Whispers in Harry's Head

AN: So it has been a while. Don't be angry, just be glad it is here. It has arrived.

The next one is already in the works

Follow for marvelously missed deadlines and to get an update.

Italics represents thoughts/Tom thinkings

Bold represents parseltongue

This represents Harry's thoughts

Chapter 4: House of Malfoy

The voice of a woman screaming, flash of green, Harry was shaking, and then he awoke.

A nightmare.

Harry opened his eyes to a bright sunny day, in a room he didn't recognise. It took him a while to adjust, it had barely been a few days since he first arrived in Diagon Alley. Each day he woke up with a new wave of excitement.

Harry and Draco had been exchanging letters over the last couple of days, Narcissa had been organising a dinner party ever since she heard of her cousins return to the magical community. Yet Harry and Narcissa had yet to meet – that would change today. Narcissa planned for the two to have a nice day out together, without Draco or Lucius.

Harry had been shopping over the last few days, with the help and advice from a couple of contacts from the Malfoy's. Although Harry had no longer been wearing his cousins' hand-me-downs, ever since the incident when Dudley woke up with his old clothes on completely ripped. The Dursley's began to realise that whenever Harry wasn't happy about something, bad things happened. The fear was barely greater than their intolerance to magic, and so at times they would turn a blind eye to situations they could quickly rectify – such as clothing.

Wizards and muggles alike would often wear similar clothing, and Harry discovered that both Selfridges and Harrods had their own wizarding section when one knew how to find it.

He arrived outside the department store after getting the Northern Line and then Central Line tube from the Leaky Cauldron to Selfridges in Oxford Street. Charing Cross was the closest station, and he ended up at Bond Street station, which is brought Harry just outside of Selfridges. Narcissa was travelling via flu, straight to the wizarding section, so told Harry to ask security where he could find a robe fit for Merlin and that they would lead the way. Harry did so, and was immediately escorted to the personal shopping lounge.

The man in a black suit spoke to the receptionist at the lounge and said in a quiet but imperative tone "this one requires access to room number seven"

Seven was a special number in the wizarding world. Everything seemed to coalesce around this number. Seven was the age that magic generally revealed itself in a witch or wizard, however often it was the case that exceptional wizards were a little early, seven galleons is the price of a wand, and there were seven core classes in Hogwarts.

The receptionist nodded with a smile and immediately understood. She brought Harry to the seventh room in the personal shopping lounge. She tried the door, which was locked, and then knocked seven times. The door swung open without any hesitation after the seventh knock, without the need to turn the handle, as if with the sudden force of the wind. She gestured Harry to enter, and then she closed the door behind him – trying her best not to look inside.

When she closed the door, the room lit up immediately with candles. He saw a man sitting at the reception desk wearing a very professional looking black set of robes. Harry instantly knew he was in the right place.

"Good afternoon Sir. May I take your name please?" He smiled taking out his quill and dabbing it onto the ink.

"Harry Potter" the young chap exclaimed with certainly.

The man knocked over his bottle of ink as he jolted to his feet. "Good Lord, Harry Potter?" He shook Harry's hand, speaking in a hidden Northern accent, "a real pleasure sir. I'm Bolton White. What may our team help you with today?"

"I am here to see Narcissa Malfoy" Harry smiled back, standing up straight with perfect posture and shaking the man's hand with a firm grip.

"Why of course sir, if you'd follow me. The private lounge is on the first door on the right"

The man took Harry's back with his hand to guide him in the right direction. He was about six feet tall, medium cut brown hair standing up straight, and absolutely perfectly clean shaven. He matched Harry's pace fluently, and guided him into the room. The door opened before as they approached, as if it knew that was the destination of the two, and he guided Harry in.

A tall brown-haired lady with blonde sides was standing with her back to the door talking to a couple of the stylists, commanding them in the right direction.

"How about the Burberry trench, ma'am?"

"Yes, yes, Burberry trench. Absolute classic. Small and medium, we don't know the size of our dear boy"

"You say he is eleven, ma'am?"

"Well, yes, soon enough. A growing chap"

"Excuse me ladies, Madam Malfoy, I believe your company has arrived" Bolton stood with his hands behind his back and Harry stepped forward.

Narcissa Malfoy's head turned sharply, but elegantly, and her face beamed with delight. She was wearing a leather brown crop jacket with a marvellously flowing blue and white dress. She was was stunning and so elegant. Harry went to shake her hand, but she warmly embraced him like a long-lost friend.

"Oh Harry, it is absolutely wonderful to see you. After all these years!" She continued to hold him

Harry, on the other hand, was speechless. He had finally met family who was happy to see him. This had never happened before. It felt as though his heart was whole and everything was at peace, like a gentle breeze on a Summer day. Nothing could go wrong. Narcissa could feel Harry's heart stop for a moment and soothe.

"This must be hard for you, meeting family that you've never known about" she realised and let go of him and stood up straight. Although she wasn't as close to him, he felt her warmth flowing from her.

"No. It isn't. It feels right" Harry chimed in, "it feels… good"

"I'm glad" she blushed. "Now, we definitely need to get you fitted and tailored for some clothes. Amanda, how about we start with these and if they fit, I will be confident in the size for the rest. A young chap like Harry cannot be patient enough for shopping all day!"

"Yes ma'am" Amanda stepped up from behind the rail and brought Harry into the first changing room with handfuls of clothes to try on.

"Harry, darling, we haven't got the room in this place to leave all of her stuff" Narcissa laughed, "How about I get some of the house elves to move your items to our house?"

"Are you sure?" Harry insisted, not wanting to intrude. "I'm sure if we squeeze some things in we can fit even more! I could instead leave some things at the Dursley's…"

"Harry, I insist. We wouldn't want things to crease, and we have another load coming!" Narcissa assured

It was perfectly polite, if not customary, to question the need for someone's inconvenience. However, it would be completely rude, as Harry has learned, to argue when someone insists, and so conceded the point and the house elves started to move some of Harry's items to Malfoy Manor.

Narcissa had planned this from the start. Firstly, in all honesty, she wanted Harry to move in because it would keep them closer and Harry that little bit more dependent on them. But for genuine reasons, she was also concerned about the prospect of him living and leaving things in the muggles. Further, temporary accommodation, such as the leaky cauldron, was temporary and rife with thievery. Harry had the most secure room, and it would be severely unlikely for his room to be broken into, but it was Harry Potter – which made danger more likely to happen.

"Now, please I must insist that you come and go into our Manor as you please dear cousin of mine. You are always welcome, even if to just take some things or grab a bite to eat or pick up something" Narcissa said expressing tenderness. "Let us go for lunch. I bet you're starving, I'm famished. There's a fabulously gorgeous French restaurant that we must go to"

Narcissa and Harry were sitting in a lovely French restaurant in the centre of London. The atmosphere was so unique, almost feeling that they had changed cities. Harry was wearing his new hairstyle, a style where it was a sort of quiff and shoved up to the right – very different and more distinguished than his usual mopped look.

Narcissa had been setting the mood for the last hour, firstly trying to get an insight into Harry's mind, but asking difficult questions about his past. Narcissa took this as the opportunity to have a long-needed family catch-up. She could appreciate Harry being family, but it wasn't clear for Tom whether it was for show or convenience. His instinct was that the Malloy family saw an opportunity in Harry, but couldn't identify what it could be beyond the obvious guise of keeping up appearances.

"Bonjour, darling." She kissed the cheeks of the host, in a French kiss

"Ah! Madam Narcissa, it is a delight to see you" He replied in a Parisian accent. "Et you have brought un little friend?"

"Harry Potter, sir." Harry exclaimed putting out his hand to shake

"It is a pleasure to meet you Monsieur Potter!" The host shook his hand with great fervour. "You can call me Monsieur Léandre. If you would both follow me, there is a beautiful spot in the back"

Narcissa ordered her drink de jure, a glass of rose champagne. She followed her usual method of ordering a selection of the starters as a sort of taster, and then they both ordered mains.

I'd be wary Harry, tread on your toes. She has no real reason to hate you yet, but you could be a future rival to her.

But she's family, Tom.

Barely… Family means nothing

"So, Harry, do tell me, what is a Dursley?" Narcissa asked sweetly as she sipped from their rose

"A Dursley?" Harry chuckled, "A Dursley is basically the lowest one can steep in society. I wish I could say they are the squib of the muggle world, but other muggles aren't much better."

"I just find it fascinating that Dumbledore would send you there." Narcissa exclaimed, "It takes a very particular type of crazy to leave a young baby in the hands of monsters – especially when you have family here."

"I can't say I've met the chap–"

"Oh, you will." Narcissa chipped in bluntly, her voice broke through like a blade. "He is a filthy blood-traitor, ruining that fine school. Not like in my day. You know, I had two minds about sending my dear Draco there, Lucius insisted we send him to Durmstrang – but it's simply too far away!"

"Where is that based?"

"Northern Europe, somewhere in Scandinavia. They're quite secretive." Narcissa sipped her drink. "But really Harry, why were they so ghastly?"

"I actually find it quite difficult to describe them. It doesn't make sense. Imagine the most anti-magic muggle in the world, and they are beyond that. If they were in Salem, they'd think that burning was too kind. They often would try to stamp the magic out–"

"Excuse me?" Narcissa almost shouted from across the table, cutting through Harry's train of thought. She slammed her hand on the table. It scared him. "That son of a Mountain Troll!"

Narcissa knew why Dumbledore sent Harry to live with the Dursleys; Narcissa saw through the perfect plot. Dumbledore wanted Harry to become dependent, to want to be close to Hogwarts. The closer Harry wanted to be to Hogwarts, and the more he relied on it to get away from the Dursleys, the more he wanted to do good for Dumbledore and work for the light. To see Dumbledore as the man who saved Harry from the world that was the Dursleys, and he would continue to save him year after year. Every September when he boarded that train it was because of Dumbledore.

Narcissa knew she would have to first cut off the means for Dumbledore to use this sort of Stockholm Syndrome to ooze his way into Harry becoming his pawn.

"You know Harry," Narcissa began, "The Dursleys, as I am sure you are aware, are not the only muggles in the world that hate magic. They all hate magic. It was why we had to hide our identity from them. It is why we have built this beautiful community away from them, but it is horrible having to hide in the shadows. We shouldn't have to."

"You're right." Harry began. "The reason why I haven't seen it in other muggles is because we don't talk about magic, but the Dursleys are the best example of what happens when they do find out."

"Exactly! History is oh too full of examples of them stamping magic out. Luckily, we were much too smart to be captured, they too often killed themselves." Narcissa agreed. "And we see, Dumbledore and his followers are rapidly pushing for change. They're interbreeding with this horrible spawn, and bringing this anti-magic taint into our systems."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

"Harry, they hate us. It is in their very blood and self to be against magic, it is out of jealously and so much more. If we breed with this kind then we come across people who are less potent with magic, and over generations our powers have become weaker and weaker. When one reads about the founders of Hogwarts, one learns of the great wealth of knowledge and power that they had. One cannot imagine a wizard of these faded days that have been able to arise up and challenge their accomplishments.

"We need to ensure that this taint does not etch into our system and cause our magic to faulter. We would lose the very thing that we are. Magic is a part of you Harry. It is a part of me. It is a part of every single wizard in this country. Without it, we would be but like the savages, the muggles, that walk the rest of this Earth." Narcissa paused. When Narcissa talked about these things, Harry could feel the coldness of her breath, it was not a frosty cold but cold like a panther in the wild. Unforgiving, unrelentless, and predatory. It was a predatory cold. Harry could feel the raw emotion, and it made him shiver.

"Well, if I am related to muggles," Harry began, "then what does that make me?"

"Oh, no, Harry." Narcissa was quick to reassure, realising her mistake. "You must not worry about that. If you prove yourself, apply yourself, and align yourself with the rest of us – your blood will be as pure. Purge the taint from the family and your blood will be as strong. You are from the great line of Potter. If you side with us, you have our power, and your own strong reputation, together as one united we could get away with so much stuff. Imagine what we could do!"

Oh. Very clever. DO IT, Harry.

What do you mean? Harry pondered with Tom.

She's right. Dearest Narcissa is trying to help you Harry, trust Tom and follow her.

"How do we begin?" Harry sat forward in his seat naively.

"All I needed was your interest." Narcissa sipped from her drink victoriously. The rest will come in time, she thought. The starters had just arrived, and when the final plate had been sat, Harry followed Narcissa's lead and took a little from each plate. "Now, let us discuss the party tomorrow night. I've decided to scrap the idea, in favour of a much more intimate setting. Lucius' parents are popping over a visit, and I'd absolutely love for you to meet the rest of the family."

Harry finished what he was chewing, an assortment of oily bread topped with olives and ham, and took a sip of water. "Well of course, I am available. It would be my pleasure to meet them."

"Abraxas Malfoy is a very capable man, very intelligent. Roselina Malfoy, born Rowle, is also from a very capable and noble family – another good name on the list of the pure blood twenty-eight. Which reminds me, we would require you to meet the Knott family at some stage. Do remind me. They drew up the list, and if there's any way of changing that list we would need to keep in their good books. Our own list would not nearly be as legitimate. Befriend the son, he'll be in your year. Theodore, I believe." Narcissa said openly discussing her thoughts with Harry.

"Is there anything I need to know about the two of them, anything that would keep me in their good books?" Harry asked with a keen eye.

"Good question. They're very much in favour of etiquette and tradition. Don't wear brown with black… actually scratch that, just don't wear brown. Good shoes wouldn't go amiss, and a proper shirt. Yes, Abraxas loves his shirts – but nothing too loud. By which I mean, keep it conservative." Narcissa rambled on, with Harry trying to make sense of it all. "Abraxas loves to talk, so if he continues to talk just let him and he'll think it's a good conversation."

"Do tell me, cousin of mine, how are we related again?" Harry finally asked

"I suppose I haven't said. I was born Narcissa Black and, naturally, the Potters are related to us through your great grandfather. It's a bit of a distant relationship, but all pure bloods are somehow linked through one way or another. Our blood is related. I naturally want what's best for you.

"Harry, you're a celebrity. Everyone will want to spend time with you, and you will learn that there is no point wasting your time with a great many of them – but it would be loudest that makes their way into the fold if you open yourself up to everyone. Believe me, the loudest and pushiest are the most uninteresting.

"Together we will be on the road to greatness." Narcissa smiled again. They both lifted their glasses and clinked them together. Just in time for the main course.

"Greatness" Harry's eyes widened with a smile. Narcissa made note of it.

At the end of the main course Narcissa decided it was time to pay for the bill.

"Harry, darling, how about you visit the Manor and we can show you the place ahead of tomorrow evening? We can have a good cup of tea, and I'm sure Draco would want to see you."

"I'd loved to!"

"Of course. Have you apparated before?" Narcissa asked, but Harry shook his head to say no. "Well, prepare to be sick"

Narcissa, without hesitation, held Harry's hand, and he could feel in entire body breaking and shrinking. He could feel a strange twisting around him, and a dizziness. The only possible way to describe the experience would be of (FILL). And the quietest pop could be heard.

"Not bad, but I suppose I am good." Narcissa raised her right eyebrow. "You weren't sick."

Harry, after a minute, managed to recover and open his eyes to what was the most beautiful place he had ever seen. They landed on the red carpet in front of the staircase. It was dark, but majestic. Could easily be mistaken for a palace in a way. It was airy, spacious, and the ceiling went to what would be one and a half double decker buses at least. With the right windows and light, the Manor could look even better, Harry thought.

"Welcome to our home." Narcissa smiled.

"This place" Harry murmured. He was completely dazed and lost for words.

Narcissa clicked her fingers, and, with the quietest pop, quieter than Narcissa's and barely audible, a short elf looking creature appeared in front of her. Harry jumped a little at the sight, but realised quickly that it was a house elf. A creature he had read about in one of Lucius' books, and concluded immediately that he was to have one.

"Harry Potter and I will each have a cup of tea in the front facing drawing room immediately." Narcissa commanded imperatively, but with unfriendliness. She didn't care to say the name. It was a very much master and servant relationship there. The little creature immediately popped away. "That is one of the house elves. Terribly stupid creatures, but good for manual work nevertheless. That one has served the Malfoy family for many a generation. If you need anything dear cousin of mine, just call for Dobby."

"Harry Potter!" Draco shouted from the bannister at the top of the staircase. It was one of those wide staircases which broke into two at the top to the left and to the right. Draco walked gracefully and elegantly, with a slight spring to his step. "Good to see you." Draco stopped short of hugging Harry as he came to meeting Harry.

The ground vibrated a little from a faint but deep and angry growl. Draco's and Narcissa's eyes darted towards each other with an angry look.

"What was–" Harry began

"Nothing!" Narcissa interrupted without thinking, simply blurting the words out. "I'll be back in just a moment, boys. How about you go outside? Yes! Outside! I'll not be a moment."

Draco and Harry were quickly left alone with a hurried Narcissa trying to look at casual as possible. There was a couple of moments of awkward silence as Draco led Harry outside into the lavish garden the Malfoy's owned on the back of their house.

"What was that?" Harry asked almost immediately as they left the place

"I'm not really supposed to say" Draco admitted, but quickly attempted to steer the conversation. "Quidditch then, I remember you said you never played"

"Nope" Harry summed up briefly

"Disgusting muggles hiding you away like that, magic is your birth rite!"

And so, Draco began to explain the rules of quidditch to Harry again. He went into more detail this time, especially about strategy around the specific positions.

"So, you're telling me, the game can go on for an eternity?" Harry questioned

"Sure, but it's terribly rare unfortunately" Draco admitted. "I have yet to witness a game that lasts longer than a day, sadly"

"Sadly?" Harry questioned with a giggle. "Sounds like a nightmare if it's anything like football"

"Football?"

"What the muggles play" they both scolded and tutted. "Terribly boring! They run around a pitch, I suppose a little like the pitch you described, and there's only one goal on each side."

"Sounds dreadful. A primitive game, clearly" Draco laughed. "Don't worry, you'll love quidditch"

Quidditch is dreadful. Tom sighed. You're exactly right, but the purebloods love it

If you hate it, it must be good

Shut up

"Anyway, let's play!" Draco grabbed a couple of broomsticks and they started playing

It didn't take long for Harry get to grips with flying, he was a rather good flier in fact. The only problem was that he was awful at playing with the quaffle. It was too bulky for it to be comfortable while flying with it.

"You're more of a seeker" Draco shouted from his broomstick as they descended to a land after over an hour playing. "A natural in fact. I prefer to be a chaser, more action! My father was a champion chaser when he played. Led Slytherin into winning each of his games"

"That was rather good fun!" Harry admitted

Oh, not you as well. If you die from playing, I'll make sure we rot in hell together.

Impossible. You're already my personal hell.

Abraxis Malfoy looked much like his son Lucius, but he was much older. He had a glare that could slice glass in half.

"Dumbledore, you say, left the boy that defeated the Dark Lord in the hands of muggles?" Abraxis scowled as he sipped his wine. "What a fool, an absolute fool. He has always been a fool, leading that wonderful school straight into the ground. Back in our day, there was a sense of duty and pride around Hogwarts. Yet now they've abandoned our dark arts and our very pureblood traditions! Defence against the dark arts, what thrilling drivel. The only way to defend is to know the dark arts."

"Here, here" Lucius agreed, almost as if he was in the Muggle Parliament. "Couldn't agree more. We considered sending dear Draco of ours to Durmstrang, but in the end it was much too far away of course – and the family tradition to go to Hogwarts. Of course, we will teach him the family way in his own good time. Oh, and of course, Harry. You will be taught as well, we wouldn't leave you out."

"And you say you want to fix the Potter line?" Abraxas Malfoy peered down at the boy sitting two seats down from him. Abraxas was sitting at the very end of the table, on what would be Lucius' usual seat.

"Yes, sir" Harry admitted without hesitation. He felt a little intimidated by the man.

"I always pitied the Potter's ever since your father found that mudblood filth. How your grandfather put up with it, I don't know." Abraxas stated matter of factly, very rudely.

Narcissa could feel that it wasn't perfectly right to completely admonish and smear his mother in front of him in the manner. Not yet at least. He had not yet been perfectly prepared for this situation, and for the criticism of his family. "There was a lot to be admired about Lili Potter" Narcissa lied through her teeth.

"Filthy mudblood. Mudbloods just don't have the same aptitude with magic as we do, it's a fact of nature. They don't deserve their power, they draw on muggle blood. They haven't a magical bone in their body. Some can memorise books, but when it comes to real magic they fail." Abraxas continued uncaringly with no uncertainty. "With the right training and mentoring I see that Harry can be a strong young capable of fixing the Potter bloodline and reputation... Sit up!" Harry jumped up on his seat, having mistakenly slouched with discourtesy for the last few minutes. "But we know what must be done."

"What's that sir?" Harry asked with great enthusiasm, yet that feeling of anxiety was lodged in his stomach.

"Well we must take you to the ministry and etch her name out of your family tree for starters." Abraxas answered

"Doesn't sounds like very much" Harry admitted confused

Lucius decided to step into the conversation, having observed the almost uncomfortable interaction between the two. Abraxas was too old to shy away from uncomfortable matters, and always open to speaking his mind – especially in the wrong situation. Lucius believed that his father was taking entirely the wrong approach. "You see, Harry, doing this would be one of the greatest insults possible on a wizard. Second only to snapping a wand. It's significant; not without ramifications. Permanent. The Ministry holds the official records, and, with the right votes in the Wizengamot, we can remove her from your lineage for good after you've made the effort of removing her name. However, only after your removing her."

The filthy mudblood deserves it. The muggles are disgusting creatures and their spawn need to be removed Harry. Were Tom to have a face, it would show the smile of a terrible grinch.

"Does my blood then become clean?"

"It's not so clear cut," Lucius admitted, "there isn't a simple cure or test of your blood to ensure you're pure. It's why we hold family records to prove our worth, but no one would doubt your pure nature were you to take the right path of course. I haven't seen someone remove their own mother before, but you're a special case Harry. Let's have you think about this personally a little longer and you and I can discuss this later. Just us two.

"Oh, I have a good question mother." Lucius said attempting to steer the conversation onto another voyage "How are the Lowe's these days? Is Sinistra doing well?"

"Oh yes, darling." His mother spoke for the first time since starters. "We were just talking the other week, actually, I had her round for some afternoon tea of course. She's writing a new book actually, The Muggle Conspiracy. I believe that's the title she has. It's quite fascinating stuff, really highlights how the muggles have been slowly etching their way into our society and jeopardising our secrecy by some having interbred with them. The more muggles we breed with, the more likely our truth will get out and we will lose the very thing that we are. Did you hear the story in the Daily Prophet about the entire family that had to be obliviated after a family had a divorce and the husband had threatened to expose her as a witch if he didn't get the settlement he wanted? Nasty stuff!"

"It wouldn't even need to take that." Harry spoke up. "Imagine a jealous sister where a mudblood to be accepted and the other not."

"Very wise, young chap." She smiled at him adoringly. One might mistake it for pride.

Lucius laughed uncomfortably having got back onto the subject he had been hoping to avoid. "I don't believe I caught that one. Are you reading Rita Skeeter again, mother?"

"Oh she's good, isn't she!" She encouraged as desert arrived at the table.

Harry could feel something brushing past his leg very slowly, and it made him uncomfortable. For a moment he thought it might be someone's foot, but the angle simply wouldn't make sense. He dared not to look under the table. It was long and moving past him. He looked across the table, and he could tell from Draco's face that he felt something too.

"Oh, Bassi. Just in time for trifle." Abraxas laughed and looked under the table. Harry looked in amazement as a snake face rose up to meet Abraxas, and moved around him. It was pure green, with scale skin, and a long slithery tongue sticking out. "Off the table, it's bad manners to have you at the table."

Unmoving, as if not having spoken, the snake continued to rest beside its master.

"He's lovely, how long have you had him?" Harry said staring at the snake, and then the snake met Harry's eyes sharply in an instant. Abraxas looked whiter than his hair for once.

We weren't ready to reveal that, boy

Reveal what?

"I'm a she, not an he, thank you very much speaker" the snake replied in what could only be regarded as a sassy slithery tone

"I do apologise" Harry laughed, and then looked at the shell-shocked face of Draco sitting across from him. Abraxas looked whiter than his hair for once and the entire table was suddenly staring at Harry. He felt unnerved.

"You're a parseltongue, Harry?" Draco stammered for the first time in his life. His unwavering confidence in himself, or should I say entitlement, was shook.

"But that is not possible" Abraxas interrupted before Harry could ask. "Never before has a Potter been a parseltongue, and it's a hereditary gift. Unless…"

"Lili Evans" Lucius finished

Narcissa continued to stare at her confused cousin, and by this stage the snake had left for the other room after having her fun. The entire table was transfixed on Harry. No one had a chance to tuck into desert yet. There was a minute of pure uninterrupted silence, a pin could be heard dropping from the top of the astronomy tower. The roar of an ethereal ghost in Albania could almost be heard. Harry was red in the face like spoilt pumpkin juice.

People were slowly coming to the realisation in their heads that Lili Evans may have been a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself.

"Well, I always thought highly of that girl. Always heard good things" Abraxas announced after a couple of moments of uncomfortable silence, forgetting the entire conversation from before. A true seer.

His wife rolled her eyes. Of course you did, she thought sarcastically to herself.

AN: I felt the need to just get the parseltongue stuff out of the way, and to develop the "Who is Lili Evans?". It's not necessarily that Lili is related to Salazar Slytherin, but I felt that the books didn't properly question how Harry has this power and why people are not suspicious. Or maybe she is related... all to be revealed. Follow for more.