Turning the Corner

CHAPTER SEVEN

Spying on the Slytherins

Terry muttered something about the common room, but I went into the Great Hall, although it was rather early for lunch. Some second-year boys were playing gobstones in the near corner, and a group of sixth-year girls were chattering at the far end. I spotted Padma sitting alone in the middle of the Gryffindor table, and I moved instinctively towards her before I realised that it was actually Parvati. However, she made room for me on the bench, as if glad of any company.

"By yourself, Parvati? What happened to Lavender Brown?"

"She's off somewhere with Seamus. As you said, I'm by myself."

"And without any silver lining in the great black cloud."

"I suppose Padma told you all about it. I'm actually better today than I was yesterday. Disappointed, but it's more that I want time to think it over than that I'm seriously broken-hearted. Only I'm not thinking very clearly by myself. Perhaps I should ask Professor Trelawney to read my cards."

Well, Padma has exaggerated before, I mused. "Will the cards help?"

"They usually do. If you knew Professor Trelawney you'd see that she's really gifted."

"But does knowing the future let you change it?"

"No, so the crystal only helps when the news is good. But tarot isn't only about the certain future. It's about advice and wisdom, and what traps to avoid, and what opportunities to notice. You should have taken Divination, it gives the most amazing sense of control over the future."

Privately I thought that Divination would be likely to remind me of my own helplessness in the face of inexorable destiny. What I said was, "But you don't need the cards. You're already dealing with your problem wisely."

"Am I?"

"Well, you're thinking quietly about what to do next. I can't think of anything wiser than that."

"That only shows that you're no wiser than I am. My 'quiet thinking' is telling me that I don't have a date for the Yule Ball. That's the one part of the situation that seems unfair. It isn't directly related to my mistake. If anyone - I mean, anyone else - had asked me to the ball three days ago, I'd have said no. But nobody has asked me. So even if I hadn't made that mistake - even if I'd been willing to say yes - I still wouldn't have a date for the ball. That problem won't go away just because I try to think about it differently."

"It might," I said suddenly.

She stared at me questioningly.

"I only mean, I know for a fact that lots of boys are still looking for dance partners. And if you 'think about it differently' - that is, cheerfully - then you're more likely to be asked."

"Are you sure there are still boys available?"

"Positive. Although some of them are worrying that all the girls are taken."

She did smile then. I was about to warn her that she ought not accept an invitation from Zabini, but we had break off the conversation when a hoard of other students came stampeding in to lunch.

Terry glanced at the Slytherin table during dessert. "Malfoy's angry," he told me. "With Zabini. I distinctly heard him say the word 'cheat'."

I was alerted. "Can you hear what else they're saying?"

"Nah, too much chatter. Wait - that part was easy enough to lip-read. Malfoy said, 'We'll talk afterwards. People will hear us down here.' Does that mean they're up to no good?"

I strained my ears. "... Back to the common room?" I heard Goyle asking Malfoy.

"Keep your voice down, Goyle," Malfoy hissed, none so quietly himself. "Of course not, it'll be full of girls down there. We'll go ..." But I didn't hear where.

"Michael! Wake up!" It was Terry. "Their tricks aren't our business. Whatever apple-cart they're upsetting, that doesn't mean we can spy on them."

"No ... no, I suppose not."

But on the way out of the hall, Crabbe stopped me with the words: "You're done for, Corner."

"What?"

"Your girlfriend was weepy all through dinner last night. We're onto her case. We have plans for her that will make you both very, very sorry."

A pause. Crabbe leered at me, so I said hastily, "Yes, I heard. I won't forget. Padma and I are going to be very, very sorry. I heard all right."

Malfoy was beckoning impatiently, so Crabbe did not pursue the dialogue. I wondered what his "plans" were. He probably only meant that the Slytherins considered Padma easy game as the next Zabini victim - but what if it were something more serious? When a person of Crabbe's size threatens a woman's safety, every man has a moral duty to learn more.

"I've changed my mind," I told Terry. "I think I need to snoop."

Terry wouldn't have a bar of it, and I didn't blame him, but I trailed the five Slytherins up the stairs, hoping they wouldn't notice me as they turned the corners. Fortunately, Malfoy led them into an empty classroom half way along the first corridor.

"Close the door, Nott, and put a Silencing charm on this room. This is private business."

I waited until Nott had finished the Silencing charm before I waved my wand at the door and muttered, "Finite incantatem!" Then I sat down cross-legged in front of the door, keeping my ears as close as I dared. Malfoy spoke, not troubling to lower his voice now that he believed the room to be soundproofed.

"You've been cheating, Zabini."

"Cheating? I have not!"

A silence.

"Your spell's a good one," Zabini insisted. "The stones only change colour if I touch the girl before she replies. And they don't work on boys - I tested it out on Nott, just to make sure. I can't cheat on this bet, Malfoy. You worked it out really well."

"You're cheating with the spirit of it, even if you're not breaking any actual rules," said Malfoy coldly. "You've been inviting girls in third year."

"Oh," said Nott naïvely, "was that against the rules?"

"Nott, Zabini, use your common sense," said Malfoy wearily. "You ask a third-year girl to the ball, and what's she going to say? Of course she'll accept you. If she doesn't, she can't go at all. The average third-year would accept a date with the Giant Squid rather than miss out on the Yule Ball. You're just not proving anything, Zabini, when you invite the younger girls."

"Well, if that's what you meant, why didn't you say so at first?" demanded Zabini angrily.

"Because I thought you were slightly more intelligent than Goyle and wouldn't need to be told. But no matter. This bet is a binding magical contract. Since you haven't broken any formal rules, I can't disqualify you for the cheating that's happened so far. But no more. Do you understand? Hand me the bucket, Nott."

I heard the stones rattle as the bucket presumably changed hands. "Where did you find that spell, Malfoy?" asked Nott.

"It's been in my family for years," said Malfoy. "You can use it to charm any kind of object. My grandfather used it on perfume bottles. An uncle used it on ladies' underwear ... no, Goyle, I am not making this up. I'm explaining that the spell is flexible. I spent all Thursday evening writing a version that would work for invitations to a ball, and all of this morning working out the line that would exclude the third-years. Anyway, quiet now, while I say the spell."

Malfoy muttered quite a lot of Latin. I recognised something about "three" and "year" and "discounted". "That should fix it," he said finally. "By the way, those stones are awfully shiny, Zabini. What have you done to them?"

"A useful little bottle I picked up in Knockturn Alley," Zabini admitted. "Silencing Varnish. When people touch a varnished object - the way we've all touched these - they're hexed. They can't speak about anything to do with the object, except to other people who have also touched it."

"But that's cheating again!" exclaimed Malfoy. "Once you touch a girl with the stone, she won't be able to tell anyone that you invited her to the ball."

"She can probably still mention that she has a date, but she won't be able to say with whom, or that she suspects me of changing my mind, or that she's heard I'm now going with someone else."

"What, you've found a way to stop girls gossiping?" Nott was impressed.

"Silencing Varnish is an old invention. It only lasts a couple of weeks, but that's all we need, and it does the job well."

"I do not like that," Malfoy interrupted. "It means the girls can only discuss your tricks with other girls whom you've already asked. They won't be able to warn off any future invitees, or complain to their boyfriends, or otherwise damage your reputation in the school community. There won't be any sticky situations to talk your way out of, because every girl you approach will be naïve to your tricks. That's another piece of cheating, Zabini! You've made it too easy for yourself."

"Come off it, Malfoy, the bet wasn't about how well I could worm my way out of trouble," replied Zabini. "It was about how many girls would fall for my good looks and charm. And six - no, five - already have."

"Well, I'm not reading the stones today," said Malfoy virtuously. "I'll read out the names on Christmas night."

"Was it five or six?" asked Crabbe. "Can't you count?"

"It was six, but Padma Patil didn't seem too sure. The stone only turned the palest shade of green, with dazzling gold letters. So I'm going to ask her again, and see if I can make her a little more grateful that I asked. The stone will work on the same girl twice, won't it?"

Apparently it would, but I lost concentration at this point. What on earth was Padma playing at? And with Zabini! She was no fool; presumably she had worked out that Zabini's invitation had not been a serious one; and presumably she had given him a frivolous answer. That would explain why the stone had not changed colour properly - the spell probably worked by turning the charmed objects into a kind of litmus paper for human emotions.

But how could Padma be so stupid as to tangle with Zabini? She knew he was untrustworthy. Why hadn't she confronted him directly, or come to me to ask for help, or warned her friends of his games? How did Padma help anyone by pretending to play along with the Slytherins?

When I tuned in again, Malfoy was taking charge.

"Let's make a couple of other things clear. You had twenty stones, and there are twenty girls in fourth year. So it's obvious who your main targets should be. And if you really can't stomach inviting hags like Granger, there's nothing wrong with asking an older girl. However, since you've wasted some of your stones on inviting children, I'm entitled to place a few new restrictions."

There was an unfriendly pause before Malfoy continued.

"First, yes, you do try Padma Patil again, and you'll get a nice deep colour this time, otherwise I'll count it as a black stone. Second, you don't ask Bulstrode. She's not a woman. Asking her is like asking a second-year. Third, you leave Pansy alone. She's going with me, and you're not interfering."

"Or Flavia?" asked Nott eagerly. "Can you leave her out of the bet too?"

"No," said Malfoy coldly. "Flavia is fair game, like the rest."

Zabini did not seem to resent these new restrictions. "Fair enough. Padma Patil again. Not Bulstrode. Not Pansy. But any of the other eighteen fourth-years. And any of the older girls, including the foreign visitors."

"Correct. And any white stones I find in the bucket on Christmas night, I can use to turn the whole deal against you," Malfoy reminded him.

"Agreed. But I'm not stupid. There won't be any white stones by Christmas night."

"Place your hand over the stones and bind yourself to the new agreement."

"But you've already said the spell!"

"I want a double bind. Because you've cheated, so I need double assurance."

Only at this point did Zabini begin to sound bored as he intoned: "I, Blaise Pascal Zabini, bind myself to thee, Draco Lucius Narcissus Malfoy, in the matter of our pact over the stones in this bucket."

As Malfoy muttered a "finite incantatem" at the door, I rose to my feet, and I had the presence of mind to move to the middle of the corridor before the door sprang open.

"Corner! What are you doing here?" asked Goyle.

"Came to look for a book that I'd left here, but the door was locked," I said. "Were you lot really in that classroom? You were being very quiet in there."