I own nothing but my OC's. All OC's belong to their rightful owners.
Heather woke up on Sunday morning to find the dormitory blazing with winter sunlight and her arm perfectly fine. She sat up quickly and looked over at Colin's bed, but it had been blocked from view by the high curtains Heather had changed behind yesterday. Seeing that she was awake, Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a breakfast tray and then began running diagnostic spells.
"All in order," she said as she nibbled on her bacon. "When you've finished eating, you may leave."
Heather dressed as quickly as she could and hurried off to Gryffindor Tower, desperate to tell Ron and Hermione about Colin and Dobby. She found them getting all of their stuff together and Hermione had Heather's robes with her as well. Heather started to tell them about Colin, but Hermione interrupted.
"We already know - we heard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick this morning. That's why we decided we'd better get going -"
"The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better," snarled Ron. "D'you know what I think? He was in such a foul temper after the Quidditch match; he took it out on Colin."
"He didn't do it and there's something else," said Heather, putting on her robes. "Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night."
Ron and Hermione looked up, amazed. Heather told them everything Dobby had told her - or hadn't told her. Hermione and Ron listened with their mouths open.
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" Hermione said.
"This settles it," said Ron in a triumphant voice. Heather rolled her eyes but figured instead of trying to tell him he was wrong, she could just wait until she was proven right. Ron continued on, "Lucius Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it. It's obvious. Wish Dobby'd told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school."
"Maybe it can make itself invisible," said Hermione, "Or maybe it can disguise itself - pretend to be a suit of armor or something - I've read about Chameleon Ghouls -"
"You read too much, Hermione," said Ron.
"So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your arm." Ron shook his head. "You know what, Heather? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you."
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 Heather 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. Ron signed her list; he had heard that Malfoy was staying, which struck him as very suspicious.
"Heather." Hermione said as the trio was walking down to the dungeons for Potions. "How come Myrtle seemed to like you?"
"Oh that." Heather said. "It happened during first year…"
FLASHBACK
Heather had just finished hunting; it took her a little longer than usual to find some food so she was out past curfew. She sneaked silently through the halls, ears out and pricked for any noise. Those sensitive ears picked up the sounds of a girl crying. Heather saw that it was coming from the girl's bathroom. The door was open and there was water all over the floor.
Quietly slipping through into the room she saw it was a ghost that was sobbing on the U-bend, about fourteen to fifteen years old. She was very petite, had dark hair in pigtails and she was exceptionally pale, even by ghost standards.
"Hello." Heather said. The ghost girl froze. "Are you okay?"
"Go away!" The ghost snapped.
"What's wrong?" Heather asked, stepping closer.
"It's none of your business!" The ghost yelled, still not looking at Heather.
"If you wanna talk, I'll listen." Heather said calmly. She leapt up and climbed onto the pipe the ghost was using. She sat up there, next to the ghost, swinging her legs. She waited, listening to the girl's sobs, a minuet, and five minutes before she decided to do something.
"I wouldn't wanna be anybody else, yeah"
Heather hopped off the pipe and landed with a large splash.
"You made me insecure, told me I wasn't good enough
But who are you to judge.
When you're a diamond in the rough"
The ghost girl looked up and Heather saw that she had round glasses. Her eyes were a little puffy from crying and tear trails could be seen on her face.
"I'm sure you got some things
You'd like to change about yourself
But when it comes to me
I wouldn't want to be anybody else"
Heather started dancing around the bathroom. Her dance wasn't something you could label but a few ballet moves could be picked out every now and then.
"Na na na na na na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na na na na na na
I'm no beauty queen, I'm just beautiful me"
"Na na na na na na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na na na na na na
You've got every right to a beautiful life, come on"
Heather smiled and looked at the ghost when she started singing.
"Who says, who says you're not perfect
Who says you're not worth it
Who says you're the only one that's hurting
Trust me that's the price of beauty
Who says you're not pretty
Who says you're not beautiful, who says?"
The girl stopped crying and was watching the living one of them dance around and sing.
"It's such a funny thing
How nothing's funny when it's you
You tell 'em what you mean
But they can't whiten out the truth"
Heather started doing some more impressive moves, displaying her flexibility and agility.
"It's like the work of art
That never gets to see the light
Keep you beneath the stars
Won't let you touch the sky"
Heather kept smiling and dancing, trying her best to cheer up the sorrowful ghost.
"Na na na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na na na
I'm no beauty queen, I'm just beautiful me"
"Na na na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na na na
You've got every right to a beautiful life, come on"
Heather was pleased to see a small smile on the dead girl's face. It wasn't a massive grin, but it was still a smile nonetheless.
"Who says, who says you're not perfect
Who says you're not worth it
Who says you're the only one that's hurting
Trust me that's the price of beauty
Who says you're not pretty
Who says you're not beautiful, who says?"
Heather quickly hopped up and sat next to the ghost girl again. She sat right next to the transparent girl with a smile and kept singing.
"Who says you're not star potential
Who says you're not presidential
Who says you can't be in movies
Listen to me, listen to me baby"
Heather was pointing her finger at the ghost, as if she were a mother telling these words to a pup. The other girl was smiling a bit bigger now and giggling a little.
"Who says you don't pass the test
Who says you can't be the best
Who said, who said?
Would you tell me who said that, yeah
Who said"
Heather leapt off the pipe and started dancing around again, the ghost girl smiling openly as she watched her.
"Who says, who says you're not perfect
Who says you're not worth it
Who says you're the only one that's hurting
Trust me that's the price of beauty
Who says you're not pretty
Who says you're not beautiful, who says?"
"Who says you're not perfect
Who says you're not worth it
Who says you're the only one that's hurting
Trust me that's the price of beauty
Who says you're not pretty
Who says you're not beautiful, who says?"
Heather bowed with exaggeration. The ghost clapped.
"Thanks, I'm Heather. What's your name?" Heather tilted her head to the side.
"Myrtle." She said, floating down to Heather.
"So, Myrtle, do you wanna tell me what happened?"
END OF FLASHBACK
"That was really sweet Heather." Hermione said with a warm smile.
"Thanks. Gives me a warm fuzzy feeling, making someone smile after a crappy day." Heather said as the trio walked into Snape's room. Making someone feel better felt much more rewarding than making someone feel bad.
Potions lessons took place in one of the large dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindors' work while the Slytherins sniggered appreciatively. Draco Malfoy, who was Snape's favorite student, kept flicking puffer-fish eyes at Ron, who knew that if he retaliated he would get detention faster than you could say "Unfair."
Heather's Swelling Solution was doing very well; she had been partnered with Hermione this year. Ron was with Seamus Finnegan. They weren't doing too well; according to Snape it was far too runny. This left the two boys in a very sour mood. Heather and Hermione were already on part two of the potion.
Add 1 bat spleen to the cauldron
Stir 4 times, counter-clockwise
Heat to low for 30 seconds
Wave your wand to complete the potion
With a wave of Heather's wand, they were finished. Hermione put some of their potion in a vial, put both of their names on it and turned it in up front while Heather cleaned up their station and put everything away. After they were done with that, Heather and Hermione started writing an essay about Sleeping Draughts, the potion they were to talk about for the next lesson.
Suddenly, a wad of crumpled up parchment hit Heather in the side of her head while she was writing down the ingredients. Instinctively she tensed and growled, her fangs bared and claws out. She saw Malfoy sitting across the room, smirking. Heather glared at him lightly and a quiet growl rumbled in her throat. Already knowing what it asked, Heather unfolded the parchment and in surprisingly curvy penmanship read,
'I can help you get rid of Lockhart. I know you hate him princess, come on.'
From-
D.L.M
Heather wrote her answer on the other side, and when Snape wasn't looking, threw it at Malfoy. He caught it in one hand. Heather raised a brow; apparently he did have some Seeker talent.
'I don't need your help, and stop calling me princess!'
Sincerely-
H.L.P
A week later, Heather, Ron, and Hermione were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited.
"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days...
"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he, too, read the sign with interest.
"Could be useful," he said to Heather and Hermione as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"
Heather and Hermione were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.
"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 -" Heather began, but she 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.
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." Heather rolled her eyes with a growl.
"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!"
"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Heather's ear.
Snape's upper lip was curling. Heather wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; Snape was looking at Lockhart like she did at poachers, which were even worse than hunters. Suffice to say death typically followed that look, which made Heather's tail spring out and wag excitedly.
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," Heather murmured excitedly, watching Snape baring his teeth. If he killed Lockhart Heather would have to hug him, even if she got a months detention, it would be worth it.
"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.
Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Heather cheered to. Because the girl-who-lived started clapping and howling, many other Gryffindors warmed up to the situation and began clapping as well, including Hermione. Snape smirked and nodded his head to the students. He may not be described as a vain man, but anyone would love to receive credit for knocking Lockhart off his feet.
Lavender Brown was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.
"Who cares?" said Heather 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. Heather grinned a fanged smile, maybe he would do it. If he did, she would testify for him in court.
"Your honor if anything this man should get an award for service to the community."
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, but Snape reached Heather and Ron first.
"Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter -"
Heather moved automatically toward Hermione.
"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of Miss Potter. And you, Miss Granger - you can partner Miss Bulstrode."
Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Heather shrugged; she was cool with that to. Behind him walked a Slytherin girl who reminded Heather of a picture she'd seen in Holidays with Hags when she skimmed through the book. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.
"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"
Heather and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.
"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 -"
Heather swung her wand high, but Malfoy had already started on "two": His spell hit Heather so hard she felt as though she'd been kicked in the head by a deer. She stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, Heather pointed her wand straight at Malfoy and shouted, "Rictusempra!"
A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.
"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees; Heather had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing. Heather hung back, giving the dork a chance to fight back, he didn't know how to do any real damage and Heather could see how many spells the blonde knew. Maybe she could learn new ones she could use. Gasping for breath, Malfoy pointed his wand at Heather's knees, choked; "Tarantallegra!" and the next second Heather's legs began to jerk around out of her control in a kind of quickstep.
"You know I can dance better than this right?" Heather asked as she tried to get her legs to stop. Still laughing, Malfoy managed a nod.
"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge.
"Finite Incantatem!" he shouted; Heather's feet stopped dancing, Malfoy stopped laughing, and they were able to look up.
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. Heather leapt forward and yanked Millicent off. It wasn't hard. Heather had fought with other wolves and wrestled with animals three times her size.
"Back off." Heather growled.
"Why don't you back off Potter?" Bulstrode glared.
Heather snarled ferociously, her fangs elongated and sharp. With a few swift attack barks and a menacing step forward, Bulstrode took a step back.
"Hermione, if she gives you any more trouble, just say the word and I'll make sure she doesn't bother you again." The she-wolf said, her claws lengthening and her ears popping out.
"That won't be necessary." Hermione said with a nervous smile.
Heather glared at Bulstrode, gave her a warning growl before stalking back to a smirking Malfoy.
"Don't mess with the Wolf Princess." Malfoy said.
"If you know that, then why do you still do it?" Heather asked, trying to not let the amusement show on her face. "And don't call me princess!"
"I've learned where some of the boundaries are." He said simply.
"And what boundaries are they?" Heather couldn't help but smirk as well.
Lockhart strode up to them. "Ah young-"
Heather turned on him, lightning flashed and she snarled. "Finish that sentence and I'm gonna rip your small intestine out your mouth, and rip your large intestine out your butt, and use you as a skipping rope."
Lockhart paled and quickly walked away. Malfoy started a slow clap.
"That was beautiful, princess." He smirked.
"Stop calling me that!"
"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, Boot. 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 Heather and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.
"Now, Heather," 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 -" Heather looked up at everyone else in the room like 'seriously? This is the help I get?'
Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Heather suddenly felt on edge, this could not end well.
"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.
"You're the one who should be scared," said Heather out of the corner of her mouth.
Lockhart cuffed Heather merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Heather!"
"What, drop my wand?"
But Lockhart wasn't listening.
"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.
Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"
The end of his wand exploded. Heather watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. It was really a beautiful snake, about a foot long, a cobra with gold markings on the back of its hood, gold underbelly and golden eyes. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor. She had to admit, Heather was impressed. She'd have to learn that one later.
"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Heather standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it ...
"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.
Heather glared at the snake. "Leave him alone!" She said sternly.
The snake froze immediately and looked at Heather. "Where am I?" Its voice sounded like that of a female. "How did I get here?" She hissed, looking around the room.
"Calm down." Heather said, getting down on her knees and putting her hands behind her back, to show she meant no harm.
The snake slithered towards Heather cautiously, her forked tongue flickered out. She stopped in her tracks. "You smell like a wolf." She said, recoiling slightly.
"I guess you could say I am half wolf." Heather said. She reached out a hand for the snake, palm up. She retracted her claws and fangs. "Come here, I'll make sure they don't hurt you."
The snake seemed hesitant at first, before she slowly slithered toward Heather. The she-wolf felt something odd bubble up inside her as the snake got closer. It was warm and it seemed to fizz underneath her skin. Finally Heather touched the snake's smooth black scales.
Heather felt warmth start at her hand and surge through the rest of her body. The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up. It was so warm it was borderline uncomfortable. Heather noticed a golden glow start to radiate from the snake. A green one began to radiate from Heather herself. Suddenly, a green smoky thing came out of Heather's chest just as a gold one came from the snake's forehead. When they reached each other they coiled around each other before taking on a yellowish green color. It disappeared with a flash and the both of them stopped glowing.
The snake lay there, just as baffled as Heather was before slithering up Heather's arm and settling on her shoulders. She felt the warm black scales rest on her neck. The female snake looked at Heather with her golden eyes. The witch lifted a hand and gently stroked the snake's head.
"Congratulations Miss Potter, it seems you have discovered your bonded familiar." Snape's drawling voice snapped Heather out of her own little world with the snake. She turned her head to look at the Professor. He suddenly marched off stage. "Come with me."
Not seeing any reason not to, Heather jumped off the stage and people immediately parted to let her through. Professor Snape held one of the doors to the Great Hall open. Heather passed through.
"Thank you, sir." Heather said.
"Thank you." The snake hissed.
"I trust you can handle the class for a few minutes Professor Lockhart?" Snape asked. He didn't wait for an answer and turned away from the useless excuse of a wizard. Once the door was closed Snape turned towards Heather.
"Do you understand the magnitude of what you have done?" Snape asked.
"Bonding with my familiar? Yes, I've read that a familiar increases your magical strength and-"
"No, speaking to a snake." Snape interrupted.
"Is it bad that I spoke to her?" Heather asked.
"No, but sadly, due to prejudice and mostly ignorance, others will not see it that way." Snape sighed. "Ms Potter you must understand that this is something that many people will use to label you as a dark witch. Parseltongue is the language of serpents, as well as other magical serpent-based creatures, like the Runespoor, and those who can converse with them. An individual who can speak Parseltongue is known as a Parselmouth. It is an incredibly rare skill, and is typically hereditary. Nearly all known Parselmouths are descended from Salazar Slytherin."
Heather was quiet. Could she be Salazar Slytherin's descendant? Well her father was from a pureblood family, but he wasn't a Parselmouth. Maybe it was a dormant gene, like when a woman with blue eyes has a child who doesnt have blue eyes but then their child has blue eyes? She then focused on what Snape said about this ability labeling her as dark. She swelled with indignation. How could people judge her without knowing her?! The snake on her shoulder flickered her tongue out onto Heather's cheek.
"Calm yourself." She hissed. "Do not get angry; be calm, cool and collective."
Heather took a deep breath and let it out. She had to be calm, just like the snake said. She stroked the snake's head with her finger. "That's interesting," was all she said.
"Quite." Snape said, raising an eyebrow at her lack of outburst. Her temper was famous in the school and he had expected the young girl to start yelling. "Many Dark Wizards were Parselmouths, Herpo the Foul and…" Heather noticed him tense slightly, like he was remembering something he would rather not. "The Dark Lord are both prime examples."
"You aren't either of those old men." The snake hissed.
"I know." Heather hissed back. She then remembered something. "What is your name by the way?"
"I am called Reika." She hissed. Reika's gold eyes bore into Heather's emerald ones. "What is your name?"
"Heather," she said before turning to Snape. "As Reika here says I am not either of them, although it seems that Parselmouths in history have done big things, Salazar Slytherin helped found Hogwarts, Herpo the Foul created many spells and Voldemort did as well."
"Don't say his name." Snape said. Heather held in the urge to roll her eyes and the snake hissed mockingly. "Also, there is something you should be aware of." Heather looked up. "After your little 'episode' in Professor Lockhart's class," He put air quotes around the word episode. "You will be having private Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. It is more so for Professor Lockhart's safety."
Heather smirked a smirk worthy of Slytherin. "I'm sure I'll enjoy my studies with whoever my new Professor is."
"I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Ms Potter." Professor Snape said, giving her a hard stare, as if daring her to complain. Heather's eyes glittered with excitement.
"That will be just fine sir; anyone who can put Lockhart in his place has my respect." Snape had a tiny smirk on his face. Heather smirked, her fangs reappearing. "Besides, from what I hear you know quite a bit about the Dark Arts." She held out her hand. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend?" She phrased it like a question. Could they unite against Lockhart's stupidity?
"Making allies is a common practice in Slytherin." Snape said as he firmly shook Heather's hand.
"Well I was almost placed in Slytherin." Heather said with a cheeky grin. Reika laughed at the look on Snape's face. He looked completely flabbergasted; there was no mask of indifference. But it was back as soon as it left.
"Well it seems as though your bravery outshines the Slytherin qualities you posses." Snape said.
"What traits of Slytherin do you see?" Heather asked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity. She wanted the expert's opinion.
"You are determined, clever, ambitious, you come from the distinguished Potter line," Snape spat the name, reminding Heather of what Dumbledore said about Snape hating her father. Heather couldn't help but comment on that.
"I've heard that you and my father didn't get along well." Heather said.
Snape tensed, a look of anger flashing across his face before he reined his temper in and put on his emotionless mask. "We were not fond of each other, no."
"I just hope you know that I am not my father. I don't remember him at all; I feel nothing for him, except perhaps gratitude for defending my life. I'd hope that you could judge me for me and not my father, or my mother, who I'm told I resemble so much." Heather said.
"Well said." Reika hissed with a nod of her head.
"You are a deal more mature that your year mates." Professor Snape said. "I will keep that in mind, as long as you do as I instruct during our lessons."
"Of course sir." Heather said with a nod of her head. Her wolf ears twitched when she heard Ron yelling inside the Great Hall.
"I'm telling you Hermione, she's the Heir of Slytherin!" Ron shouted.
What!? Heather felt rage and indignation bubble up in her chest. She knew Ron had some prejudice, everyone did, but was he really so against anything remotely Slytherin that he would turn on the first friend he made at Hogwarts?! Thunder roared outside as Heather stormed inside, fangs bared and claws out. She was snarling belligerently, Reika flared her hood and bared her fans, hissing angrily. Even though Heather had only met Reika a few minutes ago, she could tell that she was a level headed snake by nature, but she was clearly angered at Ron's accusation.
"You're a Parselmouth!" Ron said angrily.
"Yeah, so?!" Heather growled.
"Ron, stop it!" Hermione said.
"She just stopped that snake from biting my head off!" Justin said angrily, shoving Ron's shoulder. Ron went bright red and started a screaming match with Justin. Thunder rumbled, lightning streaked across the sky, the dark clouds had blotted out the sun and the wind rattled the windows.
"In my defense I didn't know where I was." Reika hissed to Heather but she wasn't paying attention. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, her first human friend betraying her!
"Ron, I never touched Mrs. Norris! You said so yourself!" Heather yelled.
"Maybe you didn't, but that probably did!" Ron pointed an accusing at Reika.
"Heather," Reika hissed. "May I bite him?"
"No." Heather hissed back and stroked the snake's head. She was barely able to keep her rage under control. It bubbled just below the surface. She was digging her claws into her hand, making herself bleed.
"See! You're talking to that snake! You're the Heir of Sly-"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Malfoy had hit Ron with a full-body bind curse. Ron's entire body locked up and he fell onto the stone floor. Just as that happened, lightning flashed right next to the window, startling many students and cracking the windows. Heather stood there, still seething. Ron had accused her of being the Heir?! Hermione was her best friend and a muggleborn, and he had accused Heather of trying to kill her.
With red tingeing at the edges of her vision Heather spun around. She marched past Malfoy.
"Owl me when you want to discuss that proposition." Heather said quietly, her voice dripping with venom. She marched out of the Great Hall not looking back.
