When Harri woke, it was to a dark Hospital Wing. She felt around for her glasses and found them on the bedside table. Out the window, Harri could see the faint pink light of early morning. Late afternoon had been when she had passed out, so she had been asleep for well over twelve hours. She did finally feel better though. The heavy feeling had faded, her head was no longer throbbing, and she felt as if she could manage to go to class without falling over in exhaustion. Madame Pomfrey had been right that staying in the Hospital Wing and missing her first day would have been better for her. Darn the mediwitch, she wouldn't let Harri escape next time.

A soft snore to her left made Harri jump, and squinting through the dim light she saw a lump on the bed next to her. Was someone else injured? But no, as she squinted she was greeted with the sight of Severus Snape. Had he stayed the whole night? A warm feeling filled Harri's chest.

"Ah good, you're awake," someone said, making Harri jump. It was Madame Pomfrey in her bathrobe. She looked tired but decently alert. Had she been waiting up for Harri all night?

"How did you…"

"A little charm, dear. A healer's bread and butter to know when a patient wakes up."

"Oh. That's a useful trick," Harri replied.

Snape snorted slightly and woke.

"Is she up, Madame?" he asked sleepily.

"I'm up, Uncle Sev," Harri said lightly. "And feeling much better," she told the two adults.

"We'll see about that," said Madame Pomfrey, who began to cast diagnostic charms. A soft blue glow enveloped Harri, and Snape let out a satisfied sigh.

"That does look better," he said softly.

"Yes, I'd say so," agreed the mediwitch. "Your core has stabilized, Harriet. As I suspected, rest would have done you good yesterday instead of overexerting. Maybe next time you'll listen," she said primly.

"Hopefully there won't be a next time, ma'am," Harri told her cheekily.

"Unlikely," the witch said. "Now I have prep to do. You're free to go, Harri. If you feel suddenly tired do come back. I don't want yesterday happening again. I'll send an elf over with breakfast. Something easy on the stomach, I think. Would you like anything, Professor?" she asked Snape.

"Some tea," answered Snape.

Madame Pomfrey was off in her usual bustling manner. Harri turned to Snape, who looked rumpled and out of place on the hospital bed. His hair, usually pulled back or hanging limply from fume oils, was in disarray.

"Are you mad?" Harri asked him.

"No. You shouldn't have been put in that position to begin with. Lockhart," Snape paused with a sneer, "should know better than to release a gang of pixies into a second-year class."

"Why is it that he got the job instead of you?" Harri asked. It was well known that Snape wanted the defense job.

"It's a cursed position. If I were to ever take over, it would only be for a year."

"It's actually cursed?"

"Yes," said Snape, his lips curled into an unhappy sneer. "We haven't been able to keep a steady professor for the twenty odd years I've been at Hogwarts."

"Do you know who cursed it?" Harri asked.

Snape rolled his eyes, "No, but does it matter? The point is that we are cured with incompetence. My least favorite attribute. We must take care to not let that pompous man hurt anyone, especially not you, again."

Harri shrugged, "It wasn't really his fault.

The room was lighter now, and Harri could make out Snape's angry eyes. "It was his fault, Harriet. He is an adult. You are school children."

"I don't see how that matters."

"I hope one day you will."

Harri only received minor jeering from the Slytherin table about her fainting spell. Most of came from Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, who could be ignored. Hermione was very pleased to have Harri back in the dorms finally, giving her "A break from all this girly silliness."

"Hermione, I like the girly silliness," Harri told her with a laugh. She then presented her pink fwooper feather quills to her three roommates. Lavender and Parvati both squealed with delight and wrapped Harri in a tight hug while jumping up in down.

"Careful! I'll bend them!" Harri told them through her smile. Three people who hugged her, she thought warmly.

She spent a lot of the next few days dodging out of sight whenever she saw Gilderoy Lockhart coming down a corridor. He had cornered her the day after she left the Hospital Wing to give another lecture about playing sick for the sake of fame.

"He's unbearable," Harri groused to Hermione that night.

"Oh, he's just looking out for you," Hermione tried to brush off.

"What is it about Lockhart, Hermione?" Harri asked in exasperation. "I know he's good looking, but he's horrid."

Hermione gripped the silver mark covering on her wrist. "Harri… I just want to pretend. Please let me. He's handsome and he's published such exciting books. I don't really care if any of it is true. I just want there to be someone else to think about."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. I don't know if you can understand, Harri. I know you say you've met yours, but you don't have to put up with him day after day being horrid."

Harri fell quiet. How to explain to Hermione that she had defiantly won the worst soulmate contest. There probably wasn't a way without saying… and Harri didn't want to say anything. Nasty thoughts filled her head, thoughts of her friends finding out, thinking she was maybe evil herself, wanting nothing to do with her, Hermione never giving her a hug again.

"I guess you're right, Hermione," Harri said, letting the subject of Lockhart and his abject horribleness drop.

They fell into an awkward silence, and then bed.

Harri didn't bring up Lockhart around Hermione again, but she did start to complain about Colin Creevey. She felt like he was more Colin Creepy. He had clearly memorized Harri's schedule and had taken to running into her six or seven times a day. Always saying, "Hi, Harriet!" or "All right, Harri." He would let out a little squeak of excitement every time she would respond, "Hello, Collin," with more exasperation each time.

With the new stress of being back at school and two annoying figures following her around, Harri was relieved when Friday night came and it was time to serve detention with Snape and the Runespoor.

"Furry," the middle head hissed happily when it saw Harri.

"Hello again," Harri told it. "I think we're doing actual research tonight."

"It's certainly taken long enough," groused the right head.

"Yes, we have been wondering when true research would start," agreed the left.

"I didn't mind," said the middle. "I've gotten to spend so much time being awash in the magic."

"Well they're ready to get started," Harri told Snape.

"Excellent," he said with a manic gleam to his eyes. "We'll begin our research with the mental regenerative properties of the Runespoor. Which potion uses the eggs, Harriet."

"The Wit-Sharpening Potion, Algier's Short Term Memory Enhancer, and The Neuron Regeneration Brew."

"Good. Now when testing the effects of other components of the Runespoor we will be using other magical aspects of it and testing it in the same potions to see if it enhances their effectiveness, has no effect, or lessens the effect. Which properties would make the most sense to test?"

"Scales, Fang, and Venom?"

"A good start. We could also try with their uric acid."

"Eww, snake urine?"

"Can be imbued with magic properties."

"Gross."

"Yes, that would describe many potion ingredients," Snape said rolling his eyes.

"In any case, we will start with venom. Please ask the Runespoor's right head to bite down on this," Snape said, handing an interesting vial with what looked like stretched skin on top to Harri. "Once we have the venom I'll be showing you how to convert it to a powder. A powder is a much more stable way to work with the venom. Why?"

"Because the powder is produced using a process that put the venom into a known… amount? The active agent becomes quantifiable and therefore can be accurately measured. The potion can be replicated, and the amount used can be raised or lowered without guesswork."

"A little messy in the description, but yes," Snape said with a slight smile. "It is also easier to make anti-venom from powder. That is partially why we are beginning here. If something were to happen, we want the ability to fix it quickly."

Harri nodded and then turned back to the snake. It had been watching the two humans speak with vague interest. Harri wasn't certain on the snake's grasp on English.

"So," Harri hissed, "If you would be willing to bite down on this so we can collect venom, that would be all we need of you tonight ."

"Our venom? " asked the left head. " Why would you want something that is for killing our prey? "

"Yes, it doesn't seem like it would help in any research," said the right head with suspicion. He looked grumpy and a little silly wearing his cone.

"Venom used in non-lethal doses can actually be useful in many medical practices," Harri said. It didn't translate well.

The middle head hissed in laughter. "Oh, Furry. You speak, but with such a funny accent."

She continued to bicker with the snake until it finally relented and bit down on the skin covered jar. Bright orange venom exploded out of its fangs.

"That's an excellent sample," Snape said cheerily. It was strange seeing him so happy. Was it an alien wearing Snape's face?

"Now, to begin the process of powdering…" and they spent the next several hours going over how to powder a venom so that it was at several different toxicities. They created five different solutions, which Snape was quite pleased about.

While Harri was glad the evening was working out so well for him, she was very tired and it was near midnight by the time all the powders were collected and stored. The Runespoor was dozing on its warming rock, leaving Harri feeling envious that the snake got to sleep.

It must be nearly time to leave, Harr thought sleepily.

Then… she heard something. It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breath-taking, ice-cold venom.

"Come… come to me… Let me rip you... Let me tear you… Let me kill you…"

Harri gave a huge jump and nearly fell off her stool. Snape looked startled, removed his goggles, and looking over at Harri with annoyance.

"If you're falling asleep on your feet you can go to bed, Harriet," he said sharply.

"What? No."

Snape looked at her dubiously.

"NO, the voice!"

"What voice?" asked Snape, looking around like he expected a Weasley twin to appear in his storeroom.

"It was…. It was threatening to kill someone."

"You heard a voice threatening to kill someone? I didn't hear anything Harriet. Were you dreaming?" It was patronizing.

"NO. I wouldn't dream something like that. It was… I've never heard anything like it!"

"We heard it too, Furry," interjected the Runespoor.

Harri turned to the snake. "You did? " she asked it. "Was it a snake then? "

A snake roaming the corridors looking to kill could very well be a Slytherin student's pet looking for mice.

"It was Mother," said the critic with a reverent hiss.

"Your mother is here?" Harri asked. Had they kidnapped a hatchling whose mother had hunted them from Africa? That seemed very unlikely.

"Not our mother," explained the left head. " The Mother. Of all Serpents."

Harri looked at Snape who looked frustrated from being pulled from his sharp focus. "They say it was a snake. But I'm not sure this is translating right. Do you know who the Mother of Serpents is?"

Snape shook his head. "I've no idea. But if there is an illegal snake slithering around Hogwarts, we'll find it. Grab a bezoar before heading back to your tower. I'll write you a note for being out past curfew."

"You're sending me back when there is a murderous snake around here?"

"You're a parslemouth, Harriet. If anyone can be wandering around, it's you. Talk to the bloody thing if you run into it."

That didn't feel acceptable to Harri, but she had her invisibility cloak and would just tread lightly as she went. Hopefully, she didn't meet a nasty surprise on her way to the common room. At least they don't like stairs, she thought and was glad when she reached the staircase off of the Great Hall.

It was so late that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. Harri went straight to the dormitory. Lavender and Parvati were asleep, but Hermione was up still reading in bed. She gave a small wave in greeting, before going back to her book.

How someone could look so interested in Goblin Wars, Harri would never know.

She climbed onto Hermione's bed and shut the curtains. Keeping her voice low so that the other two wouldn't wake, Harri told her about her evening with Snape.

"And they said it was the Mother of Serpents?" Hermione asked. "Snape just let you walk back," she added with an angry furrow between her eyes.

"Well, he had a point. Snakes aren't supposed to attack Parslemouths. It's a type of magical binding. At least, that's how the Runespoor describes it."

"We'll have to research this," Hermione said. "I don't like the idea of a mad snake slithering around the castle," she said with a shiver.

Harri didn't mind that she and Hermione stayed up talking till one in the morning on the grounds that she could sleep in on Saturday morning. The four friends were planning to go see Hagrid around ten, but that still left plenty of time for rest. Harri, however, was shaken awake several hours earlier by Angelina Johnson.

Angelina didn't look happy about it. "Up, Potter. Wood wants us to practice." Harri squinted out the window. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink-and-gold sky. Now that she was awake, she couldn't understand how she had slept through the racket that the birds and her cat were making.

Gulliver was standing at the window letting out strange eeks and chirps, his tail swishing.

"Angelina, has Wood gone mad? It's the crack of dawn."

"You're telling me," the chaser groused. "On the field in fifteen."

Harri climbed out of bed and tried to find her Quidditch robes. When she found her scarlet team robes and pulled on her cloak for warmth, she scribbled a note to Hermione explaining where she'd gone. She went down the spiral staircase to the common room, her Nimbus Two Thousand on her shoulder. She had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind her and Colin Creevey came dashing down the boy's stair, his camera swinging madly around his neck and something clutched in his hand.

"I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Harriet! Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, I wanted to show you-"

Harri looked bemusedly at the photograph Colin was brandishing under her nose. A moving black-and-white Lockhart was tugging hard on an arm Harri recognized as her own. She was pleased to see that her photographic self was putting up a good fight and refusing to be dragged into view. As Harri watched, Lockhart gave up and slumped, panting, against the white edge of the picture.

"Will you sign it?" said Colin eagerly.

It was time to be straight with him. "No. Colin look, I'm sure you mean well, but you're making me uncomfortable. I'm not a real celebrity. I'm a girl whose parents got murdered. I need you to stop following me around. If you want to actually talk, that's great. But I'm not someone you can follow around and take pictures of."

He looked crestfallen. "No… I'm sorry Harriet. I'm sure you don't want some first year following you around."

"It's not even that, Colin. I'm happy to get to know you. But you have to treat me like a normal person. One you're just getting to know."

The small boy nodded. "Alright." He looked glum. "I'll leave you alone for now, Harriet. I didn't mean to be rude or anything. I just… I've heard how You-Know-Who was. That people like me… people who are muggle-born with milkmen for fathers, they weren't treated very well. I feel really grateful," he looked up at her with shining eyes. "I don't like to think that there is a version of life where I don't get to come here and be magical. And it's all because of you that I do!"

Harri understand. She did. It was a much less creepy version of his adoration than she had feared. "It wasn't really me, though. It was me, but I have no idea why it happened. So just be glad that it did. I think I'm rather circumstantial to it."

Colin nodded and turned to head back to the dorms. "Bye, Colin. I'll see you around," she said. He perked up a little and gave Harri a small wave.

The rest of the Gryffindor team were already in the changing room. Wood was the only person who looked truly awake. Fred and George were sitting, puffy-eyed and tousle-haired, next to Alicia Spinnet, who seemed to be nodding off against the wall behind her. Her fellow Chasers, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, were yawing side by side opposite them.

"There you are, Harri, what kept you?" said Wood briskly. "Now I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field…"

What followed were diagrams that fell on deaf ears. Several boards of diagrams were pushed forward, each taking nearly half an hour to explain. When they finally were done, several motivational speeches later, the sun was up completely.

As Harri walked onto the field she saw Ron, Hermione, and Neville sitting in the stands.

"Aren't you finished yet?" called Ron incredulously.

"Haven't even started," said Harri, looking jealously at the toast and marmalade they had brought out of the Great Hall. "Wood's been teaching us new moved."

She mounted her broomstick and kicked at the ground, soaring up into the air. The cool morning air whipped her hair, waking her up far more effectively than Wood's long talk. It felt wonderful to fly and feel her hair streaming behind her. Parvati would be aghast at the knots.

They were getting into formation to try Wood's first diagram when Wood stopped midsentence. "I don't believe it!" he hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today!"

Several people in green robes were walking on the field, broomsticks in their hands. Wood shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harri, Fred, and George followed.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially. You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of troll-ish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all us, Wood."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man. Their two beaters were leering specifically at Angelina, who was the most full-figured of the female Gryffindor players.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I Profesor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker."

Harri wanted to march up to the castle and yell at Snape. He knew that times were assigned through Hooch. Professors weren't supposed to do things like that. He was just angry that the Gryffindor team had only lost the Quidditch cup last year because she had been unconscious in the Hospital Wing.

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike and no doubt remembering the altercation in Flourish and Blotts.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team siled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' nose in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps"- he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives- "sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

Harri didn't need to turn around to see that it was Ron, Neville, and Hermione coming towards them. She could see in Malfoy's face. He wasn't smirking anymore. He looked grim, with a hard set to his jaw like he was clenching his teeth.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harri. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"

He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"He's on the team now," Neville surmised. "Those are new brooms too."

"That's right," Malfoy drawled. "I'm the new Seeker. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Ron gaped, openmouthed at the seven superb broomsticks. Harri was a bit shocked too. The amount of money it would cost! She would have to empty her trust vault.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter.

"At least no one of the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face fell completely.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat. It was far from the first time Mafloy had called Hermione that slur. Harri had comforted a crying Hermione several times last year. Neville had gotten jinxed over defending her. It was vile talk, and Harri wanted to punch the git.

Not every one of the Gryffindor team was used to Mafloy's crude way of speaking to Hermione. Fred and George attempted to jump on Mafloy. Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!"

It was Ron though, who actually did something about Malfoy this time. He plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wad, and yelled: "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of Ron's wand, hitting Malfoy square in the face.

Malfoy fell flat on his back, and Flint worked to help him to his feet. "You'll pay for that Weasley!" he spat.

Malfoy opened his mouth to speak, no doubt something nasty was going to come out, when something literally nasty escaped. He gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto the grass.

The Gryffindor team worked very hard to subdue their laughter, and Ron was so white that his freckles stood out in sharp contrast.

"Not saying I don't agree with you Mate," Neville whispered, "but I'm not sure that was such a good idea."

Malfoy managed a few pitiful "My father… will… hear" as he was hauled off to the Hospital Wing by Flint. All semblance of practice had fallen apart.

"I think you should go see McGonagall," Wood told Ron frankly. "Get your feet under the situation."

Ron, still very pale, nodded. Hermione looked visibly upset, though if it was Ron or Malfoy causing her distress, Harri wasn't sure.

McGonagall's office was not a common sight for Harri, Ron, or Neville. Hermione, on the other hand spent at least an hour a week badgering McGonagall for extra reading and updated journals. The four filed in, and McGonagall was already thin-lipped with anger. She knew.

"Well," she began angrily, "there is never an excusable reason for hexing another student, Weasly. But go on, let's hear it."

She looked at Ron sternly through her square spectacles. Ron straightened his back, and firmly answered, "Malfoy called Hermione a… well you know. I don't want to repeat it."

"I'm afraid I don't know, Mr. Weasley."

"He called me a filthy little mudblood," Hermione said, saving Ron the embarrassment of repeating the slur. "It isn't the first time."

McGonagall looked taken aback. "Language like that at this school is prohibited, Miss. Granger. If Mr. Malfoy speaks that way to you again, you will find a teacher at once."

Hermione nodded, as McGonagall turned back to Ron. "As for you Mr. Weasley, as it's the start of the term there aren't many points to deduct. Hexing another student is usually worth one hundred points and detention. As it is, I'll settle for the next four Saturdays. Be grateful it isn't more." Ron didn't protest, just nodded.

"I understand, ma'am."

Her face softened somewhat. "I know what you were trying to do, Mr. Weasley. It is an admirable thing to want to defend your friends. But be aware that choices like this have far-reaching consequences. You should owl your parents so they know what happened."

Ron flinched and did look a bit shamefaced. "You're excused," said Professor McGonagall.

The four left.

"Why does McGonagall want you to write your dad?" Harri asked.

"Probably about work," Ron muttered. The girls looked confused.

"Ron's father works for the Ministry, right?" Neville asked. "Well, Malfoy's father is the head of an Ancient House. That's basically a Lordship. He pours a lot of gold into that place. Mr. Weasley could face some trouble at work over this."

"All over me?" Hermione squeaked.

"It's worth it, Hermione," Ron told her. "They can't get away with that. It's nonsense. There isn't a spell that you've met that you can't do. It's a disgusting thing to call someone. And hypocritical. Wizards have married into Muggles. We have to have, or we'd've died out."

"You're a pureblood, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed in frustration.

"Well sure, my grandparents are all magical. That's all it means. Some families like to boast about no Muggle blood for generations, but no one really knows. It's all tosh. My parents think so. And I know…." and here Ron took a very deep breath. "I know that my Dad won't stand for you being called vile things. He won't like that I cursed Malfoy. But he always told me to stand up for my friends. I'll go write to them now," and Ron headed off.

Hermione's cheeks were pink. "When did Ron grow up from that rude boy a year ago?" she asked Harri.

"I don't know," Harri agreed. "But next time I'll hex Malfoy. No one will lose a job over me."

"I'll write Gran," interjected Neville. "Maybe she can do something to head Mr. Malfoy off. We've got some money investiture at the Ministry, too."

Hermione and Harri were left in the corridor outside of McGonagall's office, both a little shocked. "Are you okay, Hermione?" Harri asked her.

"I am… it's just… do you think Ron has maybe… gotten a little more attractive?"

"No."

"I really think…"

"It's possible you just like seeing him curse Malfoy." Hermione glared.

"No, I just...it's nice. Having friends. Having someone stand up for me. He's very brave, that Ron Weasley."

"No intergroup dating!" Harri said, glaring at Hermione. "You'll break us up. You know I'll choose you, and Neville will choose Ron. It just won't work Hermione. I forbid it!"

"Harri, I'm just thirteen."

"Almost thirteen! Speaking of, what do you want for your birthday? A snog from Ron?"

"Harriet Dorea Potter!"

So I'm throwing in some Ron/Hermione but it's not an endgame pairing and it isn't planned as more than a little crush. Some of Ron's lines on blood purity are ripped directly from the book. If he wasn't belching slugs while saying them, I bet Hermione would feel pretty touched.