck in his head all morning, and he checked the time with a quick swish f his wand as he walked.

The hallways were empty this far below the castle. The lights flickered, the stonework immaculate despite the old age. Draco's steps echoed, proceeding his every turn.

At the kitchen door, he gained entrance easily. The secret password had been revealed by an older Slytherin as soon as he entered the school but it's the first time he used it. Draco glanced around before he entered, making double-sure that nobody was around. Exhaling, Draco then entered.

A couple hundred house-elves turned to look at him.

"Bloody—!" he bit it off. Taking a deep breath, he counted to three in his head and smiled beatifically. "Hello," he greeted them perfectly, kindness practically bleeding off of him. Look at him, being so kind and gracious and magnanimous (whatever that meant). "I'm looking for an house-elf to help me with a personal project, if it's not too much trouble." So much kindness. So much graciousness. So much grace.

Draco preened.

Most of the house-elves turned away from him then. They went back to their chores and Draco stepped further into the room, studying all the elves closest. A couple of them were studying him in return, muttering between them. Draco smiled kindly, projecting gentleness like a magical shield.

Eventually, a single house-elf stepped forward. "What cans we be doing for Young Master Malfoy?"

"I'm a very kind person," Draco said, bending down so he was at the same height level, making sure the elf could really see how kind and selfless his eyes were . He'd worked hard on them, even using little eye-drops so they'd have extra shine! For the impact to be missed would be utterly infuriating, and so he even bent forward a little. Once he could see his own reflection in the house-elves' eyes, he smiled at them. "I'm going to be helping a few fellow students studying but the classroom we found is very, very dirty. If I could trouble some equally kindhearted house-elf to keep it clean for us?" Widening his eyes, Draco held his breath.

(Maximum hopeful and innocent young student image™achieved. 100 points to Draco.)

The house-elf's eyes widened, beginning to glisten. "Young Master Malfoy be helping Hogwarts?" they asked, twiddling their thumbs. (Draco did not realize that house-elves had thumbs. Huh.)

"Yes," he said, smiling super kindly like a super kindhearted student.

Super kindly.

The house-elf jumped on their toes. "Young Master Malfoy be helping Hogwarts!" they exclaimed, bouncing up and down. Draco discreetly scooted back a little, but thankfully the house-elf was too busy to notice. "Young Master Malfoy be needing help to keep room clean?" they then clarified, ears twitching.

"Exactly," said Draco, finally standing. Legs aching from the unexpected exercise, he dusted off his thighs. "I'll be so busy helping the other poor students improve and so I won't have time keeping the classroom clean and in order..." here, a suitably mournful expression.

The house-elf rushed to say, "Me help Young Master Malfoy!" even raising their hands above their head.

"That's so kind of you," Draco said, truly dragging out the smile over his face until it hurt. Only then did he freeze, but now it felt odd and strange on his face. Finally, he said, "And if you don't mind, I hope that you can keep this a secret for me. Especially which room we're using," here, he winked.

With both eyes.

Winking was hard, okay!

The house-elf nodded frantically. "I keep secret!" they practically yelled, and Draco scooted another step back. Now that the most critical conversation here had taken place, he was starting to realize exactly how much was happening in here. There were hundreds of house-elves running around to get dinner ready, and the noise was cacophonous. Looking around, he spotted so much food it almost made him sick.

"Come find sometime when I'm alone and you're not busy, and we can work out the details," Draco told the house-elf, barely waiting for a nod before he was running out.

Bloody shit.

Outside, Draco wheezed for a moment. House-elves were so ugly, none of them measuring up to Libby's objective perfection. Libby, of course, being his personal house-elf since his childhood.

Of course, at eleven, Draco was no longer so reliant on Libby.

He could clean his room on his own now, just like an adult.

"Ugh," Draco sneered as he walked away, disgusted that he had fallen so low. To think, this was what he was doing during his first week at Hogwarts instead of befriending Potter. Now he was just... some kind of common conman; a failure trying desperately to cling onto some dignity.

Draco frowned as he returned to the Slytherin dorms. Blaise and Theo were playing exploding snap in the common room and Draco joined them for a few rounds before he said, "My plan is coming along perfectly." Blaise and Theo hummed in unison. Draco sighed, rolled his eyes, and added, "The plan to become the most brilliant student at Hogwarts."

"Oh that one?" Blaise murmured, attention still on the game.

Draco rolled his eyes again and slouched in his seat, sinking into the cushy sofa. "Yes, that one."

Theo looked between them and finally shrugged, evidently uninterested in Draco's devious and nefarious Master Plan™ which really just showcased his bad taste. Draco's plan was a thing of beauty, of expertise never before seen at Hogwarts. He had no doubt that he was going to turn the whole school upside down with his masterful scheme, his cunning mind surely a gift from Merlin himself.

"Draco? Your homework?" Blaise waved his hand in front of Draco's face, and Draco shoved it away.

"It's fine," he said, "I've found some naive minions who'll be doing most of the work for me."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Great, but that's not what I asked." At Draco's put-upon expression (not a pout!) he added, "Will you help me with the Potions homework? I assume you're already done with yours."

"Of course, I'm not a loser," Draco said. At Blaise's unimpressed stare, Draco rolled his shoulders and said, "Fine, I'll help you. What do you need assistance with?"

Blaise smiled, scooting closer and dumping the Potions textbook on the table. Theo asked, "So are we not playing anymore?" and Blaise waved his question away. Theo, in turn, rolled his eyes and threw the cards on the table, picking up his own textbook and instantly ignoring them both. Draco didn't say anything about this, focusing instead on helping Blaise before the boy had a chance to complain.

It was, in the end, quick work. Blaise wasn't stupid and Draco was a pretty damn good teacher and even better at Potions, so it was really just rephrasing things from the textbook so they made sense to Blaise.

"Okay," said Blaise when they were done, shutting his notebook with a quiet bang that made Theo flinch. "Are you really going to do your strange plan to, what did you call it, make the mudbloods realize how much better than them you are? Like, you're really really doing it?"

"Yes, I am," Draco frowned. "I've already put it in motion, I told you. I can't back out now, then Granger will think I'm a coward."

"Who's Granger?"

"The bushy-haired mudblood from Gryffindor." Draco smugly said, "I tricked her into doing all the work for me."

Blaise took a deep breath. He looked over at Theo. "It's time for dinner," Blaise declared, directly bypassing everything Draco just said and if he wasn't still riding high on his success, that might have pissed him off. But today, and today only, he's still pleased with his hugely successful manipulation tactics and so he's in a forgiving mood.

"Yeah, let's go." Draco stood and looked around for Greg and Vince, finally spotting them hiding away in some remote corner. The fireplace in the center of the common room was in full swing, scattering flickering lights and creeping shadows around the whole room. Snake motifs were everywhere, a couple of portraits hanging on the high walls and gazing down on them with thinly veiled disdain.

Draco headed right for his minions, curtly saying, "Dinner time," and heading away again before he even got a response. As predicted they followed right after him, walking up on either side of him as they left the dorms and headed for the Great Hall.

With his usual posse of minions surrounding him, Draco walked into the Great Hall with his head held high. His gaze instantly shot to the Gryffindor table, noting that Granger was in the middle of talking to some other kid almost as bushy-haired as she was. Pleased that she was presumably taking her duties seriously, Draco then searched out Potter—who was sitting with a bunch of Weasleys.

Clicking his tongue, Draco scowled and looked up at the main table at the head of the hall. Severus discreetly nodded at him and Draco just as discreetly nodded back. Blaise snicked beside him.

Draco stomped to his seat and flopped down ungracefully. Pansy asked, "What's got your knickers in a twist?" while sipping pumpkin juice from a elegant teacup because she was a heathen. He made a disgusted noise at her, and she scowled in reply and said, "It's only a question, you know."

"Questions are what leads us down stray paths," Draco responded, ignorant of the meaning but his father had said it a few times so he figured it was an elegant and meaningful phrase. Certainly it was more elegant than Pansy.

Pansy, though, failed to realize this and said, "This is why you're never gonna get married."

"You're just resentful mother nullified our marriage contract," Draco swiftly retaliated.

She scoffed. "Please, that was five years ago."

Before Draco could make another clever, witty comment to win the argument (at least he thought they were arguing, he honestly wasn't very sure) Dumbledore swept into the hall from a tiny nook somewhere, dressed once more utterly horrendously. Draco quickly averted his eyes before he could become infected by whatever strange disease Dumbledore was so obviously afflicted with.

Thankfully, Dumbledore didn’t feel the need to hold another speech this evening and they were ale to et right to the foo. Draco found himself far more starved than he’d thought, his stomach empty to the core when he actually thought it. He nearly tossed (in a very elegant manner as befitting of a pureblood, obviously) the food into his mouth, swallowing before he was even finished chewing.

Scheming took a lot more energy than he’d thought.

But that was just another sign that he was onto something great!

”Do you know what Draco is doing these days?” Blaise asked Daphne, the girl sitting beside him and peering at a fashion magazine together with him under the table as they ate. Draco supposed that fashion nuts would be fashion nuts and didn’t do anything.

Besides, she was a Slytherin. She wouldn’t blab about his genius plan to the wrong people.

While Blaise regaled Daphne with Draco’s geniuses, Draco finished his meal and swallowed the last of his juice, slumping down over the table as soon as the dishes disappeared. Stomach now bloated and uncomfortable, he groaned into the ancient wood. ”You totally deserved that,” Pansy said beside him, and Draco flipped her off distractedly.

Instantly, he winced. He couldn’t believe he lost self-control so easily! With bated breath, he waited to see what Pansy would do in retaliation.

”I’m telling your mother,” was what Pansy ended up saying.

Draco shot up straight and grabbed her by the shoulders. ”Don’t and I’ll owe you a favor.”

”Deal,” Pansy smugly smiled.

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