Chapter 13: Death and Domain - Chapter 13
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When the door closed in front of him, Isaac turned. "Did you really have a pet frog growing up?" he asked, looking at me weirdly.
I shot him the same look back. "What do you think?" My tone was dry as a cat's tongue.
Isaac paused for a second, then gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Fair enough. Quick thinking, that." He slid back onto the seat and lounged back, fingers rapping against the wood of the table. "Any reason why you're trying to cozy up with golden girl and her goons?"
His question seemed innocent enough, but that small, casual smile of his told me exactly what this was.
"That's a stupid question and you know it," I said, but he just raised an eyebrow, waiting.
The boy was testing me.
I rolled my eyes. "Fine, I'll spell it out. For some reason, Slytherins got into their mind that fraternizing with the other houses was a weakness, when, in fact, limiting your social circle based on the whims of a thousand-year-old magical hat is nothing but moronic.
"You said it yourself, Dumbledore's faction holds the Wizengamot, narrow as that advantage might be, and Potter is primed to join his side once she takes her ladyship. Might the one to take Dumbledore's spot, even. She's got the name and the fame for it. And considering my own reputation might be irreparable to certain individuals in Slytherin, I intend to socially branch out to the other houses." Raising one hand, I gave him a one-finger salute. "That good enough for you, Selwyn?"
The smile on his face widened. "Just checking."
I clicked my tongue, pretending to be more annoyed than I was. I'd thought of going ahead and telling him about my deal with Snape and how that would help to pull Rose further into my orbit, but there was no need to put all my cards on the table with him.
Not only would that be extremely irresponsible as far as secrecy goes, but giving up all my plans to him would be the equivalent of telling him we would be going forward in our ventures, no matter the form those took, as equals. And that's certainly not what I had in mind.
"Yeah, yeah," I started again, voice full of exasperation. "I suppose I would be doubting the guy who didn't even know whatever that special little club of yours is."
It was an obvious hook to pick that conversation back up, but you couldn't afford subtlety when you were as desperately uninformed as I was.
Fortunately, Isaac took pity on me. "Oh right, that. I'm telling you, you can ask anyone who's anyone about this. It's no great secret." He sounded as if it offended him that he couldn't give me a scoop. It seemed he took pride in his work as a little fly on the wall. "Some three years ago Malfoy brought some of the traditional families together and formed a coalition in the Wizengamot, the Purists. Then—"
"I thought this was an economic club of sorts," I interrupted with a frown.
"It is," Isaac allowed. Then he leaned forward over the table, and this time he was eager to share. "But if you ask me, I think the Purist movement was a brainchild of the Club. The Selwyns are part of it too, of both, but my father never mentioned how or when the Club started. The movement, though, I remember the night Malfoy called on my father. He was out of the house the whole night and came back very drunk. Very drunk and very talkative. Apparently, every major family who might vote their way was there—and Department Heads that lean traditional too. Then in the next months, the Wizengamot passed act after act striking down antitrust laws and raising taxes on foreign goods."
"And Dumbledore allowed it? Even with a majority?"
He smiled. "That's the thing. The Silvers—Dumbledore's faction, only have a majority because they have a pretty tight bloc with the Moderates. The Purists can't pass anything too big. All their acts for loosening the rules around dark magic and cutting down on the ICW's influence in Britain failed. But the Moderates are mostly made out of old families too, and they thought the economic reforms would benefit them just as much as the Purists."
"They just didn't expect Malfoy's Club to be so ready to jump as soon as those economic acts passed," I said, taking the story down to its logical conclusion. "Bold move, though I suspect these Moderates aren't very fond of the Purists anymore, then."
"Oh, they hate them. But Malfoy snuck in clauses in the new acts that make it so only a supermajority can strike them down. A supermajority that won't happen so long as exactly sixteen members of the Wizengamot vote against it."
"The number of families in the Club," I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief. "Holy shit. The other stuff on dark magic and the ICW must have all been smokescreens to keep Dumbledore and everyone else occupied while they set their claws down on the economy. And now the Club holds Magical Britain by its throat."
Isaac just shrugged. "Pretty much."
I didn't say anything else, just settled back on the padded bench, stunned. I had to give it to Malfoy. It was a genius play. The kind of thing I didn't know he had in him given what I knew of him from the books. Bribery and foolish arrogance seemed to be his modus operandi.
Then I chuckled to myself. There it was. Another reason to avoid underestimating the people I thought I knew inside and out in this world. Rose Potter had a sense of confidence that she shouldn't, and Malfoy was suddenly a master politico. What else—
Wait.
"Isaac," I said out loud, my mind working frantically. "What are the families in the Club of Sixteen? If it's alright for you to tell me," I added. "I don't want to put you against your family, given your father is a member."
There was a flash of satisfaction in Isaac's eyes at the mention of his family—or was it specifically his father?—but then it was gone just as quickly. "Oh no, it's fine." He waved me off, smiling easily. "Like I said, it's more of an open secret than anything. And it's the usual suspects, really. Nott, Black, Rowle, Burke, Carrow, Yaxley, Greengrass, Lestrange, Malfoy, Avery, Parkinson, Rosier, Bulstrode, Selwyn, Flint, and Travers."
I would remember all the names easily enough, but at the moment all I heard was the last one. "Travers, you say. Justin's family. They have money, then, if they are in the Club?"
"Not in comparison to the likes of Malfoy, Black, and Greengrass, but they're wealthy enough."
The realization had already come, but I had to know for sure. "And I suspect the heirs to all these families get some allowance during the year, right?"
"To maintain their standing among their peers, yes." The answer was as if read from a script, though he seemed confused with my line of questioning. "Why do you ask?"
I was starting to get a headache. "It seems I underestimated our dear friends again," I breathed, one hand going to my temple. I needed to stop doing that or I wouldn't even get a chance to go up against the big hitters going around this world. A pair of teenagers would do my ass in.
"What do you mean?" Isaac asked, frowning.
I looked out the window, suddenly feeling tired. "Do the math, Isaac. There were no professors near the platform, and McGonagall and Flitwick are there every year. Travers has at least some money, and the littlest Weasley said the twins were just paid this morning. Is it any surprise Cassius and Justin were bold enough to chase me in front of everyone?"
The compartment fell silent, only the jostle of the train serving as a soothing white noise. I closed my eyes and let myself drift off.
A few moments later, just before I fell asleep, I heard Isaac mutter a simple, "Oh."
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