173: Chapter 173 Internal Provocation

"Half-bloods should sit on the side; don't block the fire for the pure-bloods."

As these words drifted from the fireplace area of the Common Room, Draco was about to set his Potion bottle back on the table. His arm was still in a sling, and the impatience on his face immediately outweighed the pain.

"Who said that?"

Flint was sitting on the long sofa with his feet propped up on the low table, surrounded by a few upperclassmen. He didn't stand up, just tapped the tabletop with his cup. "Malfoy, are you going to police everyone's conversations now?"

The second-year half-blood student who had been pushed aside kept his head down. His schoolbag strap was being stepped on; he looked angry but dared not lash out. A few lowerclassmen stood at the entrance, afraid to walk in. Pansy was sitting on the girls' side, her quill suspended in mid-air.

Draco took a step forward.

Allen spoke up from behind him, "Sit down."

Draco turned his head. "You heard that."

"I heard it," Allen said, placing his book on the table. "So you sit down."

Flint sneered. "Potter, are you going to stand up for a half-blood? How interesting, a side-branch Potter preaching fairness in Slytherin."

The Common Room went quiet very quickly. The light from the Black Lake shimmered on the ceiling, and the fire in the fireplace wasn't bright enough, leaving several faces hidden in the shadows, waiting to see the show.

Zabini put down his candy box without opening it.

Nott lowered his head to flip through his notebook, his pen tip already resting next to a date.

Draco gritted his teeth and sat down. "You'd better give me a reason."

Allen didn't look at Flint. He gestured toward the second-year student whose bag strap was being stepped on. "Take it away."

The second-year student was stunned and bent down to pull his bag back. The upperclassman stepping on the strap applied a bit of pressure and didn't let go.

Allen turned to Nott. "Name."

Nott reported quickly, "Ackerley, fourth year. Missed two essays in Transfiguration Class last month, average grade in Potion Class is below average, father owns a Potion shop in Knockturn Alley."

Ackerley's face changed immediately. "You checked up on me?"

Nott's pen tip paused. "Are you hard to check up on?"

Zabini followed up, "The Potion shop in Knockturn Alley survives on half-blood customers. You're cursing half-bloods in the Common Room; remember to have your father clear his books when you get home."

A few lowerclassmen nearby couldn't help but let out short bursts of laughter. Ackerley loosened his foot, and the second-year student immediately dragged his bag away.

Flint stood up. "Enough. You all get more pretentious every year."

Allen looked at him. "You're looking for power outside of being captain."

Flint's face sank. "What did you say?"

"Quidditch was lost, and you need to make others acknowledge that you can still suppress people. Blood status is the easiest way; you just have to use your mouth."

This was harder to hear than a direct insult. Flint gripped his cup, and the rim made a faint cracking sound.

Draco sat in his chair, his expression shifting from anger to contemplation. He had originally wanted to use the Malfoy name to suppress the situation, but Allen hadn't given him the chance. Now he saw it: Flint was stirring up a blood status conflict, but his real goal was to find a sense of authority by bullying the lowerclassmen.

Pansy closed her textbook. "This has happened four times in the last three days. The upperclassmen are talking more and more harshly."

"Because they see the Professors are busy," Nott said. "Black, Dementors, Lupin, Quidditch. Professor Snape patrols less, and the Common Room is left empty."

Zabini added, "In empty spaces, someone always wants to plant a flag."

Flint threw the cracked cup into the fireplace. "Stop pretending to be smart. Slytherin is supposed to be about blood status."

Allen pulled out his Potion essay and placed it in the center of the table. "Then you put your report card above your blood status first."

Someone in the Common Room chuckled, but quickly stifled it.

Flint glared around, but no one admitted it.

Allen continued, "Blood status can be an entrance ticket, but it cannot be an answer sheet. You lost to Gryffindor on the pitch, lost to Ravenclaw in class, and are relying on stepping on lowerclassmen in the Common Room to make up for it. Do you want to make Slytherin look strong, or do you want others to think Slytherin is all talk?"

Draco tapped his finger on the armrest. He wanted to laugh, but held it back.

Flint took a half-step forward. "Potter, don't forget, your surname is Potter too. You're preaching about Slytherin here?"

"I'm preaching about not giving Professor Snape more trouble."

Once these words were out, the Common Room became even quieter. Snape's name was more effective than any logic.

Nott flipped his notebook to another page. "If a half-blood student complains to the Dean, with Flint leading, Ackerley seconding, and Pucey watching, the result is usually detention, point deductions, and writing apologies. The House Cup scores are unstable right now, and point deductions will reach the ears of the upperclassmen."

Zabini chuckled. "Upperclassmen hate losing points because of someone else's mouth."

Pansy looked at Flint. "Do you want the whole house to practice their voices with you?"

Flint's temple twitched. He could suppress the lowerclassmen, but he couldn't suppress everyone. Especially when the topic turned from blood status to point deductions and grades, the people around him had already started to back away.

Ackerley whispered, "I was just joking."

Draco finally spoke. "Your jokes are worse than your Transfiguration."

Zabini commented, "Young Master Malfoy is back."

Allen glanced at Draco.

Draco immediately remedied, "I was talking about academic issues."

Flint stared at them for a long time, then finally grabbed his cloak. "Let's go."

The few upperclassmen left with him. The space by the fireplace opened up, and the second-year half-blood student stood there hugging his bag, hesitating before nodding at Allen.

Allen didn't respond, just opened his book.

Draco lowered his voice. "Why didn't you let me curse them back just now?"

"If you cursed back, Flint would have dragged you into a blood status debate. The Malfoy Family would look very bad."

Draco's face stiffened. "My father would agree with blood status."

"Your father is most afraid of old scores being dug up right now. The Malfoy Family just backed down after the Chamber of Secrets incident; if you publicly incite trouble in the Common Room, it's equivalent to handing a knife to Dumbledore."

Draco's Adam's apple moved. His arm still hurt, but that young master temper on his face had subsided a lot. "So in public, I continue to be arrogant, but don't touch on incitement?"

"Correct." Allen pushed a piece of parchment to him. "Four sentences. Read them whenever you encounter a similar situation in the future."

Draco looked down.

First: Slytherin is about grades and results.

Second: Don't make the Dean clean up point deductions for your mouth.

Third: Malfoy does not sign off on stupid words.

Fourth: Whoever wants to talk about blood status, bring out their report card first.

After reading it, Draco's expression was strange. "Does this sound like something I would say?"

Zabini leaned over to take a look. "It's smarter than how you actually talk."

Draco kicked his chair, then stopped because it pulled at his arm.

Nott pushed another record toward Allen. "Flint has been in contact with Pucey, Ackerley, and Warrington recently. The theme is Slytherin losing face after the Chamber of Secrets, Lucius backing down, and lowerclassmen not listening to upperclassmen."

After reading, Allen said, "The weak fighting for power."

Pansy frowned. "He's not weak, he's a good fighter."

"Being able to fight doesn't solve grades, captain evaluations, the Dean's trust, and family prospects." Allen folded the paper. "So he's looking for the cheapest sense of high status."

Nott nodded. "Blood status."

"Right. When the report cards come out after the Quidditch season, he'll be the first to be shunned by the house."

Draco leaned back in his chair. "You're truly ruthless."

"This is house logic." Allen looked at the shadows swimming outside the Black Lake. "Slytherin can be arrogant, but that arrogance must be cashable. If it can't be cashed in, it's just noise."

Zabini opened the candy box. "I like that line, it's perfect for Flint."

"Don't send it," Allen flipped the book. "Let him argue. The more he argues, the more it looks like he can't afford to lose."

Draco put away the four sentences. "Then what do I need to do?"

"Maintain your young master posture in public. Don't get close to those being excluded, and don't participate in the exclusion. Whoever forces you to take a stand, push them back with grades, point deductions, and the Dean."

"That looks very ugly."

"It looks better than being dragged into the mud by Flint."

Nott wiped his quill dry. "I will record the number of conflicts. Zabini, keep an eye on the attitudes of the upperclassmen families. Pansy, watch for rumors in the girls' dormitory."

Pansy nodded. "There are already people on the girls' side saying Flint looks like he's mimicking an old Death Eater gathering."

Draco immediately looked at her. "Who said that?"

"I won't tell you." Pansy picked up her textbook. "You want to write home the moment you hear the words 'old Death Eaters' now."

Draco's face was ugly. "I do not."

Zabini slowly closed the candy box. "Record: Yes."

Draco couldn't stand it anymore. "Can you guys stop recording everything?"

Allen pushed the book toward him. "No. Silence is more valuable than showing off."

On the other side of the Common Room, the second-year student who had been stepped on took out his books and sat in a position a bit further from the fireplace. No one chased him away again. A few lowerclassmen looked at each other and sat down one after another.

The empty seat left after Flint's departure was still there. That spot was like a thorn that had been pulled out; no one dared to touch it for a while.

Allen wrote on the parchment: Inside Slytherin, Flint is using blood status to fight for power. Handling method: Do not touch the positive debate on blood status; shift to grades, point deductions, the Dean, and family costs. Draco to maintain public image, incitement prohibited.

In the Portable Space, the void tail tip pressed on Flint's name, then moved to Draco's name.

Peter, huddled in the cage, heard words related to "Death Eaters" and his shoulders shook violently.

Allen wrote the last sentence and looked up at the entrance of the Common Room.

Cold air seeped in from the corridor outside; Dementors were still lingering on the edge of the Castle. The dog outside hadn't entered the door yet, but the people inside had already started to bite each other.

He put away the parchment. "Keep Slytherin quiet."

Draco asked: "For how long?"

Allen glanced at his cuff. "At least until the Black dog finds the way."