Disclaimer:

I don't own any intellectual or commercial rights to the Harry Potter franchise and its associate characters. They belong to J K Rowling and Warner Brother Inc.

(Also I have read quite a bit of fan fics, so some of the ideas below may belong to other authors.)

Chapter 4 Snape's Second Battle

It was almost the end of the first week and Harry still hasn't found a teacher that he can trust. Thus, he was stuck in the library on the first Friday afternoon of the school year—alone— with Sir Bennet (the librarian) breathing down his neck. Harry flipped through a 18-inch thick Ancient Runes Dictionary in vain of his impossible task: to translate the original Tales of Beetle the Bard.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Sort of flashback oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In addition to the four classes of the first day, Harry also had Astronomy with Professor Sinistra, two nights a week. Harry's favorite subject, Dark Arts was taught by Professor Neviry, the Slytherin head of house. Neviry was a short, old man with neatly trimmed, grey beard. He was stern like McGonagall and warned them, much to everyone's disappointment, first-years will only be working on theories. There was also Potions— Harry's worst subject. (Not because Potions is extremely difficult, but because Harry just can't concentrate on Slughorn's gibberings.) But now Harry was starting to miss Slughorn, because Professor Lippincot, the potion master, was very stringent, anything short of perfection means a zero in his books. So far it seems that, with the possible exception of Hermione and Malfoy, no one else was going to pass Potions.

Harry, Hermione, and Malfoy were quickly established as the best students of their year. The three of them obviously had the best tutors that money can buy (at least Harry and Malfoy did, Hermione was just …smart). Because of his talent, Harry was able to assert a firm footing in Slytherin. The others even started to respect him, bar Malfoy.

Malfoy's continuous juvenile behaviors over the last week started to really piss Harry off. Harry was determined to do something, but so far he has to wait for an opportunity to present itself.

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I really hate Ancient Runes, thought Harry as he poured his mind over the narrow, loopy writing and translated,

"In time, the…um… brothers reached a … what does this mean? quodantius sciendumtiolevqutes…to wade through and too… bakasuetis semperiom wi primusotain opo…to swim across. AH HA! There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across…"(1)

Harry proudly read aloud his progress for the week before slamming the book shut. The translation was very difficult. What is worst was that even the original Tale of the Three Brothers–which the Hogwarts library holds the only copy in existence— doesn't reveal clues to the locations of the deathly hollows. It only reinforced what Harry already knew: that a powerful family once owned three deathly hollows, the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak. Harry needs the rest of the puzzle; he needs access to the other books in the restricted section—namely, Potter Family Genealogy and the Comprehensive Guide to the Order of the Phoenix.

AHHHH! Harry almost tore out his hair in frustration. If only someone could show him how to put an untraceable spell on an owl, then maybe he can device a way to contact the Order of Phoenix safely.

Speaking of owls, Harry reached into his pocket and held his treasure tightly in his palm. It is a small glass bottle filled with dark, red liquid, which was just delivered from Beate Myers' Dark Arts & Potions Shop this the morning. It did not arrive a moment too soon, because Snape had returned to Hogwarts the very same morning.

Blaise had this theory regarding Snape's absence,

"Headmaster Snape has definitely gone to the semi-annul Death Eater meeting. I heard he and three other ranked teachers will report a list of new talents to the Dark Lord. If you can get your name onto that list, then you are set for life."

A girl with large, square jaw walked in the Library, who Harry recognized as Millicent Bulstrode from Slytherin, and brought with her expected news,

"Harry Gaunt. The Headmaster wants to see you."

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Harry quietly followed Millicent down the corridor. While she wasn't paying attention to him, Harry snuck a sip of red liquid out of his bottle, before quickly hiding it back in his pocket. Harry forced his body to suppress tremors as jiggering pain cut through his veins.

As they approached the Headmaster's office, Harry caught sight of Hermione and waved to her,

"Hermione. Good afternoon. Are you also here to see the Headmaster?"

Hermione hesitated before replying, "Yes, Harry. I didn't actually get a chance to speak to father since the sorting, so…"

She trailed off as she noticed Millicent and greeted politely, "Oh hello, Millicent. Long time no see."

As soon as she caught sight of Hermione, Millicent's former impassive poise suddenly morphed into revulsion, rage, and hatred. Although the other Slytherins were also fond of harassing Gryffindors for laughs, they usually only threw some insults and maybe few curses. (Though Hermione usually escapes unscarred on the account she is Snape's daughter). Harry has never seen a reaction as extreme as Millicent's—her eye spurt fire, her knacks turned white from overexertion,and her face was even turning purple.

Millicent sneered, "Don't act so friendly, Mudblood. Why are you bothering the Headmaster again? Oh, how he must dread you. The poor man, I can not imagine how much he must hate living with you. You and your filthy, disgusting," Millicent paused as she struggled for a more offensive word, "…Muggle way!"

Harry was shocked and enraged by this unproved attack. Although Hermione doesn't need his assistance, from what Harry seen her do with a wand, he half expected to see Millicent transfigured into a slug, diced up, and stuffed into the Potion supply closet by now.

But Hermione only stood there, with her eyes cast down and her wand firmly in her pocket.

Millicent took a threatening step forward. She toweled a good half-a-head over Hermione, who merely cowered, and shirked, "Don't pretend you are the victim. Oh, big bad Millicent is picking on little angle Hermione again. Like it's my fault. Like everything's always my fault!"

At this point, Harry was going to step in, but even he was momentarily frightened of the hysteria in Millicent's voice.

"WHY! Why do you deserve to be happy? You are DIRTY! YOUR KIND DON'T EVEN DESERVE TO LIVE!"

Without warning, Millicent charged. She tackled Hermione with brute force, causing Hermione's face to slam onto the stone floor with a thud. Then, by gasping Hermione's brown locks, Millicent held Hermione's head back in a painful position and tried repeatedly to bash Hermione's face to the floor. Both of their wands rolled aside and forgotten.

"Reducto!" A red beam shot of Harry's wand and blasted Millicent to the opposite wall, as she slummed motionless upon impact.

"Hermione! Stay with me." Harry's voice cracked as he kneed beside her. After checking her vital signs, Harry returned her wand and turned to Millicent angrily,

"YOU! What is wrong with you? You stay away from my friend, understand? Wait until the Headmaster hears about this, he will expel you for sure!"

"No, Wait! Harry." Hermione cried weakly, "Just… just let her go."

Harry looked at Hermione surprised as she tugged on his robe. Meanwhile, Millicent struggled up, her face cold and twisted— there was no hint of regret or apology or any indication that she even heard Hermione's plead. She wobbled away in silence.

"Hey! Come back and apologize, you crazy…!" Harry yelled, but Hermione shushed him again.

She looked terrible. Her lips were cut and an ugly chuck of purple bruising was forming on her forehead. Hermione gripped Harry's arm in order to support herself and begged him,

"Oh promise me you wouldn't tell father. Millicent is not a bad person. She is like us. During the war, she lost both her parents to the Order. So now she's just venting out her anger in the wrong way."

Then Hermione pushed an angry Harry toward the spiral staircase.

As they approached the Headmaster's office, Harry was surprised to hear another shouting match.

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare use that on the boy!" shouted a furious woman.

"This is the Dark Lord's direct orders. I'm afraid there's nothing you can do," that oily tone definite belonged to Snape.

"I care not for threats! I have survived for too long without my conscious. This is James and Lily's son …Don't lie to me! You are perfectly clear how much he wants to kill the boy."

"Exactly! It is not my choice!" Then the voices dropped to a whisper, so Harry could only distinguish a few words: Azkaban…torture…truth…Department of Mystery, Division of Defense.

Harry pressed his ears to the nostrils of the griffin-shaped knocker on the Headmaster's door; thus, unfortunately, alerted Snape of his presence.

"Mr. Gaunt, enter!"

Harry was surprised to find that the passionate voice belonged to McGonagall, while both adults were equally surprised to see Hermione.

McGonagall exclaimed, "Hermione. What in Merlin's name happened to you?"

Hermione blushed, "Um…I fell down the stairs. Fa…Headmaster, may I speak with you?"

Snape frowned in disbelief, "Certainly. But first I have some business to attend with Mr. Gaunt. Hermione, Minerva, if you would, step outside."

Hermione nodded and headed out the door. McGonagall, however, wouldn't budge.

"Fire me if you will, Severus. But I'm staying. "

Snape ignored her. He gestured for Harry to sit, then placed a cup of tea and a vial of clear liquid on his desk.

"Do you know what this is?" Snape asked as he swirled the clear liquid.

"No, sir."

(2)"It is Veritaserum—a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for the entire world to hear. Regrettably, the Ministry forbids the use of such potion on unsuspecting students. However, since I still find your record suspicious, for you to remain at Hogwarts, the Veritaserum becomes a must. It is the only satisfactory way to clear your name. Thus, Mr. Guant, do I have permission to subject you to questioning under the Veritaserum?"

Harry cheered internally, but on the outside he still maintained a look of shock and dismay. Here's his one chance to get rid of Snape. He putted on his best scared little boy voice and asked,

"Well, sir. If…if I must. But may I…may I at least request you to restrain from asking personal and irrelevant questions?"

"I will decide what's relevant and what's not."

Harry took a deep breath. You will be fine, Harry encouraged himself, Beate Myers' Potion will work, after all I paid him 1500 galleons for it.

He went in for the kill, "Sir, do I have your words this will be my last integration. As you will find I am innocent. And surely a man of your caliber has more urgent and productive business to attend to."

Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Off course, if you are truly innocent, then the Veritaserum will proof enough. Although, Mr. Gaunt, do not try your tricks on me. This Veritaserum is my special blend. It is infallible and if you try to lie under its influence, I can assure you that you will be spending five, long, painful months in St. Mungos."

"Then I should be fine as long I don't tell lies. You have my consent." Harry winked at Snape playfully.

"Good." Snape pushed the tea toward Harry. "Drink it!"

"WAIT!" McGonagall protested in horror, "the ministry also requires the consent of his guardian for this proceeding…"

But she was too late, Harry swallowed the liquid. He shuddered as a warm feeling coursed through his body. A serene happiness gradually clouded his senses.

Suddenly, everything appeared wonderful. Even Snape's hair appeared to be washed. If you tit your head and squirt you eyes, Snape somewhat resembled George Summerfield (the star seeker of Wimbourne Wasps) and Merlin himself. Wow, Snape looked like a respectable king with golden halo emitting from his hair. Even McGonagall looked younger by thirty years, as she leaned against the throne, seductively like a cat.

Harry's mind wandered aimlessly until a voice from heaven spoke to him, "Ah. Good, if you have ingested any anecdote beforehand, my trap potion would had killed you by now. Harry… Gaunt, I commend you to empty your thoughts and answer with only the sincere truth. Only respond with simple and clear answers. Use yes or no where sufficient. Let us begin. State your name."

"Harry Griphus Gaunt."

There was a long pause. "State your birth name."

"Harry Griphus Gaunt."

"Name of birth parents?"

"Cecilia and Traian Guant"

"Birth Date?"

"July 31, 1980."

"Have you input any false information on your Hogwarts application?"

"No"

The voice seemed unsatisfied with him and sped up its questions,

"What are your true intentions for attending Hogwarts?"

"To learn magic and…"

"And?"

"And to receive my inheritance."

"Greedy little... Do you harbor any ill/alternative motives toward Hogwarts students?"

"No…wait...actually I do harbor some ill motive toward Draco Malfoy, I'd like to punch his arrogant face."

"Do you harbor any ill motives toward the teachers?"

"No"

"Towards the Dark Lord?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"What are you feelings regarding the Dark Lord?"

Harry paused. His nagging headache suggested that he should lie as little as possible. But now the questions were getting personal. He supposed that Voldemort can easily evoke many feelings in most people, but he was not like most people. Harry knew what answer was excepted of him, but,

"I'm not certain how I feel about the Dark Lord… I suppose I admire his brilliance and fear his power. But I have never actually met the guy, so I'm reserving judgments."

"Oh? Very clever…nonsense. It answers nothing about you." The voice sounded mildly impressed, which made Harry beam, "What are you feelings towards the Order of Phoenix?"

"I am generally scared of the Order of Phoenix, because they're terrorists, but I am also curious how they managed to evade capture for so long. So I guess I'm also reserving judgments until I get a chance to meet the Order members."

"…And how do you plan to meet the Order of Phoenix?"

"Ok. Ok. I'm reserving judgments if I get a chance to meet the Order members."

"What is your relationship with Lily and James Potter?"

"None. Although I have read about them."

"What is your relationship with Albus Dumbledore?"

"None... I thought Dumbledore is dead?"

The questions sped up even more. Harry was gigging over the fact that even the voices in his head have thin patience.

"Recall carefully, do you hold any connection to the resistance?"

"No."

"What are you secrets?"

"I have a lot of secrets. Um…I broke Gagnére's broom last month and blamed it on Louis. I actually believe Love in the Chocolate Cauldron is a good song. I promised Hermione that I will not report Millicent for attacking her like a savage…"

"Enough! Only state your most important and relevant secret."

Harry seems to be struggling within himself before replying reluctantly, "Promise not to tell? I think... I think that Headmaster Snape is an ugly, mean bat-man. Also he and Professor McGonagall are secretly engaged romantically."

McGonagall swiftly pulled Harry out of the Headmaster's office before Snape could erupt. The haze around Harry's thoughts cleared as they passed Hermione at the foot of the stairs. Harry felt guilty for sending her in with Snape in such a terrifying state.

McGonagall walked in front of Harry in huge strides. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, which unusually indicated anger.

Harry tentatively broke the silence, "Pro…Professor? I want to apologies for the romantic thing. I wasn't thinking clearly"

McGonagall looked surprised, "Oh dear, did you think I am angry? No, I was just mourning. I thought… but I am glad you are Harry Gaunt. I'm just relief that you are alright."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's complicated. Veritaserum is… famous for its side-effects."

"Harry," McGonagall's expression softened. "I know I am not you head of house, but please don't hesitate to ask me for help or even just to talk. I'll my utmost to help you. I have already disappointed too many of my past students."

They walked in silence until they have reached McGonagall's office. Harry knotted his eyebrows in concentration before finally reaching a decision,

"Professor. There is actually something I need help with."

Harry ignored his logic, which was screaming for him to shut up.

"When I was reading A History of Magic, I came across few subjects that seem fascinating. There are few books that I need in the restricted section for …research purposes. Nothing special, but I still need teacher's signatures to retrieve them."

Harry nervously handed over his book list. McGonagall peered at him suspiciously, "I would like to help but…"

She gave an audible grasp as she scanned the first name on Harry's list. There, scrawled clearly in black ink, were the bold letters: Potter Family Genealogy.

McGonagall pulled Harry into her office. She turned pale and, as soon as the door was shut, she began to holler at him in the quietest and gravest way possible,

"What in Merlin's name do you are think your doing? Why... how... who are you?"

After ten minutes of lecture, Harry bit his lips but still won't reply. McGonagall signed at his stubbornness,

"Harry, you are too much like your parents. But someone your age should try to understand that in this world there will be circumstances that we don't like and powerful people that we don't agree with. If you want change, then first make sure you live long enough to acquire the power for action. Whatever you are doing, drop it now! Don't let anyone catch you with this. Don't let me catch you with this! Or else I will guarantee you detentions for the rest of your Hogwarts career." McGonagall waved Harry's crumbled book list and slammed the door in his face.

Harry wanted to sign too, McGonagall didn't even return his list.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The Slytherin common room was a semi-circular, two-story chamber. A ring of torches lighted the room. Its lights shone softly upon the silver decorations, most of which were ancient, goblin-made swords that hung on the walls. The floors were white marble and a mosaic of a green locket with an 'S' was the centerpiece of the room. Seven circles of elf-curved armchairs were arranged neatly around the mosaic.

On the opposite end, there were two silver staircases that led up to the balconies of the dormitory. The girls' and boys' entrances were guarded by mobile statues of Aphrodite and Zeus, respectively. In between the stairs, there was a beautiful, grand fireplace that stood over four meters high with a thin waterfall erupting amid the fire, which looked like a tranquil dragon swimming amongst an ocean of flames.

The common room was the very embodiment of splendor and comfort. So it should provide an enjoyable environment for the Slytherins, right? WRONG.

Recently, the game of Opera Gobstones became very popular amongst the pure bloods. (Opera Gobstones is very similar to the Muggle game of marbles, excepted the Gobstones are controlled by the quality of one's singing and the stones tend to spit an unpleasant liquid at your opponent when they miss a particular pitch.) Thus, there was never a moment of silence in Slytherin.

Harry was extremely lucky to have obtained the last pair of ear muffles for merely ten galleons. Blaise, who was less fortunate, was turning green as Goyle's voice cracked midway through a soprano rendition of Ulisse.

Harry dangled his ear muffles in front of Blaise, "I'm willing to lend you my ear muffles for one night, in exchange for some inside scope on the Slytherins."

Blaise turned to Harry with a devouring glint in his eyes, "Off course, anything for a friend. Who are you interested in?"

"Everyone interesting."

"Ok. Then I will start with the leaders of each year. In seventh years, there is Head boy Horatio Crouch, whom I believe you've met. He is the younger brother of Barty Crouch Jr., an inner circle member and head of the Research Division at the Department of Mystery. You better not let Crouch catch you speaking ill of the Dark Lord. Once, in his forth year, Crouch tried few of his brother's spells on three, older Hufflepuffs and they were never heard from again."

Next, Blaise pointed to a troll-like boy sitting next to Crouch, "That's Marcus Flint, heading the fifth years and the Quidditch Captain. He's bigger as a gorilla but relatively harmless."

Somewhere in the background, people cheerd because Goyle's song was finally over.

"Leading the sixth years are the two Perfects— Ciro Lenoir and Vilimaina Binns." Blaise gestured toward a handsome black boy, who was talking intimately to a girl who looked suspiciously like a female vision of Malfoy.

He continued, "Lenoir is heir to the biggest potion supply chain in the world. He is also my half bother. Our mother is from Kenya. His father was a merchant from Mexico, while my father was a Quidditch player from Italy. Thus, I am blessed with my mother's perfect features and father's great build."

Harry has to cough to wake Blaise from his daydream. Harry pointed toward the blond girl, who was busy draping herself in Ciro's lap.

"Then I suppose Vilimaina is related to Professor Binns?"

Blaise frowned, "She's the Professor's sister. Although she's a bit of enigma, like you. Don't denial it, Harry. You can't hide a secret at Hogwarts for long. Anyways, very little is known about Vilimaina, except that she got the best information network in Hogwarts…and the tightest lips."

"Umm… let see. Ah ha!" Blaise's eyes settled on the back of dark-haired boy, who were conversing quietly to a group of students.

"Here's the most dangerous character in all of Slytherin. Ciro told me that he rather fight a troll than to cross Riddle. Tom Riddle, all around good student, winner of the Hogwarts Awards for Services to the School, and captain of the Dueling Club."

As if he heard them, Riddle lifted his head and looked right at Harry. For a brief moment, Harry thought Riddle's green eyes flashed red and, instantly, he felt a burning sensation at the scar on his forehead.

Blaise pulled Harry's head down, thus, breaking off his eye contact with Riddle.

"Be careful. Riddle is rumored to be the true leader in Slytherin. Even though he's only in fourth year, I heard he actually has control over the older students, including Crouch. Riddle may even have an inner circle position reserved for him once he graduates. So he is definitely dangerous. On the bight side, I think Malfoy is stupid enough to try to expand his power by recruiting second years. Ha, I can't wait for Riddle to take him down a notch, hopefully painfully."

Blaise chuckled at Malfoy's impending doom. Harry realized that he doesn't know why Blaise dislike Malfoy so much. Blaise doesn't seem to be interested in overthrowing Malfoy and given their similar backgrounds, Blaise and Malfoy ought to be best friends.

Harry looked around the common room, the higher years don't look dumb enough to be manipulated, so Harry guess he will have to obtain his books some other way. The characters that Blaise motioned added to his problem. They are dangerous variables, variables that his guardian couldn't foresee. Harry thought he will just have to avoid them—especially Riddle.

Blaise continued to introduce the other, less interesting Slytherins. Too bad for Harry that Blaise has such a great memory, he can listing family trees for hours. Harry realized too late that Blaise likes to hear himself speak as much as Ron. Except, off course, Slytherins never reveal anything constructive without a price.

(1) Direct/ Indirect quote from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows by J K Rowling.

(2) Direct/ Indirect quote from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J K Rowling.

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