Chapter 4: Draco Malfoy
For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Harry had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly'' and "looking happy."
Harry had made up with Ron and Hermione by completely ignoring what they said about Lyra. They were his first friends, but not all Slytherins were bad. Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Ron, she was a great cat lover.
"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny's lip trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking -" Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.
The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and Harry decided to go to Lyra.
"She's looking for information on the Chamber of Secrets." she told him.
"That's in a book?" Harry exclaimed.
"You really need to read more." she rolled her eyes. "Yes it's in Hogwarts a History. Everyone in the school is looking for one, including me. I can tell you what I know though."
"What?" Harry asked eagerly.
"It was opened 50 years ago, and a student named Myrtle Hornby was killed in a girls bathroom. Hagrid was expelled for that, because everyone thought it was him."
"Hagrid?" Harry's brow furrowed.
"I know." she rolled her eyes. "Stupidest accusation ever."
"I really need to read more." he muttered.
"Why don't you?" Lyra asked, cocking her head to the side.
"Well, Ron really doesn't like studying, he prefers chess or flying. He was my first friend so I really wanted him to like me, and Hermione doesn't like anyone doing better than her in class."
"You shouldn't change who you are for your friends." she told him sincerely. "You should study, and be the best version of yourself."
Harry gave her a grin. At least she'd still be friends with him, which made the option of studying a lot easier. She also gave him a grin before walking off. And that was how Harry found himself in the Common Room reading a Potions book.
"Mate you want to play chess?" Ron asked.
"No thanks." Harry replied.
"Why not?"
"I'm studying." Harry pointed out, holding his potions book up for emphasis.
"Mate, don't turn into a bloody bookworm like Hermione!"
"And what's wrong with wanted to get good grades Ron?" Hermione asked coolly. "I think it's good that Harry is studying."
Harry gave her a small grin. Ron rolled his eyes.
"Whatever mate." he grumbled, before turning around. "Hey Dean! Want to play chess?" he asked.
Harry realized just how behind he was in Potions compared to the rest of the school when reading this book. It was surprising how many potions tips were in the book. Harry devoured it, and finished a second potions book by the time he went to bed.
Finally they found out what the Chamber of Secrets was when Hermione questioned Professor Binns in the middle of History Class. Harry had to admire her courage.
"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Harry and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home..."
Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly.
Harry had never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he'd placed the hat on his head a year before : You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that...
But Harry, who had already heard of Slytherin House's reputation for turning out Dark wizards, had thought desperately, Not Slytherin! and the hat had said, Oh, well, if you're sure... better be Gryffindor ...
What was he supposed to do?
"Trouble Harry Potter?" the airy voice of Luna Lovegood asked him as he wandered around the castle.
"The Nargles told you right?"
She gave him a smile, a genuine smile on her petite face. "Yes they did."
"I was supposed to be put in Slytherin. I don't know what Ron and Hermione would think of that."
"They would not accept you." she said immediately, staring at him with large blue eyes. "Ronald's Nargles are all Gryffindor minds, and Hermione Jean's are narrow minded. She would not accept it."
Sitting in his office, Dumbledore listened to the conversation between the Ravenclaw Lovegood and Harry. This simply would not do. He needed Harry closed off, ready to die when the time came. And Severus was worrying him too, asking questions into Harry's childhood and even visiting Privet Drive in disguise.
No no, it was best for everyone if he continued to believe that Harry was spoiled. It was for the Greater Good, after all.
"What the bloody hell?" Lyra demanded when they met up a few days later. "Your friends think that I'm the heir of Slytherin?"
"Yeah." Harry fidgeted. "They think that is why were found at the scene of the crime, and you used some dark spell to make me forget about it."
"That's a load of bullshit." she said bluntly.
Harry was impressed with her cursing.
"I know it is, but they don't think so. They're brewing Polyjuice right now to try and get you to tell them about it."
"Are you participating in it?" she asked suddenly, her eyes shining a dark silver.
'No." he told her firmly. "I told them that I didn't think it was you, but they think I've been bewitched. I had to go the Madame Pomfrey and get a deep cleaning." Lyra gave a wince. "It turns out that I had no curses except for a listening curse on me.."
"Who put the listening curse on you?" she asked all of a sudden.
"What?" Harry asked, thrown by her abruptness. "Well- er- I dunno."
"You need to be more careful." she looked him in the eye. "People can get good blackmail on you that way."
"Yeah." Harry muttered.
Severus Snape was a man who prided himself on his beliefs. He believed that Harry Potter was a spoiled brat. So when he showed up at the Dursley's residence he was shocked to find no trace of Harry Potter anywhere. Upon usage of Legilimency, he found that Harry Potter was an abused child, a role that he once played.
As a man who prided himself on control, he nearly blew off the fat lump Vernon's head when he was given pictures of Harry Potter crying in a cupboard under the stairs, bruises on his arms and stomach from Dudley and Vernon. Cooking, Cleaning, the list went on. There was no doubt about it: Harry Potter was treated worse than a house elf.
And Snape didn't know what to do. He eventually chose neutrality. He stopped picking on Potter, he chose Ron Weasley to be his new target. He had no doubt that this confused the boy, but he didn't care. Maybe he could salvage a relationship out of its ashes, for Lily's sake.
So he had reorganized the class. He had changed everyone's desk partners, trying to act like a proper teacher, though he still called students dunderheads and imbeciles. Potter was given a seat next to his god daughter Lyra. He sat Draco next to Goyle in hopes that there would be less explosions. Crabbe with Greengrass and Weasley with Nott would hopefully ensure that no explosions would happen, and he would put the clumsy Longbottom with Granger.
He noticed that Potter and Lyra didn't have a problem sitting next to each other, and that Potter's potion grades were actually improving. He was surprised, but he could see from Potter's suspicious glares and glances of Legilimency that he would have a talk with Potter.
He was proven right. After class was dismissed Potter stayed behind. "Why?" he demanded.
"I have realized that you are not an incompetent buffoon," Snape replied.
"How did you realize this?" Potter asked again.
"I visited Privet Drive." Potter paled drastically. "I realized that you aren't a pampered spoiled bully like your father."
"My father wasn't a bully!" he protested.
"He was. He would play childish and cruel pranks on me with his friends until they grew out of it, and I took it out on you. For that I apologize."
Potter looked like hell froze over. Professor Snape apologize to him? What the hell? If Severus wasn't in company of the boy he would have laughed; however, he kept a straight face and dismissed the Gryffindor.
Harry's life was going well. Apart from the rumours that Lyra had petrified Mrs Norris, nothing too bad was happening. His grades were improving in all his classes thanks to his studying, and he was on par with Hermione now. Potions with Lyra gave him excuses to hang out with her more, and Luna had also become a good friend of his.
The only classes that really sucked were DADA. Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.
Seeing that Ron and Hermione were staying after class, he lingered around to listen to them. What he heard shocked him. Were they really still on the idea that Lyra had opened the chamber? Merlin, it should have been obvious that she hadn't. But still, how much of an idiot was Lockhart to not even look at the book? Harry was just writing crap on his homework and reading Defense Books from the Library.
Spells and Curses had become his favorite thing to study since he was so good at them, and he was up until third year in terms of hexes, though in other classes he was still in Second. Potions he was getting better at, and he was actually starting to understand the subject. Before he would just throw things in the cauldron and mix, but now he saw how each ingredient played a role in the potion, and how all of them did certain things.
What he really wanted was someone to duel with. He knew all these spells, and could perform them on a wall, but he'd never actually tried them in a fight. But Harry pushed that all out of his mind and got ready for the first real game of the Quidditch Season.
As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry good luck as he entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.
"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers -"("Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August")"- and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."
Chest heaving with emotion, Wood turned to Harry.
"It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."
"So no pressure, Harry" said Fred, winking at him.
As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.
"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..."
With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.
"Close one, Harry!" said George, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. Harry saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.
Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.
Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible...
Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.
"Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.
It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering onto his glasses. He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero.
The Slytherins 'superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.
"Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger -" Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry.
"We need time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time.
Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.
"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"
"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it - it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."
"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then..." said Wood, anxiously. Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, Harry could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in his direction.
"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."
"Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your head off."
Wood was looking from Harry to the Weasleys.
"Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia Spinner angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry..."
"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!"
"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. "`Get the Snitch or die trying,'what a stupid thing to tell him-"
Madam Hooch had joined them.
"Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood.
Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.
"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry - leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."
The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open, rain was speckling his glasses and ran up his nostrils as he hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Bludger. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he must look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the Gryffindor goal posts, where Lyra Malfoy was trying to get past Wood.
A whistling in Harry's ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.
"Akright?" Lyra asked him as she sped by, Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, looking for the Snitch, he saw it hovering near the male Malfoy's ear.
For an agonizing moment, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed toward Malfoy in case he looked up and saw the Snitch.
WHAM.
He had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on his rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at his side - the Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time zooming at his face - Harry swerved out of the way, one idea firmly lodged in his numb brain: get to Malfoy.
Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering, sneering face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear: Malfoy thought Harry was attacking him.
"What the -" he gasped, careening out of Harry's way.
Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch; he felt his fingers close on the cold Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd below as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out.
With a splattering thud he hit the mud and vaguely heard a crack. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.
"Aha," he said vaguely. "We've won."
And he fainted.
When Harry came to, he was in the hospital wing, lying on a bed with his arm flopping by his side.
"What happened?" he groaned.
"Oh, you're awake." Madame Pomfrey bustled in. "Gilderoy accidentally erased the bones in your arm when trying to heal them, and you were carried up here by some of your friends."
Harry rolled his eyes. Lockhart was an idiot. He looked to his bed stand, and saw a pile of gifts.
"From your admirers and friends." the nurse said.
Harry looked through it. Candy from the team, some cards, and a leafy green plant Harry could tell was from Neville. He looked through them, and saw a card from Lyra and Luna. He opened it.
Hello Harry,
It's us. So, we thought we should be the ones to break the bad news to you. When you crashed onto the field, your Nimbus 2000 splintered, it broke in half. Even with repairing charms no one was able to fix it, including Dumbledore. THis is me Lyra: I'm really sorry about what happened, and if you have any idea who sabotaged the bludger, I'll help you get them.
-Lyra and Luna
Harry closed his eyes and leaned back. His Nimbus 2000. His broom. One of his most treasured possessions next to his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map. And now it was gone. Splintered in half. He turned around and fell asleep, trying to distract himself from the pain in his heart.
"So what happened?" Lyra asked, sitting with Luna near a window.
"A crazy house elf has been stalking me. Apparently he thinks I'm in danger, so he thought I should get hurt enough to go home. He was stopping my mail this summer and got me in trouble with my aunt and uncle."
"What's his name?" Luna asked.
"Dobby."
At that, Lyra sat ramrod straight and still. "Did you say Dobby?" she asked slowly.
"Yeah." Harry shrugged. "Tiny, wears rags, with big green eyes."
"I know Dobby." Lyra snarled slowly. Harry was used to seeing her happy, but now she looked dangerous, her silver eyes like hardened pieces of steel.
"YOU DO?" Harry and Luna asked in unison.
"He's the Malfoy house elf. Let me go get Draco, and I'll get him to call Dobby. I don't have control over Dobby."
Fifteen minutes later they were all sitting in an empty classroom, and Malfoy and Harry were glaring at each other.
"Oh for Merlin's sake." Lyra rolled her eyes. "You two need to get over your little fight. How the hell did this even start?"
"Potter didn't shake my hand on the express. He chose Weasley." Malfoy sulked.
"Ron was my first friend!" Harry exclaimed. "You just came in and insulted him!"
Lyra looked at both of them incredulously. "You're both morons." she decided with a smirk.
"They're heads are crowded by Nargles." Luna told them. "To banish the Nargles, they have to apologize."
Harry looked at them incredulously again. Apologize to Malfoy? Never! But Lyra was staring at him so hard. Malfoy glared back at him, before softening his gaze. The steely glint in his eyes, hoever, showed that their fight was far from over.
"Sorry Potter." he muttered, sticking his hand out.
"Sorry Malfoy." Harry replied, shaking his hand.
"Good!" Lyra beamed. "Now call Dobby Draco."
"Dobby!" Malfoy barked, and in popped a tiny house elf.
One terrified gaze at his master, Lyra, and Harry had the house elf whimpering.
"Dobby I command you to speak freely." Malfoy said formally.
"What threat are you talking about?" Harry asked immediately. "You told me that there is a threat."
"It's the Chamber of Secrets it is sir!" Dobby told him. "Big Master planted a book from bad Lord Voldy to opens the Chamber he is! Big monster in chambers is killing mudbloods and blood traitors big Master says."
"Father told me just to stay to the side and do nothing." Malfoy murmured. "He planted an object belonging to the Dark Lord?"
"Bloody hell." Harry muttered, running a hand across his face.
"Do you know who he planted the object on?" Lyra asked.
"Dobby is not knowing Young Mistress."
"I'll be talking with father over Christmas." Lyra snarled. "God damn Chamber of Secrets."
"Thanks Dobby." Harry told him. "But please don't try to kill me again."
"Dobby won't." the house elf told him, nodding solemnly.
"So some object of the Dark Lord is opening the Chamber of Secrets and petrifying people." Lyra listed. "This object was placed in the school by our father, who intentionally put us in danger of being petrified."
"The Nargles are bright around Gryffindor Tower." Luna said dreamily.
Harry looked at her in understanding. "So the person he planted the diary on is in Gryffindor, and they are somehow being forced to open the Chamber."
"This is a mess." Malfoy groaned.
"We'll meet later." Harry said. "We have Quidditch Practice now."
"Oh, Harry?" Lyra called as he walked away, causing him to pause. "Don't tell anyone about this. Anyone in Gryffindor could be possessed, and if you tell even Ron, he might be the culprit, and you could be next."
And Harry walked off, deep in thought about the next prank he would play, and his target: Malfoy. He was thinking.
Chapter 5: Susan Bones
Colin had been attacked the night before, when Harry was in the hospital wing. The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.
Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.
Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pure-blood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.
"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face fearful. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."
In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, and Lyra were all staying for the break.
Harry knew that Ron and Hermione planned to use Polyjuice Potion to sneak on Lyra, and he saw Hermione steal some ingredients a few potion classes later when Harry was brewing a swelling draught. Harry thought it was kind of funny that Malfoy was hit, because that morning he had pranked the Slytherin, turning his robes Gryffindor red, and spelling them to say GRYFFINDOR RULES every few minutes.
Still, Lyra's furious face and concerned attitude after class made him take pity and remove the charms early. Harry was levitated into the air a while later by Malfoy, and had to pull himself down with Dean and Seamus's help.
That evening Harry hustled down to the Duelling Club, hopeful for the first meeting. He had lots of new spells he wanted to try out in a duel. His favorite was the stunning curse, and the whiplash curse. Harry took a spot next to Lyra, Ron, and Hermione.
"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him."
"As long as it's not -" Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black. Lyra gave a derisive smirk to him.
Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!
"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works.
"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
Lyra and Malfoy gave snickers of amusement at the very idea of Lockhart hurting Snape. If anything Snape would hurt Lockhart.
"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear.
Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.
"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."
"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.
"One - two - three-"
Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.
Harry, Ron, Lyra, Malfoy, and most of the Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.
"Who cares?" said Harry and Ron together.
Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.
"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."
Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me-"
They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley. Harry moved to Lyra, who gave him a grin. Snape partnered Ron with Seamus and Hermione with a Slytherin named Millicent Bulstrode. Malfoy was put with a Slytherin named Blaise Zabini.
seen in Holidays with Hags. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.
"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one ... two ... three-"
Harry immediately fired off a Disarming Charm, but Lyra shielded and sent a Rictumsempra back. Harry used the Whiplash Charm on her and used the time she was getting up to stop the tickling charm, barely shielding against her stunning spell and throwing three more of his own, before finally disarming her. She gave a large grin.
"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd.
"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge. "Finite Incantatem!" he shouted.
A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever his broken wand had done; but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor. Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off. It was difficult: She was a lot bigger than he was.
"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan..."
"Careful there, Miss Fawcett... Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second,"
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you-"
"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.
"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.
"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."
He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited-"
Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"
"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.
"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron and Hermione cheering for him, while Lyra was cheering for Draco. Burn.
Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"
"What, drop my wand?"
But Lockhart wasn't listening.
"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.
Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, " Serpensortia!"
A snake. Malfoy conjured a snake. Of course he didn't know about the Parseltongue thing, but still. Harry moved forward to tell it to get away, but one glare from Lyra had him backing away. He couldn't reveal that he was a Parselmouth.
Then the snake started advancing on Justin Flinch Fletchely. Damn.
Harry stepped forward. "Stop" he hissed, continuing to walk. "Come to me." the snake backed away from Justin, and before it could slither any further, vanished in a puff of smoke.
He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful - but certainly not angry and scared.
"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.
Lyra immediately came forward and taking his arm, yanked him away by his collar, with Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, and Luna following. The moment they found a secluded room she rounded on him.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" she screeched, making everyone cower away. "I told you not to speak Parseltongue, yet you went and did that!"
"It was going to bite Justin. I told it to step away." Harry defended himself.
"Mate, we just saw you hissing to the snake." Ron said.
"AND YOU!" Lyra rounded on Malfoy. Harry was rather pleased to see fear in his eyes. "How dare you conjure a snake Draco? That spell isn't even in the books for our year, or the next!"
"Professor Snape gave it to me." he defended himself.
"Yes, and as his god daughter I will be talking to him." she snapped.
"It's alright. No harm came, but Sniggles will infest the school and make everyone think badly of you Harry. They target people with tragedy in their lives." Luna told them dreamily.
"Sniggles don't exist!" Hermione retorted furiously.
"Just because you can't see them doesn't mean they don't exist." Luna told her furiously.
"Hermione leave it. They are real." Harry told her shortly.
Hermione huffed, but stayed silent. Lyra rolled her eyes at Hermione. Eventually they all separated, not before Lyra could berate him three more times, and give him a worried hug, to which Harry was very amused.
Harry lay awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the curtains around his four-poster he watched snow starting to drift past the tower window and wondered...
Could he be a descendant of Salazar Slytherin? He didn't know anything about his father's family, after all. The Dursleys had always forbidden questions about his wizarding relatives.
Was there a way to find out about his Wizarding Relatives? Harry decided to do some research. He wandered the library the next day until he found a heritage book.
Many people go through complex rituals to determine their bloodline, but the easiest way is to go to Gringotts Bank, located in Diagon Alley, and pay ten galleons for a blood test. Involving three drops of blood, which can also be mailed to Gringotts, the magical parchment made by goblins will turn the blood into ink listing your bloodline, name, family, and magical gifts.
Harry grinned. All he had to do now was send a letter to Gringotts with a few drops of blood, and he would find out if he was descended from Slytherin or not. Then, when walking away with the book, he saw a group of Hufflepuffs huddled over a table in deep conversation.
"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"
"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" said a girl with blonde pigtails anxiously.
"Hannah," said the stout boy solemnly, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself he hangs out with that Slytherin witch Malfoy."
There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on, "Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Flich's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know - Creevey's been attacked."
"He always seems so nice, though," said Hannah uncertainly, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"
Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, and Harry edged nearer so that he could catch Ernie's words.
"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that." He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, "That's probably why You- Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding?"
"I don't think it was him." a red head said firmly. "How could he be like the man who killed his parents? Plus he's always really nice, and to me it looked like Potter made the snake go away from Justin. I'm sorry, but I don't think it's Potter."
"I'm with Susan." said the blonde girl, Hannah. "Maybe I'll ask him."
"I'm glad some Hufflepuffs have sense." Harry said quietly, stepping out from behind the shelves.
Ernie's face paled drastically. "Thank you Susan, Hannah. I'm afraid I don't know your last names though."
"Susan Bones." the redhead said. "Hannah Abbot is my friend."
"You didn't open the Chamber did you?" Hannah asked.
"No." Harry shook his head. "I was on my way back from Sir Nick, the Gryffindor Ghost's Deathday Party with Lyra and Luna and we came across the corridor."
"See?" Susan pointed out.
"But you're a Parselmouth Potter." Ernie snapped.
"Yeah, but I don't know if I'm related to Slytherin or not. I'll be sending a blood test to the goblins to find out."
Harry turned around and walked out, blundering up the stairs and away.
"Oh, hello, Hagrid," Harry said, looking up.
Hagrid's face was entirely hidden by a woolly, snow-covered balaclava, but it couldn't possibly be anyone else, as he filled most of the corridor in his moleskin overcoat. A dead rooster was hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.
"All righ', Harry?" he said, pulling up the balaclava so he could speak. "Why aren't yeh in class?"
"Canceled," said Harry, getting up. "What're you doing in here?"
Hagrid held up the limp rooster.
"Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin Bugbear, an'I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop."
He peered more closely at Harry from under his thick, snowflecked eyebrows. "You all right Harry?"
"It's nothing," he said. "Id better get going, Hagrid, it's Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books."
He walked off, his mind still full of what Ernie had said about him.
"Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born..."
Harry stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. He was halfway down the passage when he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.
He turned to squint at what he'd fallen over and felt as though his stomach had dissolved.
Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.
It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.
Harry got to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow, his heart doing a kind of drumroll against his ribs. He looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.
Harry decided to run. He sprinted down the corridor, melting into a part of the wall that looked like a wall but actually showed a hidden corridor to the Gryffindor Common Room. Just in time too, because Peeves came zooming by screaming about the attack and McGonagall's Transfiguration Class came in too. Thank god Harry wasn't in the room, though MacMillan insisted was him, getting him a kick in the shin from Susan Bones, whom Harry was starting to like.
Soon it was Christmas, and Harry was happily hanging out with his friends in an empty castle not full of people who thought he was the heir to Slytherin. Christmas had come, and with it his blood test.
Name: Harry James Potter
Age: 12
Parents: James Charlus Potter and Lily Rose Potter
Guardians: Petunia Anne Dursley and Vernon Brutus Dursley
Magical Guardian: Albus Dumbledore
Godparents: Sirius Orion Black(Imprisoned) and Alice Willow Longbottom( )
Vaults:
Potter Vault
Potter Trust Vault
Black
Gryffindor
Slytherin
Ravenclaw
Hufflepuff
Merlin
Emrys
Pendragon
LeFay
Seats on the Wizengamot: 12( Proxy Albus too many middle names Dumbledore)
Harry looked at the paper in disbelief. He never knew he was heir to so many houses! And heir to all four Hogwarts houses! Including Slytherin. This meant that Ernie was right. He moved onto his other presents. Malfoy got him a hair brush, to which Harry snorted. Finally he pulled out his last package, from Lyra.;
It was a broom. Long, thin, and white, white sleek bristles that went from white to black, and black lettering on the handle saying Windstorm 50. Harry had heard about this broom. It was super expensive, and only found in Russia. It was faster than the Nimbus series by a considerable amount, though double the price. Harry wasn't sure how Lyra got it for him.
"Wow." he whispered.
The broom was beautiful, and Lyra had gotten it just for him. He placed it delicately away and went down to the kitchens. The moment he entered he was bombarded with house elves thanking him in squeaky voices. As he said he would, he had ordered large amounts of cloth for all the house elves, and he noticed that they all wore different festive clothes.
"Harry Potter is a good wizard!" Tilly squeaked.
"It's nothing." Harry laughed, grabbing a croissant off at table.
"Hogwarts House elves must repay Harry Potter!" Muffy the House elf squeaked.
"I don't need anything." Harry told them. "Just keep making amazing food."
With that he left to find his friends. He found them in an empty classroom: Malfoy, Lyra, Luna, and surprisingly, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot.
"They believe you." Lyra explained. "I think they would be good allies and friends."
"Ok." Harry shrugged. "So, here's the blood test."
The others read it in silence.
"You're heir to Hogwarts?" Susan asked, her stare wide.
"Forget that!" Malfoy scoffed. "You're heir to bloody Merlin!"
"And Morgana." Hannah murmured.
"Yeah." Harry muttered. "I know."
"Harry this means you own Hogwarts." Lyra told him, her eyes wide.
Harry looked at her. "So, I could ask Hogwarts something?"
"Only in times of need." Susan said. "My auntie told me about it."
"Her aunt is Amelia Bones." Malfoy told him. "The Head of the DMLE."
Harry raised his eyebrow. The Bones were a powerful family, part of the Sacred 28, and one of the top magical families next to the Potters, Blacks, Malfoys, Longbottoms, and Greengrasses.
"That reminds me, Thanks for the broom Lyra!" Harry exclaimed.
Lyra grinned. "I wrote to father and he agreed that Dobby's actions were despicable. Dobby has in fact been fired, and is now working at Hogwarts. Father agreed to pay for the broom for his actions. Father also would like to apologize for giving the dark object to a student. He just wanted to get rid of it and forget everything that happened when his father forced him to take the Dark Mark under the Imperius Curse."
"So he was a death eater?" Susan asked.
"Not by choice." Malfoy said grimly.
"So the Imperius thing was true!" Harry exclaimed. "Ron always told me that the Imperius part was a lie."
"Weasley doesn't know anything." Malfoy sneered.
Harry stayed silent. "But this means that MacMillan was correct. I am heir to Slytherin."
"You're also heir to the other three Hogwarts houses." Hannah rolled her eyes. "Doesn't mean you're evil."
"Thanks." he said gratefully. "Now, let's go outside! Lyra got me a Windstorm 50!"
"Bloody hell!" Malfoy swore. "Even my broom won't go that fast."
"I know." Harry grinned.
"I'll need to add one last safety charm to it." Luna said dreamily once they were outside with the broom.
"What charm?" Susan asked.
"Quia fortis est scriptor petat pro crepitu formica." Luna chanted, waving her wand over the broom in complicated motions. "There! Now Wrackspurts won't distract you while you fly, and your broom has a less chance of shattering when hitting the ground."
"What did that charm mean?" Malfoy asked.
"Strong as an ant's butt fart."