Chapter 268: Student Body

Snape's response caused Sir Arnold to fall silent; he gave Snape a slight nod, then smiled knowingly at everyone and continued: "Of course, these are merely superficial thoughts—we must thoroughly discuss and democratically vote on any changes before making them. We must admit that Hogwarts' traditions have been forged through countless trials and should not be altered lightly. I say this so that faculty and students need not overly concern themselves with what the Ministry may or may not do, and simply carry on as they always have—were I merely an ordinary Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Moreover, as every previous professor or headmaster has done, my Defense Against the Dark Arts classes will also bear a distinct personal style. If any student finds this unappealing, I offer my sincere apologies in advance."

With that, Arnold sat down with a smile; students and professors clapped politely, and then Snape rose again.

"Thank you very much, Sir Arnold, a highly insightful speech," he nodded slightly. "Next, I must remind everyone that Quidditch tryouts will be held on..."

"He's just a diversion," Hermione whispered. "What exactly does the Ministry want?"

"Hard to say. I think he might've reached some agreement with Snape," Harry shrugged, not particularly concerned—in his view, the Ministry was a cumbersome, largely useless giant, but at least it remained loyal to Britain.

Snape always spoke sparingly; before they could make sense of it, the room erupted in the clatter of chairs and desks—he had already dismissed them.

Neville stood and called out loudly: "First-years! This way, please!"

"Oh right, I need to guide them," Hermione jumped up hurriedly. "We'll talk later—yes, I'll come find you when I've found something."

"I don't get why she cares so much about this," Ron glanced at Arnold, still seated at the staff table. "No matter what the Ministry plans, he'll only be here a year at most."

"Clearly jealous," Ivy chimed in. "She can't stand that Harry's gained such fame—she'd rather believe there's some conspiracy behind it. Isn't that right? Last year she barely scraped onto the papers with some scandal, but now everyone's still talking about Harry."

"Don't you dare say another word about your classmates!" Harry snapped. "I'll tell Snape you've had me write all your Potions assignments!"

Ivy wisely fell silent, but wore a defiant expression.

"Same brother, why such a huge difference?" Ginny spread her hands.

"No, seriously—I think Hermione feels guilty," Ron steered the conversation back. "Last year, because of her internship, she had to help Harry's rival. Now that she's back at Hogwarts, she naturally wants to do everything she can to help Harry—it's her way of making amends, isn't it?"

"You've got a point," Harry nodded. "And maybe she's so suspicious because she's desperate to help me. Actually, I just remembered—the papers used to report on me the same way. Otherwise, how did Colin even know who I was? It's just that over the past two years, the Ministry kept quiet to avoid angering Voldemort."

"That's right—I've seen you in the papers since I was a kid," Ron sighed in relief. "Look, Fat Lady—we're here."

After entering the common room, Ginny and Ivy slipped off to their dorms. Harry glanced around: Fred and George were pasting up ads for their joke shop, hoping to use their final school days to research student preferences thoroughly.

When he entered the dorm, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were talking—but they fell silent the moment they saw him. Harry eyed them suspiciously; then Seamus stepped forward, his face flushed dark red.

"My mum said," he twisted his fingers, "she wants me to be your friend. She tells everyone I'm Harry's roommate."

"Aren't we already friends?" Harry offered a polite smile.

"We're not that close—I think it's because I'm too timid and not good enough," he stammered. "I'm not sure I'm worthy of joining your great cause."

Harry didn't know how to answer, but just then Neville returned, so he immediately said, "Why not? Isn't Neville's Lionheart Society part of a great cause too?"

"What's going on?" Neville glanced at Seamus.

"Oh, nothing, never mind," Seamus stepped back and sat on his bed, starting to paste up a poster of the Kenmare Kestrels.

"He's in Lionheart Society, right?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Seamus's been doing pretty well," Neville nodded. "But I've been thinking about something."

"What?"

"Whether Lionheart Society still has any purpose," Neville said seriously. "You see, we formed it to guard against Death Eater attacks on Hogwarts—but that threat's passed, and it doesn't seem like the school will face any new crises."

"Lionheart's made everyone tense, and people keep getting hurt during training," Neville listed the society's drawbacks. "Most importantly, the rivalry between Lion and Snake isn't confined to dueling arenas anymore—the more they train, the fiercer their everyday fights become."

"We may have pledged not to start wars," Harry said seriously, "but we must still prepare for war. Only by possessing the strength to win can we earn the right to avoid war."

"You're saying we're always the ones provoking first," Neville reflexively countered, then understood Harry's meaning. "Oh—you mean the Order and the Death Eaters? That's true—we need them to believe the student body isn't on their side, right?"

"The student body is still powerful—all the next generation of wizards are right here," Neville said. "I don't see anything wrong with the four houses uniting—maybe the Sorting Hat just fears unemployment."

"True—if not for sorting, why would it enjoy such treatment?" Ron mused. "Even the Hat has its own agenda."

"But then, how do we organize future activities?" Neville sat on the edge of his bed. "Without an external threat, we can't sustain intense training—cohesion will fade, and everyone loses clear purpose. Even if you say it's to fight Death Eaters, that's too distant, and many might not even want to fight them."

"For us, the Order and the Death Eaters mean nothing," Dean chipped in. "I joined Lionheart only because I'm Neville's friend—that's it."

"Here's an idea," Harry clapped his hands suddenly. "The Hat's advice was actually excellent—we should focus our efforts on inter-house rivalry. People might not care about Death Eaters, but they'll gladly compete against Slytherin."

"But won't that just bring outside conflicts into the school?" Ron exclaimed. "Isn't that exactly what you don't want?"

"No—Gryffindor doesn't represent the Order, and Slytherin doesn't represent the Death Eaters. You're the leader of Lionheart, but you haven't even joined the Order, have you?" Harry said. "Similarly, Malfoy hasn't fully pledged himself to the Death Eaters—he recently argued with his family over it. Soon he'll realize the student body is his only, yet highly useful, bargaining chip."

"Slytherin students—even the entire school's student body—are a force the Order and Death Eaters can't ignore, and as students graduate and grow, this force will only strengthen," Harry continued. "Old Malfoy may already see Slytherin as his to claim, and young Malfoy will seize this, keeping Slytherin students tightly under his thumb—that's the real source of his confidence when he argues with his family."

"But why would young Malfoy oppose old Malfoy?" Neville asked, puzzled.

"Maybe he doesn't believe in the Death Eaters' future," Harry analyzed. "Maybe he doesn't want to be controlled by his family, doesn't want to marry the Greengrass girl—so he deliberately distances students from the Death Eaters. Or perhaps he genuinely wants to preserve Hogwarts' independence—in which case, I'll be using him with a touch of respect."

"I think the latter's more likely," Ron said. "If it were me, I'd marry anyone over Pansy. Luna said that Greengrass girl's actually quite pretty."

"Oh, since Luna said so," Neville's face lit up in sudden understanding. "Then it must be because Malfoy doesn't want to marry Greengrass."

"Do you have some issue with Luna?" Harry asked, confused.

"I can only say she's leading the charge in embracing diverse aesthetics," Neville said diplomatically.

"Alright, no matter what, I need to talk to Malfoy soon," Harry nodded. Then he remembered another matter: the diary was still stored at Torchwood HQ, and only a spell cast jointly by all Torchwood members could retrieve it.

If Lucius wasn't pretending ignorance in meetings but was truly clueless: what if he didn't know the diary was a Horcrux—should I use the diary to give Draco more leverage?

Or perhaps Draco himself doesn't know the diary is a Horcrux, or doesn't know about Horcruxes at all, or doesn't realize his father values them deeply—all possible.

Harry felt he needed to test the waters—but he must also remain alert that this might be a coordinated ploy by father and son to probe and manipulate him. Lying in bed, he thought: I must prepare thoroughly before the conversation.