The Great Hall's enchanted ceiling was an clear azure blue when the school congregated for breakfast the morning of the Quidditch match. While Agatha and her fellow players were wearing the first layer of their Quidditch uniforms, everyone else was decked out in their colors with some sporting the green and white face paint.
Just as her breakfast went well, Octavia Mulciber said, before Agatha could leave with the rest of the Quidditch team for the pitch, "I'm certain you'll help give us a good victory, Queen of Serpents."
Agatha pursed her lips, noting the gazes from the neighboring Gryffindor table. "Please, shut it," she said to Octavia before leaving the Great Hall. She swore she can feel some of Gryffindor table gazing after her as she left.
If Octavia and some of the other Slytherins could stop with that moniker, Agatha would sleep a lot better. She didn't need all that attention.
"New year, faster brooms," Flint beams when they shrugged on the final pieces of their Quidditch gear in the locker room.
"Not to mention we practiced with them," Draco piped up. "I can't wait to see the look on Potter's face when I catch that Golden Snitch."
Agatha sighed. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, Draco," she said.
"Lighten up," said Bole. "Let's go flatten them."
And when the game began, it seemed to be the case. As the speed of their new brooms were giving them the advantage. Katie Bell had a hard time keeping up with Agatha when the latter had the Quaffle under her arm.
It could have been the speed given by the brooms, but Agatha thought that she saw one of the Bludgers chase after Harry. Like it gained a mind of its own, just like his broom the previous year.
Watching as Katie found a way to intercept the Quaffle, Agatha made a move to make a interception herself after seeing Bell pass it to Johnson. Almost there. Almost…
But her attention from the Quaffle turned when she saw Draco collide with a beam before crashing on the ground. Right between the legs.
"Draco!" she shouts before diving down to ground with her broom. Cassius and Flint right behind her. "Draco! Are you okay?"
"I don't think so," he groaned. "It hurts!"
"Maybe we should get him to the hospital wing," Miles suggested as Lee Jordan announced Gryffindor's win.
As she and the other Slytherins were taking Draco to the hospital wing, she noticed that Lockhart was among the crowd surrounding Harry. Dread filled her right then and there. Bloody Merlin, he's going to make it worse for Harry.
A thought that was confirmed at the Hospital Wing, when she caught that Lockhart made the bones in Harry's left arm disappear in an attempt to fix his broken arm. After stating that Draco could go when she prescribed him from herbs to relive the irritation, Madam Pomfrey went to fetch Skell-A-Grow for Harry.
"At least your arm isn't rubber, Draco," she tried to assure her brother, who was moaning loudly in his bed. "You know, Madam Pomfrey says that you are free to go."
"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, stop making such a fuss!" Madam Pomfrey, she exclaimed as she came back to the Hospital Wing. "You can go!"
They left the Hospital Wing, and though Agatha desired to see how Harry was doing, she knew that Madam Pomfrey would make her visits short. She'd check on him in the morning when he's released from the Hospital Wing.
Agatha washed up and changed into her clothes before going out to the courtyard to catch up on studying with her friends before dinner. When night arrived, she fell asleep after taking an glance of the pictures of her biological mother.
Sunday morning began with a flurry of rumors. Rumors that an student had been attacked by Slytherin's Heir. It did not help that she had managed to catch the name of who it was.
Colin Creevey. The Gryffindor first year who wanted that picture of Harry Potter. Draco, of course, was not sympathetic.
"He was annoying, anyway," he said. "Always trying to get an picture from Potter. Well, that's one filthy Muggle-born down."
"You would not be saying that if it were me," she pointed out through gritted teeth.
Draco scoffed. "Why would the Heir attack you, Agatha? You're a pureblood from the House of Malfoy."
As if the Heir's enemies might not be exclusive to Muggle-borns alone. That afternoon, does Agatha manage to meet with Harry. "You were in the Hospital Wing last night. They are saying that Creevey got attacked. Is that true?"
At Harry's slight nod, she could feel the blood drain from her face. "Bloody Merlin."
"Agatha, what were you going to say before Colin interrupted us the first day of term?" asked Harry.
She swallowed. It was bad enough that most of the school suspected her as Salazar Slytherin's Heir. She didn't want to plant false suspicion in his mind, yet deflect from his question would make him more suspicious.
"Dobby told me that I would not understand if he told me," she sighed.
Agatha wondered if she could have told Harry that her father was acting as if he was up to something ever since that Muggle-Protection Act was put into place. If she could have told him that she was technically the current Heir and that the one who first opened the Chamber of Secrets was the Dark Lord himself; that her blood father was the one involved. Yet, tell him and it would put thoughts in his head. Because how else would she know such things if she wasn't the one responsible.
He could just be more discreet about his suspicions then everyone else.
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 first years – not excluding a portion of Slytherins – were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.
As an result, some people weren't even hiding their suspicions of her anymore. As people were narrowing their eyes or hissing as she walked past them. She even thought she caught a suspicious Granger whispering to an apparent disbelieving Weasley.
To distract herself from hexing some of them, she often read her mother's journal. Removing the ribbon before carefully opening the old book. Reading as Edythe described day to day activities, the concern of the war brewing outside of Hogwarts, her recurring annoyance at the antics by her brother and his fellow Gryffindor friends, her worries about what would happen with her brother regarding his lycanthropy, and her crush on an boy named Harrison Crowley. Flipping to the last page before even finishing it, the last entry – one where she expressed some concern about an upcoming mission for the Order of the Phoenix – was dated on New Year's Eve 1976. A little eleven months before she was born.
It was apparent just by her journal entries that Edythe Lupin didn't seem to be the type to go running off to the Dark Lord willingly. No, there was something else. Sensing that her mind was going to places that she could not herself think of, she shook it off.
Trying to get to know who her mother helped distract her somewhat from everything else going on in Hogwarts. Hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Cassius Warrington received an package of talismans and amulets from home, and gave them to anyone who he thought needed them. Whether they were Slytherin are not.
"If anything, Miles and I are bound to be targets," said Abigail after precuring one such amulet from Cassius. "The Heir could just go after us simply because we have some Muggle blood in us."
"Mum told me not to worry about it," said Graham. "That it's only going to be the Muggle-borns getting attacked. As if we won't be there at the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Off-topic, why aren't you going to be at Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Miles asked Agatha.
"Oh, there is an page in the Potions homework that is stumping me," Agatha lied. "Figured it was best if I had my godfather help me with it."
The reality, however, was that the Headmaster was going to accompany her to Yorkshire to meet with her biological uncle. Even if nothing bad was to come out of it, that did not stop her stomach feeling like it was twisting itself into knots.
It had to take Agatha an few moments to catch her breath after having side-along apparated with Dumbledore to their destination. It had felt like going through an narrow tube that had seemed to suck almost all the oxygen from her lungs.
"The first times are always the most difficult," he said. "I always threw up the first times I apparated."
The two of them were standing in a countryside blanketed with an fresh thin layer of snow. Away from any villages and other centers of population. In an distance was an collection of poles spaced out; held together by wires (or telephone poles according to her Muggle Studies textbook).
Before them stood a cottage that had most likely seen better days. Some of tiles were missing from the roof, with wild vines climbing on the stone siding.
She stays on the stone pathway before following Dumbledore to the cracked iron-hinged, wooden door. The frigid, mid-November wind hitting her face as the snow started to fall in small flakes.
She shifts between her legs when he gives the door three soft taps. Agatha mentally scolded herself for being nervous. It wasn't like he would bring her any harm. However, this meeting was eating away at her nerves…
"Come in!" was the amiable reply.
Agatha is greeted by an musty smell when she follows Dumbledore into the cottage. As the Headmaster began engaging in lighthearted banter with Mr. Lupin, Agatha gazed around her surroundings. If the outside of the cottage was in bad shape, so was the inside of it. Cracks lined the walls, accompanied by holes that exposed the inner boards. And she thought she could see some mold. Somewhere nearby, she could hear jazz music playing on an antique gramophone.
With his condition, she assumed it would be difficult to maintain any form of stable income. Maybe it was hard for him to procure the ingredients of Wolfsbane Potion.
Though, she did not gaze at her surroundings for long, for her eyes locked with those of Remus Lupin's. He wasn't that seventh year that she had seen in the picture from one of the books of Gryffindor alumni. He now had to be around thirty and already there were flecks of gray with his brown hair.
The blood had drained on her maternal uncle's face – streaked with jagged scars that had been long been healed over – as he gazed at her. Almost like he was seeing a ghost. Agatha thought back to those pictures of her biological mother. Pictures where she was laughing with her friends and her brother and his friends.
"You…you look just like her," he said, taking an slow step forward. Agatha could see that he was restraining himself. Restraining himself from wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.
Something that was probably painful for him.
Eventually, Mr. Lupin composed himself and offered them to take an seat in the living area. "I apologize if it's not up to par," he said, as Agatha sat at one end on an moth eaten, arm sofa with scratch marks streaked across the fabric; scratches so deep that the stuffing from the cushion was poking out.
It didn't escape her notice that he had probably felt that she would be uncomfortable by her current surroundings; given that she had grown up and was accustomed to the aristocratic trappings of the Manor.
For certain, her father would make a remark similar to one regarding where the Weasley's live.
"It has been hard for me to acquire sugar," he explained as he poured them tea in the chipped cups.
"There's no need to apologize for something out of your control, Mr. Lupin," she said, picking up the handle. "I'm not that picky."
"See, has a sense of humility," Dumbledore beams, as if it was an feat to reach. Agatha would understand, if one took a good look at the people that raised her. Not excluding her brother.
Agatha sips from her cup, thinking of something to get the conversation moving. "There is the saying that the ability to play Quidditch runs in one's blood," she started, staring at her reflection from the surface of her tea. "Before, I always thought it must have come from my adoptive father, considering that Draco is rather good. All this time, I actually had inherited it from her."
Her uncle's lips curl in a warm smile. "I could never actually get into Quidditch as much as my sister and James," he said. "Eddie was the best Seeker that Ravenclaw had at the time, it was said. Not that it was a lie. She had the dexterity and reflexes that could put the Gryffindor Seeker to shame at the time."
"At least she got in on her own merit," she said with a sigh, dimly aware of Dumbledore excusing himself to check out the loft above. "I and Draco only got in because the man that raised us gifted the House team with the latest racing brooms."
"Can't say I'm surprised," sighed Mr. Lupin. "Apparently old Abraxas Malfoy did the same thing for Lucius, and to say that he repeated it doesn't surprise me."
"Grandpappy Abraxas used to say 'People will listen if you have the Galleons'," Agatha divulged. "Still said it up to the summer before my second year when he died of Dragon Pox. My adoptive father practically has the Ministry deep in his pockets. I think him being the Head of the Department of Treasury and Economic Affairs makes it easier for him."
"He is very well connected…Lucius Malfoy," he said. "It seemed he didn't have a difficult time convincing people he was under the Imperius Curse, when others that had eyes would say otherwise."
"My biological father is spoken with such reverence back home," she nods in agreement. Agatha pauses. "Do you refer to him as by his name? Or do you call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? My adopted father says only foolish people call him by his name, then again he revers him, so…"
"His name," was his answer. "He wanted to hold suffocating power over people, and making people so afraid to say his name is an example of that. I didn't want him to hold that power over me. To add, saying his name isn't foolish. As Dumbledore said once when Voldemort rose to power, fear of an name increases fear of the thing itself."
Agatha couldn't bring herself to doubt what was said. For fear itself could be used to exert that magnitude of control. Regarding fear –
"If he were around now, he'd be living for that fear is surrounding Hogwarts now." Then, she adds gloomily. "He'd probably be disappointed that it wasn't actually me and want me to bring those rumors about me into fruition."
"What rumors?" he asked. "That you're the one behind the attacks going on at your school?"
She nods. There wasn't a shred of doubt that Dumbledore must have told him what was happening with the Chamber of Secrets and everything. "Denying it might make people even more suspicious. At least they got that one thing right. Tell them that I'm the daughter of Lord Voldemort and owls would be coming in droves."
"People will have their minds made up anyway," he said. "About the last thing, your adopted parents don't know you know. Do you have any friends that you trust with that information?"
"I'd honestly never thought of that, Mr. Lupin," she said, vocalizing her thoughts. "Draco doesn't know because he'd be telling anyone and the whole school would find out in less then an week."
"I never told my best friends either at first about my condition," he said. "There was that fear that they would turn their back on me if they found out. That they'd have nothing to do with an person like me. Fortunately, they proved me wrong. True friends keep your secrets, and when you're ready to talk about it, I'm sure you'll tell it to the right people."
True friends keep your secrets.
Agatha thinks over those words as November turns to December. As the snow falls and accumulates on the shire surrounding the school. He wasn't terribly wrong. Among her year, Cassius Warrington and the Bletchey twins would be what she would consider her true friends. She supposed Cassius would listen.
As for Abigail and Miles, well, she wasn't so sure. It was apparent that the Bletchleys' had gotten on the wrong side with Lord Voldemort during the Great Wizarding War. As their parents literally went into hiding after an attempt was made on the life of their paternal uncle (he was suspected on passing information to the Order of the Phoenix). She'd decided to feel them out first. After telling Cassius during Christmas holidays.
When the list of who was staying for the Christmas holidays was passed around, Draco had signed it. "I don't want to miss anything," he said.
Agatha had half the mind to sign the list as well in order to keep him out of trouble. She didn't as she knew that mother would at least want one of them home for Christmas if both weren't going to. Also, Draco would still manage to find trouble even if she was present.
A few days before the start of the Christmas holidays, on the way to dinner, she noticed an small knot of people gathered around the notice board as she, Cassius, and the Bletchley twins were on their way to the Great Hall for dinner. Graham and Octavia beckoned them over, looking excited.
"A Dueling Club!" beamed Graham as Agatha read the flyer that had just been posted on the board. "First meeting tonight!"
"That means I get to try some spells on Potter or Weasley," said Draco, to which Agatha glared in response.
"You certainly will not," she scolded, not taking her eyes off of the flyer. With the Heir lurking around, they could at least do some practice.
"Could be a treat," said Miles as they went to the Great Hall for dinner.
At eight o'clock Agatha, Draco, and their friends 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.
"Any guesses who might be teaching us?" asked Ernessa as they all found an spot by the stage.
Only one possibility came to mind. "Flitwick most likely," Agatha answered. "Everyone is often going on what a great duelist he is."
However, that possibility evaporated from all facets of her mind and was replaced with dread when she sees him stride across the golden stage. Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum.
"I'm going to say it: we're going to die," uttered Cassius as Draco cast an glare at Lockhart.
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."
With that, he unlatches his cape and throws it towards an knot of girls. All of whom appearing that they might swoon at the thought of catching his cape. Agatha was swallowing back vomit at this point.
"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile as he gestured to her godfather. Who had followed him on the stage moments prior. "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!"
"He's done for," said Draco, as Vincent, Greg, and Theo chuckled. And Agatha was filled with satisfaction at the sight of Uncle Severus' curling his lip. With Lockhart's smile, it was obvious enough that Lockhart was going to have his arse handed to him. As any other person would been running as fast as they could in the opposite direction.
Everyone in the hall watched with bated breath as the two men bowed and walked towards opposite sides of the stage. Their wands pointing towards each other.
"One - two – three –" said Professor Lockhart, biding his time as his wand was raised above his head.
"Expelliarmus!" cried Uncle Severus, a dazzling flash of scarlet light coming from his wand 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.
An cheer tore from Agatha's lungs as she relished the site of Lockhart's humiliation. Her brother and an few others joining in. Charlotte, however, looked concerned. "Is he alright?" she asked.
"He should be," Blaise scoffed. "Especially with all the stuff he said he has done."
Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His wavy hair askew.
"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..."
Uncle Severus was looking murderous. 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. Uncle Severus gestured to her, Miles, and Abigail, and they followed him to a knot of Gryffindors from their year. All appearing displeased to see them. "Mister Fred Weasley, you can partner Mister Bletchley, Mister George Weasley, you can partner Miss Bletchley, and Miss Spinnet can partner Miss Malfoy."
Both sets of twins scowled at each other while Spinnet gave her an weak smile. Which Agatha returned with a polite one.
Back on the platform, Lockhart called out instructions ("Remember that you can disarm only!" was one of them). And Agatha had yet to incant the disarming charm when Spinnet shouts, "Furnunculus!"
There's an wave of pain as she feels her face cover in boils. One hand on her face, Agatha shouts, "Reverso Patella!"
Spinnet groans in pain as Uncle Severus comes near them, reversing the hexes and jinxes that both had inflicted on the other.
Both Miles and one of the Weasley twins were lying on the ground, panting; the other one was laughing loudly as if Abigail just hit them with the tickling charm; A few feet away, Angelina Johnson collapsed shortly after her dueling partner cast the Jelly-Legs Jinx.
"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."
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the middle of the hall. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you –"
"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," interrupted Uncle Severus. "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. How about Malfoy and Potter?"
"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, as Agatha groaned. She watched as Harry and her brother were gestured to the middle of her room. As Lockhart talks to Harry, the former dropping his wand. With Harry's reaction, it had to be ludicrous.
Which was in stark contrast to her brother's smirk as Uncle Severus was whispering to him.
"Three - two - one – go!" Lockhart shouted as both teachers took their distance.
Draco raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"
A black snake shoots from the end of his wand, and even if she wasn't near it, she was still pulled back with the others by her. Watching as it slithered towards Harry. Raising itself to strike. Of course, her brother would do something that might land Harry in the Hospital Wing recovering from snake bites.
"Don't move, Potter," said Uncle Severus lazily, not hiding that he was enjoying the site before him. "I'll get rid of it for you."
"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.
Uncle Severus seemed as if he was going to step forward to take care of the angry snake when Harry walked over to it.
"Leave him alone!" Harry commanded.
Stagnant tension fills the air as those around Agatha turn silent. For Agatha, she shook her head. Not wanting to believe what she just heard. It couldn't be. He spoke…she wasn't the only here that could –?
The snake lumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now on Harry.
"What do you think you're playing at?" Finch-Fletchley demanded at a confused Harry before the former stormed out of the hall. Uncle Severus incinerated the black snake, and Harry looked even more confused and even scared when the former looked at the latter shrewdly. Draco stood frozen in his spot, his face a mixture of disbelief and shock.
"It's him then," Agatha heard someone whisper as she watched Ron Weasley grab the confused and frightened Harry by his robes to drag him towards the door. "Potter's the Heir of Slytherin."
"He couldn't be," she whispered, still not fathoming what she just heard. Still could not fathom that Harry was the second person in this school that had that ability as well.
Maybe the only other person that could.
Someone pulls her back as the crowd parts and Harry locks eyes with her, still confused, before he turns his gaze away from her. As if he saw her thoughts on her face.
"What just happened?" asked Vincent cluelessly as Agatha still tried to make sense of it all.