Things I Never Knew: Chapter Twelve
Chapter 12: Owned
“What were they talking about when they said you ‘saw’?” Hermione asked Harry after he told her all about the encounter with Caydon. He felt a bit guilty about talking her, he had told Snape that he wouldn’t tell anyone, but Hermione and Ron didn’t count as anyone in his mind.
Harry shrugged. “Beats me, I figured that he meant that I saw Malfoy beating him up.”
“Hm,” Hermione frowned, obviously not satisfied with this explanation, “maybe. But didn’t you say that you saw something on Caydon’s shoulder?”
“Oh, yeah. It was really weird. It looked like a shield or a crest. Do some pureblood families tattoo their children or something?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I thought that maybe it was a fake. I mean, it seemed real, but I didn’t get a really good look at it and those fakes are really popular items in the joke shops right now. Especially with the younger kids.”
“But why would he put it where no one could see it?”
“Do I look like I can read his mind? Maybe he wanted to test it out.”
“He doesn’t really seem like the fake tattoo type to me.”
“Who’s got a fake tattoo?” someone asked behind him. Harry jumped, but it was just Ron coming over to see what Harry and Hermione were talking about in the common room.
“Caydon,” Harry answered, “although it could be real.”
“Who’s Caydon?” Ron asked sitting down, obviously not that interested.
“Snape’s son.”
“Oh. Right, now I remember,” Ron yawned.
Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s really strange. It’s like a black dragon or lizard on like a family crest or something.”
Ron sat up suddenly, as though very interested. Harry and Hermione noticed the change immediately.
“What?” Hermione asked.
“Well. . .” Ron said in a very low voice, “was it . . . you know.”
“Know what?”
Ron made an odd movement with his eyes.
“Ron, what are you going on about?” Harry asked, getting impatient.
“Was it . . . on his shoulder?”
Harry and Hermione looked at each other.
“Yeah, it was,” Harry said slowly.
Ron gave a small gasp. Harry and Hermione gave each other another look, still completely confused.
“Ron!” Hermione snipped finally, utterly frustrated at not knowing the answers, “are you going to tell us what you’re getting at or not?”
“Well, yeah,” Ron whispered, “although I’m surprised that Hermione hasn’t already read about it. See, when a person has that kind of tattoo there, it means . . . ” Ron trailed off as a third year walked by within about ten feet of them. Harry sighed in frustration, obviously whatever Ron was getting at was big, very big. Harry just wished that he would come out and say it.
“Come on,” Ron muttered, looking around nervously, “let’s go back up to our room. No one is there. I just came from there.”
“Okay,” Harry said reluctantly.
By the time they were back up at the boy’s room, Hermione was nearly brimming over with impatience at Ron and Harry wasn’t much better. Why wouldn’t Ron just tell them what was going on?
Harry closed the door. “Okay, spill it, Ron,” he sighed.
“Well, those marks, they’re given to people who are Owned.”
Harry had no idea what that meant, but he could tell by the tone in Ron’s voice that “Owned” was capitalized. Obviously whatever Ron was trying to say was significant.
“What?” Harry asked.
“Owned. . . it means. . . well, I don’t really know that much about it. It’s not something that is freely spoken of in most circles. See, some wizards - some very rich wizards - they sort of Own other wizards. They can legally control those wizards and get all the benefits from their labor.”
Both Harry and Hermione gaped at him, but (as Harry soon realized), they were thinking very different things.
Hermione found her voice first. “So you mean they’re slaves!” she shrieked.
Ron cringed. “I guess you could put it that way. But it’s considered really rude to call them that, Hermione. And I think they have some rights.”
“So do you think that Caydon is one of these . . . Owned?” Harry asked. It sounded weird for some reason.
“Well, I can’t think of why else he would have a mark like that on his shoulder. It’s the mark of someone who is Owned, Harry. Although there is something kind of odd about it. Like, I didn’t think that children who were Owned went to Hogwarts. And if Caydon is Owned, then that means . . . ” Ron drew in a sharp breath and looked at Harry.
“Snape . . . ” Harry breathed.
“Wow. That must be right though, I mean the only way that you can be Owned is if your parents are. There haven’t been any new people like that for - gee, I don’t know - probably hundreds of years.”
“Excuse me,” Hermione pipped up, primly, “am I the only upset by the fact that human slavery is tolerated in the wizarding world. I mean, the House Elves were bad enough, but I never thought . . . ”
“I can’t believe you’ve never read about this before, Hermione,” Ron said.
“Well, I think I have. I think I’ve read about the beginnings of it in a history of magic book about the medieval period. I just assumed that it didn’t still exist.”
“But who Owns them?” Harry asked, not much interested in the history or ethics of wizard slavery at the moment.
Ron shrugged. “It could be anyone with money. I’ve heard that some families Own whole villages full of people.”
“We could look it up,” Hermione said suddenly.
“What?” Ron asked.
“Harry saw what was on the crest. There is a book with all Britain’s wizarding families’ crests in it in the library. We could look it up.”
“That is a good idea, Hermione,” Ron said.
“I don’t know,” Harry mumbled, uncomfortably, “it’s not really any of our business, is it?”
“The more we know about Snape, the better,” Ron insisted, stubbornly.
“Besides, can you really just let it rest now that you know this much, Harry?”
“No,” Harry admitted, reluctantly.
There was a long pause. Hermione began tapping her foot impatiently.
“WELL,” she said after a moment.
“Well, what?” Ron asked lazily, having already collapsed onto his bed.
“Are you two going to come with me to the library or not?”
“You mean now?” Harry asked.
“Now is as good a time as any,” Hermione sniffed.
“Why don’t you just go on without us, Hermione,” Ron said, winking at Harry.
“Oh no!” Hermione insisted, “I’m not doing all the work for you two this time. You’re coming with me!”
Hermione dragged both boys off to the library where they promptly sat down.
“You can look for that book Hermione,” Ron said, “We’ll help you when you find it.”
“Oh, honestly!” Hermione huffed, loudly. Several people around them shushed her. Hermione stormed off.
“You do that on purpose, don’t you?” Harry teased Ron.
“I don’t know what your talking about, Harry,” Ron said innocently, winking at Harry again. “Want to play Exploding Snap?”
Harry looked around a bookshelf to see that Hermione was talking to Madam Pince.
“Sure,” Harry said, smiling.
Hermione was not amused when she came back. She had a stack of books in her hand and she silently handed the top two to Harry and Ron.
“What’s this?” Ron asked. “I thought you knew of a book about family crests.”
“There are several books about family crests. If we each take one, we should find it in no time. Plus, I got some of these because I want to read up on this Owned stuff. There didn’t really seem to be much about it, though.”
Harry began to flip through his book as Hermione sat down. Ron rolled his eyes and opened up his book and pretended to look through it. Hermione took out a sheet of parchment and a quill and began to question Harry.
“Harry, what did you say that tattoo looked like again?”
“It was like a black dragon or maybe a lizard - it had a very snakelike head though - it was on a grey ground and I think it was holding something in its claw.”
Hermione, who had been writing busily, stopped abruptly at this. “Was it an axe?” she asked suddenly.
Harry shrugged. “Could have been. It was definitely a weapon of some kind.”
Without saying another word, Hermione grabbed her book and began looking through the index in the back.
“What? What is it?” Ron asked, groggily as though he had been dozing.
“Shhhh, I want to check something. I think I’ve seen that crest before,” Hermione said before devoting her full attention to her book, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Ron looked at Harry quizzically, but Harry merely shrugged back at his friend.
“Ah-ha,” Hermione said softly, after a moment, turning to a page near the middle of the book. She looked down at the page and smiled in satisfaction, the way she often did when she had just figured something out. She handed the book to Harry. “That it?” she asked.
Harry looked down and saw a dragon in a very similar position to the one that he had seen on Caydon’s shoulder. A battle axe was clutched in one of its horrible claws.
“Yeah, I think so,” Harry said. “The dragon was a little different though. More snakelike or something.”
“Well this book has the original versions or as close as it can get, so it could have changed over time. But look at the name Harry.” She pointed to the name, written in calligraphy in the upper left hand corner.
“Malfoy. . .” Harry read aloud, his mind not immediately registering the significance of this. “Malfoy!”
“It really makes a lot of sense if you think about it,” Hermione said. “It explains a lot. Like why Snape has always seemed so connected to Lucius Malfoy or why he lets Draco get away with murder in his class - even more than the other Slytherins.”
“Or why he doesn’t seem to mind that Malfoy just beat his kid into pulp,” Harry said. This is horrible,” he added, softly. “Can you imagine Lucius Malfoy being in control of your life?”
Ron seemed to agree from the distasteful expression on his face. “God, not even Snape deserves that.”
“Caydon definitely doesn’t.”
“Excuse me, but which is worse, the fact that our society allows slavery or the fact Lucius Malfoy Owns people?”
Harry privately thought that the reality of being Owned by someone like Lucius Malfoy was far more appalling, but he said nothing, not wanting to incur Hermione’s wrath.
Ron shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not slavery, Hermione, not really. I think it’s a little different.”
“And what, precisely, is different about it, Ronald?”
“It just is. It’s hard to explain. I don’t know enough about it.”
“These people are oppressed!” she practically yelled.
“What do you know about it?” Ron asked irritably, “you didn’t even know it existed until I told you.”
“Well I’m going to know about it. I’m going to read everything I can find about it and then I’m going to . . . ”
“Hermione,” Harry said, sharply, “you can’t turn this into some kind of spew thing. I don’t want Snape to know that I told you guys. He obviously wanted to keep it quiet.” Part of Harry honestly thought that it seemed somewhat unscrupulous to reveal these things, even if it was an accident, but the bigger part of him objected because Snape knew his secret and could decide to tell at any time.
“Number one, it’s S.P.E.W. not spew,” Hermione snipped, “and number two, there’s no way that he could know that you told me since he doesn’t even know that you know.”
“He knows that I saw Caydon’s tattoo,” Harry insisted, “he would easily figure it out. He’s Snape.”
After the next D.A. meeting Caydon approached Harry, nervously.
“Hello, Harry,” he said.
“Did you have a question, Caydon?” Harry asked trying to keep his voice neutral.
“No, actually I, um . . . ” Caydon trailed off.
Harry couldn’t help but smile. Usually, it was he who was unnerved around the boy, despite the fact that he was the elder. Caydon was almost always in control of the situation. Harry felt bad for Caydon, but also couldn’t suppress his satisfaction at finally having the upper hand.
“You saw my shoulder,” Caydon finally managed.
“Yes,” Harry said, carefully.
“Did you - I mean, did you wonder about it?”
“You mean did I know what it meant?”
Caydon paled, visibly.
“I found out,” Harry said, shortly.
Caydon covered his mouth with his hand, looking horrified. “You can’t tell anyone!” he burst out. “Please, please, please promise me that you won’t, Harry. If anyone found out - I would have to leave Hogwarts. My father could lose his job . . . please, Harry?”
“I wouldn’t . . . ” Harry began, but Caydon appeared to be hyperventilating.
“My father is going to kill me,” he whimpered. “He’s been teaching here forever and no one has ever found out. I’ve been going here for a few months and Harry Potter knows.”
“Caydon, it wasn’t your fault. And he doesn’t have to know,” Harry reassured him, simply.