When Callidus returned to the Slytherin dungeon, he saw Harry and Tracey Davis sitting together at a couple of high-back chairs, chatting. Harry smiled when he saw Callidus. Davis tilted her head, but she wore her usual guarded expression.
"How was your detention?" Harry asked.
"It was alright. Flitwick isn't exactly strict," Callidus replied, keeping his answer ambiguous.
"Tracey and I were with Slughorn," Harry replied. "He had us counting ingredients inventory. It wasn't too bad - I guess Pansy was right about that. We were with Seamus."
Callidus felt a twinge of irritation. Calling Finnigan 'Seamus'? Was Harry on a first name basis with everyone?
"Finnigan seems tolerable for a Gryffindor," Davis added.
Harry grinned. "We got into a discussion about flying. Well Tracey and Seamus both grew up flying." Harry's expression grew wistful. "I wish I had known how amazing flying could be before yesterday. I feel like I've been missing out."
"You've a natural talent, Harry," Davis said, smiling. Like all her other expressions, Davis's smile was reserved.
"Thanks Tracey!" Harry replied. They were interrupted by the entry of Malfoy, whose grey eyes glittered with murderous rage.
"I bloody hate that Weasel and that wretched old witch!" Malfoy ground out, stomping towards Harry, Callidus and Davis. Malfoy threw himself into a chair, in boneless heap, crossing his arms.
"That bad?" Harry asked sympathetically.
"Worse," Malfoy groaned. "McGonagall had us write a paper on how Gryffindors and Slytherins can get along. She wanted at least five reasons. I don't even think there's a tenth of a reason to get along with Gryffindors, let alone five. I could think of five reasons to kill Gryffindors. Maybe even fifteen reasons on a good day. On top of that, that Weasel is a bloody mouth-breather with the intellectual capacity of a parsnip. McGonagall forced us to sit next to each other, and I swear that Weasel is incapable of keeping his joints to himself. I felt defiled, just having to sit next to that pillock. I must say, one of us is going to end up dead by the end of the month. Preferably the Weasel. If McGonagall hadn't been watching our every move, I would have hexed him blind, limbless - and possibly without entrails."
"I think you're confusing hexes with curses, Malfoy," Callidus drawled.
Malfoy rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored him. "This month is going to be torture. I think I'd prefer to submit to the Cruciatus curse."
"Cruciatus curse?" Harry asked.
"The torture curse," Callidus explained. Harry gave Malfoy another sympathetic look.
"Do you think McGonagall would let you switch and do detention with someone else?" Harry asked.
Malfoy scowled. "That old harridan? Unlikely."
"You could always ask," Harry continued.
"Why, are you offering?" Malfoy asked, his tone bordering sarcastic.
"Er -" Harry's expression was pained. If it was anyone else but Weasley, he probably would have switched. On the other hand, Malfoy was his friend. And having never had friends, Harry was determined to be a good friend. "Yes?"
Malfoy's eyes almost bulged out of his head. "You'd switch? Really?" The blond's anger quickly dissipated and was replaced by a mix of bemusement and hope.
"Erm - yeah?" Harry looked uncomfortable, but also determined. Callidus didn't know if he wanted to kill Malfoy or Weasley. Harry really was too nice for his own good. For a brief moment, Callidus wondered if Lily would have been the same. Would she have wanted to adopt every wayward stray that came her way? The idea left him feeling confused and uncomfortable. Callidus couldn't deny that he had possessive tendencies. Sharing Harry's friendship with Malfoy was irritating enough.
"We can speak to McGonagall tomorrow," Malfoy said. Callidus felt a rising rage towards Malfoy. Did the idiot blond not remember how Weasley had treated Harry? How could Malfoy be so selfish? On the other hand, this was Slytherin. Slytherins went for any advantage that they could get. Maybe it was a mistake to convince Harry to join the Slytherins.
"Are you sure about this, Harry?" Callidus asked, hoping to dissuade his friend. "I mean, this is Weasley we're talking about. I don't think that blithering idiot has a barrier between his brain and his tongue."
Harry frowned, looking even more uncomfortable. "Well, it's what friends do right? Help each other?"
Callidus swept a disdainful look at Malfoy. To his surprise, the blond had the decency to look guilty. But Harry had made up his mind. Though Callidus tried to argue further it was impossible to deter Harry from his course of actions.
Callidus, Harry, Malfoy and Davis were eventually joined by the other first years as they returned from their detention, all of them grousing and complaining about their experiences. Of course, this only caused Harry to feel guilty. Especially once the adrenaline of flying had worn off, and the reality of detentions had come crashing down.
"I'm sorry, everyone," Harry said, biting down on his lower lip. "If I hadn't flown off after Weasley, none of this wouldn't have happened."
Callidus frowned at Harry's apology. It seemed dangerous, to let oneself be chastened by a group of Slytherins. Harry should have kept quiet, or if not that, then owned up to his actions with pride. Malfoy, who was just as aware of Harry's slip up, glared at the other first years.
Meanwhile Callidus catalogued the reactions of the other Slytherins. Greengrass and Nott wore apprising looks. Millicent Bulstrode shrugged indifferently, but then praised Harry's flying. Zabini was unreadable aside from a mysterious smile. But Parkinson was sympathetic.
"Weasley deserved it," Parkinson said firmly. None of the Slytherins could argue with that. They all relaxed as they fell into a discussion about the worst of the Gryffindor faults. And there were many, many Gryffindor faults.
Over the weekend, Harry and Malfoy spoke to Professor McGonagall about changing places in detention. To Callidus's eternal delight, the old witch refused to switch their placement.
"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry said, patting his friend on the back. Callidus rolled his eyes. Malfoy hardly needed more compassion. If anything, Malfoy deserved to be stuck with Weasley.
"It's alright, Harry," Malfoy replied. "I didn't think that old shrew would switch us anyway." Malfoy paused, looking deep in thought. "Thank you though. Uh - for offering, that is." Malfoy's ears were pink.
Harry smiled. "You're my friend. I'm sure you'd do the same." Callidus pursed his lips hard. If he didn't, he would have spat out something insulting towards Malfoy. Callidus was convinced Malfoy was selfish to the core and considering how abashed Malfoy appeared to be, Malfoy probably knew it as well. Instead, Malfoy just nodded, somehow looking pinker than ever.
The following Monday found Callidus, Harry and Malfoy back in the library. But this time, Harry had asked Davis to join them. Davis looked pleased by the invite and when she smiled at Harry, Callidus thought it was the first genuine smile he had seen from her. But her face resumed its normal guarded expression soon after.
Callidus knew that Harry had invited Parkinson as well. To Callidus's relief, Parkinson turned him down. ("The library? Really, Harry? I've got better things to do. People's deepest secrets are rarely discovered the in the library you know. Unless - have you happened to come across any secret couples snogging in the library? Ha - judging from your blush, I'm guessing not.")
It was no surprise to see Granger alone at one of the library tables. As Callidus gave it more thought, he realized that he never seen Granger in anyone's company - not even the other Gryffindors. More than once, he had seen her at the Great Hall during meals, reading a book instead of speaking to the other students.
'It's no surprise that no one wants to be her friend,' he thought. But for some reason, the idea made him feel bad. He quickly shoved his feelings aside, and focused on the Slytherins instead. Callidus's detentions with Granger and Flitwick meant that he was ahead in his schoolwork rather than behind, but he took advantage of this to research Potions.
Callidus decided to start on a paper detailing the effects of different ingredient preparations. It was both a basic and yet advanced topic. By the end of first year, most students should know why dicing versus slicing yielded different results. But what of potion ingredients that had been sun-dried versus oven dried? Or the use of flowers picked by hand rather than collected with magic? He collected the books he would need and set them down on the library table.
It took only fifteen minutes before Harry started bouncing his leg, and tapping on his page. In another five minutes, Harry was sighing and mussing up his hair. Davis looked like she wanted to say something to Harry but held herself back and Callidus was thankful for her restraint. If only Malfoy could be so disciplined. Like before, Callidus stood up. Malfoy gave him a knowing look, while Davis kept her expression neutral, though he could see that she was curious.
Callidus wove his way through the aisles, this time Callidus heading to the historical section rather than fiction. He scanned the titles until he found what he was looking for. With a triumphant smile, he returned to the table, and set the ornate leather bound book in front of Harry.
"The Birth of Merlin," Harry read, before flipping over the cover. The illuminated detailing in this book were beautiful - scrolling calligraphy, gold leafed illustrations, elaborate borders.
"The book was written in the 1600s," Callidus said. "But it's important part of Wizarding history - Merlin that is. Don't give me that look, Harry. Trust me, it's interesting. Just read it." Callidus's lip quirked upwards at Harry's doubtful expression. But Harry had enjoyed The Tales of Beedle the Bard, so perhaps he would enjoy reading about the adventures of Merlin as well.
Just as Callidus guessed, Harry became engrossed in his reading. Davis was looking at Harry with that typical, Slytherin look of calculation while Malfoy looked relieved that Harry had quieted down and was actually reading. The blond had picked up on what Callidus was doing. As much as he and Malfoy disliked each other, they tried to set their differences aside for Harry.
Detentions with Granger turned out to be tolerable. While Callidus wasn't thrilled about having to sit next to Granger on a daily basis, they had reached a silent truce. Quite literally a silent truce, since neither of them ever said anything to each other. The rustling of leaves was louder than Callidus and Granger alone together in the same room.
Sometimes Callidus thought he could see Granger peeking over at what his was writing. He would have been more annoyed but in truth, he also peeked over at her work. Of all the students in the school, her intelligence rivalled his own. Even the Ravenclaws didn't measure up. So of course it only made sense to see what she was doing. It was collecting information, like any reasonable Slytherin would do. But she was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors were supposed to be 'noble' and 'fair.' Callidus thought that Granger was pretty sneaky for a Gryffindor, and he would have liked to call her out on her behaviour. But then he'd break their truce of silence, so instead, he said nothing.
Callidus woke up on Thursday with a sense of dread. Harry, Malfoy and Davis had been excused from flying lessons. The three of them had proved themselves proficient on broomsticks. But unlike Harry, Callidus had no natural talent for flying. The idea of not being firmly on the ground made his stomach lurch. This meant he was stuck with Nott, Greengrass and Bulstrode on the Slytherin side. And Granger, Longbottom, Patil and Brown on the Gryffindor side.
Spotting the smiling Wystan Overcliff in the common room that morning, Callidus handed the older boy his completed Potions paper. Then Callidus went down to the Great Hall with the other first years, his appetite non-existent. After giving Harry the book about Merlin, Harry had become fascinated with the historical wizard, and his recent comments usually began along the lines of "I can't believe that Merlin -" or "Did you know that Merlin -" It was a good thing Merlin actually was an interesting wizard. Even Davis and Malfoy were happy enough to discuss Merlin, and on occasion, Parkinson joined in.
As Callidus forced down a piece of dry toast, he listened to Parkinson's chatter across the Slytherin table. If one wanted to know what was happening, one only had to listen to Parkinson. Though it was only their third week, she had established herself as the Queen of Gossip, at least among the first years (and maybe even the second years).
"Has anyone noticed the way that Vincent and Gregory have been following that pair of Hufflepuff girls around?" Parkinson was saying in her guileful tone. This caused almost all the Slytherin first years to look towards the Hufflepuff table. Crabbe and Goyle were blissfully ignorant of their stares as they scarfed down everything that they could fit in their mouths.
"You mean Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones?" Millicent Bulstrode asked as she spread marmalade on her toast.
"The blonde and the carrot top?" Parkinson continued. "Yes, I believe that's them."
"Abbott and Bones sit in front of me in Charms class. I overheard them talking about cooking magic," Davis said softly. "They were talking about baking cookies that could also induce good dreams."
"Is that what it is?" Parkinson cackled gleefully. "Ha! Vincent and Gregory always were led by their stomachs rather than their heads."
"Crabbe and Goyle's stomachs are their heads," Malfoy drawled before turning to Harry. "I swear - Harry! How many times do I have to tell you not to eat with your hands! You're not a barbarian!"
Harry rolled his eyes. Instead of obeying, he picked up another piece of bacon with his fingers and popped it in his mouth, chewing with deliberate slowness. Harry was only ever well-mannered when the mood suited him, but he had a tendency to like to push Malfoy's boundaries. Callidus thought that part of that was due to his own influence on Harry - it was so amusing to provoke Malfoy after all.
Malfoy winced. "You're fingers are covered in grease. Ugh - I can't believe you just wiped your hands on your robes! How could you be so uncouth! Remind me never to invite you to dinners at the Manor."
"I licked my fingers first," Harry replied innocently, before laughing at Malfoy's pained expression.
"Oh Draco," Parkinson said with an affected sigh. "Just admit that you like when Harry does that. You've always liked telling other people what they can and can't do."
Malfoy glared at Parkinson, grey eyes narrowed. "I can't help it if I'm more refined than others. I'm a Malfoy. Others look to me for guidance."
Parkinson smirked. "Of course, Draco."
"Can you teach me how to have a stick stuck my my arse, Malfoy?" Zabini asked smoothly, his dark eyes glowing with amused mockery.
"Shut it, Zabini," Malfoy snapped, as the first year Slytherins sniggered.
They were interrupted by the Owl post. Once again, Malfoy got a care package from his parents, but Harry seemed more excited about the beautifully wrapped parcel than Malfoy was.
"Hm. Petit fours again? Mother just sent me some last week," Malfoy whinged, as he looked down at the gorgeous, colourful confections.
"If you don't want them, I'll take them," Harry said hopefully.
Malfoy rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. "How did you end up in Slytherin, Harry? You have no subtlety whatsoever."
"And you do? As far as I've seen, you've been all too easy to read, Draco" Parkinson said lightly from across the table. Malfoy and Parkinson's eyes met, and there was a flare of frosty hostility between them. The Slytherins watched in interest. It was a silent battle for dominance, but eventually Parkinson shrugged and looked away with affected indifference. Malfoy smirked, knowing that he had won. He turned his attention back to Harry.
"Prove that your behaviour is fit for polite company and I might consider sharing," Malfoy said to Harry in his snobbiest voice.
"Or, I could just wait a week for you to forget that you even have them and just take them," Harry replied with a cheeky smile. It was a smile that Callidus had seen on Lily's face many times.
The other Slytherin first years snickered with amusement. Parkinson snorted. "He knows you too well, Draco. But I have to say that Draco's right, Harry. For the life of me, I can't figure out how you ended up in Slytherin. It's hardly cunning to give away your whole plot before you've carried it out."
Harry's grin had a hint of slyness as he looked across the table at Parkinson. "Doesn't mean I won't get what I want, Pansy."
Callidus looked over at Harry. Three weeks of constant sniping between Harry and Malfoy and the other Slytherins had loosened Harry's tongue. Harry was starting to be as quick-tongued as the other first years. But while most Slytherins preferred snark, Harry's comments were usually more playful, and by growing accustomed to Malfoy's constant criticism of his manners, Harry had learned to let all the snide comments roll off his back. After all, if Harry didn't take Malfoy seriously, how could he take the other Slytherins seriously? Maybe Slytherin was the right choice for Harry after all, regardless of how the other first years teased him.
"You may be right, Harry," Parkinson replied with a slow smile. "I wonder, if my mother sent me petit fours and chocolates, would you rather be my friend instead of Draco's?"
Harry laughed with delight, while Malfoy looked horrified before quickly covering up his reaction.
"Oh Harry," Parkinson said with a fake sigh. "Your as easy to read as a puppy." Callidus noticed that Parkinson looked at Malfoy as she said this. Slytherins were fond of multiple meanings and they often hid venomous barbs behind innocuous sounding messages. Though Harry seemed oblivious, Malfoy recognized Parkinson's meaning. Parkinson may have said the words to Harry, but she meant them for Malfoy.
"Hey, even a puppy could take on a snake," Harry retorted.
Parkinson smiled lazily at Harry but once again, her gaze drifted towards Malfoy. "Oh, I don't doubt that. I don't doubt it at all."
A/N: Thanks for the reviews/favourites/follows!
Does anyone ever feel like writing a story is like trying to ride the back of an untamed animal? Sometimes it feels like this story just gets away from me, and so many unexpected little (and sometimes big) things just happen. If I don't control it, it becomes a sprawling mess (which unfortunately is what I think happened to my other story)