"Vagueness is a powerful tool, especially vagueness of motive." - Lucius Malfoy

"Well done Draco," said Professor Lockhart, as the first years rushed out of the lecture hall, chatting excitedly about their upcoming first battle, scheduled for Sunday. "As always, I suppose I should say."

"I don't know," said Draco. "Nobody is staying after class to ask any questions. We always pestered Professor Quirrell ... well, if he stayed conscious, anyway." The lecture hall had emptied with astonishing speed, just like most other classes. "Maybe we're too available," Draco said thoughtfully.

"Well, that's a tough standard. Most lecturers are lucky to get a single teacher's pet, usually more annoying than flattering." Lockhart shrugged, which sent his weird half-robe/half-cape rippling. "I doubt many teachers meet the 'does the class hang on my every word' standard. Certainly none of my teachers did. Perhaps this generation will be irretrievably spoiled by having had the most interesting lecturer in their first year, and all others will suffer in comparison. Ah well, at least we'll spare our students that fate, eh, Draco? In any case, what do you think about the upcoming battle? Who do you like?"

Draco barely paused. "Ginevra Weasley will destroy the other two armies."

"And what makes you think that?" The Professor had his wand out and was mass scourgifying the lecture hall, arranging it for the second year class. Lockhart usually just chatted with Draco between classes, whenever it was Draco's turn to lecture. "Did Mr. Potter tell you some insight, or Miss Granger?"

"Well, nothing specific, although I respect the judgment of my fellow Generals and she was declared the Most Dangerous Student. But they did that because of her personality. Have you ever met Fred and George Weasley, besides teaching them? Heard the rumours? Their little sister would have to be at least somewhat ruthless and tough as nails, to keep up with them. Even if they dote on her and protect her, she's probably suffered more from their pranks than anyone. And then she has other brothers. So there's that. But I'm not talking about her fighting spirit. I think her real advantage is that she's heard more stories and tactics over the last summer than the entire rest of the class combined. Miss Weasley has a massive head start. How many students in first year have a sibling in an army? Practically her entire family was in an army last year."

"Yes," said Professor Lockhart, "I suspect we'll have to adjust the army strength a bit early if that turns out to be the case. "But hopefully the others will rise to her challenge. Sometimes that's all that's necessary. I must admit that I myself was a lackluster student here at Hogwarts."

"Then, if I may ask," said Draco, seeing an opening, "how did you manage your current position?" Gilderoy Lockhart stopped cleaning and looked at Draco. The classroom was empty, the next lecture didn't start for twenty minutes.

"Well, I suppose it was Dumbledore's way of apologizing. No, not for anything I did as a student. Last spring he led - oh let's call it an assault - into my cousin's house while I was visiting to kidnap and capture me."

Draco's eyes widened. "That … doesn't sound like Dumbledore. If nothing else it lacks subtlety." Draco doubted Father would relish an all-out assault by Dumbledore, but he'd complained often enough about the convoluted plans he'd had to face. "Why would he do that?"

"Oh, he had this notion that I was Voldemort." Draco said nothing, a look of shock on his face. "Well, seeing as how I've left you speechless I could just tell you a great story about how I managed to fight off Dumbledore, Mad-Eye Moody and several others, but it would just be a lie. A lie I've been practicing, in case anyone asks, and it's a great story. But the fact of the matter is that I felt them coming, you don't live in a jungle for a few years without learning rather a lot of detection wards. I prepared a few surprises to slow them down. I had shields up and I unleashed a few non-standard hexes, not that they did much good, when Dumbledore came through the door like the sound of thunder and twice as furious. Well, I just threw down my wand. Dumbledore always scared me - as a child he was my Headmaster, too – and my pride has limits. I didn't stand a chance."

Lockhart just stated the last part as a matter of fact, all joviality from earlier gone. "So you surrendered and then?" asked Draco.

"Practically before my wand hit the ground Dumbledore started to apologize, but before he could get more than two words out I'd already been knocked out eight ways to Thursday by the rest of that lot. Classless barbarians. Still, when they revived me Dumbledore apologized. Said that it was a mistake, because of course Lord Voldemort would never surrender – I suppose he had the magic to back up his pride – and explained that since I'd … blossomed they'd just assumed I'd been possessed by Voldemort, or otherwise consorting with Dark Wizards and studying things that I shouldn't be."

"That doesn't seem reasonable," said Draco. "Just because you got powerful, they attack you?"

Professor Lockhart chuckled, "Well, when I say I was a lackluster student, I may have been sugarcoating it. I had … other interests … in my time here at Hogwarts. The fact that I made a name at all must have come as a surprise. If I'd done it here in London that would be one thing, but I'd spent practically a decade out of the country apprenticed to Geralt of Rivia in South America."

Draco coughed apologetically, "You know, to some people – not me! - that sounds like an admission you consorted with a Dark Wizard. Even I've heard of Geralt, and while he may be apolitical, his methods are ... well, not approved by most."

"Oh," said Lockhart, "he's not so bad. I mean, he really hates it when someone doesn't pay up if he thinks he's owed. In many ways Geralt is like, oh, Mad-Eye Moody. He's survived so much that he doesn't suffer fools lightly. And he lacks most social graces. All of them, practically. I think he only allowed me to hang around the first few years because he thought I'd die in an amusing fashion and give him a few extra seconds to survive. I almost did, a few times. No, he and Mad-Eye are both … dedicated bastards, perhaps – please don't tell the Headmistress I said that to a student, she'd think it improper – but if they're on your side you just let the eccentricities slide. No, Geralt isn't a Dark Wizard, just a highly effective one." Lockhart's eyes took on a faraway look, but then focused as a clump of students entered the room. "Anyway, I learned quite a lot from him, and Dumbledore offered me a position based on my new-found competence, and not being Voldemort. I wouldn't have taken the Defence job, but I don't think the curse will be on it anymore. Not after last year."

"Or with the current arrangement, I hope." Draco slid off the main lectern, where he'd been sitting listening, "And how did you swing the Head of House when you weren't even in Gryffindor? What was that an apology for?"

Professor Lockhart just laughed, flashing his perfect teeth. "Ah, I can't put anything by a Malfoy! I should have known you, of all people, would notice that. Well, let's just say that the Headmistress said my choice of mentors showed that I was too stupid to be clever, but just stupid enough to be brave." He touched the side of his nose. "Beyond that, I'm afraid I really can't say."

As the conspiracy filed out of the classroom Draco headed up the stairs, back towards the castle instead of down into Slytherin. He jogged up a few stairs and caught up to Neville then fell in step beside him.

"Hello," Draco said, "do you have a minute?"

"Sure, I was heading to the library. I've got to write up a full foot on mandrakes, but it's a walk. Where's Gregory?"

"This is private. I was just wondering ... how are your parents?"

Neville stopped, face suddenly red and contorted. Draco reflected that he'd never really seen Neville angry. He'd seen him excited, purposeful, attacking, but either with usually with a look of concentration or joy. Neville sputtered then said, "What's that supposed to mean?"

They kept walking. "You know, I must have imagined what it was like having a mother. And, now that I have one it's nothing like what I expected. It's ... hard. And not living up to my daydreams at all." Draco paused. "I was just wondering if it was just me, and you are the only other person who'd know."

Neville's face went from anger to contrition, and then slightly pale. "It's not just you. Gran's a bit scary, but around my parents I don't know how to act and they don't know what to do..." Draco found himself nodding, and the conversation lasted a long time. At the end Draco felt comforted in the knowledge that he wasn't alone, and he'd made another friend. Time well spent, for a number of reasons.

Draco spent his precious time as best he could.

Studying, researching and always, always, making friends and doing favors. Draco spent spare moments chatting, it hardly felt like work he enjoyed it so much, particularly with Professors Lockhart and Asimov. But he chatted with everybody. Draco encouraged a wary Ethan Jugson to ask Elsie Ambrose out. "She likes you, I know that she does. She's just too shy to do anything about it," he told Ethan over lunch and was pleased to hear they'd been holding hands later that week. It probably wouldn't last, things rarely did at that age, but who knew? Draco certainly didn't. Tracy Davis overheard him and approached Draco to ask for advice on dating Harry. Her plan to become a Darke Lady had apparently fallen off schedule and she had been looking for an angle. Draco did the best that he could, but he truthfully didn't even see Harry that often, he was usually awake and studying in the Library in the early morning hours when others were sleeping, and asleep by the time Potter returned. Still, he did his best, mainly because it amused him to think of Potter dating. And if Harry actually started it would distract him from ... whatever it was he spent his days doing.

He kept up with Vincent, who usually hung out with Neville. Vincent didn't seem as happy as Draco had hoped, but Harry said that people tended to have a set happiness point they reverted to. And if Vincent didn't seem ecstatic, he seemed to be less stressed than usual. Vincent actually sought out Draco from time to time, especially when Gregory had other things to do, like Quidditch practice. They both knew that Vincent feared Draco getting caught alone by a pack of Slytherins, but neither of them needed to say anything.

Draco approached Robert several more times, but had never spotted a good opportunity.

Draco couldn't offer Zacharias Smith any tutoring - that would be interfering in the first year armies - but made sure to point out to the shy first year that most older Slytherin would be more than willing to tutor him. Draco doubted he'd win a battle, but hopefully he could beat that Hufflepuff General. And Blaise refused to talk to him, although Draco did help some of Basilisk army with charms homework, particularly if it would be useful in battle.

Draco, Daphne and Gregory slowly felt out other Slytherins to try and judge who could learn the Patronus spell. Draco doubted they could, or should, keep this a secret much longer.

Draco looked forward to his first battle, when he could finally take some time to just relax. He knew he was overworked, as he sometimes fell asleep during his morning study sessions for quick naps. But, Draco reflected as he walked to class, he may lose to Potter and Hermione, but he would not lose due to lack of effort. He smiled at the thought.

After his next lecture, Draco said a quick "Be right back" to Professor Lockhart and rushed out of the offence lecture, beating several first years out the door. It was a risk, being out alone, he'd been involved in several fights so far - none nearly as damaging as his first day - but Draco felt desperate. He shouldn't have had that extra orange juice for breakfast, but he'd fallen asleep again and needed a pick-me-up and now it was a long way to the nearest restroom, since the Offence classroom was up here on such a high floor. Draco walked briskly (a jog was undignified), but had to stop to answer a question. Colin Creevey wanted to know what he should do in the first battle, so Draco walked with him for a minute, then begged off and cut back. On his way towards the stairs Draco spotted what looked to be a bathroom entrance he hadn't seen before, and made it back to class with plenty of time.

Only after he'd finished the second year defence class did he notice the restroom had disappeared just as mysteriously as it had appeared. Draco didn't have time to look, but he carefully noted the spot, right across from that tapestry of Trolls in tutus.

Draco sat at his desk and opened his diary. He quickly flipped through all the blank pages to the last page. His journal understood his meanings, Draco turned pages slowly to search, flipping to the last page brought up a single list. The list itself took many pages, pages which appeared when he flipped from the once-last page to the new-last page. But the journal understood.

He looked at the question he'd written, and his own answer. It had taken a while to boil his thoughts down to the essence, to just the notes he needed. He'd written it question and answer style, the journal hadn't been able to provide any answers, but had suggested clarifying questions.

Question - Is Harry Potter Going to be a Dark Wizard?

Answer - Unknown. He will clearly be powerful enough.

The real question: Will Harry Potter be a Dark Wizard who betrays/murders as Voldemort did to Father?

Answer - Still Investigating, although I believe this less likely.

What evidence can I gather, what experiment can I run to figure this out, without increasing my risk?

That part sat unanswered. The only solution Draco had thought of would be to learn Parseltongue, but that would take a long time and the only teacher he knew was Harry himself, which made it dubious. He could just confess his thoughts, leaving out the knowledge that he suspected a conversation with Voldemort. There was enough evidence Harry himself had provided that he could reveal some items without really implicating himself. Below that blank gap, at the bottom of the page, stood an index.

Further Notes / Miscellaneous Thoughts

Draco grabbed the page, thumb carefully placed over "Further Notes" and then flipped to the new last page. The first page was titled Evidence and Implications on Potter's Mental Link with Voldemort. Draco picked up his pen and started writing. He probably had twenty minutes before he'd leave the Library and go to breakfast, and he couldn't afford to waste time.

"Draco, my boy? A word?" Draco had finished putting stoppers in flasks and returning ingredients. He glanced at Gregory who went outside and leaned against the wall by the door ... Hufflepuff had potions next, Vincent would notice any strange groups of Slytherins lurking.

"Yes, Professor Slughorn?"

"Draco, I taught your Father. Good student, good lad. Taught your Mother, too."

Draco nodded pleasantly. It was much easier to do when you honestly had no idea where things were going.

"Well, I know your Father considered me … well, he didn't consider me much at all."

"He said you had your good days." Draco honestly had no idea what Father had ever said to Professor Slughorn, so he stuck with the truth.

"Yes, he would. I suppose. And now we are in the awkward spot here. I dare not get involved directly in your little problem."

"With respect, Professor, this isn't just me being on a first name basis with Madam Pomfrey." Draco never showed any signs of injury, but those who paid attention would see that he walked with care, and maybe his clothes look a bit too neat, as if they'd been fixed repeatedly during the day.

"No, no, no. I know. I wasn't trying to minimize this. We're at the crucial point. I can feel it. This is the year that makes or breaks us. Exciting, hmm? But, well, I'm not sure I can be useful. You-Know-Who's followers respected Severus. Even those who think he betrayed them. But I never joined. I never was a joiner, you know, preferred to keep the company of a more pleasant circle. But they don't respect that."

Draco nodded again. Professor Slughorn's ambition, if he had any, was opaque to Draco.

"Anyway. I'd be happy to help you directly, you know. But I suspect the appearance would outweigh any trivial thing I might do."

"I see you are probably right, Professor. I'd been meaning to ask anyway, but I've been busy..." Draco realized that Professor Slughorn was nodding politely and reaching down into his desk. Draco tensed up, a habit he needed to get rid of but automatic after the last month, and the Professor pulled back his hand holding not a wand but a clear, tear drop shaped vial, stoppered at the top. It looked like molten gold.

"Do you know what this is, Draco? Well, not surprising. This is Felix Felicis. Liquid Luck. If you were to gulp down the whole thing you'd have a perfect few hours, it's just a small dose. But a quick sip may get you out of a tight jam. Save you some personal suffering."

He held out the vial, and Draco saw one small gold drop try to leap out, only to hit the seal and fall back. He passed it over to Draco and watched it quickly disappear into the boy's robes.

"Thank you Professor," said Draco with sincerity, "I really appreciate this."

"Of course you do. You know I never really played the game at your father's level, never really cared to. But I do understand it, perfectly well. Actions, my boy, count more than words. I intend for our House to survive, but I'm not going to be able to sway them quickly enough. That falls to you. Use it well, Draco."

Draco thanked Professor Slughorn again and was almost out the door when the Professor added "Do say Hello to you charming Mother from me?"

"It's clear, I think," Gregory said as Draco strolled through the door. Only a few Hufflepuffs were visible, heading towards the class. "Well?"

"We actually have an ally with him. Who would have thought?" Draco flashed the vial so that Gregory could see it. Gregory's eye's widened.

"Then why do you look so disturbed?"

"Slughorn may be wishy-washy but he's still the head of House Slytherin and 'A good move has multiple purposes.'" Draco suppressed a small shudder. "I'll tell you later, in private."