XXVIII: Spring Cleaning

Chapter XXVIII: Spring Cleaning

Albus Dumbledore rolled out the letter he had just received in front of him, spectacles perched on the end of his nose. The Ministry seal confirmed it was the letter he had been expecting for weeks, and he could guess its contents. Shaking the parchment flat, he began to read.

Dear Headmaster,

Minister of Magical Education

Dumbledore's mouth quirked as he put the parchment down on his desk and absently toyed with his beard as he took in the words. The plan to get him out of Hogwarts was finally in action then.

And what executioners had been chosen! Those governors all seemed to be in Lucius Malfoy's pocket in some way or other. The Montgomerys were related by marriage, the Smythes had collaborated with the Malfoys in business for decades, and McCoy had escaped Azkaban just as Lucius had at the end of the first war. It was all an elaborate charade, carefully crafted to oust Dumbledore as Headmaster. Undoubtedly, the governors would find fault with the school, even if they would have to create it themselves, and at last the Ministry would have an excuse to get rid of him and replace him with the Grand Inquisitor herself. He had a week, then, to prepare.

He sighed lightly, opening his desk drawer to fish for a Sherbet Lemon. He wasn't worried. Snape had already been instructed to keep an eye on the children, and there was absolutely no doubt that his formidable Heads of Houses would do their utmost to protect the school in his absence and make life as difficult for the charming Professor Umbridge as possible. At this thought, Dumbledore's mouth cracked into a full smile. Yes, he could trust his faculty. He could even trust some of them with his life.

He popped the sweet into his mouth, taking comfort from the familiar flavour, before pulling a blank piece of parchment towards him and grabbing his quill to pen a letter of his own.

Dearest colleagues,

Albus

After rolling the scroll up neatly, he stood and approached Fawkes, his beautiful fiery red phoenix, who was resting his head under his wing and snoozing gently. He reached out his fingers and stroked the bird's plumage softly, and the phoenix made a contented warbling sound before lifting his head up and blinking benevolently at his master.

Dumbledore smiled, tilting his head and offering the parchment to the bird, who took it in one of his sharp black claws.

'The Heads of Houses only please, if you do not mind, Fawkes,' the Headmaster said softly. 'I will be sure to have some fresh Billywigs for you when you return.'

Fawkes made a chirruping sound of agreement and let his master stroke his plumage once more before clapping his wings together and disappearing in a flash of light.

Later that same day, Dumbledore was joined in his office by his most trusted faculty members. Minerva looked stern, as usual. Pomona had a speck of dirt on her cheek. Filius had a book in his hand and looked up expectantly. And Severus, dear, dear Severus, looked like he was about to turn into a tempest any second.

Dumbledore smiled fondly, his blue eyes twinkling characteristically.

'Thank you all for coming this evening,' he started, peering at each and every one of them over his crescent moon glasses with his hands clasped on the desk. 'As you know, it was from a recommendation from Professor Umbridge that we are to be visited by governors for inspection. I can now confirm that four governors will be gracing us for dinner and an overnight stay on Tuesday, in order to carry out a full inspection the following day.'

He noted that each of his faculty shared the same sour and disapproving expression at the news.

'I can see you are as thrilled as I am at the news of our guests,' he continued with a smile. 'The Minister for Magical Education has informed me that he would like four students, one from each House, to show the governors around during their stay. As you know the students in your own Houses best, I would like to seek your advice on who should be nominated for this, ah, honour.'

'I assume they want seventh-years?' Professor Sprout asked with a touch of irritation.

'That is correct, Pomona,' Dumbledore confirmed.

'Such disruption!' she protested. 'The NEWT students should not be distracted in such a way!'

'I agree with you, Pomona, but alas, the situation is out of my hands,' the Headmaster replied mildly.

The Herbology professor sighed testily. 'I recommend Mr Fawcett, then. He is one of my best students,' she said firmly.

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. 'Yes, the boy is a real asset to your House.'

'May I make a recommendation from my own House, Headmaster?' Minerva McGonagall followed swiftly. 'Angelina Johnson? Delightful, talented young witch.'

'Another excellent choice, thank you, Minerva,' Dumbledore conceded. Then he turned his attention to Ravenclaw House. 'Any suggestions, Filius?'

The tiny Charms professor beamed beatifically. 'Charis Byrne, definitely Charis Byrne. Most talented witch in the year.'

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in response. 'Yes, I am sure she will be able to cope admirably with this task. And you, Severus?'

Snape was standing in his usual position of disapproval: arms crossed in front of his chest, scowling menacingly. 'I assume Mr Malfoy has already made a request?' he asked archly.

The Headmaster looked pointedly at Snape. 'Indeed he has, but I am sure I am not alone in thinking this is a... somewhat inappropriate choice...'

Snape's scowl suddenly took on an extra shade of black. 'And not possible, either. Miss Belakane takes extra Potions lessons on Tuesdays. She will not be available to entertain the governors after dinner,' he added with finality.

'Yes, Morgana has quite enough on her plate at the moment,' the Headmaster agreed, inclining his head. 'So who do you suggest?'

'I suggest Mr Miles Bletchley, Headmaster,' Snape announced without any further explanation. The Headmaster had asked for his opinion, and he had now given it. There was nothing more to add.

'Very well.'

'Albus, if I may,' Minerva started, her wire-rimmed spectacles hanging precariously from her nose, 'Why should Mr Malfoy presume he is getting a Slytherin student guide anyway? Maybe it might be prudent to... mix the Houses,' she suggested.

Dumbledore nodded carefully, stroking his beard. 'An excellent suggestion, Minerva. I was actually thinking exactly the same thing. In fact, I was rather thinking Charis would be the best candidate to escort Lucius...'

The old man's eyes twinkled as he turned his gaze first to Flitwick, then Snape.

'Headmaster, is that a wise idea?' Snape asked smoothly, a pained expression on his face. 'Miss Byrne is Muggle-born.'

'Yes, she is,' Dumbledore replied, his eyes now firmly on his Potions master. 'She is also one of the best pupils in this school.'

'You are aware that Malfoy will hold that fact against you?' Snape asked, his black eyes boring back into twinkling blue.

'Do you think Charis will fail to be an exemplary student in front of Lucius, Severus?'

'Surely not. The question is, will Malfoy be capable of being an exemplary governor in front of her?'

'He cannot pose a threat to her whilst in these walls, Severus,' the Headmaster answered calmly. 'However, this is for Filius to decide. Miss Byrne is his student, after all.'

'I stand by my decision,' Flitwick squeaked defiantly. 'Charis will do both her House and her school proud. And in these times, we should be proud of our diversity and unite. Not pander to bigotry!'

'Well said, Filius,' Dumbledore agreed, clapping his hands together as McGonagall and Sprout smiled fondly at the Head of Ravenclaw House. Snape, meanwhile, still looked sour.

'Albus, maybe we should ask Miss Byrne if she feels she is up to the task,' Minerva opined. 'After all, it is not a pleasurable task we are offering her. Especially as Malfoy's son seems to have daggers out for the poor girl.'

The Headmaster thought about this for a few moments. 'Yes, there does seem to be some tension between those two. Very well. Filius, would you mind asking Charis to join us?'

With a nod, the tiny Charms professor slipped from his stool and made his way back to Ravenclaw Tower.

'Headmaster, have you really thought this through?' Snape interjected again. The whole thing was clearly madness. Malfoy would eat the poor girl for breakfast, and she did not deserve to be brought into this mess, not when everyone knew what strong views the Malfoys held about Muggle-borns. In addition to that, Malfoy was already on the path to destroying one of his students, and Snape did not want to see Charis become yet another of Malfoy's victims.

'Do you have any objections?' Dumbledore countered calmly.

'I think Malfoy will manage to turn this against you somehow,' Snape pointed out once more, hoping it would sink in this time. 'He will take it as a personal insult to be paired up with a Muggle-born.'

'Are you saying we should put our Muggle-borns into hiding?' Dumbledore asked incredulously. 'Pretend they do not exist for the sake of the governors?'

'I never said that, Headmaster!' Snape began to protest.

'Muggle-borns are just as much a part of this school and our society as anyone else, despite what Malfoy may think,' Dumbledore replied, the twinkle in his eyes now replaced by a flinty stare. 'I will not be intimidated by Lucius Malfoy. And, as we have established, it is for Charis to decide whether she will accept this task.'

Before Snape could voice another protest, the old oak door of the Headmaster's office swung open and Flitwick led Charis through to the awaiting Heads of Houses.

Charis had felt worried from the moment her Head of House had approached her in the common room. And once she saw the whole core faculty was gathered in the Headmaster's office, she felt even more worried. What had she done? Maybe her Mudblood T-shirt had been a step too far and they were going to punish her. Or even worse: had they found out about her and Severus? Maybe she would be expelled and Snape would be fired. Either way, she was certainly in trouble about something. And a quick glance at Snape, who merely scowled back, did little to quash her fears.

'Professor, if this is about Lily and her little accident in the library, I can explain...' she began, but was cut off by Dumbledore's jovial chuckle.

'No, dear Charis, this is not about your adorable kitten. Please, have a seat.'

Charis perched on the edge of an armchair nervously, feeling the weight of all eyes upon her.

'Charis, you may have heard the rumours about some school governors coming to Hogwarts for inspection?' Dumbledore started.

Charis nodded. 'Umbridge ... I mean, Professor Umbridge's doing, I expect,' she answered quickly.

Dumbledore gave a perfunctory smile. 'Yes, Professor Umbridge might be involved. Those rumours aren't rumours anymore, and the governors are in fact visiting us next week. And they will need to be guided around the castle by a student each, one from each House. And you, Charis, have been chosen for this task.'

'Oh!' Charis felt a mixture of shock and relief. So she was not in trouble! But if she was one of four students chosen for the task, why had the other three not been called to the Headmaster's office? And why was Snape looking like at her like he had Kneazle dung smeared under his nose?

'Now, Charis, before you decide, we need to inform you which governor you will be assigned to,' Dumbledore continued. He looked around patiently at his faculty, waiting for one of them to spill the beans.

Charis' stomach swooped with a pang of premonition. This was not going to be good.

As no one else seemed to have the guts to say anything, Snape took a step forwards. 'You will be assigned to Mr Malfoy,' he said in a cold, disapproving tone.

Charis swallowed drily. 'I see.'

Malfoy. Impregnator of her best friend. Blood status obsessive. Merciless killer. And father of a little shit who was currently making her life hell. Such joy!

'Charis, you do not have to,' Flitwick said quickly.

'We will all understand...' agreed McGonagall.

Charis closed her eyes for a second, thinking of Malfoy's git of a son and everything he had put her through this year. The incident with the charmed drawing. The set-up with Zabini. And his outburst when she had been studying her family tree in the library. Then she flared her nostrils, thinking of how triumphant she had felt when she had worn the Mudblood T-shirt and openly defied him, and decided she was not going to feel inferior to the little worm any longer.

'Well, Charis?' the Headmaster coaxed gently.

'Sir, I would be happy to show Mr Malfoy the castle,' Charis replied, looking expectantly up at Snape. To her chagrin, the look he gave her in return could make the sun freeze.

Dumbledore, however, seemed thrilled. 'Excellent,' he began. 'Now, Charis, it is important that Mr Malfoy is happy with his visit. Show him the best side of Hogwarts. And what is even more important, Charis: do not let him intimidate you.'

'Do you have any suggestions of what I should show him?' Charis asked, trying to ignore the knot that was building in her stomach.

'I am sure Mr Malfoy will let you know what he'd like to see,' Dumbledore replied, smiling kindly. 'Now, the governors will arrive on Tuesday night. They expect their guides to have dinner with them. On Wednesday, they will most probably want to accompany you to your lessons.'

Charis opened her eyes wide. Dinner? With Lucius Malfoy? How could she possibly eat sitting next to that man? And whatever would they talk about? His preferred techniques in Muggle torture?

'There will be a special table in the Great Hall reserved for the governors,' the Headmaster went on. 'Now, Charis, it is only fair to warn you. Mr Malfoy is not expecting YOU to be his guide.' He looked at the girl over the rims of his half-moon glasses. 'He might be somewhat, ah, disappointed.'

'I can imagine, sir,' she replied quietly. Of course, Malfoy would expect his mistress, the mother of his child. Then she frowned. Why had the Heads not chosen Morgana?

Snape exhaled sharply through his nose. 'And it should go without saying, Miss Byrne, that you should behave like an exemplary student at all times, which means sticking to the uniform in exact detail... which is more than can be said for your behaviour last Saturday.'

At this comment, Charis had the good grace to look down sheepishly.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, was smiling widely. 'Now, Charis, do you have any further questions?'

'Will Mr Malfoy know I am his guide before he gets here?' she asked with genuine concern. She doubted Malfoy liked surprises, especially those of a Muggle-born nature.

'Yes, I will dispatch an owl to the Ministry tonight,' the Headmaster confirmed.

'I hope I will not disappoint you, or the school, with this task, sir,' Charis replied humbly. Although she was putting up a brave face, she did not like this. Not one single bit.

'We are convinced that you will handle this task admirably, dear girl,' Dumbledore assured Charis as he guided her to the door. 'You and the other three students will come to my office for further information next Tuesday afternoon. But for now, you may return to your common room.'

As she bade goodnight around the room to her professors, Charis noticed each one of them in turn offered a friendly smile. All that was apart from Severus, who was still glowering like he'd lost a Galleon and found a Knut.

* * *

Charis was beyond nervous when Tuesday evening finally rolled around. She stood waiting in silence in the Entrance Hall next to Dumbledore, her palms slightly sweaty, looking towards the great oak door every two seconds. The other three governors had arrived promptly and were now seated in the Great Hall with their House representatives. Malfoy, however, had Floo'd the Headmaster earlier that day saying he would be slightly delayed due to business. But surely, he just wanted to make a big entrance.

Charis felt the knot in her stomach tighten with each passing minute. She was secretly hoping that Malfoy's business would force him to postpone the visit. But just when she thought Dumbledore might turn to her and suggest taking a seat in the Hall without her guest, the great oak door swung open with a creak and there in the doorway stood none other Lucius Malfoy himself.

Charis swallowed dryly as she watched Malfoy walk towards her and Dumbledore, his expensive thick cloak billowing behind him and his snake-headed cane tucked under one arm. There was no doubt, the man was elegant and good-looking. He was immaculately dressed, with not a single platinum hair out of place. His bearing was proud and almost regal.

Like a peacock, Charis thought to herself. Strutting on through like he owned the place. She could see where his son got his confidence. And his cockiness.

Malfoy inclined his head and smiled politely.

'Professor Dumbledore, apologies for the delay. As I explained, most urgent business.' His silver-blue eyes glinted like steel. He seemed truly remorseful.

Dumbledore merely nodded. 'Dinner is yet to start, and we would not dream of starting without you.' He offered Malfoy a polite smile in return before turning to Charis. 'May I introduce your guide for your stay? Mr Malfoy, this is Charis Byrne. Charis, this is Mr Malfoy.'

'Nice to meet you, sir,' Charis looked up at the blond wizard with a shy smile. And both she and Dumbledore saw a shadow pass over Malfoy's face as he observed her.

The shadow was, however, immediately replaced by a fake smile, and Malfoy nodded curtly at Charis. 'Miss Byrne, the pleasure is all mine. Draco has told me all about you.' He inclined his head once more with a little smirk.

Charis could feel her bile rising. Of course, Draco would tattle to daddy all about the Mudblood who had made him miss Quidditch practice for the rest of the season. And daddy was certainly just as unhappy as Draco. Oh, why had she agreed to this?

Gallantly, she offered Malfoy another smile and was spared anything further by Dumbledore ushering her and her guest into the packed hall.

The House tables were full of chattering students as usual, but directly in front of the raised staff table was another table where escorts and governors sat facing each other and happily talking away.

Charis walked silently up to their table with Malfoy by her side, acutely aware of Snape's eyes boring into her skull. Whatever did he want from her? It was not like she had been the one to choose this task.

She also noticed Malfoy giving a small, curt nod towards Draco at the Slytherin table. The little ferret grinned smugly at first, then looked confused as he noticed what company his father was keeping. And Charis couldn't help but feel a little triumphant. The memory of his precious daddy being escorted by a Mudblood would certainly give the little twit nightmares for weeks to come. But the glee was replaced by disgust when Charis saw Malfoy give a wolfish smile towards Morgana, who smiled back in response. The thought of Morgana sleeping with that foul creature suddenly made Charis very angry.

'You must be very proud of your son, Mr Malfoy,' she offered in a calm voice as Lucius stepped behind her to pull out her chair for her and then thanked him politely.

'Draco is my first born. He has been brought up with the values of our family,' Malfoy drawled, walking around the table and taking a seat himself. 'Values that might be beyond your understanding, Miss Byrne.'

Charis knew the comment was intended as a barb, but she let it wash over her, pushing her anger down. She could not afford to let Malfoy get to her.

'The Malfoys are one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain, so I understand,' she started as she poured them both some water.

Lucius arched an eyebrow and peered down his nose imperiously at her. 'Do you indeed? I understand you, on the other hand, are Muggle-born, Miss Byrne?'

Charis inwardly winced. In her attempt to engage Malfoy in conversation she had unwittingly chanced upon the one topic she should have stayed clear of. Talking about her blood status to a known Death Eater was tantamount to signing her own death warrant. Still, there was nothing she could do now.

'That is correct, sir,' she replied politely, her warm green eyes meeting cold silvery-blue.

She watched as the elegant blond wizard shook out his napkin and placed in his lap with a fluid motion. 'First witch in your family?' he asked with a lazy drawl.

'As far as I'm aware, yes, sir. Although I come from a town near Glastonbury, which is in the ancient vale of Avalon. So who knows?'

Charis smiled awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. But to her misfortune, her comment about Avalon had struck a chord, and Lucius' mouth twitched slightly. The Belakanes had descended from that same mystical place the Mudblood was talking about. And the very idea of the future mother of the Heir of Slytherin being in close contact with such scum made Lucius' skin crawl.

'You surely do not mean that you might in any way be related to the line of the Merlin, do you Miss Byrne?' he enquired.

His voice was smooth and almost playful, but the steely undertone of his words was not lost on Charis.

'Oh, I am sure I'm not that gifted, sir,' she answered quickly. 'But Avalon, as you know, is steeped in mystery and magic. Maybe a little has rubbed off on me.'

Charis smiled again, hoping her vague and naive answer would let them close the topic of blood status. Still, she saw Malfoy's nose wrinkle ever so slightly. But before he had chance to respond, Dumbledore stood on the plinth and officially welcomed the governors.

Charis felt Snape looking directly at her as the Headmaster mentioned something about pupils being on their best behaviour for our esteemed guests, and she lowered her gaze. What did he expect from her? That she would throw herself at Malfoy?

Dumbledore's speech was short and sweet, and as soon as he had finished, the food appeared magically on their plates. Once more, Malfoy wrinkled his nose in distaste, both at the food and the goblets which were now filling with pumpkin juice.

Charis noticed his disapproval and saw this as a chance to change the subject for good. 'Has the food changed much since you were here, Mr Malfoy?' she asked conversationally.

Lucius picked at his chicken with his fork, his nostrils flaring. 'Unfortunately, no,' he sneered, 'which is surprising, actually, seeing as I have lost an elf to Dumbledore's kitchen, thanks to the resident celebrity Mr Potter.'

Charis began to eat what was, by normal people's standards, really nice chicken. It was moist and cooked in its own juices and the gravy was rich and flavoursome. If this was inferior cooking to Malfoy, Charis could not imagine what culinary wonders he was used to.

'How many elves do you have, sir, if you don't mind me asking?'

'Not that it is any of your concern, Miss Byrne, but I now own six elves. One of my best cooking elves unfortunately passed away last week. Fell down the stairs, poor thing.'

Malfoy smirked across the table at Charis and in that moment reminded her completely of his arrogant son. Surely, he had shoved the poor elf down the stairs with his walking stick without even batting an eyelash.

'I am sorry to hear that, sir,' she replied, disturbed at the fake sincerity dripping from Malfoy's tongue.

Lucius sipped delicately at his pumpkin juice. 'I will have a new one delivered by Friday,' he answered carelessly. How dare the Mudblood even ask about his household when she, by the looks of it, most certainly had grown up in a shed?

'So, Miss Byrne,' he started after some moments, placing his goblet back down on the table. 'The Magic of Avalon might have rubbed off on you, you said... Tell me then, what is your point of view in regards to the question of Muggles stealing magic?'

Charis was taken aback by the question, but managed to compose herself swiftly. 'I would honestly say that it would be giving Muggles too much credit to be able to outwit someone who could perform magic, sir,' she said carefully, not wanting to step on Malfoy's toes. 'Magic being an abstract, intangible trait... A Muggle could no more steal magic than I could steal the wind from the skies.'

To her surprise, Malfoy actually looked amused at her answer. But she wasn't off the hook yet.

'Then how do you explain, Miss Byrne, that Muggles can produce magical offspring?' he enquired, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded.

Charis took a deep breath. Malfoy wanted an answer, so she would give him one. She had studied the subject, after all. 'Magical transference is difficult to explain. Logically, it would appear to be largely genetic, which would lead to the assumption that magical lineage resides generally within the gene pool.'

Malfoy once again quirked an eyebrow at her. 'Are you suggesting, then, that the Muggle gene might be the dominant one? Seeing as you yourself are the first witch in your family?'

'I am suggesting that somewhere in my ancestry must be a Wizarding gene, which for whatever reason skipped through generations, and that I am lucky enough to have in my own genetic make-up. So, somewhere back in time, there must have been a witch or wizard that bred into my family, sir, in order for me to have had these powers.'

At this comment, Charis saw Malfoy's face darken. All traces of humour had disappeared from his features.

'You have given this a fair bit of thought, Miss Byrne,' he answered softly, his jaw tight.

'This seems to be the most plausible explanation to my mind, at least,' Charis replied, resisting the urge to bite her nails. Malfoy's stare was making her uneasy.

'Ah, I forgot, you are a Ravenclaw, after all,' Malfoy commented. 'Ravenclaws appear to have an unquenchable thirst for sticking their beaks into matters which should not concern them.'

He pushed away his plate as an awkward and frosty silence descended, and Charis kept her eyes on her own plate. The last thing she had wanted to do was to upset Lucius Malfoy. But he had asked her opinion, and she had given it to him. Now he was most certainly upset, and Charis decided that keeping her mouth shut would be the best thing to do at the moment.

When she dared to look up again after what seemed like an eternity, she saw the blond wizard take another sip of his pumpkin juice. And to her surprise, the expression on his face had become neutral once more.

'Now, Miss Byrne, tell me: how is the mood in the castle, among the students I mean?'

Charis was relieved at the change of topic. For a moment she thought she had made Malfoy very angry indeed.

'Well, currently, all the seventh-years are in bit of a flurry due to the upcoming NEWT examinations,' she replied. 'I'm sure Madam Pince hasn't seen the library so popular.'

She smiled, and Lucius watched her carefully.

'Of course, coming to the end of the school year means coming to the end of the Quidditch season. It's quite close this year; any of the Houses could take it.'

'And how are the inter-house relationships, seen from your point of view?' Lucius asked, checking his cuticles casually. Not that he really cared, but he wanted the girl to feel secure. She would give him all the information he desired soon enough.

'I think a little rivalry is healthy,' Charis went on, 'in the form of the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup. It keeps things interesting.'

'But otherwise, the Houses should get along, is that what you are saying, Miss Byrne?'

Malfoy looked at her with his silver-blue eyes once more. Those eyes were so cold and so devoid of emotion they made the hairs stand up on the back of Charis' neck. And she could not understand how anyone could ever fall for that man.

'Well, there will always be banter,' she started carefully, 'but there is no need for... open hostility, in my view.' What she really wanted to say was that little Slytherin shits like Malfoy's son should be sent to Azkaban indefinitely for their bullying tactics and disruptive ways. But she held her peace. Who knew what Malfoy would do to her if she opened her mouth? He was a Death Eater, after all.

Lucius' lips curled into a smirk at Charis' comment as dessert appeared on their plates: a huge slice of warm chocolate cake with fluffy whipped cream.

'Would you say that the mood among the students has changed, lately, Miss Byrne?' he asked, picking up a spoon and scooping up a little of the cake.

'Well, as I mentioned, the volume of work appears to have gone up, and not just for NEWT students. I personally don't find that to be a bad thing. We are here to be educated, after all.'

'I am not talking about your educational workload, Miss Byrne,' Malfoy cut her off rudely. 'Would you say that there is any more rivalry among the students, either between the Houses, or even within?'

'There has always been a rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor... that is still apparent, even now.' Now Charis was really getting uneasy. What the hell was Malfoy after? And why could he not just ask a straight question?

Malfoy, too, seemed to be getting impatient as he reached forwards in his chair. 'Any new groups, Miss Byrne?'

Charis merely looked back at him innocently. Surely, he could not be referring to the DA, could he? 'I don't know what you mean, sir,' she lied. 'One of the Hufflepuffs tried to resurrect the Gobstones Society, but it appeared to fall flat after a few meetings...'

Lucius looked straight at Charis now, his cold eyes glinting like steel. Did the Mudblood really think he was daft? 'There are rumours about groups trying to undermine the Ministry throughout the country,' he started. 'This surely has not escaped the notice of any of the students, I'm sure. Especially certain students who have far too many column inches written about them in the Prophet on an almost daily basis.'

Charis raised her eyebrows. So, he was talking about Harry and the DA. And regardless of her own reasons for not joining them, she sure as Hades was not going to betray their secret to the slime ball sat in front of her.

'I can't think for one moment that any student would be involved in such political activities,' she answered politely. 'We're only children, after all, and Fudge is one of the most popular Ministers we've had.'

Thankfully, this answer seemed to satisfy Malfoy. 'Indeed he is, Miss Byrne, indeed he is,' he replied, leaning back in his chair once more.

When the plates suddenly vanished, signalling the end of dinner, Malfoy seemed in a distinct hurry to leave the Hall.

'Now, Miss Byrne, I would like you to show me around the castle,' he drawled as he stood.

'Yes, sir. What would you like to see first?' Charis asked, rising from her seat, too.

'You're a Ravenclaw, Miss Byrne. Surprise me.' Malfoy answered, flashing her one of his most pleasant smiles. And Charis smiled back, fighting the urge to vomit. Did he have to be so overly insincere?

'Well, I am guessing, as a Slytherin, you probably never went to Ravenclaw Tower,' she started. 'We have some lovely views of the grounds from up there. If you would like to follow me, Mr Malfoy?'

Lucius gave a mock bow. 'Indeed I would.' With any luck, the little gullible Mudblood would lead him straight to her partner in crime.

Once more, Charis was acutely aware of Snape watching as she led Malfoy out of the dining hall. And once more, Lucius nodded at his son and smirked indulgently at his lover on the way out.

'So, what NEWTs did you study, Mr Malfoy?' Charis asked as they climbed their way up the stairway that led to Ravenclaw Tower, desperate to make some small talk.

'I studied DADA, Charms and Transfiguration, Miss Byrne. And what are you studying?'

'I'm studying those, too. And also Arithmancy, Astronomy and Potions.'

'Arithmancy? Of course, a Muggle-born would want to prove herself capable, wouldn't she?'

Charis inclined her head, not rising to the bait. 'I would be lying if I said Arithmancy wasn't taxing, mentally. But the results are worth it, and it's a very unique subject.'

'And what use is it to study that particular subject, Miss Byrne, in terms of your future progression?' Lucius asked as they climbed yet higher.

'Well, I am in two minds of what direction I should go in, at the moment, if I'm honest, sir,' Charis admitted. 'Arithmancy could lead to some exciting roles in the Ministry, such as Unplottable Cartography. But then again, the use of Potions in magical medicine is also a worthy and exciting area.'

'Either way, you fancy a career in the Wizarding world?' Lucius wondered.

'Absolutely, sir.'

Lucius raised an eyebrow and sneered. 'Allow me to wish you the best of luck.' The Mudblood would need it. If she lived to graduate, that was.

As they arrived at the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, they notice another pupil outside. Charis grinned as she realised it was none other than her friend, Jack.

'Hello, Jack,' she greeted the boy, relieved not to be alone with Malfoy any longer. 'Mr Malfoy, may I introduce Jack, one of my House mates?'

Malfoy looked down his nose at the boy and nodded curtly. 'Mr ..?'

'Morrissey. Jack Morrissey,' the boy replied politely.

'Ah, yes. Mr Morrissey.' He couldn't believe his luck. The girl had really presented him her Bloodtraitor friend on a silver platter. Draco had made it quite clear that Jack's interest in magical lineage had been responsible for their potential discovery of his wife's family's indiscretion. And now, he had them both in his reach.

'I hear you have been working on theories of magical transference with Miss Byrne here,' Lucius started smoothly. 'And what do you make of the genetic theory of magic, Mr Morrissey?'

Jack was unsure what to say in response. Like Charis, he was taken unawares at such direct questioning and did not feel entirely comfortable discussing his work with a known supporter of You-Know-Who.

He was saved by the eagle knocker on the common room door that posed a conundrum to solve, and Malfoy sneered openly.

'This is how we gain entrance to our common room, Mr Malfoy,' Charis explained. 'I know other Houses' common rooms have passwords instead.' Then she turned to Jack. 'Do you want to do it, or shall I, Jack?'

Jack gestured to Charis to go ahead, and as she answered the riddle, the door swung open soundlessly.

'After you, Mr Malfoy,' she said courteously.

Lucius gracefully stepped inside, quickly taking in his surroundings. The Ravenclaw common room had tall, wide windows flanked by endless bookshelves. Blue velvet curtains hung from lush drapes. The room was light and airy and the complete opposite in many respects to the Slytherin dungeon lair.

Then he turned his attentions once more to Jack. 'Mr Morrissey, I believe you have not answered my question yet.'

'Er, genetic theory is the logical explanation for passing magic through families, sir,' Jack answered awkwardly.

Lucius flared his nostrils. 'Tell me, Mr Morrissey, don't you think that this explanation defies the fact that Muggle-borns exist in our society?'

Jack swallowed, casting a nervous glance at Charis. 'They... I mean, the gene for magic could well be recessive, sir, and therefore not show up for generations.'

'So what you are saying is, that Muggle-borns must have genetic material from wizards, otherwise they could not have magical abilities?'

The temperature in the Ravenclaw common room dropped several degrees at Malfoy's question, and Jack nodded, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

Lucius drew himself up to his full height. 'If I were you two, I would be very careful about pursuing your lines of enquiry in regards to this particular topic.' His voice was not much more than a whisper, and still, every word was crystal clear. 'Sticking your Ravenclaw beaks in to subjects that are best left undisturbed can only lead to serious trouble. Do you understand me?'

His flinty silver-grey eyes flicked from Jack to Charis, tapping the snake head on his walking stick with an impatient finger. He obviously expected an answer.

The two Ravenclaws glanced nervously at each other at first and then up to Malfoy.

'It's not our intention to cause trouble,' Jack answered quietly.

'Maybe not,' Lucius replied imperiously. 'But should you continue to endeavour down this particular path of investigation, you may find that your efforts are... cut short. I would advise you to cease all further activities. Failure to do so is likely to cause you great distress.'

His mouth curled into a smirk as he saw the pair of Ravenclaws pale with fear at the thinly-veiled threat he had issued them.

'Now, Miss Byrne, I have to speak to the Headmaster,' he drawled, turning to his escort. 'It has been a delight having dinner with you. I have no doubt I will see you at breakfast tomorrow.'

'Would you like me to escort you to the headmaster's office?' Charis asked quickly, desperately hoping Malfoy would turn down her offer.

'That won't be necessary, Miss Byrne. As you know, I was a student here myself.' He gave a little bow and a tight smile to Charis. 'Miss Byrne.'

He then turned to Jack, all traces of smile gone, and nodded curtly. 'Mr Morrissey.'

And with that, Lucius Malfoy left the Ravenclaws in the common room feeling shaken and confused, neither of them sure what to make of the blond wizard's words.