"Drink, Lord Slytherin?" Lord Malfoy asked when they arrived.
"Ogden's 59, if you have it."
"O-Of course." Lord Malfoy picked up the bottle and Harry couldn't help noticing the man's knuckles whitening around the bottle. "So," he started once he'd poured Harry a glass and sat down beside his wife, "what can this humble wizard do for you?"
"I'm planning on taking my place on the Hogwarts board soon and I wanted to discuss some key issues I intend to bring up."
"And you would talk with me? Rather than your Lord Greengrass?"
"One of those issues requires a… shall we say, more united front, than the usual trivialities of whether to upgrade the school brooms."
Malfoy hesitated with his glass halfway to his lips. "Oh?"
"Dumbledore."
Narcissa breathed in sharply. "Y-You intend to go after Dumbledore?"
"I feel that the time may be coming where he could better utilise his many talents somewhere else."
Lucius and Narcissa shared a meaningful look.
"And how do you plan to accomplish this?" Lord Malfoy asked. "Dumbledore's supporters hold the power on the board not even the Dark and your Gray together would be able to remove him." Harry made a nonchalant hand gesture. "Dumbledore might soon be having some problems."
"Really?" Interest pierced through Malfoy's otherwise cautious eyes. "I haven't heard any issues coming up."
"That's because they don't exist yet." Harry took a sip from his glass. "Mm, on that note, there is one thing I'd appreciate your assistance with."
Malfoy slightly inclined his head.
"Harry Potter."
Narcissa sucked in her breath through her teeth. "The little boy who couldn't keep his hands to himself?" "The very same. I'd like him isolated for the next month."
"Just isolated? Just the next month? Seems rather lenient."
"Ah, well, I believe Dumbledore,"—he spat the name—"would say that the greatest power in the world is love."
Silence.
Then Narcissa gasped. "Love potion? But, he is noble."
"And was never taught how to call his ring." "Then why the isolation?" Malfoy's eyes sharpened. "This has something to do with Dumbledore's problems." Harry idly swirled his drink in his glass and smiled behind his mask. "Perhaps. Either way, I hope I can count on your support on this?"
Lucius and Narcissa exchanged another look. Then they both turned back and nodded.
Ten minutes later, Harry walked to the edge of the Malfoy wards, crossed over, and chain apparated back to his Hogsmeade apartment. The meeting with Lord Malfoy had gone well — amazingly well, in fact. Harry had been expecting to fight with the man on an upcoming Dark focused Wizengamot bill or two, maybe make some well chosen concessions in return for Harry's requests, but no, Malfoy had practically rolled over like a dog before his master. The way Malfoy reacted when Harry had asked for that particular Ogden's vintage was telling. It had been Tommy boy's favourite, after all. If Malfoy had gotten it into his head that Lord Slytherin was Voldemort… well, it would certainly make his life easier in the next few weeks.
He conjured his favourite armchair and sat down. Right now however, he had an empty time slot available to deal with something that had been demanding his attention for the last few days.
"Elf!"
A young naked house elf popped into the space in front of Harry, vibrating with enthusiasm, bowing so low his long nose touched the floor. "Master, your elf is at your service."
"Good. I've thought long about what you will be called and have decided. From now on, your name shall be Plato."
The elf looked up from the floor with eyes as large as bright as lightbulbs. "Oh, thank you, Master. Plato will do his best to serve his Master, Master."
Harry nodded. "Let's set down some rules, okay?"
The newly named Plato nodded his head up and down, still bowed to the floor.
"Rule one — you need only bow to me once upon being called, then you will stand at rest."
Plato instantly straightened.
"Rule two — when I am wearing this mask, you must call me either, 'Master,' or, 'Lord Slytherin,' never anything else, understand?" Plato nodded. "Understood, Master Lord Slytherin."
"Rule three," Harry took off his mask, drank an ageing potion antidote, and un-transfigured his face. "When I am like this you must call me either, 'Harry Potter,' or, 'Mister Potter,' never anything else, understood?"
Plato regarded him with wide-eyes. "Master is young Master."
"Do you understand, Plato?" demanded, his voice turning firmer.
Harry
Plato quickly nodded. "Plato understands, Mister Potter"
"Good." Harry put the mask back on. "Shall we move on?" "As Master Lord Slytherin wishes, Master Lord Slytherin."
"Rule four — as a member of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin, you must always comport yourself with the dignity and bearing of the house. Do you understand?"
Plato stood a bit unashamed by his understands, Master."
taller, completely nakedness. "Plato
"Rule five — you are never to speak the secrets of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin to anyone who is not of the House, under threat of clothes, understood?"
A twinge of fear entered Plato's eyes. "Plato understands, Master."
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