Chapter 20 - Hissing and Whispers

Harry woke early Saturday morning. He had been too excited to get much sleep the night before. After all, today was the day of Slytherin's Quidditch team try-outs. Since Terrence Higgs graduated the year before, there was only one vacancy - Seeker – the position Harry was most eager to play. He pulled on his clothes in the dark, then crept over to Blaise's bed, shaking him awake.

"Huh? What's the matter?" Blaise asked after waking with a jerk.

"Shh!" said Harry, covering Blaise's mouth and nodding toward Malfoy's bed. He knew Malfoy wouldn't miss an opportunity to vie for the same position, and Harry didn't want to spoil his head-start by waking him.

"Breakfast..." Harry mouthed silently. Blaise tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but Harry began pulling at his blankets, exposing him to the chill air and waking him up entirely. Blaise shot Harry a dirty glare, but kept his complaints to himself as he crawled out of bed and tugged on a pair of thick socks.

They didn't speak until they were already in the common room. In spite of the early hour, Harry was surprised to see Millie already awake, seated in one of the armchairs and scribbling in a notebook by the light of the dying fire.

Blaise pointed his wand at the embers and muttered a spell. The flames jumped back to life and Millie lifted her head to them in greeting.

"All right, Millie?" asked Harry, "Couldn't sleep either?"

"Are you kidding? I've been up all night!" Millie said, stretching her arms far above her head and standing from the chair, "It's today, isn't it? Quidditch try-outs?"

Harry had his broom in hand and showed Millie. Blaise had his own broom resting against his shoulder. He gave a wide yawn as Harry explained, "I figured I'd get a quick warm-up before breakfast. You know, just for an extra edge on the competition."

Millie, without anything else to occupy her morning, accompanied Harry and Blaise down to the Quidditch pitch. The sun was barely above the horizon, and their feet were getting soaked by the dew still clinging to the grass. Harry was grateful for his warm sweater and coat as his breath frosted the chill morning air. Blaise complained the entire walk down, saying that Harry was lucky he liked him so much. Harry assured him he'd feel differently once they were airborne.

He was right. Blaise's complaints melted away as he and Harry took to the sky. Under the same impulse of sudden joy, they both gave a whoop of laughter and raced each other around the pitch two or three times just for fun. Harry was pleased to see that although they had the same model of broomstick, he was still the faster flier. Feeling confident in himself, he drew from his pocket the practice snitch Blaise had given him last Christmas, and they began to race in earnest. Blaise managed to get the better of Harry at spying the snitch first, and caught it once himself. But Harry was able to beat him in four out of five trial runs, and his confidence grew, especially after he managed a particularly difficult catch using a move he'd read about in Quidditch Quarterly.

They returned to the Great Hall in good spirits just as the first early-risers began to trickle in for breakfast. Harry spotted Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin team, seated by himself at the long dining table. He was reading over the Daily Prophet and eating a large helping of pancakes. Harry waved away Blaise and Millie, saying they could get started without him, and he walked to Flint with every intention of schmoozing before the try-outs.

"Morning, Flint," Harry said by way of greeting, hoping that he seemed like a friendly, dependable sort of person you would want on your Quidditch team.

Flint flicked his eyes up from the paper, giving Harry a once-over. Harry had never actually spoken to the Quidditch captain before. He was a very tall, ogre-ish looking boy with sallow, pockmarked skin and a uni-brow. He was not the sort of person Harry would ever willingly talk to, but he needed to make nice with him now if he had any hopes of getting on the team. Harry tried not to let Flint's semi-permanent scowl intimidate him. He reminded himself that Millie wasn't very good-looking either, but she was one of his best friends. Perhaps Flint would exceed expectations.

"Potter," Flint grunted, immediately returning to his paper.

This was not a very promising start, but Harry mustered his courage and asked, "Er... Quidditch trials are today, aren't they? When should I report to the pitch?"

"Quidditch trials?" Flint asked, his attention drawn away from the paper again as he gave Harry a closer look.

"Er... yes," Harry said. He was finding Flint very difficult to read. "There's an opening for Seeker, isn't there? I'd like to try out for the position."

Flint set his paper aside entirely. Harry took this as a good sign and submitted patiently to the critical examination Flint was giving him.

"Well, you've certainly got the build of a Seeker," he said after what seemed like forever, "Have you ever flown before?"

"Yes," Harry replied instantly, though he neglected to mention that he'd never played a real game of Quidditch. "I'm fast, too. I once caught a flying key bewitched by Professor Flitwick. That was last year, in the third floor corridor."

Harry still couldn't read Flint's expression, but he hoped to impress. The whole school knew enough about Harry's adventures in the forbidden corridor last year. Harry hoped the reminder of his exploits during his first year would bolster his favor with Flint.

"What sort of broom do you ride?" Flint asked.

"A Nimbus 2000," said Harry proudly.

Flint sucked his teeth, making a wet, clicking sound.

"Sorry, Potter," Flint said to Harry's disappointment, "The position has already been filled."

Harry's stomach dropped, and he couldn't stop himself from exclaiming, "By who?"

Flint had the decency to look a little ashamed as he replied, "Lucius Malfoy just made a generous donation to the team. We'll all be riding Nimbus 2001s."

"So his son could be Seeker, is that right?"

"Sorry," Flint said again, shrugging his shoulders.

"But Malfoy can't fly like I can," Harry said bitterly, though he hadn't seen Malfoy on the back of a broom since their flying lessons last year. "You can't buy real talent!"

Flint picked up his paper again. "I believe you, Potter. But I have to think of the team, not just one player. We're stronger as a unit with top-of-the-line racing brooms. Of course, if it really bothers you, you can join the reserve team."

"Forget it," said Harry. He would rather remain a spectator than take second-best to Draco Malfoy. He stalked away from Flint without another word, and he could hear the older boy chuckling behind him, obviously taking amusement from Harry's frustration. Harry felt as if he hated him, and tried to console himself with the thought that it was better not to be on a team managed but such a morally despicable captain. But his disappointment was too great, and it was with very heavy feelings that he sank into his seat next to Blaise and Millie.

His friends could read his expression easily, and knew right away that something was wrong. Harry explained in a few words that Malfoy had bought his way onto the team. His friend's abuse of Draco was loud and enthusiastic, reaching its pitch just as the villain himself appeared. Draco had taken his time coming down for breakfast, knowing full well that no morning warm-up would be necessary for him. His position on the team was already secured. He shot Harry a complacent smirk as he settled next to Flint and the other members of the Slytherin team, who were all devouring a hearty breakfast before preparing for their first practice.

"Come on, let's get out of here, Harry," Blaise said, seeing the dark expression on Harry's face as he watched Malfoy with envy, "We'll go visit Hagrid! That'll cheer you up. And I've been wanting to show him Ouroboros. I just know he'll love him."

"Alright," Harry said, getting to his feet and following his friends out of the hall with little enthusiasm. His plans for the day being ruined, he felt as if he didn't have much energy for anything else, and he was willing to follow whatever suggestion the others had.

They stalked across the grounds toward Hagrid's cabin near the edge of the forbidden forest. As the small hut came into view, Blaise suddenly stopped in his tracks and uttered an "Oh no!"

He turned toward Harry and asked, "Did you bring the cloak?"

"No," Harry replied. Blaise was referring to the invisibility cloak that had been Harry's fathers. Harry had taken to carrying it with him everywhere during their schemes of last year, but since the start of their second year at Hogwarts, Harry hadn't seen much need for the interesting item, and it remained safety tucked away in his trunk.

"Damn," Blaise cursed. He cast his eyes around their immediate vicinity and quickly pulled Harry and Millie behind a large hedge nearby.

Harry was about to ask why they were hiding in a bush when the answer walked up the path toward them. Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in mauve robes today, glided toward them, whistling to himself absent-mindedly. Harry didn't blame Blaise for wanting to hide. Over the past week, Lockhart had never missed an opportunity to ask Blaise about his mother. Harry was always included in these little exchanges, as Lockhart never forgot to give Harry "a friendly word of advice" for the day when Harry became as famous as him.

Fortunately, Lockhart hadn't spied their quick dash behind the hedge, and they successfully avoided another painful conversation with him.

"He must be coming from Hagrid's cabin," Millie observed, "What do you suppose he wanted there?"

"Let's find out," Harry said, crawling out from behind the bush. He was still feeling his Quidditch disappointment, but his curiosity was peaked by this near run-in with Lockhart, so close to Hagrid's home. He and his friends jogged the rest of the way to the cabin and knocked loudly at the door.

They heard Hagrid's heavy footfalls cross the room quickly, and he swung open the door with a scowl on his face. His expression quickly changed upon seeing the three guests on his doorstep. A smile spread over his ruddy features, and he beckoned them all inside with a friendly greeting.

"Thought yeh was someone else fer a moment," Hagrid said as he pulled out a fresh batch of treacle tart and served it to them.

"We saw," said Harry, "What was Lockhart doing here?

"Tryin' ter tell me how ter do my ruddy job," Hagrid growled, "As if I don' know how ter get a Kelpie out of a well! Finally left when I told him I'd never read any of his books, and never would. But what are yeh three doin' here? I'da thought yeh'd be at the try-outs, Harry."

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it yet, but with Blaise and Millie pressuring him he felt he couldn't long refuse.

After his explanation, Hagrid's indignation was great.

"Ought to be against the rules!" he thundered, "A student buying 'is way onter the team! An' Harry is a much better flier than that puny Malfoy kid."

Hagrid had never once seen Harry fly, but Harry appreciated his support all the same.

"Come on," Hagrid said suddenly, "I got summat ter show yeh. Might cheer yeh up."

Harry and the others rose to follow Hagrid, who let them out of his hut and around the back. Harry was surprised to see a patch of pumpkins. Most were still very green, but they were all swollen to nearly twice the size of a regular, full-grown pumpkin.

"Been growin' em for the Fall feast," Hagrid said proudly, "What deh yeh think?"

"They're great, Hagrid!" said Harry. Strangely, the sight of the overgrown pumpkins did cheer him a little, and the thought of the upcoming Halloween feast gave him something new to look forward to. "What are you feeding to them?"

"Oh, I mighta given 'em a little help," Hagrid said modestly. Harry knew better than to pry, but his thoughts were transported to Hagrid's flowery pink umbrella. Hagrid wasn't allowed to do magic. He'd told Harry as much last year. But Harry had also seen Hagrid use his old umbrella to light a fire and give Dudley a pig tail. He suspected the broken pieces of Hagrid's old wand were hidden within the handle of his umbrella, though he'd never even told his friends as much.

"How much bigger do you think they'll grow?" asked Millie, giving one of the nearest pumpkins an affectionate pat.

"Not sure," Hagrid said. The portion of his face not covered in beard wrinkled in thought, "I just hope they'll be matured by Halloween."

They trooped back inside, and Blaise suddenly remembered what brought him to Hagrid's in the first place.

"Hagrid!" he exclaimed, his hand diving into the pocket of his robes. "I have something to show you, too!"

He withdrew his hand, revealing Ouroboros the python, who had curled itself around Blaise's fingers and was staring at them all sleepily.

"Why, isn't he a beaut?" Hagrid said. He crouched lower so as to get a better look at the snake, "It's a Noose Python, innit? They're very rare! Have a bit ova bad reputation, but it's all nonsense. Friendliest little companions a wizard could have!"

"His name is Ouroboros," Blaise said proudly.

"Fine little guy," Hagrid stated.

Harry reached his finger toward the snake and tickled it fondly under its chin. "Actually, she's a girl," he clarified.

"What?" said Blaise, aghast.

"How dye know, Harry?" asked Hagrid.

"Because she told me," Harry explained.

"Harry!" Blaise whined, "Why didn't you say anything? I've been calling her Ouroboros for weeks! I should have given her something more feminine!"

"I don't think she minds being called Oro... O-rob-o... Forget it. I'm calling her Noodle, anyway. She really doesn't seem to mind what she's called."

"Still, I think you could have mentioned it."

Harry shrugged, and turned to Hagrid to get his opinion, when he noticed the stunned look on Hagrid's face.

"What's the matter, Hagrid."

"Harry... Yeh can understand snakes?"

"Oh sure!" Harry said. "And I can talk to them, too."

"He's a parselmouth," said Millie, "Harry's even promised to give us lessons."

"Yeah, watch."

Harry turned to the python and stared into her beady black eyes. The snake stared back and Harry heard its hissing voice murmur, Who's the big guy?

"His name is Hagrid," Harry hissed back, though of course to him it sounded as if he were talking normally. "He's a friend. Can you wave to him?"

Wave? How?

"Just flick your tail at him a little. Like a greeting."

The python turned its head toward Hagrid, uncurled the end of its tail from Blaise's wrist, and waggled it at Hagrid.

"Pretty cool, right, Hagrid?"

But Hagrid didn't look convinced.

"I dunno," he said, "It gives me a funny feeling. How long have you been able to do this, Harry?"

"Forever, I guess," said Harry. He explained to Hagrid in a few words how he'd once spoken to a snake at the zoo, but hadn't thought anything about it until he met Ouroboros in the pet shop.

"It seems funny is all. " Hagrid repeated. "Might give people the wrong impression if you three are sittin' around hissin' at each other. If I were you, I'd keep it to myself for now."

He was clearly unsettled. Harry felt a little hurt by his cautious attitude. His friends had made it seem like being a parselmouth was a cool talent to have. It was something that made him unique that had nothing to do with his scar or his parent's deaths. The fact that Hagrid was treating it like something shameful made him feel disappointed in himself.

But Harry didn't want to fight with Hagrid on their first visit of the new term, so he willingly followed along with Blaise's change of subject, and he and Hagrid parted on good terms as the dinner hour approached.

Harry had managed to forget his troubles in Hagrid's cabin, but the disaster of the morning quickly came back to bite him during dinner. Malfoy sat among his new teammates, gloating over his new popularity while the upperclassmen gushed about how fast their brooms could go, and the looks on the Gryffindor team's faces when they saw their new broomsticks.

Harry did his best to ignore them, but unfortunately, Colin Creevy sat close to Harry's side. He was quick to commiserate with Harry, but he seemed more disappointed that he'd lost an opportunity to take pictures of Harry on his broom. He offered to take some shots anyway, should Harry ever want to practice with Blaise, and even mentioned that he was in the process of developing some photos he already took, and would Harry please sign them when they were done?

Harry couldn't remember ever posing for any shots for Colin, and he was struck with a feeling that the scrawny first year had been taking pictures of him behind his back. Colin's morose companion was sitting by his side, seemingly against his inclination, and he tried his best to quell Colin's enthusiasm, perhaps seeing the dark look on Harry's face. But there was no stopping Colin, who was loud in his support of Harry, which was starting to draw looks from Malfoy's end of the table.

"Come on," said Harry, leaving his meal unfinished, "I think I'm ready to turn in."

Millie and Blaise, though they'd hardly touched their food themselves, immediately rose to accompany him. Colin started to scrabble to his feet as well, but Pandey had the sense to hold him back and allow Harry to make his escape.

"Can you believe that Creevy kid?" Blaise exclaimed as soon as they were in the hall, "More like Creepy. Can't he take a hint?"

"Leave him alone," Harry commanded. Colin was annoying, but he wasn't the problem, and Harry wasn't in the mood to put someone else down to make himself feel better. Right now, all he wanted to do was return to their dormitory and play some sort of cruel prank on Malfoy for him to find on his return.

They were rounding the corner to the stairs that led to their dormitories when Harry heard it. It was faint, barely audible, but he thought he heard a whisper. He halted in his tracks. Blaise and Millie walked right past him in the middle of their own conversation. They stopped and turned back to him.

"Harry, what is it?" Millie asked.

Harry shushed her and made a sign to show he was listening for something. His two friends fell silent, waiting, then Harry heard it again, more clearly this time.

Rip... Tear...

"Did you hear that?" asked Harry. Blaise and Millie looked at each other and shrugged. Blaise opened his mouth as if to say something, when Harry waved for silence again.

Have to hunt... Have to kill...

"I hear someone whispering," Harry said, his own voice barely above a whisper, "You mean you really can't hear it?"

"We don't hear anything, Harry," Blaise replied. Millie nodded in agreement.

"It says it wants to kill..." Harry said fearfully. Perhaps it was only in his imagination, but he couldn't understand why his mind would invent something so terrifying.

Blaise and Millie looked scared as well, and they began to scan the shadows, wondering if there was someone hidden nearby, muttering quiet curses to themselves.

"It's probably just your imagination," Blaise said, though he hardly sounded convinced himself. "Come on. Let's just get to the common room."

He began walking down the stairs. Harry followed, somewhat reluctantly, into the cool gloom below, thinking that he'd never more regretted sleeping in the dungeons.