Striking a Bargain

Marcus Adriano De'Regaelio Broil, First son of Antoine De'Regaelio and Hestia Broil, heir to the horrendously large estate of the De'Regaelio clan and possibly the second most powerful boy in Hogwarts, strode into Professor Dumbledore's office with the air of someone who would very soon own the place. Seating himself at a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk he shouted for the Headmaster, still managing to sound like a jaded sophisticate as he did so.

"Hoy, Dumbledore! Visitor!"

The Headmaster entered his office from some back room, and looked amusedly at the boy, who was now currently lounging in front of his desk and happily helping himself to an apple that had appeared out of his voluminous robes.

"Well, well. I was wondering when you'd be coming to visiting me, Marcus," he said softly, looking the boy over with calm, regal eyes.

"That's Marcus Adriano De'Regaelio Broil, headmaster. Though I'll settle for Marcus Adriano or Marcus De'Regaelio from yourself," the boy replied snidely, biting into his apple with a sharp crack.

Marcus polished off his apple and, with a flick of his wand, casually transfigured it into a length of string. As that disappeared back into his pockets, Marcus leaned forward, a shark-like grin appearing on his face.

"As it happens, I'm not just here to correct you on nomenclature, Professor, shocking as that is. You've owed the De'Regaelio's a favour since the time of my grandfather, José Fernando De'Regaelio, and I'm calling it in right now."

Dumbledore raise a single bushy eyebrow, giving nothing away as to his current feelings or thoughts, and he let out a small sigh as he leaned back in his chair.

"Indeed?"

"Yes, in-bloody-deed, Dumbledore. You struck a bargain with my grandfather, and by the traditions of the De'Regaelios, I claim the right to call in the favour you owed him."

Dumbledore seated himself opposite the cocky young man. Marcus was coming towards the end of his fourth year, and already he had developed the razor-sharp wits and shark-like assurance that all his father's family possessed.

"Very well. What do you want?"

"You're considering who to give the role of Head Boy to next year."

"That is correct."

"I know. After careful consideration, I'm positive you're going to give it to Draco Malfoy. Or Ron Weasley, but it might be more plausible for bleached-blonde lover boy to get it, if you know what I mean."

Marcus growled inwardly at Dumbledore's lack of reaction. When he'd been faced with the prospect of matching wits with the headmaster, he hadn't thought that it would be so frustrating. The man's face seemed virtually stone-clad, and a big part of the game as Marcus played it was reactions. If you knew how a person reacted, you knew how they thought, and then you could play them like a Spanish guitar.

"And why, I wonder, does a fourth-year Ravenclaw student have any preference for these two particular students?"

Marcus smiled. "It's quite simple. Malfoy and Weasley have been involved with each other since the beginning of this year. School being what it is, of course, the opportunities for...carnal enjoyment, to put it politely, are brief. Especially when Parkinson and Longbottom are hogging the greenhouse and Harry and Luna are treating the astronomy tower as their private love nest."

It had not taken Dumbledore long to figure out Marcus's game plan, and his last speech had confirmed it. Marcus was attempting to throw him titbits of information, calling in the favour he owed to the Broils whilst trying to set him for another favour.

"A very trying situation, I am sure. But the private lives of my students are of no import to me, Marcus."

Again Marcus growled inwardly. His father would not be pleased if he threw away the favour Dumbledore owed, and all his bait had failed to hook he headmaster.

"Let me put it this way, Albus. If you don't comply, I will tell my father, and he will personally ensure that you never work again. Anywhere. The Minister of Magic for almost every country in the world owes the De'Regaelio's a favour. Including Fudge."

Dumbledore looked at Marcus, and Marcus's inner thoughts knew that the game was almost won.

"Come on, Dumbledore! Did you really think a duffer like Fudge could get into power without our help? You really are dense sometimes," and Marcus smiled then, leaning back in his seat, pleased with himself.

Dumbledore nodded. If what Marcus said was true, and Dumbledore knew the De'Regaelios well enough to realise that it almost certainly was, then it would not be wise to anger them. Besides, Malfoy was certainly a reasonable candidate

"Very well. My favour is repaid, Marcus, and Malfoy or Mr. Weasley will become head boy."

Marcus nodded, and got up to leave. It seemed Dumbledore had weathered all his feints and traps, and that the game was effectively his. However, Marcus still had an ace to play, and this was a trump card.

"By the way, headmaster..."

"Hmm?"

"Ginny Weasley bears the Dark Mark. She's been serving the enemy since the start of the year, and has been involved with Crabbe and Goyle since then. I've been watching her."

Dumbledore inhaled sharply. He'd suspected a traitor for nearly a year now, but Ginny? This pulled the rug out from under his feet and no mistake.

"That information is of great value to me, Mister Broil. The knowledge of a traitor is something that is always useful."

"I know. I guess you'll just have to owe me, won't you?"

Marcus grinned, and left the office. Dumbledore waited until he knew Marcus had gone, and then groaned and buried his head in his hands