Apology For the Devil

Chapter Three--Welcome To Slytherin

"Eagles may soar, but weasels aren't sucked into jet engines."

[Attributed to both Jason Hutchison and John Benfield]

"Cunning is the art of concealing our own defects, and discovering the weaknesses of others."

[William Hazlitt]

###

Following dinner, the first-years were led down into the dungeons to the common room. The prefects stopped them at an empty stretch of wall, and one of them gave the password, 'Icarus.' A door appeared, and the band of students entered. The door swung shut behind them with a dull thud.

Lucius was greeted by a hexagonal room decorated in various shades of green. A large, round table with eleven chairs stood in the centre of the room. Six smaller tables sat in the corners of the room, one facing each of the six walls and each surrounded by six chairs. The tables sported deep forest-green tablecloths with silver fringes, and the chairs were upholstered in velvet of a similar colour, their cherry-wood legs accenting the colour nicely. The cherry-panelled walls were covered with tapestries and portraits of people whom Lucius assumed were famous former Slytherins. A shag carpet blanketed the floor like grass. Torches in silver holders completed the décor.

There were three large fireplaces situated around the common room; directly across from the entrance was a stone-framed fireplace; it was the largest one of three in the room. Snakes had been carved into the limestone, and emerald-like gems made up their eyes. In front of the large fireplace was a long, low couch, covered in a bright but tasteful green satin. Smaller fireplaces and similar couches adorned the walls on either side of the door they had come in, three in all. Over the main fireplace at the opposite end of the room hung a banner, proclaiming in green letters that shimmered with internal silver light: Welcome, Lucius, to the House of Slytherin. At first, he was taken aback at being singled out. He shortly realized that every other first-year saw his or her name where Lucius saw his.

Of the three walls without fireplaces, one held the door back to the rest of the school. The others, Lucius would learn, held the doorways to the dormitories, girls on the left of the main fireplace, boys on the right.

As Lucius stood admiring his surroundings, he became aware that all of the returning students had left the common room for bed; all save for the boy who had led them to the common room. He motioned for the first-years to seat themselves at the centre table.

It was the first time that Lucius had been able to look at the Slytherins from his year all at once. He'd spoken with a few of them, the ones sitting nearest him at dinner. And, of course, Goyle was forever at his heel. Lucius eased himself into a chair; Goyle took the one to his right. The first years looked eagerly up at the prefect, who began to speak.

'Welcome to the High Table of Slytherin. This table is generally reserved for the seventh-years, so don't get too comfortable,' he smirked.

Having made the disclaimer, he sat down, taking the chair with its back to the largest fireplace. The flames silhouetted his figure, and he looked more menacing than before.

'You are all here because you want to be the best. You may be smart, you may be courageous, and you may be a loyal, hardworking child.' He sneered at the last. 'But above all, you want to excel, to gain prestige, and to win. That's why we are here.'

'Before I let you go off to bed--yes, I'll show you your dorms--I have a few things that you need to know. Listen carefully or not, but you may be sorry if you don't.'

Lucius was tempted to let his mind wander; there was so much to take in, and he doubted that he would learn anything his father hadn't already told him. But he listened; not because he'd been told to, but out of sheer curiosity.

'Each of you is being assigned an older Sponsor. He, or she, will answer any specific questions you have. Slytherin takes care of its own. Too many others refuse to help us, so we help ourselves. Your Sponsor will contact you sometime tomorrow.

'Secondly, you need to know how our house organizes itself. Each grade level has a table assigned to them. Don't try sitting at anyone else's without an invitation; people get testy around presumptuous first-years. Your table is over there.' Heads turned in the direction he pointed, to the table directly to the left of the entrance door. It had on it a lighter coloured cloth than the rest. Lucius wasn't sure whether the colour was to remind them of their place literally or figuratively.

'Likewise,' the prefect continued, 'don't go poking about in another year's dormitory.

'When it comes to rules, most are meant to be broken. But there are some that must be kept sacrosanct for the benefit of everyone, and to avoid total anarchy. These include personal privacy, as well as common sense. You'll figure them out as you go, or you can ask your Sponsor.

'If you decide to break any of the school rules,' he smirked slightly, 'which most of you will by the end of the year, if not the end of the week, you need to remember only this: Don't Get Caught.'

A few kids laughed at that, including Lucius, but were quickly silenced by a glare.

'I'm being serious. The house cup goes to the house with the most points at the end of each year. It has been ours for five of the last seven years, and we intend to win it again. Do not lose points. You will regret it. Take a detention instead if you can. Slytherin must come before all else.'

All else except Malfoy, Lucius thought silently to himself. Family comes first.

'This is a proud house, and a strong one. We are disdained by the other houses, and even some teachers for what they call a lack of fair play.' He gave a short laugh. 'But we know what we do, we accept the consequences for our actions, and we win. Above all else, we win. We have to try harder than anyone else to do well because of these prejudices. But if anyone can do that, Slytherins can. Welcome, new Slytherins. I am sure you will be an asset to our house. Let me show you to your dorms.'

##

Five minutes later, after passing the girls off to a female prefect, the older boy returned to lead the first-year boys to their dormitory. They followed him through the door to the right of the main fireplace, and entered a short hallway that led to yet another hexagonal room, this one - obviously - smaller than the common room. All six walls contained doors. The prefect motioned to the first door on their left, but made no move to open it.

Instead, Cassidy did with a brazen shove, and they all stepped inside to their new accommodations. When Lucius turned around, their guide was gone.

Their dormitory was also hexagonal, and the continuing theme gave Lucius the unpleasant sensation of living in a beehive. He quickly claimed the bed on the wall opposite the door. Naturally, Goyle took the bed to the right of his. Lucius idly wondered what he'd done to deserve the honour guard. The bed to Lucius' left was soon Cassidy's. The bed to the immediate right of the door was claimed by Brice Carden, a light-haired boy with a plain face. Lucius knew from the name that Carden was a pureblood, and thought they might have met at a Christmas party. The fifth bed was occupied by a quiet-looking fellow with glasses and shaggy brown hair. He wore a knowing sneer that made him look most unpleasant.

The dormitory was decorated in the same fashion as the common room. The four-poster beds that sat against the five walls had canopies that looked as if they'd been made from spun silver. A coiled serpent pattern made up the rug in the centre of the room, which lay atop the polished wooden floors. Torches hung on either side of each bed.

The five boys changed into their nightclothes without a word. Exhausted, they fell into bed and slept immediately.

###

When Lucius opened his eyes the next morning, he panicked. All he could see was the silver hanging, which was perched above him like a lethifold about to strike. He turned his head though, and when he realised where he was he could breathe again. The last night's introductions came flooding back to him.

The other boys were still sleeping. Trying not to disturb them, he quickly got dressed, tucking his protective charm underneath his shirt. Checking his image in a mirror, he remembered his parents' other gifts. Quietly, he found them in his trunk. Though he wanted to hang the foggy glass plate immediately, to remind him of how close his parents were as well as to impress the other boys with his wealth, he thought it might wake the others if he did so. He certainly didn't want four sleep-deprived roommates angry with him on the second day of school. He contented himself with looking at the Hide-Away.

Its surface was covered with the tiny buttons, and Lucius realized upon closer inspection that each one had a different symbol on it. Letters, numbers, shapes, animals... It was an ideal way to remember which button led to which compartment, barring the fact that there were three hundred symbols to sort through.

With a slight smile, Lucius began to look for the button that he knew must be there. Upon finding it, he tapped the image of the snake with his wand. The button depressed, becoming part of the box's exterior, and it opened. Inside was a small piece of parchment, which Lucius removed and read.

Lucius:

If my assumption is correct, this will be the first compartment you have opened. I write this note the day before your departure; there are things to tell you, that you may not have understood before your arrival at Hogwarts. A part of me wants to allow you to discover them for yourself, but I refuse to let any child of mine walk unarmed into 'the serpent's lair.' The first piece of advice I give to you is to find protection, allies. To be alone in Slytherin is to be prey. Don't be. The second is to know that Maribel O'Conner, the Arithmancy instructor is a friend of the family, and has been since I knew her at Hogwarts. If you cannot find aid elsewhere, she will help you. Lastly, I expect you to study hard and to excel. No one need know of your preparation. See to it that you are at the top of your year. I wish you a good first year, Lucius. Call us when you need.

Abraxas Malfoy

Lucius carefully returned the note to its box, and tapped the button again to close it.

He looked at the sleeping gorilla-like form in the bed adjacent to his. Get protection, he repeated to himself. Check.

##

In time, the other four woke up, and left the common room to go down to breakfast. They were about to open the door on their left, which presumably led to another dormitory, but Brice stopped them and motioned to the one that led to the common room. Whoever came up with this architecture should be shot, Lucius thought grumpily.

They left the common room, and were presented with a long stretch of stone hallway, and no clue as to which direction they should take. As they were discussing, a pair of seventh years exited and began walking down the hallway to the left.

Lucius looked at his compatriots. 'Follow?' he asked simply. He received four nods.

They found the Great Hall, moved to the Slytherin table, and congregated at the table's end. Lucius was slightly grateful they'd collectively chosen to separate themselves from the noisy Slytherin crowd.

Midway through breakfast, the schedules were passed out. A tall, broad shouldered girl came to them and casually slapped down the pile of schedules in front of them.

'I don't know your names,' she said frankly, 'so you'll just have to find your own in the pile.'

Lucius' schedule was on the top of the pile, and required very little searching.
Cassidy, on the other hand, went through the pile three times before finding his stuck beneath Val Ballinger's. His face was red when he handed them back to the girl who'd placed them there.

'Having your particular schedule isn't terribly important your first year,' she said kindly. She motioned to the other boys, 'All of your classes this year will be with these guys. Come your third year, you really do need your own, because you start taking electives.'

She grinned at them again, and meandered away.

Lucius glanced at his schedule. He had Defence Against the Dark Arts first thing, followed by Potions. After lunch, he had Herbology.

He felt a gentle tap on his left shoulder. He turned around and saw a short, burly, dark-haired boy with fair skin and brown eyes. The left side of his mouth was raised into an appraising smile.

'Lucius?' he asked, though they both knew perfectly well that he knew the answer.

'Yes?' Lucius responded coolly, giving what he thought might be an appraising look in return.

'I'm Lance Poole, your assigned Sponsor.' His tone was casual. Were Lucius more adept at reading others' tones, he might have picked up on Lance's carefully worded introduction and highly guarded attitude. As it was, he didn't realize, and the other's casual tone of voice instantly relaxed him.

'You are?' he replied eagerly. 'How nice to meet you. Are you--' but Lance cut him off.

'I'd like to speak with you properly...' he looked around. 'Somewhere other than here. I'll meet you in the common room at lunch. Can you find your way?'

'Yes, but--'

'Good. I'll see you then.'

Lance walked away. Lucius sighed. That hadn't gone at all as he had intended.

Noting that the other boys were nearly done with breakfast, he hurriedly finished his own, grabbed a few rolls for lunch--since it appeared he wouldn't get any otherwise--and hoisted his bag. So began his first day.

##

His first class, Defence, was taught by Professor Smythe. Despite the fact that she'd been a Hufflepuff, Lucius found her a decent professor. She gave a quick introduction of who she was and what the class was about, but they were soon underway learning the material--the actual material, not the unifying theory that would be the underpinning for the so on and so forth.

Lucius was glad of that--he hated theory. He'd always hated theory, even when he was working with his father. It seemed so irrelevant--if you can do the spell, or work with the plant, or make the potion, what was the point of understanding why it worked?

Smythe's approach was much more up Lucius' alley. By the time he left class he was in a surprisingly good mood.

##

Contrary to what he'd told Lance earlier that morning, Lucius had no idea how to get back to the common room. He knew it was down in the dungeons, so he took a stairway down whenever it presented itself, but beyond that he trusted to luck.

A few minutes later, he conceded that luck was getting him nowhere.

As he passed a statue of Odo the Oblivious for what must have been the twelfth time, a hand grabbed his arm and spun him around. Lucius' hand was on his wand, and he had half pulled it out before realizing who it was. Lance.

'You're late,' the Sponsor said shortly, and led Lucius around the corner. There, miraculously, was the suit of armour that stood next to the common room entrance. Lucius was miffed--he'd been so close. Lance gave the password, and they entered.

The room was empty except for a small group of fourth-years who were talking over a game of exploding snap. Lucius moved toward the table he'd been shown the night before, his class table, but Lance shook his head.

'Not here. Follow.' With that curt direction, he made for the dormitories. Lucius followed.

They went into the small hexagonal antechamber, but they didn't go into Lucius' dorm. Instead, they walked through another doorway that led to a second hexagonal antechamber, almost identical to the one they'd just left. Only the three walls furthest from the entrance had doors. Lucius definitely felt like he was in a beehive, or at the very least, a labyrinth of sorts. He followed Lance through the centre door, and into a room that looked much the same as Lucius' dormitory, only larger. A darker shade of green covered the beds, and it appeared that each student had his own desk. He realized that it must be a seventh-year dormitory, as he'd heard somewhere that one was only accorded ones own desk when one was about to graduate.

Lucius remained silent as Lance motioned him to sit on one of the beds. 'Consider yourself invited into my dormitory this once,' he said, 'but don't think this means you can come and go as you please.' Lance leaned back, reclining on the bed.

'I know,' replied Lucius in what might have been called a surly tone.

'Good,' said Lance, appearing not to have heard the edge in Lucius' voice. 'How were your first classes?'

'Fine,' Lucius said guardedly. Contrary to his initial vision of a Sponsor, Lance was not someone in whom he wanted to confide.

Lance wasn't deterred by his tone, and continued with his speech.

'Between last night and this morning, I wouldn't be surprised if you've gone into an overload. You've had a lot to process. Slytherin is...different from the other houses. You grow up faster.

'I'm here to help you adjust. That doesn't mean I'm going to baby you, because that won't help you at all.' He looked levelly at Lucius. 'You don't have to trust me, because trust is a precious commodity. But I can help you. You're eleven. I'm seventeen. I've had a world more experience than you have. Will you accept my help?'

Lance's tone infuriated Lucius. It wasn't asking him if he'd accept aid, it was assuming he would, and going through the formality. The burning desire to do the unexpected seized him. He was overwhelmed, but surely so was everyone else. Well, he amended, probably not Goyle. Goyle was too thick to be overwhelmed. You must be untouchable. His father's voice played in Lucius' head. Never display weakness, never appear uncomfortable or out of place. Even if you are dying inside, you will hide it.

'Thank you,' Lucius began cordially, after a slight pause. He made polite but removed eye-contact. 'I'm doing just fine, though. I'll be sure to let you know if I have any need of you.' He stood up.

Lance paused before speaking, an expression of mixed disbelief and frustration flickering briefly over his face, before being replaced by a knowing smile and a challenging gaze.

'That's splendid,' Lance said in a carefully measured tone. 'I'm glad to hear you're getting on so well. Just remember that I'm here for you, should you ever need me.'

The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. Lance showed Lucius to the door. Lucius reached for his schedule to figure out where it was he was supposed to be going, but before his hand could draw it out, Lance spoke again.

'Would you like me to walk you to Herbology, or can you find it yourself?'

##

Even on the first day, Lucius knew that he would have no patience for Herbology. First off, the professor was Professor Yarrow, the deputy head who had welcomed them all. Lucius found he had to ball his hand into a fist to distract himself from the inanities that came every time she opened her mouth.

She spent the first period introducing the subject as one that required strong memorization skills, attention to detail, and a willingness to try hard if the plant proved difficult to manage. 'Even experts can't handle plants correctly all the time,' she said jestingly to put the first-year Slytherins and Ravenclaws at ease. It bored Lucius. Even more boring was when she announced that the first three weeks would be going over techniques, the next three would be spent on theory, and that it could very well be Halloween before they even touched anything growing in the greenhouses.

Because it was a double lesson, she finished her lecture with plenty of time to spare, and began introducing the technique of clipping plant stems to get samples. Technique, Lucius snorted. He could tell you the technique without practice: take a knife and cut. Naturally, he ignored what Yarrow was saying and instead thought about how he had handled his conversation with Lance. Lucius thought it had gone decently; though he wasn't sure to what extent he might have alienated the older boy. He realized that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have an older student looking after him. But the bridge was burned, and there was nothing he could do about it now.

Professor Yarrow handed out watercress stems; similarly shaped, non-reactive, non-toxic stems that they could work with. He also heard her mention that the next few classes would be spent on getting samples from roots, flowers, bulbs...Lucius' fingernails dug painfully into his palm. He had a feeling that would be happening a lot in Herbology.