When the Slytherins entered the classroom, every head turned their way.
The Ravenclaw students instinctively drifted to the sides of the room, while a few Hufflepuffs—those on good terms with Harry—stepped up to stand behind him and his friends. Since all the Gryffindors had already signed up in their common room, only Harry, Hermione, and Ron were present from their House.
Suppressing her obvious dislike, Hermione joined Ron at Harry's side.
Yes, the detective society was open to all four Houses—but everyone knew this was a Gryffindor-led operation. If the Slytherins showed up, it was either to make trouble or not at all. The idea of them actually joining a club led by Gryffindors? Not a chance.
So, when Draco Malfoy strode in, no one believed for a second he was here to sign up.
Draco caught the mood and sneered, chin held high as he addressed Harry. "Didn't you say all four Houses could join? What's this, then—are you looking down on Slytherin, or are we not one of Hogwarts' Houses anymore?"
Harry adjusted his glasses and took a steadying breath. "Of course, Slytherin's welcome. Are you here to join?"
Draco nodded, then asked, "I heard that if you join, you get to post missions. Is that true? If so, we're in."
He shot a smug grin at Goyle and Crabbe behind him.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron traded equally smug looks, quickly producing three pieces of parchment. "As long as you complete these fifteen test questions, you're in."
Suddenly, the three Slytherins' faces soured—clearly feeling set up. None of them reached for the test papers.
Ron sized up Draco with a smirk. "We're all about fairness, justice, and transparency. Even Gryffindors have to fill out this test to join. It's Professor Holmes's rule. If it's too hard for you… well, you don't have to join."
At that, Harry and Hermione glanced nervously toward the little door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The rumor mill was spiraling out of control—soon, people would be saying Professor Holmes himself had founded the detective society. If he ever caught wind of that, the three of them would be in for it.
But as soon as Draco heard it was Professor Holmes's requirement, he snatched up the test paper. Goyle and Crabbe, seeing Draco's lead, reluctantly followed suit.
One look at the questions and they both wilted. Draco managed to keep his composure, but Goyle and Crabbe tugged at his sleeve, whispering, "Let's just give up." "These look like essay prompts! We can't even finish our regular homework…"
Draco shook his head, scanning every question before looking up. "No problem. We'll write them. Just don't try to make up any other excuses later."
With that, Draco spun on his heel and strode out, Goyle and Crabbe scrambling after him.
Watching them go, Ron snorted. "We're really letting them join?"
Hermione sighed. "Who else knows more about You-Know-Who and Black than Slytherins? If they join, maybe we'll get more information."
The others exchanged glances. That's it?
A buzz of conversation broke out.
"Are the Slytherins scared?"
"Well, think whose classroom this is. No matter how high and mighty they act, too much homework still scares them."
Goyle and Crabbe overheard, whirling around to glare and shake their fists at the group. Draco swept his gaze around the room, smirked, and called, "Let's go!"
They left to a chorus of snickers and laughter.
—
Thursday, Slytherin's Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
No sooner had class begun than Draco Malfoy approached the front with three pieces of parchment—one a full two feet long, the other two barely five or six inches.
Douglas took the forms, reading the header: [Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Charon Detective Society Registration Test]. He looked at Draco, brow raised.
"Mr. Malfoy, I trust you understand this is Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Your detective society meets after five o'clock."
Draco met his gaze, all seriousness. "Professor, Mr. Potter from Gryffindor said these tests are to be handed to you. As your class representative, I thought it best not to trouble them with the delivery…"
Douglas was momentarily stunned—how had this landed back on his desk?
His expression soured, but he accepted the three applications and moved on with the lesson. Soon, the classroom was filled with the sound of students reciting from their textbooks.
—
The last Defence Against the Dark Arts class on Thursday was with the Gryffindor third years.
As soon as class started, Douglas called on Harry. "Tell me about Dementors."
Harry looked blank, glancing at Hermione for help.
Douglas rapped his knuckles on the desk. "What are you looking at? Do you expect Miss Granger to whisper you the answers during your exams, too?"
Harry scratched his head, uncertain. "Professor, I don't think Dementors are covered in the third-year textbook?"
In truth, he couldn't remember. Sometimes the textbook mentioned advanced dark creatures in passing, but usually, Douglas would assign them to research such creatures in the library and annotate the materials himself.
Douglas let out a cold snort. "If it's not in the textbook, you just don't bother to learn? There are Dementors floating outside the castle right now—an incredible opportunity for observation. And you can't be bothered to study them?"
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances and both shook their heads—they were just as lost.
Harry blurted out, "Dementors are creatures that guard Azkaban. They… wear cloaks, have pale hands… oh, and they're afraid of the Patronus Charm…"
He looked at Douglas, hoping that was enough.
Douglas's voice was flat. "Is that all?"
Harry thought for a moment, then nodded. That was all he knew.
Douglas's gaze shifted to Ron, who immediately ducked his head—he knew even less than Harry.
Hermione's hand shot up, but Douglas ignored her and continued, "Until the Ministry finds Black, the Dementors are unlikely to leave Hogwarts. No matter how careful you are, you're bound to have run-ins with creatures that have no emotions. Of course, you can't handle them yet, but the more you know, the better prepared you'll be."
Then, turning back to Harry, "Defence Against the Dark Arts is about defense. When you see a dangerous dark creature, you just let it be? Gryffindor, minus three points."
The class erupted in whispers. Was Professor Holmes actually Professor Snape in disguise?
Harry could only stare, bewildered. After an entire summer with his cousin, he knew he must have annoyed him somehow. Still, he didn't protest. He simply sat down, resigned—after all, with all the points he'd lost in Potions lately, Douglas was practically being gentle.
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