Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter, it all belongs to J.K Rowling. I make no profit off of this or any one of my stories.
Authors Note 1:
I've spent a long time pondering how I wanted to do this chapter so I hope it turns out well. Leave me a review and let me know what you think.
Authors Note 2:
Thank you to my betas James Marx and mineng101 for their work on this story.
Recommendations
Travel Secrets Series (First, Second, Third) by E4mj.
Paradoxical Parallels by HistoryOnRepeat.
The Son of Lord Voldemort by Shopaholic1369.
They Shook Hands by Dethryl.
The Downward Spiral Series: Harry Potter and The Homecoming, Harry Potter and Salazar's Legacy, Harry Potter and The Year Of Broken Chains, Harry Potter and The Return of The Lost, Harry Potter and The Dirge of Hope, Harry Potter and The End of War by BolshevikMuppet99.
The Rarest Soul of All by DZ2.
Harry Potter and The Serpent Chronicles Book 1 The Prince of Slytherin by ACI100.
Review Answers
Sourcewalker: It was numerous things not one singular detail. For one example, the interaction between Harry and Rosier was originally set up very differently.
NerdDragonVoid: An interesting assessment. Malfoy is not the perfect Slytherin by any means, but I am hoping to make him at least more competent than he was in cannon.
DZ2: I wish I could say that the similarities you have pointed out were planned on my part. I see where you're coming from though.
"Speech"
'Internal Dialogue'
Parseltongue
Memories
Chapter 12: Struggles and Serpents.
Harry had only just made it back to his seat and realized that he was receiving a scathing look from his partner when the door flew open, admitting their head of house. "I would like you to all present your finished products to me for grading." Said Snape as the bell rang out, signifying the end of the double period.
"I'll take it to him." Said Harry courteously as he poured some of their completed potion into a small glass vial and stepped towards the front of the class, not noticing the disgusted look Malfoy shot him from behind as he gestured for Crabbe to follow him out of the potions room.
Harry placed the vial on the desk and quickly exited the room. It was lunch time in the Great Hall but Harry wasn't really one for lunch. He had never really gotten much to eat as a child, and though he didn't suffer from severe malnutrition or anything of the sort, he still found it rather difficult to consume three hearty meals a day. So instead, he decided to partake in his new favourite pastime, that being the exploration of the castle of Hogwarts.
Harry had not really braved the dungeons of the castle as of yet. They expanded far beyond the Slytherin common room, stretching down for Merlin only knew how long. Harry had never seen anyone really venture into their depths, but there was no express rule against it. And even if there had been, he wouldn't have been overly bothered by it. He figured now, while everyone was at lunch, was as good a time as any.
He walked for quite some time without noticing anything. On and on he plunged into the depths of the dungeon. The only feature of interest thus far was the fact that it was certainly getting far darker, the torches becoming less and less numerous the deeper he delved.
He had been walking deeper into the dungeon for about ten minutes when he heard it. A chorus of raspy voices coming from somewhere below him. They were still too far away for Harry to make out what they were saying, but they were definitely there.
For a moment he paused, unsure how to proceed. At first he had suspected that the voices may belong to the ghosts that inhabited the school, but it did not add up. There were too many voices, and they did not sound like those of the chattier of the Hogwarts spirits. So naturally, Harry drew the conclusion that there must be people down here. He hesitated; should he turn back? Or should he advance?
Sighing, Harry drew his wand and crept forward as quietly as he could. The voices grew louder and louder as Harry advanced, and soon Harry reached a corridor that he knew would lead to the source of the voices. He hesitated one more time before taking a deep breath and creeping around the corner, leading with his wand.
It turned out that Harry's concern had been baseless. As he turned the corner he realized that there was no one there at all. He blinked, confused at this development and examined the corridor more carefully. The corridor he had just came from led to a corridor that did not lead forward, but led to the left and to the right. The intriguing thing to Harry though were the portraits. They were not of wizards but of snakes.
He blinked again, more confused than ever. He had been so sure he had heard voices. Then he remembered that in the magical world it was not uncommon for portraits to interact with humans, but could animals do the same?
"Hello?" He began hesitantly, peeking curiously around at the serpentine imagery adorning the walls, "Can you understand me?"
For a moment there was silence, and then, very slowly, one of the larger serpents turned its great head towards Harry and spoke. "You're a speaker?"
"I am sorry, but I do not know what you are asking me."
"You can understand us?" Asked the snake, sounding almost excited by the prospect.
Harry's confusion was only growing but he decided to play along anyways. "Yes. But can't all witches and wizards understand portraits?"
"They can understand portraits of witches and wizards but not of snakes. Tell me, young one, have you ever spoken to one of our living brethren in the past?"
Harry was going to deny it, tell the snake he was crazy when he paused and his eyes went wide. He had always had a sort of affinity toward snakes, they had always seemed to seek him out, and though he had not done so in many years, he could remember as a young child having conversations with serpents, confessing his loneliness and his jealousy over his cousin. "I suppose I have." Admitted Harry cautiously.
"Than you are a speaker." Affirmed a different serpent who, like almost all of the snakes adorning the walls, had raised his head to gaze openly at the young boy in front of them.
"You keep using the term speaker; what does it mean? What is a speaker? What does it refer to?" Asked Harry, growing a little annoyed as he could tell he was still missing one vital piece to solving this puzzle.
"A speaker is any human that can speak with us serpents." Hissed the first snake.
Harry blinked as a sudden realization struck him, causing his eyes to grow wide with excitement. "So it's not something all witches and wizards can do?" He asked, for that is what he had assumed when he had been told for the first time of his true powers.
"No." Answered the second serpent. "It is a gift reserved for a very select few. Only those of the Slytherin dynasty can speak it."
"I am assuming you're not speaking of anyone in his house?" Asked Harry, knowing the answer but needing to hear it anyway.
"No, the Slytherin dynasty is the term given to the Slytherin bloodline. You humans call the ability Parseltongue."
As Harry's face broke out into a wide grin he was suddenly struck by yet another appifanny. "Can I speak to any serpent? Live, portraits, sculptures?"
"Any live snake would never be an issue." Spoke up a third serpent. "Any of our kind in a magical portrait would be the same case. You would not be able to speak to any serpent in muggle art though. And only magically enhanced sculptures would have the ability to interact with and understand those blessed with the gift."
Harry smiled ear to ear, thinking of all of the opportunities that awaited him. There were snakes all around the world, and some much closer at hand. After all, the Slytherin common room was designed by Salazar Slytherin himself, the place was practically crawling with serpentine decor. He had just made a mental note to research everything he could on the topic of Parseltongue and its origins and applications when one of the snakes caught him off guard with a rather off putting question.
"So you must be the Prince then?" The reaction was instantaneous. The serpents counterparts hissed furiously at him, Harry heard more curse words in those few seconds than he had heard since nights years ago where he would overhear his uncle's drunken rants. For a moment he wondered if serpents were more vulgar in nature than humans in terms of their vocabulary, and if so what caused it? Than he pushed those thoughts down, cursing his natural sense of curiosity as he refocused on the intriguing situation that was playing out before him.
"What do you mean Prince? I did not think there was such thing as Princes in the Wizarding World?"
"There isn't." Hissed the first snake that had spoken to him as it glared at the one who had clearly made a slip up. "Alois was foolish to speak of such things, put it out of your mind, young speaker."
"No." Harry hissed back, his eyes narrowing. "Tell me what he is speaking of. It was not merely a misuse of words."
"You are not worthy." This caught Harry off guard, as it came from a portrait further down the hall. Despite his lack of proximity to the portrait however, Harry had no issues understanding what it had said. Moments later, several smaller serpents were bullied to the side as a larger serpent pushed its way into a nearby portrait. The king cobra seemed to evaluate Harry as it pierced him with its intense yellow eyes. "You are not worthy, at least as of yet."
"What must I do?" Hissed Harry, growing rather annoyed at the lack of information on the topic.
"You are of Slytherin blood, if you're parents have not told you then clearly they deem you unworthy."
"My parents were murdered!" Harry hissed viciously at the offending serpent. "I never knew them, I am the last of the Slytherin bloodline, its heir, its soul survivor. It is my birth right to know of its secrets, I demand to know."
The cobra hissed agitatedly and for a moment Harry thought he had pushed it too far. Then moments later the snake spoke. "If you wish for answers, find Rex and gain his approval. We will say no more on the subject."
"Who is Rex and where can I find him?" Harry hissed, not letting the snake flee from his view before he had this answered.
The snake did not even slow down as it slithered back to its own portrait, but as it did so it hissed a reply. "I assumed that would be rather obvious, in the heart of the den."
…..
Harry was finishing the last of his homework from the week that night in the common room when yet another interesting occurrence took place, even if it was nothing to top the realization that he and he alone could communicate freely with serpents, and the implications of that realization.
"Potter." Snapped a voice from not far in front of him. Harry looked up, mildly annoyed at being snapped out of his work so suddenly. When he looked up he saw the source of the interruption swaggering towards him in the form of Draco Malfoy, his bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him. The common room was not packed as it was late, but there were certainly a fair number of people there, seeing as it was a Friday night. All of the first years were in the common room as they had an Astronomy lesson that night.
"How can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" Asked Harry, forcing his voice to showcase none of the frustration he was internally directing towards the blonde in front of him.
"You can start by explaining what the hell you were doing in Potions?" Demanded Malfoy, shooting him a look of contempt he had only seen him reserve thus far for Ronald Weasley.
"I beg your pardon?" Asked Harry, genuinely taken aback by the question. He had partnered with Malfoy during Potions, so he knew exactly what he had been doing, and on top of that they had performed quite well, so he failed to see what Malfoy could possibly be up in arms about.
"Don't play stupid with me Potter!" Jeered Malfoy, seeming to grow more than a little annoyed at Harry's slow uptake. "At the end of that lesson you helped the blithering idiot from Gryffindor. The Longbottom idiot."
Harry blinked. "Yes, I did." He said, his voice one of complete indifference. "I fail to see how that has anything to do with you, or where your point could possibly stem from."
Malfoy seemed to flush. "He's a Gryffindor!" He snapped at him, now clearly agitated.
"And on top of that he's damn near a squib!"
"I fail to see where you draw that assumption from considering we've only seen him in two lessons so far this year." Commented Harry. "I also fail to see how what I did in regards to him has anything to do with you."
"House unity, Potter!" Snarled Malfoy. "A week in and you're already proving yourself to be no better than your parents. A filthy blood traitor consorting with the heir of a blood traitor family, and one who is utterly useless at that. You've proven yourself to be no better than a lion."
By this point Malfoy's tirade had caught much of the rooms attention as students young and old seemed to be listening in now. Murmurs erupted throughout the room, and Harry realized that Malfoy had picked a public spot on purpose, he was trying to drag Harry's reputation down with him. Harry's hand twitched towards his wand, but he resisted the impulse to curse the blonde boy to oblivion.
"Do you really want to discuss other houses, Malfoy?" Asked Harry, his voice quiet but carrying nonetheless. "You accuse me of being a Gryffindor through and through but the reality is you just don't have enough Slytherin in you to see the endgame."
Malfoy flushed, his face contorting in rage. "How dare you-"
"How dare I turn the tables? How dare I speak the truth. You're so short sighted by your own narrow minded beliefs that they override your ability to see the bigger picture." Harry now seemed to have the full undivided attention of the house now, everyone seemed to be listening with wrapped attention. Harry would have much rather avoided any confrontation with the Malfoy heir, but Draco had given him little choice in the matter. It was either stand up to the Malfoy heir in front of many who may see it as an act of treason, or allow the boy to walk all over him and appear weak and inferior. The very thought of the second option caused bile to rise in Harry's throat so he happily selected the first, everyone else be damned. "Is that your defense, Malfoy? Your defense for anything you do not understand. To simply call the offender a blood traitor and hope that those around you who are equally narrow minded help you make the problem go away? If you wish to speak on houses, Malfoy, I believe you have already lost. You're not Slytherin enough to see the play, and you're not Gryffindor enough to do anything significant enough to slow it down, yet alone stop it. You can call me a Gryffindor all you want, Draco, but the only thing it proves is that you are as incompetent as the leftovers. Maybe you should exchange your green robes for yellow ones."
"You filthy little mudblood!" Snarled Malfoy as he went for his wand, Harry went for his as well but they were both too slow.
"Expelliarmus Duo!" There was a blinding flash of red light and Harry and Malfoy both staggered back as their wands leapt from their hands and into the waiting grasp of Grace Weitts. The whole house was dead silent, as they waited for her verdict. They knew it was an important moment; would she side with the Malfoy heir who seemed destined to one day succeed her throne? Or would she choose the controversial half blood? Who prodigious as he seemed, stood for everything that the modern Slytherin stereotype seemed to oppose. For several long seconds she did neither, she simply appraised both of them with a cold and neutral stare. "Malfoy, get a grip on yourself. If Potter can reduce you to a stone headed Gryffindor with schoolyard taunts then perhaps he has a point about house affinities." The whole house was dead quiet as they stared transfixed between the two of them. She then looked at Harry. "I am also sure that many of those here would appreciate it if you did not lump them into your arguments with other students, Potter." She spoke coldly but with no real emotion as she did so, Harry got the distinct impression she spoke more out of a sense of obligation than any real belief of her own. "Malfoy," she returned her attention to the blonde, "if you are so insistent on picking a fight, either challenge him to a duel or don't try to make a scene and then jump him. It is unbefitting of someone of your station. Now, if I return you your wands can you act like civilized adults?"
Malfoy nodded scathingly, but Harry made no sign of acknowledgement. He only stared calculatingly at Weitts, trying to gauge every bit of the situation. After a moment, Grace threw them both back their wands. Harry caught his deftly and pocketed it quickly. Malfoy caught his as well, and as soon as it was in hand he turned and stormed off up to the dormitory, his goons Crabbe and Goyle following in his wake.
Grace watched him leave before shooting one look at Harry. It was so quick he could not place anything in it beyond the usual calculating look she always seemed to carry about her. Before he could analyze anything more she had turned, making her way back to the lounge as if nothing had happened. Returning to her friends and leaving Harry to ponder nothing more than the remainder of his weekly homework.
…..
Harry's interaction with the serpentine portraits of Hogwarts was by far the most interesting thing that happened in the coming days. He spent most of the weekend exploring the castle or in the library. He had finished his homework Friday night, thus leaving him the entire weekend to do as he pleased.
The dynamic within Slytherin House had become far more tense, at least among the first years. The argument between Harry and Draco had seemed to draw a kind of divide in the house, and the majority of people seemed to side with Draco. This was perfectly acceptable to Harry, as for the next almost week he was left pretty much completely alone, which suited his needs just fine.
He continued to excel in all of his classes and earn Slytherin more points than any other first year. He continued to explore the castle and it seemed like every time he was finding more secret passages, even if they paled in comparison to what he had found in the dungeons.
As the beginning of their second week at Hogwarts faded into midweek, the talk around the Hogwarts first years seemed to unanimously shift to the topic of flying lessons. Harry was actually rather eager to try his hand on a broom, though he certainly wasn't as interested as some, namely Draco Malfoy, who hadn't shut up about his broom handling ability for an instant in the past number of days.
Harry also noticed however that Malfoy's view on the topic was not unanimous. Davis, Parkinson, and Rosier all seemed rather hesitant at the idea of flying a broom, and though he was rather quiet and hard to read, Nott didn't seemed thrilled either. Zabini and Greengrass both seemed uncaring one way or another, and Crabbe and Goyle just kind of went along with anything and everything that was said byMalfoy. Harry could not remember a time either of them had actually voiced their own opinion on any matter.
Before they knew it Wednesday had come, and it was time for the first years to receive their first flying lessons with the first year Gryffindors. This pairing had gathered many distasteful reactions from those in both houses, but to Harry's surprise, Draco Malfoy seemed rather excited about it. Harry was sure he was planning something, and he was almost equally sure that it would blow up in his face, so he simply observed. He had not said a word to Malfoy since their spat in the common room, an action that the other boy had thus far reciprocated without issue.
As Harry and the others were walking out of the great hall after breakfast, Harry saw Malfoy standing in front of the Gryffindor table, seeming to gloat over something. Harry was going to walk past him when he heard Malfoy mention his name. "What's the matter Longbottom? Where's that Gryffindor bravery? Or can you only succeed when a Slytherin helps you? Are you nothing special without your boyfriend, Potter?
Harry's eyes flashed as he stepped forward. One of the Gryffindors lunged for whatever Malfoy was holding in his hand but he held it up and out of reach. Harry took his opportunity, snatching it out of Malfoy's unready hand from behind. "What-" he spluttered. He turned to see Harry examining the ball inside his hand with some interest. "You again? I swear, Potter, someone needs to put you in your place." Malfoy went for his wand but before he could a high voice cut through the dispute.
"Boys, boys. What is all of this about?" Squeaked Professor Flitwick, who was seeming to be passing by the Slytherin table.
"Malfoy took Neville's rememberal." Spoke up Ron Weasley at once. "And then Potter took it from him."
"Is this true?" Asked Professor Flitwick, eyeing Malfoy suspiciously.
"I was only looking." Defended Malfoy, though the flush in his cheeks gave away the level of truth in his statement.
"And you Mr. Potter? What was your part in all this?"
Harry just shrugged. "I noticed a commotion and heard my name come up. I was intending on trying my best to diffuse the situation. I figured if a neutral party had the object that may be accomplishable."
"I see." Commented the professor, appraising both Harry and Malfoy with a critical eye. "Well, off with you both then." Harry did not fail to notice the death glare that Malfoy sent his way, nor did he fail to notice the way Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles as they leered at him almost hungrily.
'Let them try.' Harry thought to himself as he slipped out of the hall. 'Let them try.'
….
Later that day the moment had finally come. The first year Gryffindors and Slytherins alike were gathered out in front of the castle, many of them either glaring daggers at one another or looking rather nervous. In front of them stood an older, stern looking woman with greying hair who had introduced herself as Madam Hooch. Apparently she was the school's Quidditch official.
"Alright then," she began, "how many of you have flown a broom before?" A good number of hands went up. "Good…" she spent the next number of minutes explaining some of the basic mechanics to flying a broom. After a surprisingly boring lecture she gave her next command. "Now, I would like all of you to hold your right hands over your broomstick. I will give you a countdown and on go I would like you to all call UP! Are you all ready? All in position? Right O. 3, 2, 1, GO!"
"UP!" Chorused the class as one. Most peoples brooms showed minor reactions, flying half way towards their outstretched hands, or shooting up, just in the wrong directions, or something similar to that. To Harry's slight surprise, his own broom had shot up and into his hands without any issue. To his slight surprise, so had Draco Malfoy's, Ron Weasley's, and perhaps even more surprisingly, Blaise Zabini's and Daphne Greengrass's. Tracy's hadn't moved.
After a few more moments and a fair bit of cheating, everyone had their broomsticks in hand. Madam Hooch spent the next few moments walking around and inspecting as well as in most cases critiquing everyone's grip. Harry was pleasantly surprised to note that she seemed to think his was perfect, and he did take some amusement when she corrected Malfoy's grip, thoroughly dressing him down on the topic, and shooting down any and all counter arguments he proposed; telling him he had been doing it wrong for years and if he wanted to pass with the credit he would make an honest effort.
After the back and forth with Malfoy, Madam Hooch retook her position at the front of the class. "Alright now, when I blow my whistle you will kick off from the ground. Do not fly high, maybe ten, fifteen feet in the air at the most, do a small, wide loop and gently fly back down. All ready? Ok, mount your brooms. Everyone in position… good. 3, 2, 1-"
But at that moment there was a cry of panic as a figure rose high up into the air, far higher than ten or even fifteen feet in fact. It was Neville Longbottom. Harry rolled his eyes, the boy was not helping the case he had made in the common room, not in the least. Clearly Longbottom had gotten a bit anxious and kicked off early. "COME BACK, BOY! COME BACK!" Madam Hooch called after him but by that point it was already far too late. Longbottom was circling higher and higher into the air, and it was blatantly obvious to most around them that he had lost any and all control over the actions of his broomstick and was, at this point, simply on for the ride.
It was over as quickly as it had begun. With no warning, the broomstick suddenly gave a terrifying lurch and spilled the boy towards the ground from a horrifying height, screaming as he fell. Harry went for his wand, a spell from the second years Standard Book of Spells coming into his mind to slow the momentum of an object but he was nowhere near fast enough. With a sickening crack, Neville Longbottom hit the ground.
Everyone rushed forwards, but Madam Hooch beat them all to it. "Broken wrist." She proclaimed after a moment, gingerly helping the still sobbing boy to his feet before straightening up herself. "If I catch anyone on a broom while I am gone you will be out of this school and back on the train to London faster than you can say Quidditch! Come on son." The last bit was added softly to Longbottom who she gently began to lead off towards the castle.
There was silence for only as long as it took for the two figures to be out of sight and out of earshot. As soon as they were though, Draco Malfoy roared with laughter, his goons gauforing stupidly alongside him. "Did you see his face?" Laughed Malfoy, miming a crying face to the crowd.
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Spoke up a pretty looking girl in Gryffindor robes, earning sounds of approval from many of her counterparts.
"Ew, I never thought you'd be into fat cry babies Parvati!" Jeered Pansy Parkinson in an almost sing song voice.
"What's that?" Asked Malfoy, lunging forward and scooping something up off of the ground and holding it up to the light. He let out yet another gleeful laugh, his face splitting into a sharp toothed smile. "It's that stupid rememberal from earlier; shame it didn't help him remember how to stay on a broom." This drew chortles from Crabbe and Goyle, a snort of derisive laughter from Pansy Parkinson, and an amused look from Theodore Nott.
"Give it back, Malfoy!" Bit Weasley furiously stepping toward Malfoy before his path was blocked by the two larger boys.
"No, I don't think I will." Said Malfoy, clearly pretending to be deep in thought. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for him to find. Up a tree maybe?"
"I said GIVE IT HERE!" Said Weasley, turning bright scarlet as he tried to slide around Crabbe and Goyle.
Malfoy took hold of a broom and took off into the sky, drawing gasps from many of those gathered. He had not been lying, Harry was forced to give him that. Malfoy could definitely fly, and pretty well by the look of it. "Come and take it from me Weasley. After all, Quidditch runs in your blood does it not? What's wrong, not wizard enough?"
"Ron you mustn't." Put in a rather frantic looking Hermione Granger.
"I'll show that stuck up.." Weasley grabbed a broom and leapt skywards after Malfoy. The tussle was quick and uneventful. Malfoy just sort of avoided Weasley, but seemed to lose confidence in his own abilities rather quickly. Eventually he shouted. "Want it? Catch it if you can then, Weasel!" And he launched the golden ball towards the ground. There were cries of indignation from the gathered Gryffindors below, and a furious bellow from Weasley who dove towards the gathered Slytherins on the ground, but knew he had no chance of catching the ball.
"Arresto Momentum." Chanted Harry, his wand out in a blur as he waved it in the general direction of the falling orb. The orb's descent seemed to slow and nearly halt as Harry lunged forward and grabbed it, pocketing it quickly, though he didn't think anyone noticed. That turned out to be the least of his concerns though, as Weasley had gotten hold of one of the Slytherins possessions. A golden necklace he recognized as belonging to Rosier.
"Come and get this then, Malfoy, if you think it's so easy?" Taunted Weasley weakly as Malfoy made to land. He looked like he was in quite the conundrum. House loyalty was rather important in Slytherin, but so was reputation. He could defend a housemate, but it would be at the risk of his now heightened reputation on a broom.
"Enough!" Snapped Harry, stepping into the center of the commotion as he shouted up at Weasley. "This is between you two idiots. Leave the rest of us civilized people out of it."
"You want to take his place then, Potter? Gonna support the daughter of a Death Eater?"
Harry snarled in frustration, these childish games had to end. "Up." He snapped at his broomstick, which once again leapt into his hand without much issue. He mounted the broom and kicked off into the air without much issue. Drawing gasps from those below similar to how Draco's take off had moments earlier. Within seconds Harry was level with Weasley, his green eyes boring intensely into his blue ones as he gave him a patented death glare. "I will give you one chance." Harry said quietly. "And I am warning you now, Weasley, you better take it."
Weasley laughed. "You're as bad as they are. What happened to you? You were supposed to be the savior, the symbol of the light the… argh!" What else Harry was supposed to be they would never find out, for at that moment Harry had shot at Weasley like a javelin, forcing him to dodge rather hastily. He managed to avoid a direct collision, but he did not avoid Harry's fist which lashed out and caught him square in the mouth. The Gryffindors down below screamed as the Slytherins cheered. Weasley spat out blood as he glared at Harry hatefully, who was smiling innocently back at him. "Fine then. You think you're all superior because you're one of them? I doubt you'll do any better than Malfoy, you're no different than him." And with that proclamation, Weasley through the bracelet which cost Merlin only knew how many galleons towards the ground, drawing a high pitched scream from Lillian as she watched one of her prized possessions hurtle towards the ground at breakneck speed.
In later years, Harry would never know what made him do it. His whole life he had looked out for his best interests, and done anything in the name of self preservation. But in that moment something was off. Maybe it was the desire to prove he was better than Malfoy, or maybe it was just the desire to separate himself from the boy he viewed as beneath him, but in that moment, Harry made the stupidest, most Gryffindor like decision he had ever made. He dove towards the ground, dove at breakneck speed, headfirst at that.
This drew screams from many on the ground as one of their own looked on a path for sure death. For Harry though, he never felt endangered, he had been taken over by a sudden yet complete sense of confidence. Time seemed to slow down as he found it all to easy to track the necklace's path of descent, all the while having no doubt in his mind that he would catch it. With less than a foot before impact, Harry stretched out his hand and felt the bracelet catch and loop around his wrist. With a tremendous pull upwards, Harry pulled out of the dive and casually floated over to a frantic Rosier, tears in her eyes as she took the necklace from him and shocked him as she flung her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder.
Harry was too busy feeling his brain go foggy as he stiffened slightly at the sudden contact to notice the gobsmacked looks of many of those around them. Despite his distracted state though, he did not miss the words that came from directly behind them.
"Very impressive, Potter, very impressive." Harry looked backwards over his shoulder and his eyes went wide. Standing before him, her seemingly ever present look of calculating composure on her face stood Grace Weitts, looking very interested yet completely calm as she surveyed the scene, her friend, Rhea Packs standing alongside her. "Weasley, Malfoy, with Rhea. Take them to Snape. Potter," she hesitated for a moment. "with me." And without even looking to make sure he would follow, Grace turned on her heels and began to make her way back up towards the castle, leaving Harry no choice but to trail in her wake, pondering how badly he had truly botched things for himself in his one moment of reckless abandon.
Authors Endnote:
Well, I'm interested to see how this will be received, as it's one of the first major cannon events I have redone. I hope you all enjoyed it. I thought I was pretty set on Harry not playing Quidditch but I am seriously considering and may have him play after all, though the decision wouldn't be as much in his hands as you may think.
At any rate, let me know what you all think in a review.
So, the queen has caught the young serpent read handed. What will her verdict be, and what is going through her mind at this moment? How will her actions affect the house at large, and in particular, our young Mr. Potter?
Keep reading to find out!
Next chapter, the fallout from all of the recent events comes to a boiling point, and things escalate rather quickly until Gryffindor boldness will clash with Slytherin ingenuity.