Chapter 1: This Emo Man Showed up and Told me I'm a Wizard
Chapter Text
Harry knew that he wasn’t normal. His aunt and uncle told him so every day, usually accompanied by screaming or swinging hands. It wasn’t too hard for him to realize that many things that happened when he was around weren’t exactly natural, and they never happened to anyone else around him. Harry knew that freaks deserved to be locked up, and that Petunia and Vernon Dursley were justified in shoving him in the cupboard under the stairs. He just wishes that it wasn’t himself in this position.
Still, Harry tried to appease the Dursleys as much as he could. He cleaned, cooked, and pulled weeds for Petunia. He wanted to make himself as small as possible in that house, spending most of the time wishing he could just disappear.
Harry spent most of the first ten years of his life running from Dudley and his friends, appeasing Petunia and Vernon in whatever way possible, and accepting whatever punishment came for him; he deserved it, after all. The only good part he could remember from his childhood was the school library. He spent most of his time at school there, curled up in a dim corner with whatever book interested him that day. His teachers gave up trying to discipline or teach him, dismissing him with a wave of their hand and muttering about mental issues. The librarian took pity on him and didn’t make him go back to class. Dudley probably couldn’t even read, so he took this time to read about whatever he wanted. He was fascinated by everything; he learned a great deal about science, nature, as well as fantasy books and fairy tales. Whenever there was something Harry was truly interested in, he couldn’t find it in himself to stop researching it. He spent all his free time in the school library, and when that ran out of source material, he’d either find extra time to go to the public library or skip out on school. He’d only been caught twice, once when he was seven and once when he was eight, and Vernon hadn’t been pleased. Having to constantly sneak around Dudley just meant that he had to try harder not to be noticed, and he’d not been caught skipping since.
Despite learning new things from the library every day, the Dursleys constantly told him that he was quite dull. That a waste of space like him wouldn’t amount to anything, and he should be grateful that they even acknowledged him. So, when a letter arrived addressed to Harry of all people, he was reasonably startled. It was addressed to Mr H. Potter, The Cupboard under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive. The odd part truly was that it knew he lived in a cupboard. It wasn’t wrong, but how exactly did the writer know? He was about to open the letter when it was quickly snatched from his hands by Dudley.
“Harry’s got something!” Dudley dutifully brought the letter back to Vernon, and Mr. Dursley snorted.
“Who’d be writing to you?” Though Vernon sounded smart, he paled after a moment. “Petunia!” He gasped, and Petunia shared his shock as she read the front of the letter over Vernon’s shoulder. “Out.” Vernon couldn’t rip his eyes off the letter in his hand. Looking up, almost as if realizing Harry and Dudley were still in the room, he raised his voice. “GET OUT!” Harry needed no reminding, and he quickly scurried out of the room, followed more slowly by Dudley.
After shoving him away, Dudley listened through the keyhole while Harry dropped down to listen from the crack under the door. Petunia and Vernon were talking quietly and rapidly, but Harry picked up bits and pieces of what they were saying.
“The address! Are they watching the house?” Veronon muttered, sounding wild.
“Should we write back?” Petunia sounded like she was pacing. “No, no. We should ignore it… what if they keep coming?”
“If they don’t get an answer… best action…” Vernon sounded uncharacteristically uncertain.
“I won’t stand for another one of them in this house. I swore I’d stamp out this nonsense with my sister gone.” Petunia moved towards the door, and Harry dashed back, trying not to look like he was just eavesdropping.
After Petunia opened the door, she patted Dudley on the head, then glared at Harry. “Cupboard. Now.” And that was the end of that.
~
The next few weeks are what Harry would categorize as ‘complete and utter nonsense’. Harry was moved into a smaller room in the house by an unwilling Vernon, yet it was still entirely larger than the cupboard. Even as Harry was cautiously optimistic, he was also very spooked. More letters arrived, and though Harry knew they were addressed to him, Vernon viciously denied it. Vernon eventually nailed the mail slot shut, and when that was blocked off, letters started raining from the windows every morning. In all this chaos, Harry managed to hold on to one, but it only confused him more. It was addressed to him, sure, but it must have been some prank. Inside was a letter telling him that he was accepted to a Wizarding School, and there was a whole list of ridiculous items he was supposed to have.
Harry would have gone to the library to try to see if there was any information on this whatsoever, but Vernon blocked him from leaving the house. “Everyone- we’re leaving in five minutes. Pack some clothes, no arguments.”
The next two days included hours of driving, staying at a hotel only to get more letters, and more driving. Even though Harry had gotten his hands on a letter, he had no idea how to act on it. This was no prank, surely. Who would have the money to mail hundreds of letters to him, and why was Vernon going insane over the fact? Using the hours spent travelling as time to contemplate, the only realistic explanation Harry arrived at was, well, magic. How could each letter know where exactly he was staying, plus the contents were talking about wizards and magic?
On the second night that Vernon had spent trying to outrun the letters, they stayed in a small hut in the middle of a lake. Vernon truly was mad if he drove them out here in this weather.
Late in the night, there was a loud banging on the door. Vernon refused to open it, but it just slammed open itself. Outside the door revealed a very drenched and cross-looking man in voluminous back clothes was revealed. His eyes scanned the people in the room and locked onto Harry with a hawk's precision. Harry shifted uncomfortably from where he had been sitting in the corner, unused to any adult looking at him so closely.
“You are Mr. Potter, correct?” The man sounded ticked off.
Vernon cut off Harry before he could say anything. “I demand you leave at once! I’m armed!” Vernon aimed his rifle at the man, not noticing how the man narrowed his eyes in annoyance.
“Vernon and… Petunia Dursley. Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to collect Harry Potter since you’re so… unwilling to aid him.”
“Vernon.” Petunia’s voice sounded strained, and Harry saw a face of true fear on her. “Put down the rifle.”
Vernon, however, didn’t seem to hear Petunia. His face was red and trembling, and he aimed the rifle. The drenched man took out a small stick, a wand, Harry speculated, and flicked it silently. The barrel of the rifle twisted up and around, contorting into a knot, and Vernon promptly dropped the weapon.
The man turned back to Harry and continued. “You may call me Professor Snape. I was sent to make sure you acknowledged your acceptance, considering you are unable to send an owl.”
Harry didn’t mean to be rude, but he just stared at the man, Professor Snape, for a second. Everything he’s saying sounds crazy, but Harry just saw him bend metal with the flick of a wand. “Admission to what? A school for…Wizards?” There must have been something in his expression, because Snape turned sharply to Petunia.
“You didn’t-you didn’t inform him whatsoever?” Professor Snape snapped, and Petunia shrank back with a disgusted look on her face.
“You and your kind, you’re all freaks!” Petunia refused to say more, so the man turned back to Harry once again.
“Yes, you got admitted to Hogwarts, a magic school. Your parents both went, and you are also accepted. There, you’ll be able to learn about magic and the wizarding world, seeing as the Dursleys refuse to tell you.”
Vernon wasn’t done arguing, and his face was redder than it’s ever been. “We’re not paying for some crackpot to teach him magic tricks! He’s not going!” he roared, and Professor Snape rounded on him once again.
“That’s not up to you to decide, Dursley.” Snape sighed. “Harry Potter, I can take you shopping for all the supplies you’ll need tomorrow, if you choose to. Would you like to come with me and stay somewhere… nicer tonight?” Snape seemed to grind the last sentence out against his will, but he seemed genuine.
For all that this man didn’t explain right now, Harry trusted him more than the Dursleys any day. “Um- yes, Sir.” Harry stood up and followed the man to the entrance of the hut. The rain had abated, leaving it sprinkling.
Snape sighed. “This might be slightly uncomfortable, but I’m going to apparate us. Just hold onto my arm.” Harry did as he was told, and the world twisted around him. It felt as though he was being sucked through a particularly long swirly straw, and when the world stopped stretching him, his back hit the ground.
Snape sighed once again and reached a hand down to help Harry up, and when he got his bearings, Harry saw that they were on a long street. “This is the Leaky Cauldron,” Snape explained. “We will do your shopping tomorrow, but for tonight we’ll sleep here.”
Harry just nodded and followed Snape inside, and listened as the Professor requested two rooms for the night. Once Snape pointed Harry to the door and nodded to him goodnight, Harry closed the door behind himself. Sinking onto the bed, he replayed what had happened tonight. None of this seemed real, nor the fact that magic was real. He was still unpacking that himself. Before he could run himself ragged thinking about it all, Harry instead fell asleep almost immediately on the soft mattress.
~
Severus Snape was not a morning person. Despite this, he found himself knocking on the door of the brat’s room in this horrible shack that was the Leaky Cauldron. The boy quickly opened the door, and his eyes widened briefly at Snape. He had the same eyes as Lily, yet he looked irritatingly similar to James Potter. This fact alone almost made him sneer at the boy, but he refrained. Just from a single confrontation with his ‘family’, Severus knew that they were the worst kind of Muggles. It was quite a rude shock when Dumbledore requested that he go find the boy, and an even ruder shock when Dumbledore told him that the boy was staying with Petunia. Severus knew her when he was a child, and she’d never been pleasant, but she seemed even more immature and snobbish with the years.
“If you’re quite ready, we may go to breakfast.” Severus turned on his heel and heard the boy scramble to follow him. Downstairs, the shack wasn’t any better. It rubbed Severus all the wrong ways, but he supposed he could ignore that for the time being. After settling down at a table, a plate of eggs and bacon appeared in front of Harry. The boy’s eyes widened, and he looked around for where it could have come from. The bartender, Tom, winked at the boy and then made a cup of tea appear in front of Severus. Severus rolled his eyes at the man in a very unprofessional manner.
After a quiet breakfast, Severus led Harry to the brick wall entrance to Diagon Alley. “This is the entrance to Diagon Alley, where you’ll be doing your shopping.” Before Harry could question the lack of a door, Severus tapped his wand on the wall, and it promptly fell away to show an already bustling street full of wizards.
“Whoa.” The boy’s eyes were blown wide. Almost immediately after stepping onto the street, a few different people swarmed Harry to talk to him. Harry looked very confused but thanked the few, and Severus brushed them off.
“We should head to the bank to get the necessary funds for you.” Severus strode down the lane, and anyone else who recognised Harry didn’t dare approach.
“Why did all those people know me? And congratulate me?” Harry questioned Severus as they continued to walk.
Severus steeled himself to answer. “Your… parents. Once you were born, a powerful dark wizard went after your family, and though your parents…perished, he was also defeated that night. So they were thanking you for taking out the Dark Lord. Many people might revere you as a celebrity or some such trifling title.” Harry digested this information for a moment.
“Petunia said that my parents died in a car crash.” Harry didn’t sound distressed, and there was a critical glint in his eye.
“Well, Petunia certainly didn’t want to tell you anything about magic.” Severus barely held back a scowl.
They acquired Harry’s money, as well as the package Dumbledore sent him to grab, and Severus took Harry to all the required shops to buy what he needed. Every time Harry had a question, Severus begrudgingly answered it. Severus wouldn’t admit it, but this kid isn’t as much of a brat as he thought he’d be.
~
Harry quite enjoyed shopping, even though the boy in the clothing store had been a right prick. Professor Snape had sent Harry to get his robes, and that boy, Draco, was being quite rude about almost everything possible. Harry didn’t know much about the wizarding world, but Draco seemed like the wizarding version of Dudley. Professor Snape also took Harry to get his wand, as well as a pet owl.
Other than that, Harry enjoyed the bookstore the most. Snape had to remind him to only buy the books he was required to, though he did recommend a few others on basic potions and defense. “It’s because I’m the potions teacher at Hogwarts,” Snape had responded. “I don’t need you waltzing into my classroom and blowing it up.”
Though Professor Snape was callous and a bit cold, Harry couldn’t help but be a bit sad to see him go. Snape handed him a small letter. “There’s your ticket for the train to Hogwarts. Don’t forget, platform nine and three-quarters.” Snape strode away, leaving Harry to catch a bus back to the Dursleys.
~
The last month Harry spent at the Dursleys went both fast and slow at the same time. He spent most of his time in his room or at the library reading the new books he got. Magic fascinated him, and he was more than eager to read up on everything he probably missed while growing up with the Dursleys. Another plus was that Petunia and Vernon no longer ordered him around, and Dudley was a bit scared of him.
On the day he was supposed to go to the station, Petunia approached him. “I’ll take you to the station.” She looked pale and didn’t speak to Harry at all as he put his trunk and owl in the backseat of the car with him.
Once she pulled up, he pulled his stuff out of the car. “Uh, thanks for driving me.” Harry begrudgingly thanked Petunia. She just grunted and pulled away, leaving Harry there alone. Harry glanced around, wondering how exactly to find the platform, since it wasn’t exactly a conventional number. Harry just followed the number of the platforms, and sure enough, there were only platforms nine and ten, no in between. Though it was pretty obvious there was some sort of magic covering an entrance, Harry had no idea how to get through.
His thought was cut off by hearing someone saying some familiar words somewhere behind him. “So many muggles here today, of course-” Harry swung his gaze around and searched the platform, and his eyes locked on a group of red-haired people, a woman and five children. Harry watched with growing shock as he realized, one by one, each boy was walking straight through stone. It did make sense to Harry then that the entrance to the real platform would be covered by illusion magic, or the wall could even be functioning as a portal elsewhere, possibly some sort of pocket dimension.
Stopping himself from thinking about it anymore, he walked up to the woman uncertainly.
“Um, excuse me, do you know how to…get through? To the platform?” Harry questioned.
“Hello dear, is it your first time too?” Harry nodded at the woman. “It’s Ron’s first time, too. You just have to walk straight through the wall, and don’t slow down. If you’re too scared, you’ll run into it. You'd better go before Ron, now.” She smiled warmly at Harry, and he nodded and made uncertainly towards the wall. Not wanting to accidentally crash, he sped up to a brisk pace. Harry knew, logistically, he had just seen three other boys walk through and be fine, but there was still an irrational fear in his head about walking straight towards a wall with no intention of stopping. Closing his eyes at the last second, Harry walked straight through the wall. Blinking his eyes open and quickly moving out of the way in case the other boy came crashing through, Harry assessed the other side. There were dozens of families all standing around, hugging children goodbye who had suitcases and trunks, such as he did.
Harry moved into the train, passing dozens of compartments with kids of all different ages. He settled in an empty compartment at the end of the train, and just as he was contemplating how to get his trunk up above his head, two people came to his rescue.
“Need a hand there?” Two identical twins with red hair grinned at him, and Harry smiled back. “If you don’t mind.” With the help of both twins, they successfully got his trunk above him safely.
“Thanks a bunch.” Harry sighed.
One of the twins was looking at him oddly. “Is that- Are you…” Harry realized he had been looking at his scar. One twin turned to look at the other. “He is.”
“Are you?” The other twin continued, thoroughly confusing Harry.
“Am I…?” Harry prompted.
“Harry Potter?” The twins said in perfect unison.
Harry blinked. “Oh, him. Well, yeah.”
Both twins stared at him, and it was starting to creep him out. Thankfully, their mother called to them, and the twins left the compartment. Harry settled down in his seat, not wanting to eavesdrop on the bickering family he could hear outside. Grabbing a book from the smaller, cross-body messenger bag he brought, Harry continued to read until a face popped into view.
Ron waved at him and motioned to the other free seats. “Anyone sitting there? The rest of the train is full.” Harry shook his head, and Ron sat across from Harry.
“Hey, Ron.” One of the Weasley twins greeted their younger brother. How anyone could keep them separate was a mystery, though Harry supposed that he’d only seen them once or twice. “We’re going to go see the wicked tarantula that Lee Jordan’s got.” He turned to Harry. “Did we introduce ourselves? We’re Fred and George Weasley.” The twins waved, then snickered at each other and retreated to where they came.
“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron didn’t look like he could stop himself from asking.
“Um, yeah.” Harry was still unused to people knowing his name.
“Honestly, I thought Fred and George were pulling a prank, but you also have the…” Ron motioned to Harry’s scar. “So, that’s that you-know-who did…” Ron trailed off.
“Yeah, but I can’t remember any of it.” Harry was quite keen on changing the topic of the conversation. “Are your whole family wizards?”
Ron thought for a second. “Er, yes, I think so. My mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we don’t really talk about him.”
Harry sighed. “I wish I grew up with magic siblings.”
“Oh yeah, I heard you lived with muggles. What are they like?”
“Horrible. Well, not all of them, just my aunt and her family. My cousin is really spoiled.”
“Then it just sounds like muggles and wizards aren’t all that different.” Ron thought for a second. “Because there are some wizards that are just right gits, but only some of them.”
Their conversation moved from muggles to Quidditch once Ron figured out Harry didn’t have any clue what Quidditch is, and Harry was happy to learn. The train took them out of London and into a long stretch of farm and grassland, and soon there was a clattering outside their door.
“Anything from the trolley, dears?” Harry bought a good amount of candy while Ron sat there looking embarrassed. Harry convinced Ron to trade his sandwich for sharing candy with Harry, and the sandwich quickly became forgotten on the side.
After a while of fooling around with Bertie’s Every Flavor Beans, a scared-looking boy opened the door nervously.
“Um, ‘scuse me, have you seen a toad at all?” Harry and Ron shook their heads. “Oh no! I keep losing him!”
“Do you need any help looking for him?” Harry suggested.
The boy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, would you?”
Ron waved at Harry. “You two have fun with that.”
“Thank you so much!” The boy looked nervous.
Harry closed the compartment door behind him. “Do you have any idea where he might be?”
The boy shook his head miserably. “I’ve looked all around the back half of the train, but some of the people on the train are scary. I didn’t want to ask them.”
“Well, I don’t have a problem asking anyone. Oh! I read about this spell, accio, and it can pull objects towards you. Since your frog is close to us, it wouldn’t harm it, so it’s safe. Wanna try?” Harry grinned at him.
“Um, sure. Are you sure it won’t harm Trevor, though?” The boy nervously fidgeted with his finger.
“Positive.” Harry took out his wand. Just as he was about to attempt the spell, a girl ran into them. “Oh, Sorry! I didn’t notice you there…are you doing magic?” Her eyes lit up. “Go on then, I’d like to see.”
Harry’s eyes flicked from the boy to the girl, then he shrugged. “Accio Trevor the Frog!” After a second, nothing happened, but then a frog came flying out of nowhere and smacked into Harry’s face. He thankfully caught it before it hit the ground and handed it to the boy.
“Oh, thanks so much! I can’t keep losing him, you’ll have to teach me that spell!” The boy shuffled nervously. “I’m Neville, by the way.”
“Harry.” Harry introduced himself.
Neville’s eyes flicked from Harry’s forehead to his eyes for a second, then he exclaimed, “Harry…Potter?” Harry nodded, and Neville’s eyes widened.
“Oh, are you? I read about you in a few different books, but I didn’t know you’d be coming to Hogwarts this year!” The girl who wanted to see Harry’s magic practically bounced up and down and offered her hand. “I’m Hermione Granger.”
“Nice to meet you then.” Harry shook her hand.
“You’d better go get changed soon, we’ll be at Hogwarts in no time.” Hermione bounced off, and Neville also waved goodbye to Harry. “Thanks a bunch, Harry. See you around.”
Harry set off back to his and Ron’s compartment when yet another voice stopped him.
“Is it true? They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s down this way. So it’s you, then?” Harry turned around to see who was speaking, and he immediately recognised the boy as the annoying one from Madam Malkin’s.
“It is.” Harry was a bit tired of people constantly asking about him, but he supposed he’d have to get used to it. Harry’s eyes flicked to the two other boys standing on either side of the annoying boy.
“Oh, they’re Crabbe and Goyle,” The boy pointed to each of them. “And my name’s Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”
“Hello. I suppose you already know who I am.” Harry was a bit reluctant to continue talking to him, because of the horrible things he was saying last time they talked about blood status and muggles.
“I saw you with those two idiots earlier. The one who’s already lost his frog thrice, I’ll give it about three weeks before he drops out. And the muggleborn.” Draco sneered and held out his hand. “You don’t want to hang out with the wrong sort, Potter. I can help you with that.”
Harry frowned. “I think I can sort out who the wrong kind are myself, thanks.”
Draco pulled his hand back just as fast as he put it out. It looked like no one had ever turned him down before. “Careful, Potter. You should be more polite to me, or you won’t make it long here.” With that, Draco strode away, leaving Crabbe and Goyle to follow after him.
~
After that encounter, Harry quickly went back to his and Ron’s compartment and got dressed in his new robes. The train stopped shortly afterward, and a tall man grouped all the first years and herded them towards a lake. The water glimmered with light that came from a giant castle across the lake, and there was a long row of small boats at the edge.
“No more than four to a boat!” The tall man shouted to everyone. Harry and Ron climbed in, followed by Neville and Hermione. Neville waved shyly at Harry while the boats started moving on their own. Once they were across the lake and through a covering of draping leaves, the tall man knocked on a set of large doors. The doors creaked open on their own to reveal a stern-looking woman in emerald robes, who was introduced as Professor McGonagall. She waved them through the door, and Harry whispered to Neville while they walked.
“What do we have to do for the sorting ceremony? I read a book on Hogwarts, but it only vaguely mentioned some sort of ceremony.”
Neville fidgeted with his robe. “I’m not really sure, my Gran said something about a hat. I didn’t understand what she said at all.”
Ron leaned into their conversation. “My brothers told me it’s some sort of test and it hurts a lot, but I think he was only joking.”
Before they could discuss the topic anymore, Professor McGonagall lined them all up and led them into the great hall. Harry had never been to such a glamorous room before, and it was intriguing. Where the ceiling should have been was instead a cloudy and starry night sky, with candles floating above everyone’s heads. Harry supposed this was illusion magic, just as the entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters had been. There were four long tables, each seated with many students with different colored badges. On the other side of the room sat a long line of adults, who Harry assumed were the professors. He spied Professor Snape closer to one end of the table, and was startled to see the man was already staring at him. After a moment, though, the Professor turned away.
There was a hat on a stool that sat in front of all the tables, right next to where the first years were lined up. Everyone in the room was staring at it, and after a moment, it started singing. Harry was thoroughly perplexed as to why a dirty old hat would be singing a god-awful song, but nothing with magic made much sense anyway. It seemed that all they had to do was put on the hat and it would deduce what house to put you in.
Throughout the song, it described which traits went to which house. Griffindors were brave and chivalrous, Hufflepuffs were true and kind, Ravenclaws were full of wit and wanted to learn, and Slytherins were cunning and witty. The housing system already didn’t make much sense to Harry, though it is good to hang out with like-minded people, if you’re stuck with the same people all the time, you’ll never grow. At least, that was what Harry thought, because he’d seen the people who Dudley surrounded himself with; kids who wouldn’t question anything he said and just followed him. Plus, throughout his exposure to people with magic, most of them had told him that everyone in Slytherin is no good. Well, yeah, Harry thought, you’re going to turn out no good if you’re grouped with people and ridiculed based on what group some dirty hat told you you needed to be in.
Harry must have spaced out, because the next name called was “Potter, Harry.” There was muttering all over the great hall, questioning the name called, and gasps of shock. Harry tried to ignore all this and thankfully sat down on the stool without tripping over anything. The hat was placed on his head, and he immediately heard the voice in his head.
"Hmm, this is very difficult. Much courage, not a bad mind, and a thirst to prove yourself. Where shall I put you?" Harry himself didn’t quite know.
"I don’t think anyone could have only traits for one house," Harry countered. "I mean, no one is devoid of smarts or courage. So why do you get to decide where to put us?"
"Ah, we have a thinker on our hands!" The hat exclaimed. "It’s true, you kids are ever changing. But the houses help you form skills you might need later in life, eh? Speaking of which, Slytherin would help you grow to greatness and gain all the skills you need. You’ll find true friends in Slytherin, ones that will have your back through everything. You’d better go to SLYTHERIN!” The hat shouted the last word out to the great hall, and everything suddenly went very silent. Harry’s thoughts were racing a mile a minute, but he quickly went and sat down at the Slytherin table with the other first years. He ignored the ecstatic and confused shout of “We got Potter!” from down the table, and he didn’t dare glance up to the head table.
While the rest of the first year was getting sorted, Harry thought through what had just happened. This should have been the worst possible outcome, but Harry was trying to be optimistic. Sure, everyone he’d talked to told him Slytherin was evil, except for Malfoy, and he wasn’t exactly pleasant. No one from Gryffindor would dare speak to him, like Neville and the others he met on the train. Still, the sorting hat had told Harry he would find true friends here in Slytherin, and Harry was curious who those would be. He’d been kinda put off by the people in Slytherin so far, like Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.
After Harry heard Ron be sorted into Gryffindor, Headmaster Dumbledore stood up and addressed the students. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! I’d like to say a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you.” He promptly sat down, and food appeared right in front of him on plates piled high. Everyone started to chatter, and Harry’s attention was pulled to the girl sitting across from him.
“Are you really Harry Potter?” A girl with straight black hair and intense eyes locked onto him as she leaned across the table.
“Yep.” Harry tried to match her intense stare, and failed.
“Blimey. I wasn’t expecting you, of all people, to be sorted into Slytherin.” A pale boy with curly brown hair, a few seats down, was also staring at him.
“Believe me, I wasn’t expecting to either,” Harry grumbled, picking some food onto his plate.
“Oh, heard from everyone that all Slytherins are evil, have you?” Malfoy sneered at his plate.
Harry adopted a similar face to Malfoy. “Well, yeah. Also, you were kind of a prick on the train.”
The girl who had been staring at him intensely grinned and threw her arm around Malfoy’s shoulders. “Ignore Draco, he’s just like that. I’m Pansy.”
“Well, we’re all going to be stuck together for the next seven years. If the sorting hat put you in Slytherin, it surely had an idea as to why.” The boy sitting on the other side of him smirked. “Blaise.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I have to see his pale face every morning for the next seven years. I’m going to get blinded.” The curly-haired boy nodded to Malfoy, and Pansy burst into laughter. “And I’m Theodore Nott, just call me Theo.”
The rest of the meal passed like that, small talk and condescending jokes passed around the group. There were three Slytherin girls other than Pansy that occasionally threw a thought into their conversation, but other than that, they talked with each other. There were also Crabbe and Goyle, who didn’t say much. When questioned, Harry got the response that Crabbe mainly spoke Gaeilge, and although he was somewhat fluent in English, he and Goyle liked to converse in Gaeilge. Harry also learned that Malfoy, Pansy, Theo, Crabbe, and Goyle already knew each other through their parents.
After dinner was over, Dumbledore made a few more notices, such as pointing out the places they shouldn’t go unless they want to die a painful death. Spectacular. He then led them in the school song, which had some horrible lyrics, if Harry was one to speak. Students started to stand up and leave the hall, led by a Head Boy or Girl or Prefect. A girl with long, brown hair and a pleasant smile led the first years out, and Harry followed Theo in their line. He tried to catch Ron’s eye on the way out, but he didn’t even look in Harry’s direction.
The Slytherin dorms were located in the dungeons, behind a slightly indented part of the wall. The password changes every few months, according to the girl leading them, but for now, it’s Aspiration. Once everyone was in the common room, the rest of the years dispersed, but the girl leading them stopped the first years.
“Hello! I’m the Head Girl for this year, Irene Vixen. Elliot, the Head Boy, and I will be giving you a small tour and rundown of the rules here.” A boy with a mop of curly black hair joined them after a moment, and he introduced himself as Elliot Harwood. “This is the Slytherin common room, but each year has its own, smaller common room.” Leading off the large circular room were seven doors spread out throughout the opposite walls. The one on the far left is the one that Irene and Elliot led them to, and inside was a smaller version of the Common room, without the moving portraits looking down on them. There was a small fireplace, and three doors inside this room. Harry felt more and more like the Slytherin House was a clown car.
“This is the First year’s common room, and on the left are the girls’ dorm and on the right are the boys’ dorm. The door there is the bathroom.” Elliot flicked his hand off to the side.
“Now!” Irene clapped her hands. “There are a few rules you should take into account now that you’re in Slytherin. These aren’t official, just some things that we’ve found make our house run efficiently and safely. One: always stick up for your fellow Slytherins. No matter if you’re friends or you hate each other’s guts, if someone is picking on them, you defend them. If you don’t think you can handle the situation, find a Prefect or Professor Snape. He’s our Head of House.”
“The second rule: Don’t leave each other alone in the halls. It’s safer to walk in groups or pairs when you’re not with your class. Other houses like to pick on lone Slytherins, especially younger ones.” Elliot grimaced slightly.
“The third unofficial rule: If someone is messing with you, calling you names, or leaving traps in the halls, it’s fair game to get them back. Telling a Prefect or the Professor is good, but if you and your housemates have it under control, you’re allowed to deal with it yourself.” Irene winked. “Just don’t get caught.”
“Well, that’s all we have! If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to ask us!” Elliot and Irene left through the door, and an awkward silence settled for a second.
The one to break the silence was Blaise, who said something about ‘stupid roommates’ and went to check out their dorm. The five other boys followed him, and the girls headed towards their room. Inside the boys' dorm were six beds, with a desk and dresser next to each. There was a small chest at the foot of each bed, and thick green curtains that could be pulled around the bed. Harry’s trunk lay on the bed closest to the door on the right, and each boy found their stuff and went about their nightly routine. Draco shoved past them all and made a beeline for the bathroom, and Theo scoffed and said it would be at least thirty minutes before any of them could use it. Harry used this time to continue reading one of the books that interested him, Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling. By the time all six boys and four girls had gotten ready for bed, it was probably way later than they should have stayed up. Seems like they needed to lay out a bathroom schedule.
Notes:
Let me know if you like it/ any constructive criticism/ ideas for me by commenting!!
Chapter 2: Sisyphean Task: Befriending Annoying People
Notes:
No Trigger Warnings! (There probably won't be many, I'm just being cautious lol)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning, Harry woke up sure that being sorted into Slytherin was just a bad dream.
It was not.
Harry was left with a distinct bad feeling from a dream he couldn’t remember, and this bad feeling was only heightened when the Slytherin first years as a whole were almost late for breakfast because of Malfoy hogging the bathroom again.
Like Harry said, they were in dire need of a bathroom schedule.
The whole day, Harry tried to ignore the whispers that followed him everywhere all the time. People even crowded outside his classroom doors to see him, although most people left once they realized the Slytherins were moving together. The castle was already confusing in itself, not even taking into account that most of the staircases had a sense of humor that mainly focused on making kids late to class.
Harry’s favorite class through the first week was transfiguration, mainly because Professor McGonagall exuded an air of no-nonsense the whole time, so Blaise couldn’t continue subtly joking with him and distracting him. Herbology was odd, History of Magic was boring, and Charms was fun. Defense Against the Dark Arts was a complete joke, and even Harry, who hadn’t grown up knowing about magic at all, knew this. Quirrel was a coward, that was obvious, and Theo and Tracey made bets on what he kept under his turban. Despite being wary of the Slytherins, and frankly still not trusting them, Harry could joke around with Blaise and Theo with ease and indulge Pansy and Daphne in gossip.
On Friday morning, Draco sighed as he whipped out the neat schedule of their classes. Harry’s was crumpled somewhere in one of the pockets inside his outer cloak.
“What do we have today?” Harry asked.
“Double potions with the Gryffindors.” Draco sneered. “I’d like to see that toad boy brew a potion, I bet he’s going to blow up our whole classroom.”
“His name is Neville.” Harry glared at Draco. “And he hasn’t done anything to you, so stop pissing about him like he’s wronged you in some horrible fashion.”
Theo just sighed. “Harry… how did you even get sorted into this house?”
Harry had no answer for him.
~
The potions class was horrible. The Gryffindors and Slytherins sent each other glares the entire time, and even though Professor Snape had taken him shopping begrudgingly before term, the man didn’t seem to like him at all. He called Harry a celebrity, in his drawl, while Blaise kicked Harry under the desk.
“You’re all here to learn the subtle and exact art of potion making,” Snape’s voice was cold. “There will be little wand waving in this class. I doubt many of you will truly understand the nuance of this art, unless you aren’t as big a bunch of idiots as I usually teach.” Snape’s eyes scanned the class briefly, and they landed on Harry for a second. With a sinking feeling, Harry knew that Snape was about to throw some questions at him.
“Potter.” Snape suddenly raised his tone. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel into an infusion of wormwood?”
“The Draught of Living Death, sir?”
“Is that a question or an answer, Potter?” Snape narrowed his eyes slightly. “Where would you look if I told you to find me a Beozar?”
“The stomach of a goat,” Harry answered calmly.
Snape nodded ever so slightly, then appraised him. “Ten points to Slytherin for reading up on your potions books this summer. The same could not be said for some of you,” Snape glared pointedly at Ron and Dean, who were messing around in one of the back rows. “Weasley, Thomas. Five points from Gryffindor for horseplay. Well, why aren’t you taking notes? Mister Potter is already miles ahead of both of you.” Harry winced sympathetically, but Ron ignored him.
Snape went on to pair up students and explained how to brew a simple potion to cure boils. Harry was paired up with Blaise, while Pansy and Draco worked together behind them. Snape showed his obvious favoritism by complimenting Draco, and only Draco. Harry and Blaise did pretty well, while Neville and Seamus managed to turn their cauldron into a pile of melted green something. The concoction had exploded all over Neville, who had to be sent to the hospital wing. The class ended with Blaise laughing at the holes that had sprung up on Harry’s shoes because of Neville and Seamus’s escaped potion.
“It’s alright,” Pansy dismissed Harry’s dismay. “Those awful Muggle shoes were hideous anyway. I’ll buy you a better pair for Yule.”
“But that’s months away. You can’t expect me to function with holes in my shoes for that long!” Harry’s complaints were cut off as Theo cast a quick "Repairo!", and Pansy was back to glaring at the offending items.
~
As much as Harry was trying to befriend the Slytherins, he never could see eye to eye with Malfoy. Sure, they could banter and stick half-joking jabs at each other over Transfiguration homework, but it was a sore spot with Harry when he was reminded what Draco thought about blood purity. Draco thought that everyone he talked to was below him, and he picked quarrels with kids for no reason. He’s always snickering at someone or throwing an insult in the hallway, and it was starting to get on Harry’s nerves. He’s always hated bullying, but it was a lot harder to stop when multiple of your classmates that you spent all your time together with were doing the bullying. Tracey, Blaise, Daphne, and Theo were normally tame and would only threaten people back, but the rest were pricks to anyone not in Slytherin.
Harry was still thinking about how he would go about telling them to piss off when the next week came around. At breakfast, Harry, Draco, Vince, and Greg were walking past the Gryffindor table to sit down for breakfast when he heard Neville talking.
“It’s a Remembrall! My gran must have sent it to me, because I’m always forgetting things.”
Draco had an impish smirk on his face, and before Harry knew what that meant, he had snatched the ball from Neville’s fingers. Ron stood up with his face turning red and a furious expression on his face. Before Ron could say anything, however, Harry glared at Draco.
“Malfoy! Stop being a dick!” Harry swiped the Remembrall and gave it back to Neville. “Sorry about him.” Harry grabbed Draco’s wrist and pulled him away before anyone could say anything else. He felt the stare of a few Gryffindors on him, but he didn’t turn around until they got back to their table. “Malfoy, seriously, why do you feel the need to pick on everyone you see? They’re going to gain reasons to hate you, and you’ll just lose us house points.”
Draco scoffed. “They already hate us. Emphasis on us, Potter, just because you think you’re so high and mighty, you’re still a Slytherin. They judge us before they get to know us, so we have to be ready to strike back.”
“Daphne! They’re at it again,” Blaise whined. He was promptly ignored.
“Well then, why don’t you try to change that? If you keep bullying every Gryffindor you lay eyes on, their ideas of us will be solidified. You’re not the only guy in the world, so stop acting like it.” Harry continued, oblivious to Blaise’s whining.
“Look, Harry.” Pansy cut off their argument. “Let’s talk about this later, if you like, but not in the bloody Great Hall,” She huffed.
Harry sighed. “Sorry. But this discussion is not over.”
Harry saw that Neville was still looking at him across the hall.
Flying class was… interesting, to say the least. On one hand, Harry was excited to try to fly a broom, and it seemed fun. However, before anyone else could do any more than hover over the ground, Neville had lost control and flown up, then fallen on his wrist. Madam Hooch took him to the infirmary and demanded that no one move even a muscle. Draco, however, burst into laughter with Vince and Greg.
“Did you see him, the great lump?” Draco laughed. It wasn’t helping that Pansy and Millicent joined in.
“Shut up, Malfoy.” Parvati Patil snapped, and Harry was grateful to her.
“Oh, sticking up for Longbottom? Didn’t think he was your type.” Pansy cackled.
“Look, it’s that stupid thing his gran sent him.” Draco picked up the Remembrall that Neville must have dropped.
Harry grabbed Draco’s wrist, despite Blaise half attempting to stop him. “Malfoy. Leave it alone.”
“Hah! What are you going to do, Potter? You’re about as useless as that snivelling wimp! You’re
going to end up like your parents if you stick up for losers like that; dead, forgotten, and stupid.” Draco crowed. “I think I’ll leave this up a tree for Longbottom to find.”
Draco hopped on his broom, but Harry was just as fast to follow. “Harry! Draco!” Theo hissed. “What are you doing?”
They both ignored the voice of reason, and so Harry chased Draco up and around on his broom. Draco tossed the Remembrall, and Harry caught it near the ground, and a voice stopped them from escalating further.
“POTTER! MALFOY! WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Professor McGonagall had stormed out, her face stormy. “BOTH OF YOU! DOWN HERE AT ONCE!” The two boys got off the brooms rather sheepishly, and before Harry followed the professor, he handed the Remembrall to the closest Gryffindor, Seamus.
“See that Neville gets that, would you? Don’t worry, I’ll kill Malfoy later for that.” Harry was only half joking at that last part, and he promptly left following Draco.
~
That night in Slytherin’s First Year Dorms, all the First-Years sat in a slightly awkward circle. Harry and Draco sat opposite each other, with everyone else crammed onto either a couch or a chair. McGonagall had assigned both of them detention for the rest of the week with Filch, who was delighted at making the two kids clean up whatever prank the Weasley twins pulled next. That night, it was scrubbing the first-floor boys’ bathroom clean of some purple goo.
“Right, Harry, what did you want to talk about?” Millicent asked, although they all knew what it was about. Harry had called a meeting of their year to talk about something ‘crucial’.
“You know. How some of you are acting like dicks and pushing people around. I won’t stand for it.” Harry avoided eye contact with Draco. “You can be rude back if they start it, but you can’t just laugh at people and steal their stuff and mock them.”
“I-” Draco started, but Harry cut him off.
“And you can’t just say the excuses you’ve been using. I know we don’t have such a good reputation, but you’re just proving it true by being truly horrible. Haven’t you ever heard of the golden rule?”
“Huh?” Pansy scrunched her eyebrows.
“You know, ‘treat others how you want to be treated’, ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you’, that type.” When Harry got pretty much blank stares back, he sighed. “Look, I’m not asking you to suddenly act like different people. Just, you know, keep your rudeness to yourself. It’s making it incredibly hard to be friends with you when you just go around demanding things and mocking people.”
“Sorry,” Vince and Greg muttered at practically the same time, both sounding a bit remorseful.
“Yeah.” Pansy crossed her arms. “Longbottom is a snivelling wimp, but we did go… pretty intense today. I’ll make an effort not to mock him as much.” She glared at Draco. “But someone said some pretty horrible things to Harry today, too. That was a low blow, Draco.”
Draco didn’t say anything at first, but then he muttered, “Yeah. Won’t bully Longbottom anymore.”
“Try not to say anything to the other Gryffindors either, unless they deserve it.” Harry sighed. “But fine. Thanks for hearing me out.”
~
The next day at breakfast, a few of the Gryffindor first-years noticed that the Slytherin first-years were more subdued than usual, with the sole exception of Harry still looking pissed off. Draco looked thoughtful, if not deflated. As they were exiting the Great Hall, Neville caught up to Harry.
“Um, I just wanted to say thanks!” Neville looked extremely nervous, but Harry smiled widely.
“No problem!” Harry lowered his voice. “Between you and me, they won’t try to bother you as much anymore. I chewed them out last night.” Blaise then pulled Harry away, telling him they’d be late for Transfiguration.
After dinner that day, Harry and Draco made their way to Filch’s office for another day of detention. The whole time, he and Draco were set to scrub the rest of the boys’ bathroom clean, plus the surrounding hallway. There was still purple goo everywhere, only now it was slightly crusted over. Harry would have some choice words with the Weasley twins after this, if they were still willing to speak with him.
Halfway through their detentions, two upperclassmen from Gryffindor passed by. “Tch. Look, a little snake is skulking around the toilets. Waiting for someone to pass by so you can curse them?”
“Uh, no-” Harry was cut off by the other one.
“Oh, this is a surprise! Harry Potter, the boy who betrayed his parents and joined the Death Eaters’ house.” The other boy sneered. “Having fun prancing around with purebloods yet?”
“Let’s give him a taste of their own medicine.” Harry internally panicked. Were they really going to start cursing him in the middle of the hallway? Draco was on the other side of their designated cleaning area, who knows if he even knew what was going on.
“Nasus sanguinis!” The jinx that hit Harry made your nose bleed, and he felt blood running down his chin. Harry had scrabbled for his wand, but couldn’t seem to locate it in his uniform.
“Flipendo!” The two upperclassmen hit the wall next to him, and Harry’s eyes widened. Behind the two struggling boys was a furious Draco Malfoy, who kicked past the flailing legs of one of them and approached Harry. “Are you alright?” Draco looked concerned. Harry just nodded and held his sleeve up to his nose.
Draco scoffed. “Locomotor Wibbly!” he turned back to Harry. “Jelly-legs jinx. They won’t get up for a while. C’mon, let’s go. Our detention just ended.” Draco pulled Harry by the other wrist swiftly back to the dungeons. Once they were a bit farther from the two boys, they stopped once again.
“Move your hand. I’m gonna fix your nose.” Draco took a deep breath and concentrated. His mouth pouted slightly as he cast “Episkey!”, and Harry’s nose stopped bleeding.
Harry sighed. “Thanks, Draco.” The other boy just nodded, and they made their way back to the common room. There were only a few people in the main room, but in the First-Year common room, some people were still up. Tracey and Millicent were doing homework on the side of the room, while Blaise and Pansy sat on opposite couches near the fireplace.
“Yikes! Harry, what happened?” Tracey dropped her homework onto the table and ran over.
“Stupid Gryffindors,” Draco muttered darkly, then pulled them both over to sit on one of the couches.
“I’m fine,” Harry added. “It was just a jinx.”
“Gryffindors?” Blaise perked up, narrowing his eyes.
“Upperclassmen, none that we know.” Harry waved away Tracey’s prodding hand on his face.
“Geez, Potter, it looks like someone just slammed your whole face into a wall!” Pansy motioned to his robes. “You’re gonna need to change out of those, it looks like you’re bleeding out. Oh, Merlin, your shoes are even more ratty now. They have blood all over them.”
“Just like you to focus on my clothes rather than my well-being, Pansy,” Harry smirked. “I’m honestly fine, though. Draco dealt with them. D’you think we should report them?”
“Oh, no. We’ll be getting them back soon for that anyway,” Millicent interjected darkly.
“...what does that mean? Please don’t murder them.” Harry pleaded.
Draco sighed. “We won’t kill them, Potter. No need to worry about your pretty little head. You should head to bed now, you lost a good bit of blood.”
Harry was shooed from the room, and the possible premeditated murder plan meeting, and he went straight to sleep.
~
The next day, the two Gryffindors who had threatened Harry stormed into the Great Hall at breakfast, with their hair dyed green and covered in small red welts.
Never mess with one Slytherin, or you’ll be messing with all of them.
~
The next few weeks sped by, filled with the rest of detention and Harry desperately trying to understand Potions. Harry asked Draco to teach him some jinxes, and Harry was a fast learner.
On Halloween night, Harry and his Slytherin friends were thrilled to spend the night in the Great Hall, joking around. It was Halloween night after all, and there was a jovial atmosphere in the hall. Harry overheard Lavender and Pavarti, two Gryffindors, talking about how Hermione was missing the feast and crying in the girls’ bathroom. Harry felt sympathetic for her, even though he hadn’t spoken to her since the train, and his fellow Slytherins thought she was stuck up and annoying; Harry thought she was nice.
The Hall was silent when Quirrel, the cowardly oaf, sprinted into the hall, just managing to pant out “Troll– in the dungeons– thought you ought to know,” then faint.
“Prefects, lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately,” Dumbledore announced.
Blaise turned to Harry with the most deadpan expression he’s seen, and muttered, “Oh yeah, where are we supposed to go then? Guess I’ll just die.”
Snape approached one of the Prefects, then nodded curly and strode away. The Prefect stood up, shouting, “Slytherin! Stay here and don’t go back to the dorms, they’re currently unaware of where the Troll is right now.”
Harry remembered what he’d heard Lavender and Parvati talking about, how Hermione was in the girls’ bathroom, how she wouldn’t know about the troll. “Hermione wasn’t at the feast; she wouldn’t know about the troll.” He expressed as much to his housemates.
Pansy narrowed her eyes. “And this is our problem because…?”
“Well, the bathroom is near where the troll was spotted! We can’t just let her be attacked.” Harry tapped his foot.
“We should just tell a Professor.” Tracey looked uncertain. “Except, um, that there aren’t any here right now.”
“There is no way I’m going to break a rule to save a muggleborn.” Draco sneered.
“Well, I am. Anyone want to go with me so I don’t die a horrible death?” Harry glanced around.
Daphne sighed. “Fine, I’ll go. But we have to slip out now with the last of Ravenclaw, or they won’t let us. And you’re doing my potions homework for the next three classes.”
She and Harry darted out of the Great Hall before anyone could even call out to them.
As the two made their way down the corridors to the girls’ bathroom, Daphne lamented Harry’s survival skills. “I mean, honestly, I’m just coming because I didn’t want you to die. I swear, you should have gone to Gryffindor.” Harry pulled Daphne behind a statue, and the two watched as Snape walked briskly past, heading away from the dungeon. “Strange,” Daphne continued once he was gone.
Arriving at the girls’ bathroom, there was a frightening sight. Hermione pushed herself up against the far wall, trembling. The troll was there, lurching menacingly towards her.
“Do you know any spells that would affect a troll?” Harry whispered furiously to Daphne.
“No!” snapped Daphne. “I mean, I know a hex that glues someone’s feet to the ground, but I don’t know any actual offensive spells!”
“Alright, I’ll distract it. You try that, and we’ll go from there!” Harry didn’t give Daphne a chance to argue, because he cast a small spell that sounded like a party popper, confetti and all. The troll turned around, distracted momentarily, and Hermione seemed to notice their presence.
“Colloshoo!” Daphne cast at the troll, and he was slowed. There was a bit of goo sticking its feet to the ground, but it didn’t stop moving.
“Know any more spells?” Daphne edged backwards.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” Hermione, still trembling, the troll’s bat levitated above its head and swung down, hard. The troll crashed to the side, demolishing what was left of the bathroom.
Harry edged around the downed troll and approached Hermione. “Are you alright? I heard someone say you didn’t know about the troll, so we came to find you.”
Hermione looked flabbergasted. “Um, yeah.” Her voice was a pitch higher than normal. “Thanks for finding me.”
Three teachers rounded the corner, led by Professor McGonagall. She took in the three dust-covered first years, and the fact that two were Slytherins and one was Gryffindor. “What were you thinking of?” Her fury was practically visible, or that could have been another cloud of dust from the destroyed bathrooms. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Granger, why aren’t you in the dormitory, and Potter and Greengrass, why did you leave the Great Hall?”
Harry was about to respond, maybe to beg for forgiveness or start arguing, he wasn’t sure, when Hermione interrupted him. “I’m so sorry, Professor! It was all my fault. I wanted to see the troll because I was curious, but Harry and Daphne overheard that I was missing and came to find me. I would have died if they hadn’t found me.”
Snape shot Harry a piercing look. He knew that Hermione was lying, but he didn’t say anything.
Professor McGonagall seemed to think this over. “Well, in that case… five points from Gryffindor for reckless behaviour, Miss Granger. Potter and Greengrass, five points each. Not many students could take out a troll.”
Harry was about to say that Hermione was the one who took it down, but Hermione, once again, cut him off. “I’m truly sorry, Professor.” Professor McGonagall nodded and dismissed them, saying that Slytherin was already on their way to their dorms, so that’s where Harry and Daphne should go.
Once out of earshot, Daphne turned to Hermione. “Granger, I didn’t know you could lie like that, to a teacher of all people. You definitely should have gone to Slytherin.”
Hermione blushed a bit. “Oh, it’s fine. Thank you again for coming to save me.”
Daphne elbowed Harry. “It was all his idea. Harry and his stupid lack of survival instincts.”
“Well, thanks, Harry. You really aren’t like the other Slytherins. No offense, Greengrass.” Hermione clarified.
“None taken. I wouldn’t have come to save you if Harry hadn’t dragged me to, anyway.” Daphne smiled.
Harry and Daphne parted with Hermione then, headed in different directions. Daphne sighed. “I hate to admit this, but Granger isn’t as bad as I thought she would be. I’m gonna need her to help me get down Wingardium Leviosa, though. She was brilliant at it.”
Notes:
I already have like five more chapters written, but I will be spacing them out because school starts in like a month :(
Chapter 3: I Can Predict the Future?! (Not Clickbait)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As they entered November, the homework they had only seemed to pile up. Snape and McGonagall didn’t pull any punches, even with the first-years.
“I’m going to study in the library, there are too many things that I have no idea what they could even begin to mean!” Harry stood up from his place in the first-year common room.
Theo stood up with him. “I’ll go with you. I have to find a book for Herbology, anyway.”
Harry and Theo made their way to the library, finding a small nook in the back where no one went. The books all around them were about divination, which is probably why nobody was back this way.
“I’m seriously convinced that Quirrel’s trying to either fail me or kill me,” Harry muttered as he sank into a chair at the small round table. “Every time I’m in his class, I get a splitting headache and can’t focus.”
“Harry, how is that Quirrel’s fault?” Theo picked up a book from the stack he’d grabbed on their way through the labyrinth of the library and started skimming through it.
Harry grunted noncommittally. Although he hadn't mentioned it all that much, Harry thought something was off about Quirrel. If not anything evil, then just the fact that they hired such a coward for the spot of defense in the first place.
About ten minutes into their study session, someone approached their table hesitantly. “Um, hey, Harry.” Neville stood about a foot from the table, eyes flicking from Harry to Theo, looking ready to bolt if necessary. “Could I, um, sit with you guys?”
“Sure!” Harry glanced at Theo, but thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind Neville’s presence at all. “Why’d you want to sit with us, not that I mind. I’m just curious.”
Neville sat down in the chair next to Harry, across from Theo. “It’s kind of embarrassing…” He set his book bag down on the table. “I’m not really friends with anyone in Gryffindor. I mean, they’re not mean, but none of them can understand why I’m in Gryffindor. Not like I’d know, anyhow. I begged the hat to put me in Hufflepuff.”
“That sucks,” Harry commiserated. “No one outside of Slytherin understands why I’m in Slytherin, but then again, they don’t care about the reasons.”
“Not like we know either,” Theo muttered, not looking up from his book on Herbology. “You’re always running headfirst into situations like a Gryffindor.”
“I guess the hat knows what it’s doing, even if we don’t.” Harry changed the subject. “Anyway, what homework are you working on? Or did you just come down to chill? I’m afraid Theo and I are neck deep into Herbology, and we don’t understand any of it.”
Neville’s mood brightened considerably. “Herbology? I can help with that!”
Harry and Theo walked out of the library with their homework done, and Theo came out with a grudging respect for Neville Longbottom.
~
The Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch match had built up tensions between the two houses more than normal. Though Harry still had to finish his History of Magic essay for Binns, Draco and Blaise were dragging him out to see the match.
“It’s not our fault that you decided to slack off last night instead of finishing your homework!” Draco dragged him out of the Great Hall by the wrist, and Harry was still clutching his homework in his hand.
“I wasn’t slacking off, I was researching!” Harry responded.
“Researching what, exactly?” Pansy raised an eyebrow.
“All the reasons that Quirrel is a pain, mentally and physically!” Harry retorted.
Pansy sighed. “Your insistence that he’s out to get you is far-fetched, and you know it.”
“I have a right to be skeptical,” Harry grumbled, but his friends ignored him.
Despite Harry's bemoanings, he was intrigued to see the match between the two houses. Quidditch seemed like a fun game to play, even though the entire premise of the game was corrupted. Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Pansy sat down near the back edge of the stands, and Harry was a bit irritated to see Snape sitting in proximity to them. He was even more irritated when he spied Quirrel a few seats down from Snape.
The game was tied- Slytherin and Gryffindor seemed to be evenly matched. The Gryffindors seemed to be more skilled with their playing, but the Slytherins played rough. About halfway through the game, though, Harry leaned back to stretch, and he felt a sudden force push him backwards. It was odd because there wasn’t any wind, and it sure wasn’t a person, but he had no time to contemplate. Because they had decided to sit at the back of one of the stand sections, the unknown force toppled him backwards.
He exclaimed a bit, but Blaise caught his arm just in time. “What-” Blaise started, but he couldn’t ask what happened before he was being tugged over the side, too. It wasn’t a natural force, that’s for sure, but whoever or whatever it was was trying to topple him off the stands. After a few more seconds of struggling against the invisible force, with Blaise clutching the side of the stands with an iron vice, the pressure alleviated. Harry, who had almost fully fallen off the stands, was almost levitated back up to his spot.
“What was that?” Pansy exclaimed. “Did you just try to throw yourself off the side, or what?” She thankfully lowered her voice, and only a few people glanced over.
“No! Something just pushed me, and Blaise saved me.” Harry tried to explain what had just happened. He was cut off by Snape approaching their group.
“Mister Potter, would you like to explain what just happened?” Snape crossed his arms.
“Um, I don’t… know?” Harry shrugged his shoulders helplessly.
Snape sighed. “Follow me, we’ll talk in a less crowded area. Your friends may follow if they wish.” Snape made his way through the throng of students, and Harry, followed by Blaise, Pansy, Draco, and Theo, followed him.
Harry was thankful that Snape had led them down from the stands; Harry didn’t think he could stand being up there after what happened. The way Blaise’s hands were shaking slightly, he was just as scared as Harry felt at almost falling off the back of the stands.
Once they were a good way away from the pitch, Snape turned to the trail of Slytherins following him. “I’ll ask again- what was that?”
“Um, I don’t know. I was sitting there one minute, and the next it felt like some force was pushing me backwards. Like I told my friends, if Blaise hadn’t grabbed me, I’d have fallen.”
“It’s true, professor.” Blaise nodded. “Harry didn’t fall; it felt like something was pushing him backwards. It almost dragged me off as well.”
Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do believe both of you. I cast a counter spell and slightly levitated you back to your seat. I don’t know who it could have been, but someone cast a spell to push you backwards. Return to the game, if you wish, but I’d advise you to watch your back, Mr. Potter.” Snape swept away, his cloak billowing out behind him.
“Do you think he has a charm that makes his cloak float like that?” Harry asked when Snape was out of earshot.
“Harry! Someone just tried to kill you, stop joking around!” Pansy slapped his arm.
Harry crossed his arms. “I know. But we have no idea who it could have possibly been! They had to have been staring at me the whole time, and I doubt any of you saw. So there’s not much we can do.”
“I hate to say this…” Draco did, in fact, not look sorry whatsoever. “But Quirrel was staring at Harry. It could have been anyone, but I noticed him.”
“Are you saying that the whole time that Harry has been muttering about Quirrel wanting to kill him, he’s been right?” Theo scrunched his eyebrows.
“We don’t know anything! Just– keep an eye out, I guess.” Harry turned. “I’m heading back to the castle. There’s no way I’m going back up there after that.” The rest of his friends agreed to follow him back, and they didn’t see Gryffindor win the Quidditch match. For once, Draco wasn’t muttering about stupid Gryffindors for the rest of the day, probably occupied thinking about Quirrel.
The next day, Harry and his friends were walking to lunch when three Gryffindors approached. Draco sneered, but didn’t say anything. Blaise just sighed.
“Harry! We saw what happened at the Quidditch match yesterday, from across the stands. Are you, uh, okay?” Hermione, followed by Neville and an uncomfortable-looking Ron, stopped in front of Harry.
“You saw that? Um, it’s kind of a weird story, so....” Harry motioned to a side alcove.
Ron and Neville looked uncomfortable, probably with the number of Slytherins, so Pansy scoffed. “Yeah, you guys can talk all you want. Since Theo and I have no stake in this, we’re going to lunch.” Theo just shot finger guns at Harry, confusing nearly everyone else.
In the alcove, there was no one in hearing range to interrupt them. “It’s a bizarre story. We currently have several running theories, but no proof.”
“Proof of what, exactly?” Hermione questioned.
Harry explained what happened in the stands: Blaise catching Harry, Quirrel staring at him, and Snape saving him from falling, then cryptically warning him to watch his back.
“Our running theory is that Quirrel is an undercover vampire hunter, and he carries loads of garlic under his turban,” Blaise looked thoughtful.
“Well, are you sure it wasn’t Snape?” Hermione questioned. “He has been acting awfully suspicious. He just happened to save you right before you fell. Plus, didn’t you say he had been walking away from the dungeons when the troll was here?”
Harry shrugged. “Well, yeah, but it wasn’t like he was going anywhere secret. He was heading up towards the third-floor corridor, maybe there was a disturbance around there.”
Hermione drew in a breath sharply. “The third floor corridor?”
“Well, yeah, the stairs we saw him go up lead directly up there.”
“A while ago, we were running from Filch after curfew, but that’s not important.” Hermione waved Harry’s questions away. “We hid in the room in that corridor, and in the room was a Cerberus. A three-headed dog. It was guarding a trapdoor in the floor!”
Draco snorted. “That doesn’t mean it’s Snape at all. We don’t know for sure if he was even going to that corridor; he was just going in that general direction.”
“That’s more evidence than you have that Quirrel is behind it. Didn’t you say that you thought he was a vampire hunter, or something?” Ron grumbled.
“We have more evidence.” Hermione cut Ron off. “Or more intel, anyway. It doesn’t relate to Snape directly. But we were talking to Hagrid about this, and he claimed that Snape is innocent, too. He also said that he was the one who ordered the Cerberus, or Fluffy, as he calls it. He also told us not to worry about what it’s guarding, because it’s between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel.”
“Hermione! You’re really spilling all the secrets to the Slytherins?” Ron hissed at her.
“Oh, shut it, Ron. Harry has every right to know this, too.” Hermione waved him off.
“Nicholas Flamel, eh? We’ll have to do some digging, it seems.” Blaise stroked his chin. “And by we, I mean you guys. I’ll be busy beating Theo in chess.”
Harry sighed. “Well, thanks a bunch, Hermione. I’ll look into it.”
“Us too.” Hermione agreed quickly. “Tell us if you learn anything, and we’ll inform you.”
“Can we eat lunch now? I’m starving…” Ron whined to Hermione.
“Oh, be quiet. We’re going now.” Hermione huffed, and they split up to go to their respective tables.
~
In the next month, Harry and Draco searched the library for the name Nicholas Flamel with little luck. None of the others in Slytherin seemed to be pressed to help them, but occasionally Pansy or Daphne would join them. Unfortunately, they found nothing of use.
The winter holidays were coming around, and Harry couldn’t wait for their break, even though he wished he didn’t have to stay at school for the holidays. Of course, he’d rather stay at Hogwarts than the Dursleys, but still. The dungeons were frigid, and although there were warming charms cast around their dormitory, the hallways and classrooms down there were unbearable. Harry’s hand had once shaken so much during Potions that he spilled half a bottle of ginger root into his potion, blowing up the station almost immediately. Blaise had had the judgment to duck and pull Harry with him, but it had earned him a point taken from Slytherin and detention. Snape didn’t take many points from Harry due to his biases, but it didn’t stop him from assigning all the detentions he could possibly cram into Harry’s schedule. Slytherin had quickly earned that point back, though, because Blaise earned five for thinking quickly and ‘protecting an incompetent classmate’.
The night before they were allowed to leave for the holidays, all of the first-years sat in their common room together.
“So, what are you all doing over the holidays? Any of you staying for break?” Harry questioned, and everyone clumped near the fireplace.
“Father and mother are taking me to visit distant families in France,” Draco drawled. “I’ve only visited once or twice; they’re a boring lot.”
“I’m going home to spend time with my mother,” Blaise sighed. “I love her, but she can be a bit much.”
“Me too. I mean, going home to see my father.” Theo added.
“I’m going home to see my family,” Daphne nodded. “My sister will want to hear all about Hogwarts.”
“I’m going, as well.” Pansy checked her nails.
“I’m visiting my grandmother.” Millient chimed in.
“I’m going home for the holidays. Vince is going to visit family in Ireland.” Greg answered, and Vince nodded.
Tracey glanced sympathetically at Harry. “Sorry, I’m going home as well. Looks like you’ll be here all by yourself.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re one of the only Slytherins staying. There are a few upperclassmen, but none that I really know.” Draco informed Harry. “The Weasleys are staying, though. I know you’ll hang around them, for whatever reason. I find them unpleasant.” Draco sniffed.
“Well, maybe that’s because whenever you talk to them, you’re a stuck-up prick,” Harry snapped back with little fire. It was more friendly banter than anything. “I’ll be careful, yeah yeah. Stay in touch over the break, though.”
The next day, Harry waved his friends off from the castle and meandered back inside. There wasn’t much he could think of doing, and besides, he didn’t quite want to continue his search for Nicholas Flamel again just yet.
“Hey Harry!” The Weasley twins bounded up to him, one on either side. “Staying for the holidays, Mr. Slytherin?”
“Well, yeah.” Harry smiled at them.
“We were wondering-” One twin started.
“If you wanted to join us-”
“In our Chess tournament!”
“It’s actually only us and-”
“Ronnie, but be thought-”
“You might want to join.” Harry just stared at the twins, whipping his head around to listen to whichever was speaking.
“I will, if you stop talking like that. You’re giving me a migraine.” Harry smiled. “I’m horrible at wizarding chess, though.”
“That’s alright!” The twins led Harry to the Great Hall, where a few other students sat scattered around.
“Do you know how many people stayed for the holidays?” Harry questioned.
Pretty sure only a dozen or so, maybe even less.” One twin commented. “Us, Ronnie, Percy, and Neville, are the only ones staying in Gryffindor. You know Neville, right?”
“Plus you, and a few in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.” The other twin finished.
It wasn’t lunch yet, so none of the staff were in the Great Hall. Harry spotted Ron sitting at the Gryffindor table and waved. Ron gave him a perplexed look as the twins sat down, then motioned for Harry to sit next to him.
“What’s Harry doing here?” Ron asked. Apparently, he still wasn’t over the house rivalries.
“He agreed to play chess with us. Don’t you want more competition, Ron?”
“I’m probably not considered competition. I’m horrible at the game.” Harry dismissed the Twins’ claims.
Ron smiled slightly. “Well, I’ll see about that.”
All in all, Ron beat Harry eight times, and each twin beat him twice. At some point, Harry asked which twin was which, but he couldn’t be sure if they lied at all.
They played up until lunch, at which the Weasley twins invited him to eat lunch with them, seeing as he was already sitting at their table. Neville joined them for lunch, and Percy Weasley sat at the opposite end of the table all alone. Fred and George spent the majority of lunch scheming over pranks that they were going to pull once school resumed, and Harry gave them a few good ideas. Even Neville suggested a type of plant that would make their plan to cover the dungeons in vines go faster. “If they grab students, can you make it trap me so I don’t have to go to Quirrel’s class?” was Harry’s only comment. Harry and Ron also bonded over Quidditch, and Ron introduced Harry to his favorite team. The team was, in Harry’s unprofessional opinion, utter garbage at the game, but Harry didn’t point that out to Ron.
After lunch, Fred and George made some excuse about ‘taking a trip to the greenhouse’, and Neville, Ron, and Harry decided to relocate elsewhere. After a brief argument, mostly on Neville and Ron’s behalf, they went up to the Gryffindor dorms. Seeing as there was no one else staying, Neville supposed they could let Harry in. Ron reluctantly agreed, after Harry promised to plug his ears when they said the password and not mention it to any other Gryffindors. Harry didn’t quite understand the big deal, but he supposed someone like Seamus Finnigan would be angry if they found out Ron and Neville had let a Slytherin into their common room.
The Gryffindor common room was warm and cosy, with couches and chairs everywhere. It was decked out in an insane amount of red furniture, but Harry would be a hypocrite if he didn’t acknowledge how every wall in the Slytherin dorms was painted green. The three settled down in front of the fireplace, and they played a variety of wizard games that Harry wasn’t good at but had fun with anyway.
After a bit, Percy had come in and admonished Ron for letting someone from another house into their common room, but Ron just snapped back that Percy clearly let his girlfriend in to snog her, and Percy turned away, red in the face.
Much of the break went this way, and Harry was glad that Ron warmed up to him quite a bit.
~
On Christmas morning, Harry woke up alone in the Slytherin dorms. He was surprised to see, however, a good stack of presents at the foot of his bed. Harry unwrapped his presents, delighted with each new gift. A fifty-pence piece from the Dursleys, a charmed luck pendant from Draco, a book on spells from Blaise, and a box of chocolate frogs from Theo. Pansy had got him a pair of expensive-looking shoes and a new pair of glasses, which she had written had protection spells so they couldn’t smash. Hermione got him a box of Muggle chocolates, which was a welcome surprise in contrast to all the magic chocolates that could do anything from turning your hair a different color to making you speak gibberish. Daphne got him a book titled 'Every Type of Poison and How to Know the Difference: Hexes, Curses, and Potions'. She also included a note that said, ‘I expect that you’ll get yourself poisoned many times while at Hogwarts, better read up.’ Tracey got him a rich green scarf, and Neville got him a new set of wizarding chess pieces. Surprisingly, he also received a box of chocolates from Ron, and the twins sent him a small box of candy with the label ‘Eat at your own risk.’ The most surprising gift of all was a lumpy package that was from Ms. Weasley, a green sweater with his initials. The last box wasn’t labeled by anyone, but it contained a silky gray cloak. There was a note contained with the cloak that read, ‘Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. Merry Christmas to you.’ Giddy with the feeling getting presents gave him, Harry headed down to the Great Hall and sat down at breakfast with Ron, Neville, Fred, and George.
“Thanks for the wicked present mate!” Ron grinned widely as Harry sat down across from him. He held up a large box of chocolate frogs that he was already eating.
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Potter, for your amazing gift.” Harry had got the twins a book on a toad he was very interested in, and he thought they would be too, Animagi. Harry suspected the twins would have a field day with that.
Harry noticed that Percy was also sitting with them, rather unwillingly, it seemed. All of the Weasleys were wearing one of Ms. Weasley’s sweaters, so Harry pulled his out of his bag. “Your mum sent me this, tell her thanks for me!”
Fred grinned. “Harry got one too!”
Ron’s face went red. “Oh no…”
“I think it’s a lovely gift.” Harry pulled his over his head.
Dinner was the most extravagant affair he’s ever seen. Even though only a dozen or so people were staying for the holidays, food was piled high. Harry and the Gryffindors spent a wonderful night having a snowball fight, and Harry split off to go to his dorm.
Turning his attention to the one thing that had been nagging at him all day, Harry picked up the gray cloak. It looked ordinary, for all intents and purposes, but everything he’d learned about the wizarding world was to not take anything at face value. Plus, the note had told him to use it well, so there must be something about it. Perhaps it was a disguise of some kind, or had a warming charm on it? Harry walked to the bathroom, to look in the mirror with it on, and he discovered that when he put it around himself, he disappeared. It was an invisible cloak.
Feeling giddy about this discovery, plus the fact that the castle was mostly empty, Harry decided to take it on a little test drive. Deciding the first place he wanted to go was the restricted section, he pulled on the cloak and departed the dungeons. The restricted section, unfortunately, didn’t tell him much. Most of the books were written in a foreign tongue, or a dead language, or were straight out about dark magic. Though he would like to learn about that, Harry decided against it for now. He wandered the halls of the castle without much intent, just looking for suspicious doors. Seeing a door that was cracked open, he went in.
Inside looked like an abandoned classroom, but there was a mirror standing in the middle. It had an ornate gold frame, and it glinted in the dark. The top of the mirror had Erised inscribed on it. Looking into the mirror was shocking. In the reflection were not only Harry, but two other people who definitely weren’t in the room with him. Harry recognised them after a second as his parents, and he shared many similarities with his dad. Harry spent a few minutes staring at the mirror until it became too much. Even though his parents were there, in the mirror, they weren’t here now. Harry feared what they would think of him now, with him being in Slytherin.
Harry decided not to go back to the mirror again.
Notes:
hot take, Quidditch is the dumbest thing you could possibly think of. Like yeah you fly around on broomsticks, but the thing that wins you the game 99% of the time is a flying little ball you have to catch. Also why do people think Quidditch players are ripped? they sit on a broomstick for the whole game and have probably never once worked out.
Chapter 4: My Favorite Pastime: Saving the World Because no One Else Will
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The holiday break was over soon, and Harry was relieved when his housemates came back. Even though Harry had a great time with the Gryffindors, he did miss his fellow Slytherins.
“Harry!” Tracey greeted him in the common room. “Thanks for the quills!” Harry had gotten Tracey a set of ‘quick-quote-quills’, which automatically wrote down everything someone said. Additionally, he’d gotten Pansy a magical camera, Daphne a calendar that magically refreshes(she’d nagged him for it), Theo a box of magic candy, Draco some hair products, and Blaise a book on hexes.
Draco had brushed past him, mumbling about hair products, but he did look pleased, so Harry counted it as a win.
The next few weeks, Harry was extremely glad he wasn’t on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Every time he was out walking near a window, they were out practicing even if it was pouring rain. Their captain must be insane, Harry thought as he saw someone slip off their broom in the distance.
As Harry and Blaise were walking to the library(the long way, because they didn’t want to study), they ran into someone familiar. Neville was hopping through the halls with an obvious leg-locker curse cast on him. He hopped straight into Harry, knocking himself over.
“Oh, sorry, Neville!” Harry cast the countercurse and helped him up. “Who cursed you, anyway?”
Neville accepted the help gratefully. “I don’t really know them. Some second or third-year Slytherins. One said he was looking for someone to practice on, and the other one called him Cass, or something.”
Blaise sighed next to him. “Ugh, him. Most likely, Cassius Warrington, easily the most annoying person in all of Hogwarts. My mom is friends with his parents, and every time he’s over, he insists on calling me Blaise-y and discussing which curses are the best.” Blaise pulled a face.
Harry laughed. “Blaise-y?”
“If you start, Harry, I swear they’ll never find your body.” Blaise pointed an accusing finger at Harry.
“I won’t say it again. Most likely.” Harry turned his attention back to Neville. “Do you need an escort back to Gryffindor?”
Neville waved his hands in an X motion. “Oh, that’s fine, he’s gone, probably. Plus, if someone from Gryffindor sees you, they’ll probably just curse you instead.” Neville thought for a moment, then pulled something out of his pocket. “Thanks for saving me, you can have this.” It was a chocolate frog.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Harry said at the same time that Blaise said, “Sweet!” Harry turned a glare at Blaise.
“What? Free candy is free candy.” Blaise accepted the chocolate frog from Neville.
Harry waved goodbye to Neville, and Blaise sighed. “Now we actually have to go to the library. Bollocks.”
On the way there, Blaise turned over the small card that came with the chocolate frog. “Dumbledore again, he’s haunting me everywhere.” Blaise stared at the card. “Um, Harry? You and Draco were looking for Flamel, right?”
“Yeah?” Harry perked up.
Blaise handed over the card, and Harry read it aloud. “‘Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel!’ This is huge.” Harry dashed for the library, and Blaise followed.
After a few minutes of searching, Harry identified the book he wanted to find. “I read this a few weeks ago, but I just remembered what was in it.” Harry flipped through to book and found the page he was looking for. “Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!”
Blaise’s face was blank. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”
Harry sighed and handed him the book. The passage was on how it can turn people immortal, and how Flamel himself was immortal. “See?” He said when Blaise was done reading. “Hermione told me a Cerberus was guarding a trapdoor in the hallway we shouldn’t go to, and it’s between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel. They’re obviously hiding the stone there.”
Blaise patted his shoulder. “You have such an imagination, Harry. I’m really envious of you.”
“Well, yeah, it doesn’t seem like a lot of information, but I swear. I’m gonna go tell Draco.”
“I guess I’ll do my Transfiguration essay later,” Blaise muttered, then followed Harry back to the Slytherin common room.
No one in the common room looked like they believed him, except for Draco, who looked pensive. “It does make sense, I suppose. Just, why would they hide it in a school? Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. There’s nothing we have to do about it, seeing as it’s in safe hands.”
“There’s nothing safe about anything Dumbledore does,” Harry muttered, but didn’t argue.
~
Harry spent the next few days meeting with Hermione(who brought along Ron and Neville) about his theory of the Philosopher's Stone. Hermione agreed with him, but also begrudgingly agreed with Draco that there was nothing they should do, as the stone was safe.
Either way, Harry had way too much homework to worry about much else. His housemates had taken to studying together in their common room or the library as a large group to minimize the time they needed to search for information in books. Harry dreaded what his later years would look like if he had to study this hard in his first year.
When Harry and the Slytherins were walking to History of Magic in spring, he overheard Hermione and Ron whispering furiously about something near them in the hallway.
“...how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?”
“We’ve got lessons and we’ll get in trouble, and that’s nothing to what Hagrid’s going to be in if someone finds out-” Hermione was shushed by Ron, who glanced around.
Harry saw Draco staring at them, and he obviously heard that as well. Harry glanced at Draco and nodded to his other friends. “We’ll be right back. Meet you in class.” Harry and Draco approached the two bickering Gryffindors.
“What’s up, guys? I’m sure we’re all talking about very legal things over here.” Harry approached, and Hermione jumped.
“What did you hear?” Hermione said, almost guiltily.
“Enough.” Draco crossed his arms. “A dragon, really? And it’s Hagrid who has it? That oaf will get arrested any day now.”
Ron’s face turned red. “Why’d you bring Malfoy?”
Harry sighed. “Draco, stop being patronizing. Either way, I was just curious.”
“He shouldn’t even have that on campus.” Draco sulked.
“We know. We’re just worried that if we tell someone, they’ll get him arrested, like Malfoy so kindly pointed out.” Hermione informed.
“I bet if you told Dumbledore, he wouldn’t get Hagrid in trouble. He has that whole aura of ‘I can do whatever I want because you can’t arrest Albus Dumbledore’. Plus, what can you even do?” Harry wasn’t entirely a fan of Dumbledore, seeing as he was the one who put him in the care of the Dursleys, but he was their best bet.
‘Hmm.” Hermione mulled it over. “We’ll talk to Hagrid about it.”
“Do get an answer, or I’ll report it to Dumbledore myself by the end of the week.” Draco drawled. Harry poked him.
“Well, thanks for your input, Malfoy. Like we care.” Ron stormed off, Hermione following him with a shrug at Harry.
~
Thankfully, Hermione told them that she had convinced Hagrid to tell Dumbledore about the dragon. Apparently, Dumbledore had assured them that he had called Charlie Weasley to pick him up from Hogwarts.
It’s not like Harry had time for much else. Even though Draco probably would have run around the castle at some ungodly hour trying to catch them with a dragon, Harry had more important things to do; i.e, studying. Not only were his headaches getting worse, but he felt severely overwhelmed with all the written and practical exams he had to complete. Harry felt he did okay, Draco spent most of his off time bragging about how great he did, Blaise looked slightly crazed after everything, Theo looked way more pale than normal, and Pansy spent most of her time cursing out teachers(not in front of them, of course) about not including everything on the exam in their study guides.
After their final test, Pansy dragged them all outside to get some sunlight, seeing as most of them had spent the last week reviewing down in their dorms. While it was nice to get some quiet while they reviewed, there was no sunlight in the dungeons. Sitting near the lake was nice, and Harry closed his eyes.
He blinked his eyes open when a shadow covered his face. “Yeah?”
“Harry!” Hermione was leaning over him. “I think the Stone is in trouble.”
“Huh?” Harry sat up abruptly.
“Well, I thought it was odd that someone would just have a dragon to give after Hagrid said it was the one thing he wanted most, and I asked him, and he said that it was some hooded figure that asked about Fluffy, and Hagrid told them how to calm him.”
“We should go tell Dumbledore, then.” Harry regretfully stood up from the place where he had been lying.
“Alright, guys.” Pansy addressed everyone. “Harry is determined to go get himself killed. Whose turn is it to go with him?”
“What-we’re not doing anything! Just going to tell Dumbledore!” Harry protested.
“Well, there’s a chance that you’ll go risk your life afterwards anyway. Theo, I volunteer for you.”
Theo muttered something under his breath. “Fine. Whatever. Not like I want to live past eleven anyway.” Pansy grinned.
Harry looked around and saw that Hermione had brought Neville and Ron. Departing the sunny area, they entered the castle again. Making their way to Dumbledore’s office, they ran into Professor McGonagall. “What are you five doing?” She looked suspicious.
“We want to see Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione spoke up, rather bravely.
“Why on earth would you want to see Professor Dumbledore?”
“Um– it’s sort of a secret,” Harry answered, and McGonagall narrowed her eyes.
“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago. He received an urgent message from the Ministry and is off to London.”
“He’s gone? Now?”
“Professor Dumbledore is a Great Wizard, Potter, and I doubt anything you have to say to him is more important than the Ministry.”
“It’s about the Philosopher’s Stone, Professor. Someone’s going to try and steal it.” Hermione sounded slightly desperate.
“What— how did you figure out— it doesn’t matter. Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow. I don’t know how you found out about it, but rest assured, it’s perfectly safe.” McGonagall swept away, leaving all five of them there.
“I bet someone’s going to try and break in tonight.” Ron sighed.
“We have no evidence that’s going to happen.” Theo protested. “For all I know, you’ve all gone insane and want an excuse to break into a secret vault that’s perfectly safe and guarded.”
“Better be safe than sorry, though, right?” Harry suggested.
Theo glared at Harry. “I can’t believe you got into Slytherin. None of us would be stupid enough to do any of this on our own.”
Despite Theo’s argument, he and Harry still met Ron, Hermione, and Neville at the door to the Cerberus that night. Theo and Harry had snuck out with the invisibility cloak, and the Gryffindors had just snuck past Filch. To Harry’s horror, the door was already ajar.
Inside, they snuck past the Cerberus with Hermione playing a tune on a small flute she transfigured, having already thought of this. Down the hatch, they landed on a plant.
“This is the Devil’s Snare!” Neville exclaimed, the plant curling around his limbs. “It’s weak to fire.”
“No way,” Theo snarked, but he cast a spell, and a stream of flames quickly engulfed the plant. They quickly shook off the last tendrils of the plant and continued deeper into the room. The passage took them farther and a bit deeper, but eventually the room opened up. There were dozens of small flying things up in the air, and a door at the end.
“What are those?” Ron squinted, but he couldn’t see anything in the dark.
“Lumos!” Hermione cast, and they could all see dozens of keys with wings flapping above their heads.
“Oh no, one of those goes to the door, doesn’t it?” Theo grumbled.
Harry scoured the room with his eyes. “Look! There are brooms over there. I could fly up and catch the key.”
“Which key, though?” Neville questioned.
“It’s got to be an old-fashioned key, probably silver like the handle of the door,” Ron suggested.
Harry took a broom and flew up, and quickly identified one that looked the most promising. Quickly snatching it and flying back down, he tried it on the door. The door sprang open, and in the next room was Harry’s worst nightmare. “Oh no. Chess.”
“We’ve got to play our way across the room,” Ron said. “No offense to you guys… but I know Harry, Hermione, and Neville aren’t that good at chess, and I’m not sure about Nott.”
“We’re not offended. And you’re better than Theo. Tell us what to do.” Harry said, ignoring how Theo halfheartedly glared at him.
“Harry, you take the place of that bishop. Hermione, take the spot of that castle. Neville, replace that rook. And Nott, you be that other bishop. I’ll be the knight.” Ron asserted, and the game began. Ron played carefully, making sure not to sacrifice any of the pieces that they’d replaced, until there was an issue. “I’ve got to give myself up. After that, you all move to the next room quickly.” Ron moved, and the white queen knocked him out. Harry made the finishing move, ending the game.
“Is he-” Neville gulped. Hermione ushered them all to the next room quickly.
In the next room, as a puzzle that involved potions. Harry and Neville tried to help, but Harry was competent at potions at best and horrible with puzzles, and Neville tended to blow up his potions very quickly. Hermione and Theo huddled around the note, exchanging ideas and information.
“That one will get through the fire. There’s only enough in the bottle for two people, though.” Hermione fretfully pointed towards the bottle. “I can go back and find Ron, but someone else will come with me.”
“I can go,” Neville offered. “We’ll go find Professor McGonagall, or owl Dumbledore, or something. You two try to keep whoever broke in at bay.”
Harry nodded to him, and Theo grabbed the bottle. “If you die, you'd better turn into a ghost and haunt our house. Draco will throw a hissy fit if he can’t see you again.”
Stepping through the flames, Harry and Theo were face to face with someone completely unexpected, though Harry couldn’t help but think I told you so.
Quirrel stood there, grinning like a maniac. “I wondered whether you’d be here, Potter. Though Nott coming along is a bit of a surprise.”
“I so guessed this!” Harry exclaimed. “Uh, I mean, oh no! Not you!” Theo side-eyed him and said nothing.
Quirrel ignored his sarcasm. He snapped, and ropes wrapped themselves around both Harry and Theo. “See, Potter, you’re too nosy to live. Running around the castle on Halloween, it’s like you have a death wish.”
“Believe me, he does,” Theo muttered.
Quirrel continued to monologue like a comic book supervillain. Talking about how smart he was about doing things that, frankly, Harry didn’t care about. “Wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this mirror.” The mirror of Erised stood there. Quirrel continued to mutter about the mirror, the stone, and Dumbledore.
Harry glanced at Theo and shrugged. 'Do you have any idea of what to do?' Harry tried to convey.
Theo just squinted at him. Whether that meant he didn’t understand Harry or he didn’t have an idea, Harry didn’t know.
“Do you have any idea, Master?” Quirrel was still talking.
To Harry’s horror, a voice came out of nowhere. “Use the boy…Potter…” Quirrel rounded on him. He snapped, and Harry’s ropes fell away. Quirrel directed him to tell him what he saw in the mirror, and Harry steeled himself. In the mirror was himself, but then his reflection smiled and pulled the Stone out of his pocket. Harry kept a straight face.
“I see my family, my parents.” Quirrel cursed that his plan had failed, and Harry wondered what spell he could use to cut Theo’s ropes.
“The boy lies…” The strange voice came again, and Quirrel grabbed Harry. “Let me speak to him…face to face…”
Quirrel hesitated for a second, then unwrapped his turban. Harry wanted to throw up. There was a horrible face on the back of Quirrel’s head, and it spoke. “See what I have become? Shadow and vapor, I have to rely on someone else’s body. Now, why don’t you give me that stone in your pocket?”
Harry’s face felt numb, unable to express all the feelings he felt at that moment. Anger, because this was Voldemort, fear, for that very same reason, and disgust because the ‘dark lord’ was currently on the back of his professor’s head. Harry forced himself to collect his thoughts. Voldemort was hesitating to kill him now, even if it was because he had the stone. Harry had to free Theo, save the stone, and do something to incapacitate Quirrel.
“How much you look like your father, Harry.” The disgusting face drawled. “I always value bravery. Your parents were brave. I killed your father first. He was courageous, but he fell. Your mother begged me to take her life instead of yours. She died trying to protect you, and unless you want her sacrifice to be in vain, you should hand over the stone. I’ll even spare you and your friend for tonight.”
Harry, hating every second of it, forced his face to look uncertain and afraid. “I…you promise? You’ll let Theo go?” Harry slowly slid his hand into his pocket, searching for his wand.
“Harry.” Theo’s face was in a snarl. “What are you doing?”
Voldemort’s face alighted in a small grin, and Harry stopped himself from retching at the sight. “I promise. Now, be a good boy, and hand over the stone.”
Harry gripped his wand and answered. He first shot an enlarging spell at the ropes holding Theo, which freed him, then cast Flippendo, the spell that Draco had used on the two older Gryffindors earlier in the year. Quirrel went backwards, unprepared. Quirrel was stronger than him, though, so he only slid a few feet back. Quirrel lunged at him, knocking his wand out of his hand, and Harry raised his hands in defense. Quirrel screamed, stumbling back. He was burning where Harry had touched him, and Harry pressed his hands back onto Quirrel. The man fell back, and just as Harry was about to drain his magic, Theo cast Flippendo at Quirrel one last time. Harry panted, and Quirrel burnt up into ashes, or something. Harry was incredibly tired and might have been hallucinating at that point.
“Harry!” Theo steadied him, and no sooner did Dumbledore stride into the room did Harry, rather embarrassingly, blacked out.
~
Harry drifted back into consciousness, and he blinked his eyes open. Harry’s eyes drifted over, and he saw Dumbledore sitting in a chair at his bedside. Harry didn’t believe his eyes, and he merely stared at Dumbledore until he replied in a calm tone, “Hello, Harry.”
“...Sir?” Suddenly, Harry was wide awake. “What about the Stone! Quirrel!”
“Calm yourself, dear boy. The stone is in safe hands.” Dumbledore smiled. “What happened in the Dungeons between you and Professor Quirrel is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows.”
“How long have I been here?”
“Three days. Your friends will be most relieved that you have come around, they have been extremely worried.”
“What about the stone?” Harry questioned.
“I see that you are not distracted. Quirrel did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, though you were doing a mervelous job of that already.” Harry noticed how he didn’t mention Theo once, nor the fact that Harry distinctly remembered defeating Quirrel on their own. “As for the stone, it has been destroyed.”
“Destroyed?”
“Yes, my friend Nicholas and I had a chat, and it’s for the best.”
“But that means he and his wife will die, won’t they?”
Dumbledore laughed a bit. “You did do your own research on this, did you? Yes, they will die, but they have enough elixers to last them enough time to get their affairs sorted out.” Dumbledore continued to tell him about the Flammels, and ‘reassure’ him that no, Voldemort isn’t gone for good. He’s still out there.
“Sir? There are some other things I’d like to know, if you can tell me. Things I want to know the truth about.”
“The truth.” Dumbledore sighed, and his voice sounded rather like he was talking to a toddler. “It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and therefore should be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer unless I have a very good reason not to. I shall not lie, of course.”
“Well,” Harry began. “Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because he wanted to kill me too. Why is that?”
“Alas, the first thing you ask is one that I cannot tell you. Not now, perhaps when you’re older.”
“Why couldn’t Quirrel touch me?” Harry tried another question.
“Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort doesn’t understand, it is love. Your mother’s love leaves a mark on you that no one can see…no scar or sign, but it protects you nonetheless.”
Harry continued to ask questions about Snape and Quirrel, and the invisibility cloak. It was like Dumbledore to borrow something from his father, then not return it for eleven years. Of course, his father was dead, but he could have always put it in their vault.
After Dumbledore left, Harry tried his hardest to convince Madam Pomfrey to let his friends in, who were apparently crowding the entrance.
“No. You need rest.” Her stern voice reprimanded him. “Besides, there are far too many of them to let in to be rowdy.”
“You let Dumbledore in,” Harry pointed out. “Five minutes, please? I’ll make them be quiet.”
Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Fine. But five minutes only.” She let his friends in, and he was met by a few more faces than he was expecting. Theo, Blaise, Draco, Pansy, and Daphne were followed in by Hermione, Ron, and Neville.
“Harry!” Hermione hugged him first, then lightly smacked him on the head. “What were you thinking? We were so worried!”
Neville grinned. “She’s been like this the whole time. Even had a civil conversation with Nott, which was a surprise.”
“Was 'he' really there?” Draco tried to act aloof, but concern trickled into his voice.
“What do you think, Malfoy? I’d straight up lie to you? I’m hurt.” Theo pushed his way to Harry. “That was some good acting. I guess you do have a shot at being a good Slytherin after all.”
Harry explained what Dumbledore said about Flammel, and Ron gaped. “So, that’s it?” Flammel’s just gonna die?”
Harry shrugged. “Dumbledore thinks that to him, death is the next big adventure.”
“I always thought he was off his rocker,” Ron muttered.
“So, what happened to you guys once we went through the fire?” Harry questioned.
“Well, Neville and I got back all right,” Said Hermione. “We woke Ron up, which took a minute, then we rushed to the owlry to contact Dumbledore, but he was already here. He just said, ‘Harry’s gone after him, hasn’t he?’, then dashed off to the third floor.”
“D’you think he meant for that to happen?” Questioned Theo. “He did give you back your father’s invisibility cloak, after all.”
“Surely he wouldn’t have sent a child after Quirrel?” Pansy sneered.
“No, I don’t think he did,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Dumbledore is interesting. I feel like he wanted to give me a chance to do something. He does know what goes on throughout most of the castle, so he might’ve had a good idea of what we were doing.”
“Well, that’s even more concerning,” Blaise remarked. “He supposedly knew what you were doing and didn’t even try to persuade you out of it?”
“Yeah, Dumbledore’s off his rocker for sure.” Ron agreed.
Then Madam Pomfrey came in and shooed them all out so Harry could rest.
~
The next day, Madam Pomfrey checked on Harry. “You’re free to go to the feast. But first, there’s someone who wanted to see you.”
Harry looked at her questioningly. Hagrid entered the room, a person he’d seen but never talked to but had heard about from Hermione and Ron.
“Hello, Harry. I’m Hagrid. I knew your parents in school. You look so much like your father. Besides Slytherin, of course.” Hagrid mumbled the last part, but smiled nonetheless. “I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you sooner, Hermione and Ron told me all you’ve done. You helped them save the school from you-know-who, and it was all my fault he could do that in the first place.”
Harry smiled placatingly. The man looked close to tears. “I’m sure even if you didn’t tell him how to do it, he would have figured it out anyway.”
“Thanks. Oh, by the way, I have a present for you.” Hagrid held out a book, and it was filled with pictures of his parents and their friends. “Do you like it?”
“I…thank you so much.” Harry nodded at Hagrid, and he beamed.
That night at the end-of-year feast, Harry made his way to the Slytherin table. The hall was filled with Slytherin colors; the banners that hung were green and silver. Harry sat down in his regular seat between Blaise and Theo, and Draco grinned at him.
“About time you got here. I could hear Weasley complaining across the Great Hall about Slytherin winning the cup again.”
Dumbledore stood up and addressed the room. “Another year gone! I hope your heads are a bit fuller than when you arrived. Now you have the whole summer to empty them before next year starts. Now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding. Gryffindor stands in fourth with three hundred and twelve points; in third we have Hufflepuff with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw in second with four hundred and twenty-six, and Slytherin with four hundred and seventy-two.” The Slytherin table went up in cheers. “Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account. I have a few last-minute points to hand out.”
Harry turned to Theo. “Is he for real?”
“Sadly, I think so.” Theo sighed.
“First, to Ron Weasley-” Ron, across the hall, went red in the face. “For the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen, I award Gryffindor one hundred points!”
Harry just stared at Theo. “It’s house favoritism. He’ll probably give you some, too, but give them just enough to win,” Theo answered.
“Second, to Miss Granger. For the use of cool logic in the face of danger, I award you one hundred points to Gryffindor.” Dumbledore continued after the cheers died down. “Third, to Harry Potter. For outstanding courage, I award one hundred points to Slytherin. And lastly, to Neville Longbottom for bravery and helping fellow classmates, one hundred points to Gryffindor.”
The hall erupted in cheers, except for the Slytherin table. “He likes all the houses equally, right.” Pansy crossed her arms.
“I suppose he got bored of us winning every year, by doing the right thing and earning points,” Harry heard a third year mutter down the table.
“Which means, we need a little change of decoration.” Dumbledore flicked his wand, and all the green banners shifted to gold and red.
Draco just sneered, and they tried to have fun at the feast nonetheless.
~
The year was rapidly ending, and they got test scores back. Draco got second in the year, passed only by Hermione. Harry did well despite it all, and even did well in potions because of Draco’s help. Their trunks were packed, clothes put away, and common rooms cleaned. The train ride back to King’s Cross station was fun, and Harry spent most of the time with Slytherins, but he did visit Hermione, Ron, and Neville.
Harry sighed as they pulled up. “Don’t forget to send me letters this summer,” Harry reminded his friends.
“Don’t worry, my mom’s going to bore me to death. I’ll send you page-length letters with sonnets written on them.” Blaise smirked
Harry laughed and waved goodbye. Stepping out into Muggle London, he spotted Vernon, with his face turning purple, across the way.
Sighing, Harry resigned himself to a summer back at the Dursleys.
Notes:
The end of year 1!!
Please ignore the chess scene, I don't play chess and am too lazy to learn how it works :D
Chapter 5: I Meet the Only Responsible Adult in my Life
Chapter Text
Not for the first time that summer, Harry wished he had just run away and been homeless for three months; It would have caused everyone much less trouble. Harry had gotten into five total arguments with Vernon over Hedwig, his owl. Vernon wouldn’t hear of letting the owl out at night, because apparently, it was bad enough that he let it fly off at all.
Though the fact that Harry could use magic dissuaded Dudley from ever approaching him, with Vernon, it was harder. Sure, he was scared of magic, but at times his anger at Harry overruled his fear of magic. Of course, Harry couldn’t actually use magic because of the law, but the Dursleys didn’t need to know that.
“Pass the bacon,” Dudley had ordered Harry one morning.
“You forgot the magic word.” Harry had replied sarcastically. Vernon didn’t find it so funny, instead jumping up and yelling about using the "m word". He’d slapped Harry across the face, and Harry still had a bruise on his cheek weeks later. Harry was pretty sure he wasn’t concussed, but one could never be too sure.
The moment Harry had set foot in the house, the Dursleys had locked his stuff in the cupboard under the stairs. Not that that would stop him from getting his homework done over the break. Harry had convinced the Weasley twins to help him with an extension charm on his bag, so he just put all his important homework and books there so he would still have access. The thought of going an entire summer without any connection to magic was so horrible that he might have actually gone insane.
Harry spent most of the summer either in his room, the park, or the library. The Dursleys didn’t really care where he went, as long as he didn’t cause them any trouble and go places that they would actually deign to show their faces. So Harry, despite the sweltering heat, sat on the swing set most days, struggling through his summer homework. Not many kids wanted to go to this park, because many pieces of play equipment were rusted and outdated, but that just made it all the better for Harry.
On Harry’s birthday, he wasn’t expecting anything. His friends hadn’t sent one letter all summer, which was putting him on edge. Surely, they hadn’t all decided at once that they were done with him? But nothing arrived for him on his birthday. It was just as well, Harry supposed, because he didn’t want to put Vernon out of his good mood.
“It’s a very important day today,” Vernon announced. “It could very well be the greatest day of my career.” Vernon had been ranting about schedules and roles for this dinner for weeks. Petunia and Dursley were supposed to be nice and entertaining, and Harry was to stay up in his room, pretending he wasn’t there and making no noise.
Harry spent the day in his room, reading part of an advanced Transfiguration book. A bit after Vernon’s special guests should have arrived, however, someone popped into his room. Harry jumped, but didn’t say anything. Studying them further, Harry recognised it was a House Elf, something Draco talked on end about.
“Er– hello.” Harry introduced himself quietly.
“Harry Potter!” His squeaky voice made Harry cringe. “Dobby has waited long to see you; it is an honor!”
“You’re a House Elf? What are you doing here?” Harry tried to calm himself.
“Dobby came to warn you… where to begin…” Dobby trailed off.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Harry patted the seat next to him on the bed. To his horror, Dobby made a big deal of this. He squealed, and his eyes filled with tears.
“How kind you are, sir. Dobby hasn’t met many kind wizards like you…” Dobby caught himself, opting to try to bang his head on the wall while wailing, “Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!”
Harry caught him and shushed the House Elf. “Why are you here again?” Dobby stuttered through an explanation of how Harry was going to be in trouble at Hogwarts, and that Dobby’s master surely wouldn’t want him to be here.
“But I belong at Hogwarts!” Harry exclaimed quietly. “All my friends and family are there.”
“But do Harry’s friends send him letters?” Dobby looked at him expectantly.
“How do you know I’ve got no letters?” Harry stared at Dobby.
“You mustn’t be mad… Dobby thought… if Harry thought his friends had left him, he wouldn’t want to go back.” He pulled a giant wad of letters out of a pocket of his tattered clothing.
“I’m not mad.” Harry tried to use enormous restraint. “But my relatives are horrible. It doesn’t matter if I’m in danger at Hogwarts; it’s the only place I can be. Besides, Dumbledore keeps the school safe.”
“Dumbledore?” Dobby’s voice raised considerably. “Albus Dumbledore is a great wizard. But Dobby cannot help but worry about Harry Potter!”
“Dobby!” Harry tried to shush him. “If you don’t quiet down, my relatives will be very cross. They might not even take me to the station.” Harry half mumbled the last part, but Dobby’s eyes widened. “No–” But Dobby had disappeared.
Harry rushed down the stairs just in time to see Dobby pushing a stack of plates and pudding off the counter. Harry widened his eyes as the bowl shattered on the ground. Vernon came rushing into the room, only to see Harry standing in the kitchen.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, after Vernon had assured his boss that everything was fine, an owl flew in through the window. Vernon snatched it, read it over briefly, then turned his glare to Harry. “You didn’t mention you weren’t allowed to use magic outside of school. Well, I’ve got news for you, boy. I’m locking you up, and you’re never going back to that bloody school ever again.” Vernon grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him back to his room. Throwing him in, Vernon ground out, “I’ll come back after our guests are gone.”
Harry looked up to see the pile of letters on his bed, but no House Elf. Tucking the letters away where Vernon wouldn’t see them, Harry fearfully waited for when Vernon would come back.
Near midnight, Harry drifted off to sleep on the floor of his room, covered in scratches and welts, his head throbbing. The end of summer couldn’t come sooner, and Harry vowed that he would break out to go to King’s Cross, no matter what.
~
On September 1st, Harry anxiously waited until Petunia went outside to garden before breaking into the room under the stairs. Vernon was off at work, and Dudley was out with his gang, so Harry had to make it quick. Unlocking the door, he pulled his trunk out. Quickly shutting the door, he hurried out the front door. He looked around until he made sure Petunia wasn’t right next to him, and he booked it. He ran as quietly as possible, and he successfully made it out of their neighborhood before he let himself take a brief rest.
Just before Vernon had installed bars on his window(it was lucky that he just missed it), Harry sent Hedwig out with a letter to Draco. Even though he was suspicious of Draco’s parents, he was one of the only people he trusted with this.
Dear Draco,
I’m having a rubbish summer, thanks. My muggle relatives hate magic and locked me in my room(no, not all of them are like that. It’s just mine.), and I can’t exactly get around to shopping for supplies this summer. I promise I’m coming back to school, I’ll just have to make a run for it. Do you think you could pick up the Lockhart books for me? I know they’re complete rubbish, but I suppose I have to have them. I got most of my other books in advance, and I don’t need a new pair of robes right away. Do you also think you can take care of Hedwig for the last bit of Summer? I’m afraid of what will happen to her if she has to stay here with me. I’ll pay you back for anything you purchase for me, of course. You’re the best.
Thanks,
Harry
Harry made it into the busier part of Surrey and found a bus stop. He got on the bus for King’s Cross and anxiously waited. The bus made him a little late, and he only had a few minutes to get to the platform. Hurrying through the crowd, Harry briskly walked towards the wall. There weren’t any wizards around, so Harry must be extremely late.
Harry was expecting the illusion wall, like last time, so imagine his shock when he ran face-first into a brick wall. Standing up, he put his hand to the wall. Solid brick. It was the right wall, he was sure, so what happened?
'The train must have already departed,' Harry thought despondently. 'I missed the train.'
Just as Harry was reviewing his options in his head, such as running to Scotland himself, someone approached him. “Are you lost, dear?” A woman with long brown hair smiled at him.
“Oh, the train I was waiting for left already.” Harry tried not to sound too upset.
“Oh, the train for Hogwarts left already? That’s a shame. Do you need any help getting to the school, then?”
Harry looked at her, surprised. “You’re a wizard?”
“Of course, dear. You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you? I used to know your parents, such kind people, they were.” She smiled at him. “I’m Andromeda Tonks.”
“Nice to meet you.” Harry smiled back at her. “If you could help me get to school, that would be amazing. If it’s not too much trouble to you, of course.” Harry recognised her as one of the people in the photos he got from Hagrid at the end of last year.
“Oh, nonsense! I like to keep in touch with Albus; it keeps him on his toes.” Andromeda laughed pleasantly. “I’ll owl him. I can help you apparate to Hogsmeade later. Of course, it’s hours before the train arrives at Hogwarts. It seems there’s something else troubling you, if you’d like to chat. There’s this lovely Muggle cafe just down the street. If you’d like, I can also tell you about your parents from my schooling days. I imagine you might want to hear more about them.”
“That sounds nice.” Harry nodded, and Andromeda led the way. The small cafe they went to was a small local place down the road. Andromeda ordered a cup of tea, and Harry ordered a latte. Andromeda also ordered a scone for him, then paid for them both.
“Anything on your mind, dear? People often tell me I give good advice.”
Harry nodded. “Well, all summer there’s been this House Elf bothering me. Apparently, I’m going to be in danger this year, and he’s trying to stop me from going by getting me in trouble and stealing my mail.”
Andromeda thought this over. “It’s curious that a House Elf would be so enamoured with helping you. His masters didn’t set him up to do this?”
“No. He wouldn’t tell me who they were, but he’s doing it against their orders.”
“That is curious. I’d be careful this year, either from the danger he warned you of or the fact that he might continue to try and send you home.”
“Oh, I think he might have been the one to close the entrance to the platform. It was just a solid brick wall when I tried to enter.”
“This House Elf does seem serious about trying to save you. If you figure out anything else, like their master perhaps, I could help you more.” An extended silence ensued, and Andromeda thanked the waiter for bringing their drinks. “How are you liking Hogwarts so far? I hear you were sorted into Slytherin.”
Harry took a sip of his drink(he’d never gotten a latte before, but it was surprisingly good). “Yeah, I was. I like Hogwarts a lot, it’s just very…”
“Chaotic?” Andromeda smiled. “It always is. I used to be a Slytherin, back in the day. I love the house pride, but other houses don’t entirely share that sentiment.”
“Yeah, my friends outside of Slytherin don’t really understand,” Harry agreed. “It’s just kind of like a bond with my housemates that I can’t explain, even the ones I’m not particularly friends with.”
Harry and Andromeda continued to chatter about potions, other students, and his parents for multiple hours.
“Feel free to write to me any time this school year if you need advice. We ought to apparate to Hogsmeade now, the express will arrive at Hogwarts in about an hour.” Andromeda took Harry down a side street where no one was. “Grab hold of my arm, and close your eyes. It might be a bit uncomfortable.”
Apparating wasn’t any easier than the last time it happened; after landing, Harry struggled to stay standing up. After making sure he was alright, Andromeda led him to Hogwarts Castle. They had apparated into the Three Broomsticks, and she waved at the bartender, as well as the few patrons at this time of day. It seems like she was a regular here.
The castle looked ominous, with no other students here. Andromeda and Harry passed a few ghosts, but other than that, the hallways were completely deserted. At the eagle statue leading up to Dumbledore’s office, Andromeda declared, “Butterscotch,” and the stairs obliged. After knocking on the door and without waiting for a response on the other side, Andromeda pushed the door open. Harry laid his eyes on a slightly surprised Dumbledore, but the old wizard quickly schooled his face.
“Miss Tonks, Mister Potter, I wasn’t expecting you so promptly. Andromeda, I don’t recall giving you the password to my office?” Dumbledore clasped his hands.
“Apologies, Dumbledore. I was just showing up promptly with Harry,” Andromeda smiled.
“Yes, I’m glad you got to Hogwarts safely after you missed the train. How did that happen, anyhow?” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled, putting Harry off a bit. Dumbledore told him at the end of the last year that he was going back to the Dursleys for the summer, and Harry didn’t like that one bit. They were horrible, so why did Harry have to live there?
“Well, Sir, the Dursleys weren’t exactly willing to drive me to King’s Cross, and I had to take Muggle transportation.” Harry didn’t feel in a rush to tell Dumbledore about the House Elf, for some reason. Even though Dumbledore is supposedly the most powerful wizard living now, Harry didn’t exactly trust his plans after last year’s near-death experience. For all his ‘plans’ he supposedly had, none of them seemed centered on keeping Harry safe right now.
“That’s sad to hear. Perhaps next year I can arrange Wizarding travel to the station,” Dumbledore brushed past the topic, irking Harry. “Harry, you’re free to go to the Great Hall or your dorm, considering you have your luggage with you. The rest of the students will not be here for half an hour yet. I believe the password is Initiative.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Harry. Perhaps our paths will cross some other time,” Andromeda smiled warmly and waved at Harry.
“Bye, Andromeda. I hope I see you around.” Harry dragged his suitcases back down the stairs and headed to the Slytherin dorms. Even though the dungeons are drafty and creepy, they still feel ten times as welcoming as the Dursleys’ home. Harry takes a while to unpack in his new dorm room, claiming the same bed he had last year. It’s technically a different room for the second-years, but it has the exact same layout as the first-year dorm and common room.
Guessing that it’s about time for people to be arriving at the Great Hall, Harry quickly changed into his school robes and headed down. He slipped in seamlessly with the stream of kids coming down the hallway and made a beeline to the Slytherin table.
All his friends were already there, and Draco jumped up when he saw him. “Harry!” Draco hissed as Harry approached him. “Where were you? What do you think you’re doing?” Draco hugged him, then stood back and crossed his arms.
“Whoa there, going through a lot of emotions, are we?” Harry poked Draco.
Theo snorted. “Hardly. He’s been worrying about you the whole train ride. ‘Those good-for-nothing relatives of his didn’t let him leave’, and ‘Potter better be alive or I’ll kill him’. He even talked to Granger and Weasley in a semi-civil fashion to ask where you were.”
“Really? All that for me?” Harry sat down and pulled his friend down with him. “You worry too much. I’m fine, I just missed the train.”
“What?” Pansy scrunched her nose at him. “How did you pull that off?”
“Well, I didn’t mean to!” Harry motioned exasperatedly with his hands. “Something weird happened with the barrier, and I couldn’t get to the platform. This House Elf has been bothering me all summer, and he even took my mail! I could only send one letter out before my uncle put bars over my window, so I just asked Draco to take care of Hedwig.”
“Yeah, he told us about that.” Blaise frowned. “Seriously? We can’t leave you alone for two seconds before it all goes to shit. How did you even get here if the train left?”
“Oh, I ran into Andromeda Tonks, one of my parents’ old friends. She apparated me here.”
“Andromeda? My estranged aunt? You just met some random on the street and trusted them?” Draco asked, incredulous, while Blaise and Pansy snickered. “Plus I think she’s your, what, godfather’s cousin?”
Harry sighed. “Who knows what my family tree looks like. Least of all me. But that’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point? We need to store you in a box during the summer so you can’t get into trouble?” Daphne leaned over and punched his shoulder lightly. “Good to see you alive. I had a bet going with a 50/50 chance you’d die. Granger owes me five sickles.” Harry whipped around to see Hermione sticking her tongue out at Daphne.
“Since when are you friends with Granger?” Draco scoffed.
“Last time I checked, I have more friends than just you, Malfoy. And I don’t care what their blood status is, because Granger is smarter than all of you combined.”
“What-” Harry was about to continue questioning what she meant, but the sorting ceremony started. No one really stood out, because the youngest Weasley went to Gryffindor, respectively. Slytherin got three new first-years, two girls and one boy.
The rest of the feast went by without commotion, a first in Harry’s book. After walking back to the dorms and separating for the night, Harry flopped onto his bed with a sigh.
“Potter!” Draco threw a stack of fabric at him, followed by seven books he semi-dropped onto Harry’s stomach.
“What the fuck-Malfoy!” Harry wheezed. His ribs were surely going to be bruised tomorrow. He pushed the books off his chest and onto the bed, noting that they were all the books on his list written by Gilderoy Lockhart. They were the only ones he hadn’t bought ahead of time because he hadn’t known beforehand what books he’d need, unlike the rest of the classes. Harry picked up the clothes and inspected them. “Draco-- these are new school robes! I told you I didn’t need more. How did you even get my size?”
Draco sniffed. “You obviously need new ones. While it’s true you haven’t grown too much, I don’t need you looking any more scuffed than you already do. And you’re practically the same size as Theo, so I just borrowed his measurements. You don’t need to pay me back; consider it a gift for your birthday since I couldn’t get a present to you.”
“That’s right! I sent you a present, but you didn’t get it. Where did it go, anyway?” Theo laid back on his bed.
Harry shrugged. “I got some of my mail back, I think the House Elf felt bad, but no packages. It’s fine, honestly. I never really got birthday presents.”
Blaise, Draco, and Theo shared a concerned glance. “This won’t do. I’ll give you double presents for Yule!” Blaise declared.
“I definitely won’t turn it down.” Harry yawned. “I’m turning in. See you tomorrow.”
Notes:
Year 2 starts! Also, Andromeda is here, and it might be because she's one of my favorites... :)
Chapter 6: All My Friends are Horrible: The Sequel
Notes:
TW: non-descriptive blood(Harry breaks his nose)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next day was definitely interesting. In the morning, the Slytherin second-years had transfiguration, and after that, they headed down to the greenhouses. Standing next to the open greenhouse door was a perfectly groomed man who immediately gave Harry the urge to punch him, whom Harry recognised as Gilderoy Lockhart, their new Defense professor.
“Harry Potter! Harry, Harry, Harry, you’re just the person I was looking to see. Do you mind if I borrow you a moment?” Lockhart sprang into talking, seeming like he was waiting at the door specifically for Harry.
“Um-” Harry turned to his friends, but Lockhart just grabbed his arm and beamed. “Brilliant! I’ll return you to herbology soon, of course, don’t worry, lad.” Lockhart all but dragged Harry a slight bit away, where they were temporarily out of range of any students.
“Oh, when I heard last year about you, I felt terribly sorry! I know why you did it, of course, it’s what all boys your age naturally search for. You’re so brave for it! A true man looking for publicity!”
Harry looked at the professor incredulously. “What?”
“You don’t have to play coy with me, Harry. I picked up on it, don’t worry.” He winked. “You, getting sorted into Slytherin? The boy who lived, whose parents both belong to proud Gryffindor? I know a ruse when I see one. It’s a shame you subjected yourself to years in Slytherin just for some publicity, but it was definitely a bold move. If your parents were alive, they surely would forgive you for joining Slytherin, since it’s for publicity. People will talk about you for years to come!”
Harry scoffed. “I didn’t ‘subject myself’ to years in Slytherin, nor did I do it for publicity. You think I got myself sorted into Slytherin just to get famous? What do you take me for?”
“A young man looking for some fame! There’s no shame in that. Though it’s not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile five times in a row, but it’s a start!” Lockhart winked and strode off, apparently forgetting his promise to take Harry back to Herbology.
Harry just stared slack-jawed at the retreating professor. How could one man be so tone-deaf and idiotic? He shook his head and went back to Herbology, wincing as Professor Sprout sighed at him.
“Mister Potter, is there a reason you’re incredibly late to my class?” Sprout crossed her arms.
“Sorry Professor. Lockhart came by and dragged me off to rant about his fame and insult my family.” Harry rolled his eyes at the thought of the man.
“Ah, him. It’s no trouble Mister Potter, just take a seat.” Sprout seemed much more lenient now that it was Lockhart’s fault. Harry heard her speaking under her breath about “that imecile of a man.”
Draco looked at Harry questioningly, but Harry waved him off. He was quickly distracted by the odd conversation by being tasked with the god-awful mandrakes.
After two hours of wrangling the little pests, the tired Slytherins went to wash off before lunch. At lunch, Harry went to visit Hermione, Ron, and Neville for the first time after summer break. He didn’t get to see them on the train, so Harry decided he would say hello. Ignoring the death glares he got from most of the Gryffindor table, Harry approached Hermione. “Yup, I lived another year. Crazy, right? Are you gonna bet more sickles with Greengrass for next year?”
Hermione’s face turned slightly pink. “I’m not sorry for betting on you. It seemed highly unlikely you, with your lack of intellect, could survive the summer.”
“Hermione!” Ron exclaimed. “You’re supposed to be the responsible one! Betting with Slytherins? Really?”
“Come off it, Ron. It’s all a bit of fun, isn’t it?” Hermione crossed her arms.
“...yeah. Alright, it is pretty funny. Include me in it next time, though.” Ron smiled.
“I can’t believe you guys.” Harry scoffed. “Anyway, what class do you have next?”
“Defense,” Hermione responded immediately.
“Good luck, you’re going to need it. Have you met Professor Incompetent yet?” Harry asked.
“Saw him earlier at Herbology, he was bragging about himself.” Ron scrunched his nose.
“He’s not incompetent! And he’s done so many brave things, he should be able to talk about them!” Hermione defended Lockhart.
“Not you too, Hermione! He’s got all the Slytherin girls under his spell. I don’t know what you see in that coward.” Harry sighed. “Most of your table is glaring at me, so I’m gonna go now. See you later.” Harry left for the Slytherin table again, and continued to finish his lunch.
Afterwards, Harry, Draco, and Blaise got up to go to the courtyard. Though this was a new year at Hogwarts, the first rules they’d been told by the old Head Girl and Boy still rang true.
“Um- excuse me? Harry Potter?” A small first-year boy approached him. He looked to be extremely scared.
“Yeah?” Harry glared at Draco, who looked like he was about to start insulting the kid.
The boy, Colin Creevy, went on a pretty long rant about how he knew all about Harry, and asked for a picture and autograph. It was sweet, but a bit creepy. And the last thing he needed was people thinking he was giving out autographs now.
“Uh, sorry-” Harry was cut off by the insufferable professor showing up once again.
“What’s all this? Who’s giving out signed photos?” Lockhart winked.
“No one.” Harry rolled his eyes at the man.
“Nonsense! Come on, Mr. Creevy. A double portrait, can’t do better than that, and we’ll both sign it.” Lockhart slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders and the camera clicked.
“I-uh.” Harry glanced backwards. Blaise and Draco were laughing at him. “Sorry, I don’t really do- this.” With that, Harry dragged both his friends behind him quickly away from the professor and fanboy. “Not one word about that,” Harry warned his friends.
~
The rest of the school week went by without incident. They had Lockhart’s class the second day, and he mainly lectured them on his exploits. Hermione and Neville had told him about what he did with the Grryfindor class, and apparently Lockhart had decided that hearing about his stories was enough. There was a ‘quiz’ on Lockhart, consisting of what his favorite color is, ambition, and favorite birthday gift. Harry wrote down bullshit answers because he never even tried to pick up one of his books due to the sheer animosity he held for the professor.
They had potions with the Grryffindors once again, which was just as he remembered. It was entertaining to watch Snape pick on the Gryffindors obviously unfairly, but it was less amusing to be assigned his first detention of the year for that weekend. Snape might give him house points, but it seemed the man still hated him unfairly.
On Friday, there were Quidditch tryouts for Slytherin. Draco had been nagging Harry all week to tryout with him, but Harry was skeptical.
“I don’t even have a broom!” Harry had exclaimed.
“Won’t matter. My father’s making a donation to the team, every player will get a new Nimbus Two Thousand and One. We’re practically shoo-ins for the team, you’d make an amazing Seeker, and I heard Adrian Pucey doesn’t want to play this year. Something about focusing on studying, I believe he almost failed his second year. If you tryout, I’ll let you use one of the new brooms.” Draco had waved away Harry’s concerns.
So, against all his reservations, Harry had tried out for Seeker. And gotten on the team. Draco was ecstatic because he also got on the team. Harry suspected that he would have either way, because his father donated to the team, but he was a good flyer nonetheless.
Saturday of that week, the Slytherin team had gone out to the pitch with a note from Snape saying they were allowed to practice because of their new brooms. Harry was a bit nervous, seeing as the Grryffindor team was already out there, and had booked the pitch. Not to mention, Fred and George were on that team. The Gryffindors flew down to confront them, and Marcus Flint looked proud when Oliver Wood walked up, red in the face.
“What are you doing here, Flint? I booked the pitch today.” Wood scowled.
“There’s room to share, isn't there? I have a note from Professor Snape.” Flint handed the paper over, and Wood looked even more furious.
“But I booked the pitch!”
Flint rolled his eyes and smirked. “I have a new Seeker and Chaser to practice with. And brooms.”
“Seeker and Chaser? Where?” Wood leaned around. Flint stepped to the side to show off Harry and Draco. Harry waved awkwardly at the twins, and Draco smirked.
“Harry. And Lucius Malfoy’s son.” Fred glared.
Wood exhaled. “Well, we have a new Seeker to train too. And I booked the pitch.” Dean Thomas, one of the Gryffindors and apparently the new Seeker, looked off to the side, apparently out of his depth.
The two captains continued to bicker, when Draco exclaimed, “Oh, here comes another Weasley.” Harry looked around to see Hermione and Ron approaching the crowd of Quidditch players.
“What’s going on?” Ron questioned. “Harry and Malfoy? Are you two on the team now?”
Draco looked smug. “We’re just admiring the new brooms my father donated to the team. Good, aren’t they? Perhaps the Gyffindor team could raise some gold and get new brooms, I think a museum would take those Cleansweeps.” Draco scoffed at the brooms the Weasley twins held. The Slytherin team howled with laughter except for Harry, who stood there awkwardly.
“At least they got on with talent, Malfoy,” Hermione snapped. “I don’t think they could say the same for you.”
“No one asked your opinion, you filthy mudblood.” Draco’s face went pink, and he sneered.
Harry knew instantly Draco said something horrible. Though Harry didn’t know the meaning of the words exactly, Fred and George tried to get Draco, and Flint had to block him. A few of the members of the Slytherin team were looking around uncertainly. Alicia Spinnet was yelling, and Ron’s face went bright red in fury. Ron tried to fire a spell at Draco, but it backfired through his obviously broken wand, and hit himself square in the chest. Harry stood there, shocked, as Hermione helped Ron up.
“Ron! Are you alright?” Instead of answering, Ron opened his mouth and threw up a few slugs.
The whole Slytherin team except Harry burst into laughter. A few of them, the Half Bloods, Harry recognised, looked as if their laughter was rather forced. They seemed a bit disturbed at what Draco said.
Fred, George, and Hermione helped Ron up, and decided to take him to Hagrid’s since it was the closest. It looked like the Slytherins were going to take the pitch, but Harry felt horrible and rather queasy and furious. He knew it was useless to stand up to Draco in front of the entire quidditch team, or help his friend, but it still made him feel sick.
Whether God answered his prayers to get him out of practice or this was divine retribution for not standing up for Ron, Dean stalked over and punched Harry in the nose. Dean was yelling something at him, probably what he deserved about being a bad friend or being a ‘dirty Slytherin’, but Harry couldn’t concentrate on him over the throbbing on his face. Blood was pouring down his front, and he nearly fell over from the blow if not for Draco standing next to him.
This whole morning had gone horribly wrong, and what better way to end it then by being escorted to the hospital wing by Draco. Once he was sat down on the bed and given a potion by Madam Pomfrey, she ordered him an hour of ‘bed rest’, which meant an hour sitting there and not doing anything else stupid.
“...Sorry.” Draco sulked. “You getting punched was kind of my fault.”
“Don’t apologise to me.” Harry fumed. “If you want to apologise, go apologise to Ron, and especially Hermione. What did you call her, anyway?”
Draco had the sense to look ashamed. “Mudblood. It’s kind of- a slur for muggleborns.”
“Why the fuck would you say that? That’s disgusting.” Harry bit out. He knew that Draco and a lot of Slytherin house talked about blood purity, but Harry didn’t want to believe that Draco would say something like that. It was the worse side of Slytherin that Harry often ignored, because they didn’t target him. The older students didn’t bother him about being friends with Hermione, probably because he was friends with the Malfoy heir, but he knew that some of them were bigots.
“It’s- I guess I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.” Draco deflated further.
“Don’t apologise if you clearly don’t mean it. Why would you think muggleborns are inferior? They’re human, just like pure bloods.”
Draco looked uneasy. “I don’t want to argue about this.”
“There’s no reason muggleborns are any different than purebloods, and you can’t even think of anything to say about it.” Harry scowled. “Fine. But we’re talking about this later.”
Draco scowled back but didn’t meet Harry’s eyes. They sat the rest of the hour in silence, and when Harry was released from the hospital wing, the two walked to the dungeons to get changed before they ate. They walked to lunch as far apart as possible while still walking ‘together’, and sat on opposite ends of the group.
“Yeesh, what happened to you two?” Blaise only received death glares from Harry and Draco.
Harry tried to catch Hermione and Ron after lunch with Daphne, but it seemed like they were avoiding him. Neville just shrugged at him from across the hall and went up to his dorm.
That night, Harry had detention assigned to him from Snape. When he arrived, however, he found Lockhart talking Snape’s ear off and Snape being close to murder. “Mister Potter, Professor Lockhart has volunteered to take you for detention. You may go with him for today, now get out of my sight the both of you.” Snape almost looked smug and Lockhart dragged Harry out the door.
Detention with Lockhart was akin to torture. Harry was stuck responding to the man’s fanmail for hours, and it was honestly hard to look at. Near the end of detention, however, Harry heard some sort of whispering echo around the room.
“Come… come to me… let me kill you…” Harry’s eyes darted around the room, but the only other person in there was Lockhart.
“What?” Harry questioned.
“Oh, I know! Six solid months at the top of the best seller’s list! Broke the record!” Lockhart said.
“No, I meant- nevermind.” It was obvious that that voice wasn’t Lockhart. But who, and why?
“Oh, look at the time! I’ve kept you here for four hours!” Lockhart let Harry leave with a pat on the shoulder, oblivious to the distress Harry was in.
~
The rest of September and most of October passed fairly quickly. Harry was giving Draco the cold shoulder, aside from the occasional arguments they got into in their dorm room. Despite this, they went to Quidditch practice three times a week despite the heavy rain. Ron was still mad at Harry, despite none of that confrontation being his fault. It was fair, though, because Harry still spent time with Draco, though they mostly ignored each other.
Hermione came around faster to Harry, often sitting in the library with Harry and some toss up of Neville, Daphne, or Blaise. Hermione and Neville wouldn’t hang around if Draco was there, and but they understood that Harry was similarly mad at him. The rest of the Slytherins were awkward to be around, seeing as some of them shared Draco’s ideas. In the second-year common room, it was especially tense. Harry understood that if some of his friends thought this way, it was because of how they were raised, but it didn’t make it any easier to hang out with them knowing Hermione was a muggleborn.
Harry remembered Andromeda’s words to him, about writing to her and asking for advice, so he decided to write a letter. Despite being Draco’s estranged Aunt and being part of the Black family, Harry learned that she had married Ted Tonks, a muggleborn.
Dear Andromeda,
I hope you’re doing well. I’m writing to you because you know I was sorted into Slytherin. And while I do love this house, there are a lot of people who have some horrible ideas of blood purity. One of my friends you might know, Draco Malfoy, and a few others definitely have this idea and I don’t know what to do. I can’t exactly sit there and be friends with them while knowing this, and knowing my other friend is a muggleborn. A month ago, Draco called her a ‘mudblood’, which I’m still giving him the cold shoulder over. How do I explain that their bigoted ideals are horrible, without them giving me shit and excuses? Is that even the right thing to do? I’m just a bit overwhelmed with everything that’s happening here, sorry if I’m bothering you.
Thanks once again,
Harry
Harry sent this letter off with Hedwig to Andromeda a few days before Halloween, and hoped she could get back to him soon. Walking back down the stairs of the owlry, Harry sighed. Everything was a bit odd right now. Not to mention the weird voice he heard in the walls. He told Hermione, and she thought he should look into being prescribed some anti-phychotics. On the walk back to his dorm, Harry ran into Nearly-headless Nick gazing out the window forlornly.
“Oh, Hello.” The ghost greeted Harry. “You seem troubled, young Potter.”
“So do you.” Harry stopped and leaned on the window Nick was gazing out of.
“Ah, it’s nothing. It’s not as if I wanted to join the Headless Hunt, no…Thought I’d apply, but I don’t fulfull the requirements.” Nick seemed like he was trying to convince himself that he didn’t really care. “It’s just that you would think, after getting hit forty five times in the neck with a blunt axe, it would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?”
“Oh–yes.” Harry was feeling out of his depth here.
Nick read him the letter he had gotten that rejected him from the Hunt(apparently ghosts could send letters? Who knew). “So, what’s bothering you? Anything I can do for you?” Nick moved past his own troubles.
“Not unless you know a spell that can make everyone be happy and never fight?” Harry meant it in a joking tone, but Nick seemed to actually think about it. Before the ghost could respond, there was a high-pitched yowl at his ankles. Ms. Norris, Filch’s cat, was circling him, obviously seeing the mud on his shoes from the Owlry and calling for Filch. Harry backed away, but Filch burst out of who-knows-where and caught him.
“Filth! Mess and muck everywhere–I’m sick of it. Follow me, Potter!” Filch led Harry to his office, the last place he wanted to be. The room looked like a medevial torture chamber remodeled into an office without removing the torture devices, with cabinets with locks for confiscated stuff from students. The Weasley twins had two whole drawers to themselves, which sent a pang of guilt to Harry. He hadn’t really talked to the twins since the whole Quidditch practice fiasco, and he felt guilty about it.
Filch sat him down in a moldy and frankly disgusting chair, and starting furiously writing on a note. Filch kept muttering things like ‘Harry Potter’, and ‘crime’, and ‘suggested scentence’, and Harry was starting to get worried. A loud BANG followed by several shattering sounds rung out through the hall, and Filch was off running through the door again. “PEEVES! I’LL GET YOU THIS TIME!”
Harry uncomfortably sat in his chair for a few minutes until Filch came back. He had a feeling running would get himself in even more trouble. Harry looked around the desk a bit, seeing a few letters about beginner magic courses. Panting, Filch dragged himself back to his desk. “Did you see– I mean– just Go– I have to write a report–just go!”
Harry scrambled out of the office, not believing his luck. In the hallway, Nearly Headless Nick and some other student rounded the corner. “Harry! Did it work?”
“That was you?” Harry asked. Nick nodded.
“I convinced Peeves to drop that cabinet so Filch would leave you alone. Of course, it was all dear Luna’s idea.” Nick nodded to the other student following him.
“Oh, thank you.” Harry thanked Luna.
“You’re welcome. Nick is a dear friend of mine, see, so I come to visit him often. I saw him fretting over getting you in trouble, so I offered the solution. I do love spending time with him, because he’s one of the only ones here that can see the wrackspurts. Not many are as enlightened as him.” Luna looked at Nick proudly.
“Well, thank you both.” Harry saw Nick still holding the letter. “Sorry Nick, I wish there was something I could do about the Headless Hunt.”
Nick paused. “There is! I mean, I don’t want to ask too much of you–”
“It’s fine. What is it?” Harry asked.
“Well, this Halloween is my five hundredth deathday,” Nick explained. “I’m holding a party down in the dungeons, in one of the roomier places. It would be such an honor for you to attend. Miss Luna here is going, but I do say you’d rather attend the school feast?”
“Oh, I can come–” Harry quickly responded. He didn’t want to upset the ghost, plus it might be good to get away from all his friends for once.
“Harry Potter! At my deathday party! Do you think you could mention to Sir Patrick how incredibly frightening and impressive I am?” Nick looked elated.
“Yeah– of course.” Harry agreed, and Nick looked like he might faint if he weren’t a ghost.
Notes:
Once again, I'm guilty for introducing Luna three books early purely because she's my fav. I'm not sorry.
Chapter Text
On Halloween night, Harry left the great hall after a few minutes. “I promised Nearly Headless Nick I’d go to his deathday party,” Harry explained. “I’m going with Luna, so don’t worry.”
“You what?” Theo blinked.
Pansy sighed. “You always do the weirdest things that I don’t understand. Go have fun talking to people who died hundreds of years ago, I guess.”
Harry started walking in the direction of the dungeons, and Luna joined him on the walk there. “Ah, Harry. Have you ever been to a deathday party? It’s quite fascinating.”
“Er, no, I haven’t.”
“I always have so much fun at these.” Luna and Harry arrived at the mournful entrance to the room, which was lined with ominous candles. Nick was standing in the doorway, greeting people sadly(or happily, Harry couldn’t tell).
Luna led Harry around the room, and Luna greeted multiple spirits. “You’re very popular in the ghost community, aren’t you?” Harry asked, only half joking.
“I find ghosts to be far more interesting than people. They all have such lovely takes on certain topics,” Luna spoke cryptically.
“To each their own, I guess,” Harry said destractedly, eyes wandering the crowd of ghosts.
Nick popped up beside the two students then, almost making Harry jump. Luna waved at him, and he beamed. “How’re you liking it so far?”
“It’s great.” Harry complimented, unable to say much else. Luna nodded sagely.
“Ah, good. I’m about to make my speech, so I’m going to warn the orchestra–” As if on cue, the orchestra stopped playing, but for a different reason. A giant group of headless horsemen rode into the room through one of the walls, and Harry caught a glare on Nick’s face.
“Nick! How are you? Head still hanging in there?” The front rider greeted Nick, leaping off his horse to pat Nick on the shoulder.
“Welcome, Patrick.” Nick sounded like he was trying to kill Patrick with his words, and if they were both still alive, he surely would have.
“Alive ones!” Patrick pretended to jump back in shock, just for his head to fall off, to Nick’s displeasure.
“Very funny,” Nick muttered.
“Sir Patrick?” Luna smiled at him. “I was just wondering– why won’t you let Nick onto the Headless Hunt?”
Patrick laughed. “Oh my dear child, it’s because he’s headless, of course! Can’t you see?”
“Oh, well, he actually is headless! It was all the wrackspurt’s fault that he isn’t, don’t you see?” Luna stated this like it were obvious. “He was decapitated, but the wrackspurts tried to save him, so they mended part of his neck! You can’t sense their magic? I thought it was obvious. Perhaps you’re just not enlightened enough to sense it.”
“I– that’s not something wrackspurts can do!” Patrick tried to argue with Luna, but a few ghosts around them started to murmur. Soon, the whole room was muttering and glancing at Patrick, and Luna just smiled at him.
“I feel like it would be quite rude to hold Nick to something that he can’t control, can he? Considering he actually is headless?”
Patrick looked around and sighed. “You’re right, young child. Nick, I accept you into the Headless Hunt.” The ghost said this with a look of utter contempt on his face.
Nick absolutely beamed. “Thank you, Patrick! And thank you for clarifying, dear Luna.” Nick winked, and the whole party shouted happily.
“Harry, would you like to go? I’d quite like some pudding.” Luna changed topics suddenly, and Harry nodded, stunned.
“Yeah, let’s head to the great hall.” When they were out of earshot of any ghosts in the room, Harry asked, “Was all that true? How could wrackspurts possibly do that?”
Luna giggled. “Oh, I made all that up. Obviously, wrackspurts can’t heal someone’s neck after they've died, only when they’re still alive. But Nick wanted to join so badly, and I felt sorry for him. One thing ghosts can’t stand is the thought of a living person, especially someone younger than them, having more knowledge than them. So if I bluffed, Patrick felt like he had to agree with me.”
Harry just stared at her. “Luna, you’re a genius.”
“It’s not me who’s the genius. It’s my favorite Wrackspurt, Atlas, who told me about that. Don’t tell the others I said that about him.” Luna whispered the last part.
Harry was going to continue questioning the existence of Wrackspurts when another voice distracted him.
'Rip…tear…kill…'
“Did you hear that?” Harry snapped his head in the direction he heard it, near the wall.
Luna hummed. “I heard a bit of a noise, like air leaking out of a balloon, but no one was speaking.” Harry walked towards the wall where he heard it, and the voice spoke once again.
'So hungry…for so long…time to kill…'
Harry continued following the voice that seemed to echo around inside the walls, and Luna followed after him. The voice was moving away, upward, and the only option it could be was a ghost. How had no one else heard it yet?
“This way!” Harry ran up the closest flight of stairs, not entirely caring if Luna thought he was crazy. (Certainly it would be hypocritical of her to say anything.) The chatter from the Great Hall floated around the hallway, and it was becoming increasingly hard to hear the voice. Running down the hallway, Harry stopped in his tracks. “It’s gone. I can’t hear it anymore.”
Luna pointed at the wall. “It seems your head voice has led us to the scene of a crime.” As the pair got closer, Harry made out words drawn in blood, or paint, on the wall. “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware,” Luna read. Ms. Norris, Filch’s cat, was hanging from the torch bracket near the writing. The cat didn’t seem to be moving, as if frozen in place.
“What the hell?” Harry just stared at the wall. They should probably leave and find a member of the staff, or something, and not be caught next to the possibly dead cat and large threatening text. Before either Harry or Luna could move, though, students started walking their way from the feast.
Students almost immediately surrounded the place and started muttering, glancing at Harry and Luna suspiciously. Draco approached Harry, followed by practically all of their dorm mates, practically radiating confused energy. “What’s going on? ‘Enemies of the heir, beware’?”
“I have no idea.” Harry was still stunned and could only stare at the wall, Draco, and Luna.
Next came Filch running through the crowd, and when he saw Ms. Norris, then Harry, he immediately started blaming him. “You! You must have done this to my cat! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you for this!”
Harry was ready to start running for his life when Dumbledore arrived, finally. “Argus! Come with me! You, too, please, Mr. Potter and Ms. Lovegood.” Harry glanced at Luna, she shrugged at him, and they both followed Dumbledore and his posse of teachers. They ended up in Lockhart’s office, the nearest office; otherwise, no one would have come here willingly. You could tell it was his because of the giant wall of fanmail and awards hung up.
Dumbledore laid Ms. Norris on the desk and stepped back, examining the cat. McGonagall was examining the cat with Dumbledore, Lockhart was fussing with a few candles around the room, Filch was sitting in a chair and sobbing, and Snape was standing in front of the door with a sneer on his face.
While the teachers examined the cat, Harry leaned over to Luna and whispered, “Do you think I need to get some anti-psychotics prescribed?”
“No, I heard something too. It wasn’t a voice, but it sounded like a balloon or a snake. You’re just as sane as I am.” That’s not something you want to hear come out of the mouth of someone who fully believes in Wrackspurts.
“Hmm.” Harry contemplated. “Snake?”
“Yes. Lots of hissing. Atlas agrees with me; he heard it. Perhaps it was a Crumple-Horned Snorkak?” Luna continued to have a conversation with herself about various animals it could have been that Harry isn’t quite sure exist.
Filch was still sobbing, while Lockhart rambled on and on about amulets and vampires and ‘if only I was there, I could’ve prevented this’.
“She’s not dead, Argus,” Dumbledore said.
Lockhart stopped mid ramble just as Filch’s head snapped up. “Not dead? Then why’s she all stiff and frozen?”
Dumbledore stroked his chin. “She’s been petrified, though how, and why, I cannot say…”
“Ask HIM!” Filch yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Harry. Harry raised both hands in a gesture that said, ‘I did nothing, why are you blaming me?’.
“No second year could have done this,” Dumbledore placated the man. “It would take extremely advanced dark magic to accomplish this–”
“He did it, he did it!” Filch was having none of what Dumbledore was saying. “You saw what he wrote on the wall. He found– he knows– that I’m a Squib!”
“I never touched Ms. Norris!” Harry tried to defend himself. “I don’t even know what a Squib is! Luna and I just ran into whatever was on the wall a few seconds before everyone else.”
“If I might speak, Headmaster,” Snape walked forward slightly from where he was standing. “Potter and Lovegood may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Though I do wonder what they were doing in the upstairs corridor, and not at the feast?”
“We were visiting our friend Headless Nick at his deathday party, down in the dungeons,” Luna responded, giving Nick a nickname he probably deserved, after joining the Headless Hunt. “It was such a joyous occasion, he was admitted to the Headless Hunt, have you heard?”
“But why not join the feast afterward?” Snape pressed on, ignoring Luna’s talk of ghosts. “Why go up to that corridor?”
Harry glanced at Luna, but her face gave nothing away. It didn’t seem wise to admit to people that he was hearing voices, let alone Snape and Dumbledore. Even though Snape sort of defended him, it was still obvious that the man hated him. “Luna was going back to her dorm, so I was walking with her. After that, I was going back to find my friends.”
“How considerate of you.” Snape did not sound happy that he couldn’t poke holes in their story. “I hope you’re being entirely truthful with us, because lying about this sort of thing would demonstrate the need for severe punishment.”
Dumbledore seemed to stare at Harry as if he could will him to speak what had truthfully happened. After a moment, he said, “Innocent until proven guilty, Severus. Mr. Potter and Ms. Lovegood have done nothing to make us suspicious of them.”
Filch didn’t seem too happy with this consensus. “My cat has been petrified! Someone needs to be punished!”
“There is a potion that will undo this effect, Argus. Professor Sprout and Professor Snape will be able to brew it, do not worry.” Dumbledore affirmed, and the room went silent. With no one left with anything to complain or argue about, Dumbledore dismissed Luna and Harry.
Almost immediately, Draco, Pansy, Hermione, Neville, and, surprisingly, Ron, came running around the corner. “Oh, thank Merlin Harry, we thought you two were teachers.” Pansy sighed. “We had to scramble away so they wouldn’t see us.”
“You were eavesdropping? All of you?” Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. Especially because Draco and Ron were standing here, not fighting. “Never mind– we should talk somewhere else.”
“Thanks for such an exciting night, but I’ll head up to my dorm.” Luna skipped off, humming to herself.
The rest of them quickly located an empty classroom off the hallway, a good way away from Lockhart’s office, and they all turned to Harry.
“What happened? Is Ms. Norris dead?” Hermione asked uncertainly.
“Unfortunately not,” Harry explained what had gone on with him and Luna, this time including the ominous voice he heard.
“And that wall, with the writing? It said ‘the Chamber of Secrets has been opened’. I remember hearing vague stories about it, but not much. Just that one person was killed. Enemies of the heir? Who could that be?” Pansy speculated.
Draco looked uncomfortable. “I’ve heard about the Chamber of Secrets. It was opened about fifty years ago and hasn’t been opened since. I don’t know what’s in the Chamber, only that the first time it was opened, one person died. And my father… he said that whatever’s in the chamber targets Muggleborns.” Ron scoffed at him, and Draco had the sense to look apologetic.
“I suppose we can look into this later,” Hermione brushed past the awkward conversation. “It’s pretty late anyway, and we should go to bed. I just wanted to make sure Harry was okay.”
“Yeah, see you later, Harry.” Neville waved as the three Gryffindors snuck out of the empty classroom.
Harry turned to Draco and Pansy when they were gone. “Surprised to see you two working with the Grryffindors.”
Pansy shrugged. “Gossip is gossip. Plus, I figured since Greengrass is friends with them, I’d try to be friendly.”
Draco just scoffed. “Needed to make sure you weren’t getting expelled. I could have my father pull some strings, if he needed.”
Harry just rolled his eyes and pushed all thoughts of snakes and expulsion out of his head.
~
Over the next few days, all anyone could talk about was the wall writing and Ms. Norris. Harry was especially peeved because people started avoiding him about this. Apparently, no one outside of Slytherin(apart from Hermione, Ron, and Neville) wanted to be associated with him after this incident.
The good news of the week was that Andromeda had gotten back to him with a letter, and hopefully some good advice. It had been delivered during breakfast on Wednesday, but Harry waited to open it until he could get somewhere less crowded. After classes that day, he collapsed onto the second-year common room couch and pulled out the letter.
“Who could have possibly written you a letter that you’re so excited to read, Potter?” Draco leaned around, trying to get a glimpse, but Harry pushed his face away. “Sod off, Draco. None of your business.” Draco walked away, sulking, only to be dragged off by Greg and Vince to play a card game.
Harry turned his attention back to the letter.
Dear Harry,
This is something that unfortunately happens in Pureblood families. Lots of parents, like mine as well as Draco’s, teach their kids that Purebloods are above Muggleborns. In my experience, I realized this philosophy is false because of Ted. When I got to know Ted, I understood that he was a human, just like me, and he became my best friend and later my husband. Just stick by your friends, but tell them honestly how you feel about it.
I wish you the best of luck,
Andromeda
Harry sighed and put the letter away. He just wished all his friends could make up and get along, but it’s honestly foolish to think that could happen instantly. He just had to wait.
“I need to finish my potions essay. Does anyone want to go to the library with me?” Harry got off the couch, casting his gaze around the room. Draco, Greg, and Vince were focused on a card game across the room, and Blaise was idly flicking a paper ball around a table with his wand.
“Might as well,” Blaise let the paper roll off the side of the table. “Merlin, I hate potions. I don’t care that Snape favors us; his instructions are too complicated.”
“That might be my fault. I can’t follow his instructions too well, and I’m always partnered with you.”
Once Harry and Blaise arrived at the library, they made their way back to their regular table and saw that Hermione and Ron were already sitting there.
“Hey,” Harry sighed as he slid into one of the chairs, Blaise sitting down next to him. “What’cha studying?”
“History of Magic. Hermione already finished hers, but she decided to write an extra two feet of text.” Ron grumbled. Harry glanced over at Ron’s paper to see that the boy had written two lines of text in a fairly big font.
“I can’t believe this.” Hermione was flipping through a book, with several different ones stacked up next to her.
“What, you finally ran out of things to write about in your essay?” Blaise asked sarcastically.
“No, I already finished. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” Hermione closed the book with a thump and set it to the side. “Both of the copies of 'Hogwarts: A History' have been checked out. Everyone wants to read up on the Chamber of Secrets, apparently. I left my copy at home, so I’m out of luck. No other book mentions the Chamber.”
“I tried looking for it a bit, but the only information I found came from Draco, who heard it from his father. That’s a bit concerning, not to mention probably not very factual,” Harry said.
“No wonder it came from Malfoy. He probably knows all about it, or maybe he’s the heir.” Ron gave up on his essay, opting to glare down at the paper instead.
“Draco’s not the heir.” Blaise didn’t look mad, per se, but he did have an intense look on his face. “I know he’s a bit…odd, sometimes, but he doesn’t even know that much about the Chamber. It’s all his father’s knowledge, and he just likes to act knowledgeable.”
“By odd, do you mean calling people slurs and being a git?” Ron spat out.
Blaise glared at him. “I won’t say that isn’t true sometimes, but he really didn’t mean it. I know this doesn’t mean much coming from me, but he obviously shouldn’t say that stuff. Even so, he doesn’t really know the weight of his words. I met his father once, but that man is a crazy blood purist. I’m not saying don’t hold him accountable for his actions, but he just…did what he was taught to do.”
After Blaise’s impromptu speech, the table went silent for a moment. Ron was still glaring at Blaise, but he didn’t say anything. Hermione just sat silently.
A voice from behind broke the silence. “Hello, Harry. It seems you have more Wrackspurts than normal. What’s troubling you?” Luna took a seat across the table from Harry.
“Oh, hi, Luna. It’s just a bit stressful with the whole Ms. Norris situation. Plus, my Potions essay isn’t going to start itself.” Harry glanced at where he still hadn’t started on his paper.
“Oh, Potions isn’t my favorite class either. Professor Snape loves to pick on my potions for no reason whatsoever.” Luna stared off somewhere behind Ron, making him fidget in his seat.
“Um, hi, my name is Hermione.” Hermione introduced herself. “This is Ron, if you didn’t know.”
“I’m Luna.” She smiled at the older girl.
“Um, Luna, why are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course, I’m just wondering.” Harry glanced at her.
“Oh, I’ve been here awhile already. I came to read about Crumple-horned Snorkaks, but I only ended up checking out two books.” Luna pulled the two books out of her bag.
Hermione gasped. “Those are both copies of 'Hogwarts: A History'! Why’d you check out both of them?”
Luna giggled and promptly got up and wandered off, ignoring Hermione’s flabbergasted questions.
~
The next week passed, and there were more rumors about Harry floating around the castle than ghosts. Most said that he was the heir to Slytherin, some said that Draco was, and Harry was helping him, but all of them had come to some shared consensus that Harry hated Muggleborns. This upset Harry tremendously, because not only did everyone avoid him now(besides Slytherin and a few of his friends from other houses), but he could barely hang out with Hermione without people whispering or glaring at him.
The worst thing that came from this week was that whenever he hung out with Hermione and Ron, they always seemed to be glancing at each other, trying to talk without him noticing. When he brought it up, Ron brushed it off as him asking for help with his homework.
Harry had bigger things to worry about than Ron and Hermione acting weird, though. Because Saturday was the first Quidditch match of the year, and to add insult to injury, it was against Gryffindor. Draco dragged Harry around for most of the morning, making sure he ate enough food for breakfast. Soon, far too soon for Harry, Draco had tossed him the dark green robes for Quidditch. After changing into them, Flint gave a quick pep talk(that consisted of more insults to Gryffindor than compliments to Slytherin), and they were out on the pitch.
The match started quickly, and Harry was immediately put on alert by bludgers being thrown in his direction occasionally. He kept dodging, keeping a lookout for the snitch all the while.
Even though Slytherin was winning, Harry’s spirits sank lower and lower. Draco was doing a fantastic job, but it had started to rain harshly. And more bludgers were flying his way than normal. Gryffindor had a right to be mad at him, he supposed, but he never took them as the type to aim all the bludgers at him just to get back at him.
Harry saw a flash of gold, and his broom sped off towards it. He blocked out the sound of the commentator and the rain, and honed in on the small flying ball. Behind him, however, was a rogue bludger. Harry swerved to get rid of it, but it wouldn’t stop following him at an alarming speed. Harry ignored the bludger in favor of catching the snitch. Dean, the Gryffindor Seeker, has noticed him and was also tailing him, about a foot away from the rogue bludger.
The snitch flitted about in the rain, and just as Harry’s fingers closed around the ball, his arm exploded with pain. Recognising that the match was over through the loud swearing of Lee Jordan through the commentator's mic, Harry let the broom lower to the ground.
Clutching his arm, he staggered a few steps on the muddy pitch, rain still pouring from the sky, when Draco and the rest of the team crowded around him.
“We Won! Hey–are you okay?” Draco poked at his arm, and Harry’s face screwed up.
“There was a rogue bludger that I couldn’t shake off, and it rammed my arm.” Harry tried moving his arm, to no avail, through the wave of pain he felt.
He heard Flint yell something, but Harry had passed out. When he came to, the rain had stopped, though it had only been a few minutes. He was still on the pitch, but Lockhart was there.
“Oh, not you…” Harry groaned.
“Poor lad, doesn’t know what he’s saying.” Lockhart tutted. “Don’t you worry, Harry, I’ll patch you right up! I’ve done this spell many times before.” That, in Lockhart's terms, meant he’d never done the spell before and would obviously fuck it up.
“No–” Harry tried to stop him, but Lockhart had already cast. Feeling faint, Harry looked around. Most of the team was standing to the side, a bit concerned but mostly triumphant, and Draco was right next to him. He was, in particular, staring at his arm with an expression of horror.
Harry looked down at it himself. There were no bones left in his arm. That explains the absence of, well, anything that he felt. Harry stood up, however lopsidedly. “Can you uh, help me to the infirmary?”
Draco scoffed. “Oh, silly me. I was about to take you straight back to the common room with all your bones missing.”
Madam Pomfrey had fumed as she worked. “I don't know why that oaf tried to fix it himself. The spell is finicky at best and harmful at worst. At least his incompetence didn’t cost you an arm.” She handed him a potion bottle. “You’ll have to stay the night and re-grow the bones, dear. It’s doable, but painful.” Harry thanked Draco for bringing him and bid him goodnight.
Harry didn’t sleep a wink that night. It’s quite hard to ignore the stabbing pain and odd feeling of having to re-grow every single bone in one of your arms. At some ungodly hour, he’d just given up on sleep, when there was a pop! And none other than Dobby arrived at the foot of his bed.
“What are you doing here?” Harry questioned, still undecided on his feelings about the house-elf.
“Harry Potter! Dobby just wanted to check in, sir. Harry Potter came back to school,” Dobby said miserably. “Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Why didn’t Harry Potter listen? Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his bludger would be enough–”
“Your bludger? You sent that thing after me, to kill me?” Harry half-heartedly glared at the elf.
“Not kill you, sir, never kill you! Keep you safe! Harry Potter is in danger, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open!” Dobby cut himself off with a wide-eyed look of terror. “Dobby has said too much.”
Harry tried a few times to get him to continue, but Dobby wouldn’t budge. After a moment, they heard someone walking into the infirmary, and Dobby poofed out of existence without a trace. Harry closed his eyes and tried to ignore the talking through the thin curtain, but it was no use.
“What happened?” Madam Pomfrey’s voice came into the room.
“It was another attack. On the stairs.” Dumbledore’s voice rang out.
“Petrified.” McGonagall’s voice sounded subdued.
So there was a student who had been petrified. At the very least, he had the alibi of being in the hospital wing, but Harry guessed that most students wouldn’t actually care about any factual evidence and would once again blame it on him.
Harry sighed inaudibly and blocked out the rest of the conversation to try and fall asleep.
Notes:
I love Luna so much, and I try to write her as whimsically as possible :D Really sorry if some scenes feel rushed, tbh I hate writing scenes with either Quidditch or Dobby. Quidditch doesn't make any sense and Dobby speaks wierd so it's so annoying to write.
Also, thanks for 1k hits and all the kudos!!
Chapter 8: What do you Mean you Can't Hear the Snake too?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning, once he was released from the hospital wing, Harry made his way quickly back to the Slythering Second-year common room. Bursting into the room, he found that all of his dorm mates were in the common room, scattered around. When they saw him come in, though, they all swarmed him.
“Harry! Is your arm back to normal?” Pansy strode up to him.
“Yup. All good.” Harry made his way over to the couch and sat next to Theo, Pansy following him. “Though I do have some weird news. Last night, the same house-elf who visited me during the summer came to me and told me that it was he who had directed the bludger at me, trying to get me to go home. Apparently, it’s still ‘too dangerous’ for me here. He also warned me about the Chamber, but wouldn’t elaborate on it.”
“Hmm.” Theo squinted his eyes. “D’you know what the house elf’s name is? Maybe we could locate him.”
“He said it was Dobby.” Harry heard Malfoy gasp from across the room, and he immediately ran over.
“Did you say Dobby? Why didn’t you feel the need to disclose his name to us in the first place?”
Harry shrugged. “Didn’t seem important, why?”
Draco pinched his nose. “Dobby is my house elf! Well, not mine, but he works at Malfoy Manor. Next time I see him, I’ll tell him to stop endangering your life to get you to go home.”
“Don’t…get him in trouble, alright? He means well, I think.” Harry sighed.
“Yeah, I’ll keep him out of trouble for that.” Draco glanced around. “Why does he know about the Chamber of Secrets, though?”
Harry shrugged. “Beats me. Why don’t you ask him? Plus, there are more pressing matters. A student was attacked and was petrified.”
Pansy’s head snapped over. “What?! Who?”
“Colin Creevy, some first-year Gryffindor. He’s tried to take pictures of me a few times.” Harry shrugged. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“At least he’s not dead.” Theo pointed out. “Not that being petrified is good. But still.”
The news of Colin’s petrification spread like wildfire. Everyone looked at Harry with more suspicion than usual, and he was greeted with unkind stares in most places. Still, the Slytherins stuck to him like glue and barely let him out of their sight, so no one had any chance to attack him for his alleged crimes.
This continued all the way into December, and the weather turned into biting cold with no snow. Snape had asked everyone who was staying for the holidays to sign a sheet at his desk one day in potions, and surprisingly, Draco, Daphne, Millicent, Vince, and Greg were all staying for the holidays. Draco told them that his family was doing important business and he’d rather just stay here. Millicent’s family was travelling to America, and she didn’t want to go. Daphne’s parents and sister were visiting cousins in France, and Vince and Greg decided to stay and hang out with Draco.
Walking back from Potions, there was a crowd around the notice board in the entrance hall. The Slytherins approached and saw a poster for a Duelling club.
“Oh, reckon we should go?” Draco smirked. “I’ll have a great time hexing Blaise’s arse off.”
“I suppose it could be useful.” Harry agreed dubiously, ignoring Blaise’s shout of ‘hey!’.
That evening, the second year Slytherins gathered, along with the rest of the school, in the Great Hall. The tables had been cleared, and most stood holding their wands and looking excited.
“I swear, if that useless fuck is here–” Harry cut off his statement as the useless fuck in question, Lockhart, stepped onto the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen! So glad you could make it!” Lockhart announced. He immediately started bragging to no one’s surprise. “I was granted permission to start this club so you could all learn to defend yourself! I hope you can learn how to defend yourself as I have on countless occasions– as I wrote in my latest book, Voyages with Vampires! Now, let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape!”
Snape stepped onto the stage with a sneer on his face, probably not happy to be introduced as an ‘assistant’.
“He agreed to help me demonstrate before we begin. Now, don’t worry, you’ll still have your potions master when I’m done, never fear!” The two started explaining the rules of a duel, and once they started their practice duel, Snape immediately flung Lockhart back into the wall behind him. A good chunk of students cheered when he sprawled on the ground, including Harry. Lockhart stammered out an excuse and distracted everyone by announcing he would be choosing pairs of students to practice together.
Lockhart and Snape made their way around, and Snape arrived at Harry. “Mister Potter, and let’s see, Mister Zabini. Do stay out of trouble.” Snape moved onto another group nearby, and called over, “Mister Malfoy, come over here and pair with Weasley. Miss Bulstrode, with Granger.”
Harry shrugged at Hermione and Ron and turned to Blaise to start the practice.
“Turn to your partner, and on the count of three, disarm, and disarm only! We don’t want any accidents, now do we?” Lockhart called out to everyone. “1, 2, 3!” Blaise and Harry both disarmed each other at the same time. “I said disarming spells only!” Harry turned to see that Draco was hit by some sort of laughing charm, and he retaliated by casting a spell that had spiders crawling all over Ron’s shoes. Ron screamed, and the two were only broken up by Snape casting a counter-spell at each of them. Harry had no idea what happened with everyone else, but the room was in a bit of chaos. Neville had crashed backwards, Hermione and Millicent were in a physical altercation, and multiple other people had inadvertently caused harm to their partners.
“Perhaps a demonstration is in order?” Lockhart picked a random group. “Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley?”
“Bad Idea, Professor.” Snape’s condescending tone was cold. “Longbottom can’t cast the simplest of spells. Perhaps Weasley and Malfoy?”
Lockhart clapped his hands. “Of course! I was about to suggest that! Up here on the stage now, you two.”
Draco and Ron glowered at each other, and sulkily made their way up the stage. Snape whispered something in Draco’s ear that made him glance back at the professor while Lockhart waved his wand haphazardly and told Ron to copy it. The duel started immediately by Draco casting ‘Serpensortia!’, and a giant snake appearing on the stage.
It slithered menacingly up to Ron, and Snape remarked lazily, “Don’t move, Weasley. I’ll get it.” He looked in no hurry to do so. The snake reared back to bite, and Harry, pretty close to Ron, yelled at the snake, “Leave him alone!”
To all of Harry’s stupid ideas, this one takes the cake. But, miraculously, the snake stopped moving. Everyone else did too, and just stared at him. Harry cleared his throat, embarrassed. The snake backed up docilely, and Blaise facepalmed next to him. Everyone erupted into chatter, mostly pointed at him, but Blaise grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him from the Great Hall.
Once they were a ways away from the entrance, Harry turned around to see Ron and Draco following them. “Seems like we keep having weird discussions in random hallways this year,” Harry commented.
“You’re a Parslemouth? Why didn’t you tell us?” Draco hissed at him.
“Are you sure you’re not the heir? Because these are very heir things to do.” Blaise rolled his eyes.
“Thanks for that.” Ron glared at Malfoy. “'Cause someone set a giant snake on me.”
“I’m– I’m sorry.” Draco looked away. “I didn’t think— well, I did, but Snape told me to cast that. So. Sorry.”
Ron just stared at Draco, mouth agape at the fact that Malfoy had actually apologized.
“Um, let’s get back to the topic. Parslemouth??” Blaise asked.
“What?” Harry had no clue what he was talking about.
Blaise closed his eyes and breathed in for a second, as if he were talking to an extremely slow toddler. “Parslemouth. When you can speak to snakes. It’s normally a very rare trait.”
“Oh. Did I do that? Didn’t notice. Does it matter?” Harry shrugged, and this time, Ron and Draco facepalmed.
“Yeah, it matters. It’s a trait that’s linked to Salazar Slytherin. As in the heir to Slytherin.” Ron said.
This complicates things.
~
In another horrible twist of fate, two days later, Harry was the first one to find another petrified student, again. He was walking with Theo down a deserted hallway because their Herbology class was cancelled due to snow. They ran into Justin Finch-Fletchley, one of the people that Harry knew despised him, petrified on the floor. Nearly Headless Nick was also petrified, which is odd, seeing as he’s a ghost.
Peeves, of course, started screaming about attacks, and every classroom down the hall opened, and students poured out. McGonagall came out swiftly, scolding her students and forcing them back inside the classroom. She herded the two Slytherins down the hall, saying, “This way, Potter, Nott.” She led them directly to Dumbledore’s office, which Harry recognised from when Andromeda brought him to school at the beginning of the year. The password had changed, but the doorway and stairs still looked as regal as ever.
McGonagall had the two boys step inside the room and stay there a moment, while McGonagall presumably went off to fetch Dumbledore.
Theo glanced at him a moment, seemed to come to a decision, and promptly started to snoop around the office. Harry rolled his eyes, but the Sorting Hat had caught his eye on one of the shelves. Harry poked at it, and the hat seemed to speak into his mind, like the first time he saw it.
“Troubled, Harry Potter?”
“Er– I mean, I was just wondering if you know if you put me in the right house,” Harry murmured, his voice low enough that Theo didn’t catch what he said. The other boy was too busy poking at a jar of spiders near the door.
“I meant what I told you. You’ll grow well in Slytherin and achieve greatness.” The hat fell limp, and Harry scoffed at the item. He wandered over to Theo, eyeing the spiders, as a squawking noise came from the opposite side of the room. There was a fiery bird, a phoenix, that was squawking and making odd noises. It promptly keeled over, screeching and crumbling into a pile of dust.
Harry gaped, and the office door opened to reveal Dumbledore. “Um, your bird…” Theo just pointed at the pile of ashes in a cage.
Dumbledore chuckled. “He’s a phoenix, so he’ll be reborn from the ashes.” He took on a more serious tone. “Now, I don’t believe that either of you is to blame for any of this, but I do have a question to ask. Is there anything you would like to tell me?” Dumbledore eyed Harry, looking like he was wishing he was asking Harry, and only Harry.
“No, sir.” Harry and Theo chorused, and Dumbledore dismissed them, suppressing a sigh.
The holiday break was coming up soon, and Hermione and Ron had informed him that they were staying for the holidays, as well as Ron’s three brothers and younger sister. Harry still felt guilty at the thought of Fred and George, especially because he hadn’t talked to them all year. So when Harry ran into them the weekend before holiday break, he felt the need to try to talk to them.
“Fred, George, hold on,” Harry called after them awkwardly. “Um, shit, this is embarrassing. I wanted to apologise for the whole Quidditch thing, as well as the fact that it looked like I attacked your brother at the Duelling Club. I was trying to save him, well, that’s not the point.”
Fred frowned. “I don’t think we associate with dark wizards, do we, George?”
George scowled. “Especially not heirs to Slytherin.”
“Undoubtedly.”
Harry frowned, and after a split second, the twins burst out in laughter.
“It’s all good, Harry!”
“Water under the bridge.”
“We don’t actually think you could be the heir to Slytherin!”
“Yeah, as if you disliked muggleborns!”
Fred and George alternated sentences and smirked at Harry. “But we would accept you resigning from the Slytherin Quidditch team as an apology.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Sorry, guys, maybe next year. I’m going to play through this year, but if I play next year really depends on which life-or-death situation I’m put in at the end of the year.”
Fred glanced at George, or perhaps vice versa.
“And please don’t orchestrate my near-death experience because I said that. I like it to be authentic,” Harry said.
“Alright. Are you still up for a chess tournament this year, then?” George asked.
“Oh yeah, don’t worry. I’ve been practicing.” Harry turned around to go. “Guess I’ll see ya during break then!”
~
As the holiday break started, Harry noticed Hermione and Ron acting even stranger than normal. When Harry had asked Neville on the last day, he just sighed and asked to leave him out of it. Hermione and Ron still wouldn’t give it up, just opting to skirt past the issue.
Over break, Harry was having the best holiday break ever. He spent most of his time either hanging out with Draco, Vince, Greg, Daphne, and Millicent in their common room, in the Great Hall with the Weasleys plus Hermione, or some mix of the groups outside in the snow. Daphne and Millicent had dragged him into a ‘girls night’ once, which they only included him in so they could hear what gossip he got from the Gryffindors.
Christmas morning, he was woken up by Draco ripping his blanket off him. “Oi Potter! Wake up, it’s Christmas! Well, I don’t celebrate Christmas, but it’s the spirit either way.”
“You don’t celebrate Christmas?” Harry questioned, getting out of bed only to wrap himself in his blanket at the foot of his bed, next to a pile of presents.
“No, lots of wizarding families celebrate Yule, or the Solstice, instead. Christmas is mainly a Muggle thing, but since Hogwarts has a lot of Muggle ties, they like to celebrate it by decorating.” Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s only a few days off, so it doesn’t matter too much, anyway. Open your presents, you prick.”
Harry received an odd assortment of items from everyone. There was a toothpick from the Dursleys(that doesn’t count), a book on quidditch from Ron, a fancy quill from Hermione, a sweater from Miss Weasley(once again, he isn’t quite sure how he got on that list), a fancy(possibly magic) hair product from Pansy, a book on wizarding etiquette from Draco(not so subtle hint), assorted chocolate from Theo, a magic camera from Daphne, a set of spell-checking quills from Blaise, a small fake potted plant that tells the weather from Neville, and surprisingly, a pair of vibrant colored glasses from Luna.
Harry spent Christmas day in a snowball match with the Weasley twins, Ron, and Hermione. After dinner, he, Draco, and Daphne headed back to the Slytherin common room. Millicent said that she missed her family and was going to firecall them, so the three of them migrated out into the larger common room for the whole house.
“Where do you think Vince and Greg wandered off to?” Harry idly tossed his wand up into the air.
“Dunno. I’ll go find them, they probably got lost on their way to the common room again.” Draco snickered. Earlier in the year, the two had gotten lost in the dungeons, and no one had let them live it down.
While Draco was gone, Harry was incredibly bored. There was only so much to do before finishing your homework, and Harry was putting that off until tomorrow.
Five or so minutes later, Draco strode in followed by Vince and Greg. “Seriously, those passwords are getting out of hand. Pureblood– it’s ridiculous! I know I am one and all, but only half the house is!” Draco flopped back down on his chair. “Oh, Vince, Greg– don’t go to the second-year common room yet. Millicent is firecalling her family.”
Vince grunted. The two stood at the threshold of the common room, looking slightly bewildered, so Draco beckoned them over impatiently. “Are you two gonna stand there all day?”
Greg quickly sat down on the chair opposite Draco, and Vince sat down next to Greg.
“All I’ll say is that I told you so.” Harry hummed from where he’d draped himself sideways across the chair. “About the password. I complained to Mary, the prefect, but she laughed at me.”
“Ugh. Mary is the worst.” Daphne rolled her eyes. “She gossips about the third and fourth years all the time, and she probably gossips about us, too.”
“Imagine she’s the heir.” Harry continued to toss his wand in the air. “It would be so sick to get her expelled. Or Warrington, he has the whole vibe going on.”
Draco scowled. “Stop betting on people you think the heir is. Although if we’re placing bets… count me on Pucey. He dropped out of Quidditch, after all.”
“It’s not funny. I know you two have the whole ‘the thought of me dying is hilarious’ thing going, but everyone is seriously scared for their lives, even the purebloods.” Daphne scrunched her nose. “I’m just glad this isn’t my sister’s first year here. Hopefully, it will be resolved before next year.”
Harry scoffed. “I don’t have that vibe. I just think that if I’m destined to die in this goddamned school with Dumbledore breathing down my neck about ‘the truth’ and ‘the power of love’, I better have some fun with it. But yeah, it would be shitty if someone was the heir, even if they’re rude.”
Vince jumped up suddenly, running out the door and saying something about ‘stomach medicine’, with Greg following close behind.
“Huh. Those two sure are odd today.” Draco stretched. “We’ve given Millicent enough time. I’m going to bed now.”
Notes:
Can you guess what's going on with Vince and Greg? :D
Also, in this fic, Slytherin house is still scared of the petrifications. Even though it seems to be only muggleborns, I feel it's only natural to be afraid of a monster roaming around the school. Idk if this was a thing in the book, but it's canon to this fic that there are Muggleborns and halfbloods in Slytherin too. Staying a 'pureblood' is harder and harder, and basically the only way to continue is with inbreeding :/ so yeah
Chapter Text
“You what?!” Harry was talking to Hermione, Neville, and Ron after the new term started. “That was you? The Vince and Greg thing? We just thought they were going crazy, but you brewed a Polyjuice potion and impersonated them?!”
Neville raised his hands. “Hey, I was not a part of this. I asked them to leave me out of it.”
Hermione sighed. “We’re really sorry, Harry, but we had to confirm for ourselves that the heir wasn’t Malfoy. Or you, I suppose.”
“Sorry,” Ron added on, shrugging apologetically. “But know now that we fully believe that it’s not you or Malfoy, or Greengrass.”
Harry just sighed. “I don’t blame you, I suppose. It’s just crazy to me that Hermione, of all people, would do something that would get her expelled if she were caught.”
“Don’t look at me! I prioritize the safety of our student body over the rules, sometimes.”
Ron snorted. “That’s rich coming from Miss ‘we could die, or worse, be expelled’!”
Hermione’s face heated up. “Shut up!” She was spared any more teasing by their hearing an echoing voice down the hall.
“--this is the last straw! I will not be mopping all night, no, I’m taking this to Dumbledore!” The echoing voice of Filch retreated, and the three Gryffindors and one Slytherin glanced at each other before heading towards where the voice came from.
They arrived at the old scene where Ms. Norris was found, as well as the whole hallway floor being flooded with shallow water. “Yikes, what happened here?” Harry wondered aloud.
“This is near Myrtle’s bathroom!” Hermione walked off a bit farther down the hall to find a door, already open, with the wails of a ghost coming from inside. “Come on then!” Hermione walked inside, followed by Ron, but Neville and Harry stopped outside.
“Why are we going inside a girls’ toilet?” Neville questioned.
“Oh, no one comes here anymore. This is where we brewed the potion, and not once has anyone ever followed us.” Hermione tugged both boys by the arm, and they followed her in.
The floor of the bathroom was flooded, with at least one inch of water everywhere. The ghost, Myrtle, was wailing from her usual stall, as Hermione informed them. “Who’s that?!” The ghost shrieked, hearing people approaching. “Come to throw something else at me?”
“Who’s throwing stuff at you, Myrtle?” Hermione asked.
“Wouldn’t it just go through you?” Harry asked. She didn’t respond, as Myrtle was too busy crying harder.
“Let’s all throw books at Myrtle! She can’t feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach, fifty points if you can get it through her head! Ha ha, such a funny game!”
“Who threw a book at you?” Neville asked.
“I was just sitting here, and a book came flying through my head! It’s over there…” She motioned to the corner it had washed into.
Harry went to pick it up, but Ron stopped him. “Are you crazy? It could be dangerous!”
“How dangerous could it possibly be? It’s a book.” Harry rolled his eyes.
“My dad works at the ministry, and he’s told me about all sorts of dangerous books! Some can burn your eyes, or give you boils, or cast curses on you… Well, you get the idea.”
“We won’t know if we don’t find out!” Harry ducked and grabbed the journal, ignoring Ron’s squawk of discouragement. “Huh, would you look at that. A normal journal, ‘property of T.M Riddle’.” He read the last part off the cover. “He never even wrote anything in it.”
“I recognise that name! He did a good service to the school around fifty years ago!” Ron studied the book over Harry’s shoulder. “Filch made me scrub all the trophies down for hours, so I recognise most of the names. Wonder why his journal’s still around here?”
Neville sighed. “It seems like nothing important. Can we please work on Potions now? I need to finish my essay by Wednesday, and I haven’t started…”
Harry agreed to do homework with them, pocketing the journal just in case.
~
Harry forgot about the journal in his pocket until well into February. On Valentine’s Day, Lockhart had taken liberties to arrange for little trolls to carry around Valentine’s cards to deliver, and Harry was taking no chances.
At breakfast, when Lockhart announced this, Blaise had elbowed him. “I just know there’s going to be a horde of them chasing you around all day.”
“You better not be serious,” Harry grumbled.
“No, he’s right,” Pansy smirked at him. “Even though people are suspicious of you being the heir, it doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re basically famous, and some might think you’re cute.” She made a fake gagging face at that.
“I think I’m feeling rather under the weather today, guys.” Harry stood up. “Bring my condolences to the Professors, but I don’t think we’ll be learning much anyway.” Draco and Blaise just laughed as he stalked back to their common room.
Even though Harry would never normally skip class, he felt that today it was well worth it. He spent most of the time finishing his extra homework anyway, and after going back to the Great Hall to eat lunch, then escaping before a Professor could make him go to class, he sat in his dorm with the Diary on the bed in front of him.
The diary he’d forgotten about for nearly a month was still a complete mystery as to why it was in the bathroom at all.
He had searched it with spells and looked over the pages multiple times, but there just wasn’t anything on it. But it wasn’t until Harry tried to write in it that anything happened. He wrote the most basic sentence he could think of, ‘My name is Harry Potter’, and it sank into the page without a trace.
Harry waited with baited breath for something to happen, and after a moment, a new text appeared that he hadn’t written.
‘Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How is it that you came across my diary?’
Harry’s mouth went dry. Logically, he should put the journal away and wait to tell his friends about it. If this journal could speak, it would probably be magical, which meant it could be dangerous. But Harry's mind was tugging him to discover more, write more, so he did.
‘Someone threw this journal away,’ he wrote.
‘Lucky that this journal is recorded in more ways than ink. I always knew there would be people who wouldn’t want my journal around.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This diary holds memories of terrible things. The knowledge in this book is powerful, yet some say it’s terrible.’
‘Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets, then?’ Harry wrote, heart hammering.
‘Of course I do. In my day, it was known as an old legend, and we were told it didn’t exist. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened, and the monster inside killed a student, a Muggleborn. I caught the person who opened the chamber, and they were expelled. But the Headmaster at the time didn’t want this news getting out, so he covered up the death, gave me a shiny trophy, and forbade me from telling the truth.’
‘That’s happening here, now. The Chamber has been opened again. Do you know who it might be?’
‘I can show you who it was the first time. I can take you back inside my memory to the night I caught him.’ Before Harry could rethink this, his vision faded, and he came to stand in Dumbledore’s office.
The man who stood behind the desk was definitely not Dumbledore; it was probably the last Headmaster. He was reading a letter, and he didn’t even glance up at Harry. Though he approached, Harry seemed like no more than a spectator, unable to talk to anyone in this memory. A boy entered the room. He looked older than Harry, with black hair and a prefect’s badge.
“Ah, Riddle.” The Headmaster greeted the boy.
“You wanted to see me, Sir?” The boy fidgeted.
“Sit down. It’s just about the letter you sent me.” The Headmaster continued to talk to the boy about not being able to stay at the school over the summer, the attacks, and even the talk of Hogwarts shutting down.
“Sir– if the person doing this was caught–if they stopped–”
“Do you know something of the attacks?” The Headmaster looked sharply at the boy.
“No, Sir.” Harry recognised the tone of voice the boy used; it was the same tone he’d answer Dumbledore with when he obviously knew something, but didn’t want to answer.
“You may go, Tom.” The Headmaster dismissed him, and Harry followed the boy down the stairs and around the dungeons, as if the boy was waiting for someone to pass by. A tall figure went by, and Riddle, waiting in an empty classroom, slipped out the follow.
“It’s over, Rubeus.” Riddle stopped the tall student, whom Harry recognised as a young Hagrid. “I’m going to have to turn you in. The attacks have to stop. I’m sure you didn’t mean to kill anyone, of course, but–”
Hagrin stepped in front of a dark shape, something Harry couldn’t quite make out. “He didn’t kill anyone!” He protested.
“Stand aside.” Riddle pulled out his wand and approached. Just as he got close enough, the dark shape leaped out at him, mowing Riddle over and skuttling down the hall. Riddle tried to chase after it, but it had disappeared.
Harry was thrown out of the memory abruptly, sitting up as Draco and Blaise stomped into the dorm.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t come to class today. There were at least five different trolls everywhere looking for you, and one even came for Draco. It sang him a poem.” Blaise snickered as Draco face-planted into his bed, groaning.
“Got any homework for me?” Harry pushed the journal under his sheet and all thoughts of that interaction out of his mind. Though he ought to tell his friends, something in his mind was urging him to keep it a secret.
“Oh, not much. Most teachers gave up trying to teach after the tenth troll burst through the doors looking for someone.” Blaise handed him a page of notes. “Flitwick had to charm the door locked, and they still got in.”
Harry laughed and tried to erase all thoughts of the journal from his mind for now.
~
Harry asked the journal a few different times about the Chamber of Secrets, but he didn’t get much of an answer. Even though Riddle had told him it was Hagrid the first time, Harry didn’t say anything to his friends. In all honesty, Harry was skeptical of the information given to him, and seeing as no one had been petrified for months, it wasn’t a pressing matter at the moment.
That’s what Harry thought, at least, until sometime mid-March, when another person had been petrified. He’d slept horribly and was still asleep when most people got up, so he didn’t hear about it until Theo ran into the dorm, shaking Harry awake.
“Harry! Wake up! Draco’s been found petrified!” Harry shot up, wide awake and forgetting his grogginess.
“Draco? What happened? I thought only muggleborns were being targeted?” Harry threw on some clothes that weren’t his pajamas, hastily, and scrambled out the door. Pansy had been waiting in the common room for them, so when he ran through, she followed them out.
“I don’t know what happened! Pansy and I were out walking to breakfast early, but– we saw him, found a teacher, and came to tell the rest of our dorm mates.” Theo told Harry what happened as they made a beeline to the hospital wing. “The rest of them were already at breakfast by then, so Pansy told them.”
At the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey let them in with little persuading. Sure enough, Draco had been petrified and was lying on a closed-off bed, similar to the other cases.
“I’m just– confused. How did this even happen?” Harry stared down at the prone figure.
“Maybe the monster doesn’t even have someone commanding it,” Pansy suggested half-heartedly. “Because it would just be stupid for the heir to petrify a Malfoy. They're the most pureblooded family to exist in Britain. His father could do serious damage to the school if he chose to, especially since his son was petrified.”
Snape and Dumbledore entered the infirmary, seeing that the three Slytherins were already there. “Ah, Harry, Nott, Parkinson,” Dumbledore greeted them. “You already heard of young Malfoy’s state.”
Theo nodded. “Yeah, we just came to see.” He obviously didn’t like Dumbledore either, the way he stiffened. “We should go to breakfast.”
Pansy and Harry nodded and walked out of the infirmary. On the way to the Great Hall, they ran into Blaise. “Oh, did you guys already see Draco? Is he okay?”
“Well, apart from being petrified, yeah.” Harry sassed.
“I just meant– yeah, that was a stupid question.” Blaise sighed. “Drat. Now we need to find out what the monster is and who the heir is. Because as soon as everyone hears about this, the school is going to descend into chaos again.”
The school was, predictably, already in chaos when they arrived at breakfast. Somehow, everyone already knew about Draco’s petrification, and lots of purebloods and halfbloods were freaking out just as hard as the muggleborns this time. Even Slytherins, who were more unbothered the first time, were whispering furiously and glancing around. Apparently, it was the consensus that if Draco Malfoy, the heir to one of the most prestigious and ‘pure’ bloodlines in the wizarding world, wasn’t safe, no one was.
This paranoia didn’t lessen throughout the day, and though the teachers tried to calm everyone down, nothing they could say could change the circumstances.
In fact, the paranoia lasted all the way through April, and in that month of time, no one else had been petrified, but it didn’t stop anyone else from worrying. That whole month, Harry and his friends searched relentlessly for what the monster could be, to no avail.
“I can’t believe that there are still multiple things that the monster could be. We’ve narrowed it down to like ten different creatures, but there’s no saying which one it is, or if it’s even any of these.” Blaise sighed. They were all in the library again, researching different creatures that have the ability to petrify people. “Half of these aren’t proven to exist, and the other half seem too large to fit in the school.”
“What are you looking for?” Luna walked up behind Blaise silently, making him jump.
“What the monster in the chamber could be,” Harry responded.
“Really? I’ll let you know if I see it.” Luna hummed.
“I think if you saw it, you’d be petrified, Luna.” Theo raised an eyebrow at her.
“Have you seen Ginerva recently?” Luna continued, ignoring Theo.
“Who?” Harry asked. “Oh, do you mean Ginny Weasley?”
“Yes. I heard that she tried to break into Slytherin House, but she was acting erratically and had to be taken to the hospital wing.”
“She what?!” Harry exclaimed. “When?”
“I heard Percy and Ronald talking about it a few minutes ago, walking towards the hospital wing. I think it just happened.”
“I hope she’s okay,” Harry said.
“Why was she trying to break into Slytherin?” Blaise thumped his head on the table. “Ugh, this is so infuriating. Wait– Harry, don’t you have a Quidditch game to get to?”
Harry scrambled up. “Shit, I totally lost track of time. I have to go get my stuff. Draco is usually the one dragging me to Quidditch practice.” Since Draco was petrified, they had Adrian Pucey stand in for him.
Harry jogged down to the dungeons to collect his things and change quickly. He blinked, and he was walking down the hall near the library.
Harry stopped in his tracks. Did he space out? Why didn’t he have his Quidditch robes on? He was going to be late to the game. Turning around to go back down to the dungeons, he walked back the way he came.
After he turned a corner, though, he stopped in his tracks. Hermione was standing there, frozen, holding a mirror. A few steps away from her, a taller Ravenclaw girl was also looking into the mirror, frozen.
Harry walked swiftly down the hall to where he knew Professor McGonagall’s office was located. He didn’t even need to walk the whole way, because halfway to the office, he ran into her.
“Potter, what are you doing here? Don’t you have a Quidditch match to play at?” McGonagall squinted her eyes at him.
“Professor, two more students have been petrified! I saw them near the library, and I was coming to find someone.” Harry informed McGonagall, and he followed her as she walked swiftly down the hall towards Hermione.
“Oh dear, I’m going to take them to Madam Pomfrey, you may come with me if you wish. The Quidditch match will be cancelled, so no need to go running off to the pitch.” Harry followed McGonagall as she levitated the two girls to the infirmary. “Would you please return to your dorm? I need to go cancel the Quidditch match, and I will be sending the rest of the students to their dorms, for safety reasons.”
The new rules set in place for students were restricting, sure, but no one really minded over the paranoia that was coming back full-force. Penelope Clearwater, the other petrified student, was a half blood, so everyone was scared.
Another big change around the school was that Dumbledore was gone. Apparently, Lucius Malfoy and Cornelius Fudge had suspended his job as Headmaster, due to the attacks not stopping. A few students reported seeing Lucius Malfoy storming off campus with Fudge, probably put in a mood because his son was petrified.
The days crawled by slowly. Harry was in low spirits, particularly because two of his best friends were petrified. Professor Sprout had informed the student body that the mandrakes were fully matured, and all the people petrified would be returned to normal that night. The worst thing to come out of this, though, was that they still had exams scheduled. When Hermione came back, she’d probably die from shock.
That morning, though, Harry left the Great Hall to use the bathroom, and his vision faded. Harry blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t Harry anymore. He was Tom Riddle.
‘It’s about time,’ Tom thought gleefully.
~
Theo noticed, as the Slytherin second years walked out of the Great Hall to their first class of the day, Harry wasn’t with them. That in itself was concerning, but what was even more concerning was that as they passed the original graffiti written next to Ms. Norris, there was separate, new text written on the wall.
‘His skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.’ Several of the groups passing the wall gasped as they noticed the text, and like the first time a petrification was discovered, McGonagall and Snape pushed through the throng of students that stopped to stare.
The two teachers exchanged glances, horror growing on McGonagall’s face. She put a wand to her throat and magically magnified her voice so it could be heard across campus.
“All students, please return to your House dormitories at once. All teachers report to the staff room immediately, please.” McGonagall and Snape rushed off, and students started to hurry frantically to their dorms.
Theo turned to Blaise. “Why do I have the feeling that text is referring to Harry?”
Blaise’s eyes widened as he turned in a circle, looking for the missing boy. “Oh, shit. I totally missed that he was gone.”
Tracy fidgeted with her fingers nervously. “Could he have headed back to the dormitory already?”
Theo sighed. “Unfortunately, I feel like he’s in danger.”
“Well, what’s it going to be? Try to find the un-findable chamber and save Harry from a monster that we don’t know anything about, or go back to our dorms?” Pansy said this like there was an obvious choice, but Blaise looked like he was thinking hard.
“There’s no such thing as something unfindable.” Luna, once again, snuck up on them all.
“Merlin! Stop doing that!” Blaise jumped.
“I know someone who knows where the Chamber is. Do you want to save Harry?” This was the most serious Theo had ever seen Luna.
Theo sighed. “If I’m doomed to die a horrible death, I suppose it’s only right I die trying to save Harry. I owe him for last year, after all.”
Millicent made a face. “Yeah, pass on my condolences. I don’t think he needs all of us to go save him.”
“Yeah, Theo and I can go. The rest of you can head back to the common room.” Blaise said.
“Now, hold on! You’re not leaving me out of the cool stuff again!” Pansy crossed her arms. “I’m coming with you. I know my defensive spells better than any of you.”
“I thought you were against going on hare-brained rescue missions?” Blaise smirked.
“Oh, shut up. Let’s just go find him.” Pansy flushed and turned to follow Luna.
Before any teachers could stop them, Theo, Pansy, and Blaise followed Luna to the girls’ toilet that was nearby.
“Are you deadass? The girls’ toilet?” Blaise scowled, but didn’t complain further.
Luna didn’t respond, instead heading inside and making a beeline for a specific stall. The rest of them followed, albeit skeptically.
“Myrtle?” Luna called.
“Oh no…” Pansy groaned.
“Luna! Good to see you!” Myrtle flicked the door open and smiled at Luna.
“I was wondering, Myrtle… how did you die?” Luna asked.
Myrtle’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it was wonderful. I was in the bathroom crying, and I heard a boy speaking in a different language. I was curious, so I peeked out of the stall. Then I died.”
“Did you see someone?” Luna asked another question.
“I don’t know… all I know is that I made eye contact with these big yellow eyes, and I died.” Myrtle giggled.
“Ah, just as I thought. A basilisk.” Luna hummed to herself.
“A what?” Blaise questioned.
“A Basilisk. I put it together after Hermione showed up at the hospital wing with a mirror. Basilisks can petrify people if they look through a reflection or translucent object. Otherwise, their stare is a killing one.” Luna explained. “Just like the Common Uimalec, but I ruled that out because the Wrackspurts would have told me if one of those was here. Myrtle, where did you see the eyes?”
Myrtle pointed over near the sink. “Somewhere over there.”
The group moved over to the sink, looking around, until Pansy pointed out a snake engraved on the tap.
“Oh, don’t tell me we need Parsletongue to open it?” Blaise groaned. “Since it’s the opening to the heir’s chamber, and all.”
“I don’t suppose any of you know Parsletongue?” Pansy sounded resigned.
“Hmm. I bet I could replicate the sound.” Luna approached the tap and started hissing oddly. After about 3 minutes of this, however, the sink lit up and sank down, exposing a large pipe leading down.
“How in Merlin’s name did you do that?” Pansy asked.
Luna shrugged. “I’ve been hearing the snake in the walls for a while this year. You just have to hiss while trying to speak English, and it’s a good replica.”
“Well, who’s going down first?” Theo scrunched his nose. “Not it!”
“Not it!” Pansy called, only a second after.
“It’s okay, I’ll go. It’s like a Muggle water park.” Luna patted Blaise on the shoulder.
“I don’t think this is at all like a Muggle water park,” Theo protested, but Luna ignored him in favor of jumping down.
Pansy pushed Blaise in next, then slid down after. Theo sighed, then entered after Pansy. The pipe twisted multiple directions before spitting him out in a damp chamber. Pansy and Blaise were only just standing up from the wet ground, and Luna was gazing around the room.
“Lumos!” Pansy called, and the four of them slowly made their way down the tunnel.
“Because the Basilisk kills with looks, I would recommend closing your eyes if you see anything moving.” Luna reminded everyone.
The tunnel seemed to last forever, but eventually, they came to a door covered in stone-but-very-real-looking snakes. Luna hissed her faux Pasletongue again, and the door opened to show a giant chamber held up by stone pillars around the room. This must be the Chamber of Secrets, then.
Notes:
I'm so sorry for the cliffhanger, but the chapter was so big I had to split it into two.
Off topic, but comment down what your favorite HP ships are! Idk if I'll ever write in a romance, but if I do, it'll be way later in the series.
Chapter 10: History Class didn't Cover this Part...
Chapter Text
Harry lay on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, unmoving.
“There he is!” The four of them made a beeline for Harry, and Theo knelt to check on him. He wasn’t petrified, but he wasn’t moving, either.
“Well? Is he…” Pansy didn’t finish her sentence.
“He’s still breathing, I think.” Theo tried to judge the rise and fall of his chest. “He won’t wake up.”
“He won’t wake,” an unfamiliar voice called from the nearest pillar. Theo whipped around and saw a tall, pale boy who didn’t look quite real. The edges of his figure were blurred, but there was no mistaking the smirk on his lips.
“Who in Merlin’s bloody name are you?” Blaise snarled.
“I’m Tom Riddle, not that it matters to you.” The boy rolled his eyes.
“What do you mean he won’t wake?” Pansy snapped at him.
“He’s alive, but only just,” Tom said.
“Why is he all– weird and misty?” Pansy stage whispered to the others.
“I guess he’s either a ghost or some manifestation of all our psyches right now.” Luna guessed.
“Incorrect!” Tom chuckled, like he was genuinely enjoying this conversation. “I’m a memory, preserved for over fifty years in a diary.” He motioned to a small object lying on the floor.
“So– did you do this to Harry?” Theo narrowed his eyes.
Tom sighed. “Cut right to the chase… but yes. At first, I had silly little Ginny Weasley wrapped around my finger, but then I realized how much more powerful Harry is. And when he picked up the diary from where that foolish girl chucked it, well, I had to make the most of that opportunity. Harry was much easier to persuade to listen than Ginny was, and it just made it all the easier to get him to trust me. And as soon as he didn’t rat me out to his friends, I decided to put a bit of my soul into him.”
“What does that mean?” Blaise asked, now glowering at the boy.
“It means that at first, I had Ginny Weasley open the Chamber of Secrets. She was the one who set the Basilisk on the Squib’s cat and the mudbloods. But then Harry picked up the diary, and I had him set the Basilisk on anyone who would get in the way of my victory. Such as the young Malfoy, or that pesky mudblood brat who figured out the secret of the Basilisk.”
“But why Draco? It ruined the Muggleborn streak. Don’t get me wrong, that’s twisted that you’d go after them, but I thought you opened the chamber to kill muggleborns, so what was the point?” Pansy scowled at him.
“The point was to cause chaos so I could get to Harry Potter. I don’t care about killing mudbloods anymore! This whole school could be petrified and dead for all I care, as long as I could get my hands on his soul.” Tom’s image flickered for a second, and he came back looking more solid. “Though it is a shame that Harry’s out right now. He wouldn’t answer my questions earlier, and I doubt he’ll get to answer them before he’s gone.”
Pansy fired a spell at Tom, but it just disappeared through him because he’s still largely made of mist. “What questions?” She ground out.
“Such as… how was he able to survive the greatest wizard in history, escaping with nothing but a scar?”
“Why do you even want to know? You’re just a memory, you’re not connected to He Who Must Not be Named.” Blaise said.
“That’s where you’re wrong. Lord Voldemort is my past, present, and future.” Tom made his name appear in the air to arrange the letters to spell ‘I am Lord Voldemort’.
“An anagram?” Theo snarked. “That’s stupid.”
Tom snarled. He continued to rant about how he is the greatest wizard in history, which Theo just thought was egotistical. Trying to speed up the process because Harry was probably inching closer and closer to death, Theo fired two spells at Tom.
Tom sighed. “I was trying to be gracious, you know. The longer you talk to me is the longer you stay alive. But I see you don’t want my courtesy.” Tom was about to do something, possibly call on the basilisk, when a screeching bird sounded down the tunnel. Dumbledore’s phoenix appeared and flew in, holding the sorting hat, and dropped it into Theo’s hands.
Tom burst out laughing. “A phoenix and an old hat? I bet you feel so much safer now.” He straightened up, hissing some words out in Parseltongue, and the giant statue of Slytherin’s mouth opened. A snake started to slither out, and Luna called, “I would recommend closing your eyes now.”
Riddle hissed out a final word in Pasletongue, and Theo guessed it was something along the lines of ‘kill the useless kids’, but he could only guess.
As the basilisk slithered around, they all made the split decision to scatter. Probably not the best idea with their eyes closed, but it was better than the basilisk eating them all in one fell swoop. Theo ran blindly in one direction, feeling idiotic with only his wand and a ratty old hat in his hands, but there was a loud crumbling noise from behind. He glanced back through slits in his eyelids to see the phoenix clawing the snake’s eyes out. Blood poured from its eyes, and the bird flew away.
The snake didn’t open its eyes again, but it was heading in Pansy’s direction. Theo opened his eyes fully, gambling that the snake couldn’t kill with its gaze anymore, and fumbled in his pocket for his wand. He must have lost it in the scuffle, though, because it wasn’t in his pocket anymore.
Seeing the basilisk inch closer and closer to Pansy, who still had her eyes closed and was trying to move away quietly, Theo tried to think of anything that could help her. The hat, still in his hand, seemed like it was here for a reason.
Feeling incredibly stupid and hopeful, Theo sent a silent message to Dumbledore. ‘If there’s any time to help me out, now would be the time.’ Theo reached into the hat, and his jaw dropped as he grabbed onto the hilt of a shiny silver sword.
Wasting no time, Theo tried to run up silently behind the giant snake, and apparently it worked, because Pansy still had her eyes closed, and only opened them when Theo threw all his weight into stabbing the sword down into the basilisk’s head. The basilisk reared back, taking the sword up with it, but fell backwards limply.
“No, no, no!” Tom was throwing a bit of a temper tantrum, but he quickly pulled Theo’s wand out and aimed it at him. Huh, that’s where his wand went. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just dispose of you myself!"
Blaise, who was close to where the snake's head landed, ran forward and pried the sword out, tossing it to Luna. “Luna! Stab it!”
Chucking a sword across the room probably wasn’t the smartest move, but it worked. Luna swiftly picked up the sword from where it landed as Theo and Pansy dodged curses, and Luna stabbed the sword down into the journal.
Tom dropped the wand and writhed in pain until he dissolved into the air like mist. The journal sputtered out ink like blood, and Luna left the sword protruding from the item like a pincushion.
“Did you kill him?” Pansy panted.
“Yep! The journal is dead.” Luna wiped her hands on her robes. “Oh, look, Harry’s waking up. Must be the Wrackspurts.”
They all made their way over and crowded around Harry, and he sat up, gasping. “Why are you all here? Did you kill the fucker?”
Blaise snorted. “Yeah, we stabbed the journal. And the basilisk, as well.”
“The huh?” Harry glanced around and saw the giant dead snake. “Oh. Was that the monster?”
“Yep. Add this to your list of near-death experiences!” Pansy grinned at him. “Can we get out of here, please? I’m all covered in grime, and Harry looks like he’s about to faint.”
Luna helped Harry up, and they once again made their way down the tunnel. “How did you find this place?” Harry asked. “Can’t you only open it with Parsletongue?”
“I mastered faux Parsletongue. I just hiss incoherently and doors open,” Luna explained.
“Mkay then.” Harry stopped talking. Apparently, that one conversation took most of his energy.
Once they got to the tube, Theo asked belatedly, “...right. How do we get up?”
To his amusement, the phoenix flew over and motioned for him to grab hold of the tail.
“Will it hold all of us?” Pansy asked dubiously.
Blaise shrugged. “It wants us to. You got a better idea?”
Greatly doubting the strength of a single phoenix, everyone grabbed hold of someone’s hand or ankles, and soon they resembled a barrel-monkey chain. Amazingly, all five of them arrived at the top of the pipe unharmed. The sink slid back into place as they all caught their breath on the floor of the bathroom.
Myrtle ogled at them, but Theo just pushed himself off the floor and helped Harry up. “Let’s go find someone and tell them we’re not dead.”
The five of them, despite being thoroughly tired and terrified(besides Luna, who skipped her way down the hallway), made their way to McGonagall’s office to inform her that they were not dead, despite being put in danger for a second year in a row.
~
Harry knocked on the door a single time, then entered without being let in. They all trailed in behind him, and Professor McGonagall looked like she was having a heart attack. Dumbledore was standing in her office as well, beaming at him. If Harry had any more energy, he would have tried to strangle the man.
“Goodness! How did you…” Professor McGonagall couldn’t find her words. Harry didn’t blame her, with five students covered in dust, water, blood(in Theo and Blaise’s cases), and ink(in Luna’s case) bursting into her office.
All five of them explained what happened, as well as Harry explaining the journal and how Ginny was involved in it.
“Ah, that explains Miss Weasley’s outburst earlier in the year. No punishment will go to any of you, of course, because you did what you did to save a fellow student.” Dumbledore nodded to Harry. “You should go to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey should be giving the petrified students the cure soon, but rest and take it easy. The rest of you, please head back to your dormitories. You’ll see each other soon enough tonight at dinner. A feast is in order, don’t you think, Minerva?” Dumbledore glanced at McGonagall, and she nodded.
“Yes, I’ll inform the kitchen.” McGonagall swept out of the room, probably to sort herself out.
The rest of the students left for their common rooms after bidding Harry goodbye, and Dumbledore smiled at him. “I’ll walk you to the infirmary, shall I?”
It didn’t seem like he was getting out of this, so he just smiled.
“I assume, Harry, that you have many questions for me.” Dumbledore started as they walked.
“Well…” As much as Harry didn’t like Dumbledore, he did have some questions about what Riddle had said. “Riddle told me, before my friends came, that I was a lot like him. I grew up an orphan, I can speak Parseltongue, I’m in Slytherin…”
“And what do you think, Harry?” Harry inwardly scoffed. What was this, a therapy session?
“I don’t agree. While those are all true, I’m my own person. And I could never dislike someone because of their blood status,” Harry said.
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. Before they reached the inirmary, however, Lucius Malfoy, who somehow located them, stormed up to Dumbledore. Dobby was following behind, clutching a rag and trying to polish his shoes.
Lucius was saying something angrily, but Harry didn’t really care to pay that much attention. He knew, from the way that Dumbledore was speaking to Lucius about ‘what a shame it would have been if this horrible plan succeeded’, that Dumbledore thought Lucius was a part of it. Harry, for his part, felt bad about Dobby. While the house elf was extremely annoying, he definitely didn’t deserve to be a slave.
Lucius stormed away, and Harry turned to Dumbledore. “Do you think I could return the diary to Mr. Malfoy?” Dumbledore must have seen what he was planning to do, so he handed him the book.
“By all means. I’ll be waiting in the infirmary for you.”
Harry pulled off his disgusting sock and hurried after Lucius.
“Mr. Malfoy! Here you go!” Harry happily shoved both the diary and the sock into Lucius’s hands.
“What are you– begone, you fool! You’ll meet the same fate as your parents one day, Harry Potter. Dobby, come.” The house elf didn’t budge. He slowly turned to Lucius.
“Master has given Dobby a sock. Master threw it, Dobby caught it, and now Dobby is free!” Lucius turned to Harry, furious, but Harry was already off, bolting in the direction he had come.
Once he got to the infirmary, Dumbledore informed him that it was still a few hours until the petrified people would return to normal, and Harry promptly collapsed into a bed that Madam Pomfrey pointed him to.
Harry, still drifting to sleep, thought idly how odd it was that Lucius Malfoy didn’t even bother to stay and wait for his son to wake up.
~
A few hours later, around dinner time, Harry had washed off and changed out of his dirty clothes. The students who had been petrified were returned to normal, and Harry reveled in being out of danger once again. During the feast(as Dumbledore had promised), Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Luna all sat with the Slytherin Second years. Thankfully, everyone was too overjoyed by the fact that they were no longer in danger and that all exams had been cancelled to care.
Another interesting development was that Lockhart had fled sometime after Harry was taken down to the chamber. He hadn’t said anything to anyone, and his office had been left bare. Just as well that exams had been cancelled, because no one had learned a single thing all year in that class.
Gryfindor had won the cup, once again, to the chagrin of the Slytherins. Draco had grimaced as they announced it, and Harry just sighed.
The school year ended on a good note, and they all boarded the train, and for once, all of Harry’s friends were squeezed into a compartment. Ron and Neville were playing chess, being watched by Blaise and Theo. Luna was reading a book upside down, Pansy and Daphne were talking about hair products, occasionally including Hermione, and Draco and Harry were laughing at the newspaper, which included a story on how Lockhart went into hiding.
At the platform, before he left to find his parents, Draco approached Hermione. “Look, I’m sorry about calling you that thing at the beginning of the year. You don’t have to accept my apology, or anything, but I know that we’re all wizards, and that’s really all that matters. Harry made sure I knew that,” Draco glanced over at Harry.
Hermione beamed. “Thanks, Draco. While I don’t exactly forgive you, I know you’re trying. So, thanks for that.” She shook his hand, then turned to hug Harry.
“I’m gonna miss you so much! I swear, I’ll send you letters! And don’t be shy to call me, because my house has a phone! I’ll owl you the number. And I swear, if you want a place to stay, please call me. My parents would love to meet one of my friends, anyway.” Hermione waved goodbye and walked off.
“See you, Potter. Try not to get killed this summer. And thanks for freeing Dobby, even though I know my father will curse you all summer for it.” Draco laughed awkwardly. “I mean. He won’t actually curse you. I’ll make sure.”
“Send me loads of letters, too. Now that nothing is blocking them from arriving, I’ll respond to them all.” Harry waved goodbye to Draco as well, and made his way back out into Muggle London to see Vernon Dursley there, waiting, purple in the face.
Harry sighed. So much for a fun summer.
Notes:
End of year three!!
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