The snake who lived
Book 2: The Chamber of secrets
"I don't really know the rules of Quidditch… Is it true that there are four balls? And that two of them try to knock the players off their brooms?"
Colin Creevey, Harry Potter et la Chambre des Secrets, page 118
Chapter 7: Creevey glue
Author's notes: I really don't like how this chapter turned out. This is one of those I'll probably have to re-write one day. *sighhh* *Kills writer's block*
Time passed quickly at Hogwarts, for once. And Harry was grateful. The weekend whizzed by like a hummingbird on speed. Blaise's attitude went like a rollercoaster; high up, before crashing down at all speed when came Monday.
Why?
Because, that morning, their loyal timetables betrayed them with the absolute worst news ever made. Simple news that brought mixed feelings in their group. One of them being:
"WHYY!??!" Blaise theatrically queried the enchanted roof of the great hall, clenching the unfortunate piece of parchment in her fist. "Why POTIONS?!"
Yes. The reason for the girl's dismay is this, a single word scribbled on the parchment currently wishing it had limbs to escape the death grip it was suffering under. Double potions, first thing in the morning.
Harry was nervous. He didn't quite know what to expect; Snape had been an asshole the previous year, but now that he had repaid his debt, he wasn't as bad, if not downright civil to Harry. However, from what a short encounter in a hallway on the sixth floor had told them, he still despised Blaise.
Why?
Neither of them had any idea. Knowing Snape, however, it might have been something as petty as a dropped coin on his shoe when neither knew each other.
As for Draco, it was needless to day he was quite elated, his grin even bigger and more victorious as he chewed on a handful of Bertie bott's beans… forgetting that taking more than one at a time is a very risky thing.
At 8:50, the group decided to leave to their doom, bidding a final goodbye to Ginny and her dorm mates, who were getting ready for Defense Against the Dark Arts – disdainfully nicknamed, by most of the Slytherin house, as "Protection against Really Annoying Tarts", or PRAT for short. Ignoring the sad remains of diversely flavored beans on the floor, one of which was claimed of being dragon vomit – let's not ask how our Dear Draco knew such a thing for our own safety – Harry led the rest of the Slytherin second years down in the Dungeons.
~~~
[Excerpt from Harry Potter's Diary, September 7, 1992]
I admit I was nervous. I mean, sure, Snape didn't have a life debt on me anymore, but come on, a whole year of being his personal verbal punching bag doesn't go away easy. Especially with someone who's got wall-breaking verbal punches like he does.
But that wasn't the only reason. As always, our Potion class was shared with the Gryffindors – I swear, that's a recipe for a potion of disaster. Meaning, Ron would be there.
As much as Blaise and I tried – not Draco, since he doesn't want anything to do with Gryffs except for Hermione (Whom, he claims, is the only one cleaver enough to be worthy of his attention) – we still haven't managed to talk to him alone. Either he runs off, or he's with the other Gryffindors, or with his brothers – which is worse.
We don't really know how he feels about the whole Ginny mess, yet. And if there's one thing I don't like, it's not knowing.
We got there just in time, but Snape didn't bat an eyebrow, only gave Blaise a tongue-lash about taking too much time counting the stones on the ground along the way and too little walking to his class. I was tempted to mention that Draco and I came at the same time, but then thought better.
Unlisted Slytherin rule: Luck is like a big, red button written "Boom" on it. Pressing it is to be considered reckless.
He then started off his class as usual; introduced the potion – a brew made to turn someone's eyes green (which would be useless to me), insulted Longbottom, wrote down the ingredients, insulted the Gryffindors in general, ordered us to get working, all the while glaring at the crimson half of the class.
By crimson, I really mean it, they were boiling red in anger, by now. I'm starting to see why Draco likes this class so much. When Snape isn't aiming them at me, his taunts are a work of art.
It was a rather easy potion, but it didn't stop Longbottom from messing up; his cauldron started boiling with rainbow-colored smoke and Snape had to turn the fire off and dump the potion in one of the taps (which kept making these odd detonations until the end of the class).
As usual, Ron and Hermione were sitting together, at the far back table. I decided to take action. It was now or never.
~~~
Harry silently picked up the parchment he had written the recipe on and delicately tore a part off. Picking his quill up, he dipped it and, making sure not to drop a drip, wrote down:
"Ron,
Meet me after class
~Harry"
Then, with as much precision as he could, he threw it directly as the tall Weasley boy, who looked quite startled to receive a ball of paper on the side of his head.
"Nice aim." Draco whispered, giving him a thumbs up. Harry shushed him quickly.
Draco's comment suddenly made him aware of the rest of the class – most of the Slytherins had seen him and were silently cheering him on. Millicent was even offering him a bigger piece of parchment to throw. Sitting at his desk in front of the class, Snape was giving him a disapproving glance.
Which had the firepower of a shotgun at point-blank range.
Remembering how Snape had comforted Ginny before and hoping he would understand, Harry mouthed the Weasley girl's name to him.
With a somber nod, Professor Snape dropped the matter.
Harry gave a look at Ron, who had just finished reading the small message. To his surprise, however, the red-head took the message in both hands and tore it apart, glaring at him.
"Why do I get the feeling Ron's not too happy with you?" Blaise asked.
Harry could only nod in response, wondering what he had done.
The bell rang and Harry had still not found an answer. Looking at Ron, he saw the tall boy throw his things into his bag and quickly stride out in front of everyone else.
He gave a look at Blaise, who returned it and nodded. "Let's go catch him."
Ron was rather easy to find. Five and a half feet tall with red hair, he wasn't exactly the most unnoticeable person in school. Catching up to him, however, proved to be more of a challenge, as his strides were quite longer than Harry and Blaise's. That and, upon finding he was being followed, he picked up the pace an burst into a run.
The crowd was, fortunately, very thin. A bunch of third years were getting ready for their class and politely scampered out of their way. More than once, Harry was thankful for the Weasley red hair; losing him was all that harder.
"Ronald Weasley, you stop right here or I'll curse you!!" Blaise snapped in anger, panting.
They finally caught up with him when, out of breath, the boy stopped and stood his ground, few halls away from Snape's classroom. Oddly enough, probably without thinking it, Ron had headed back in a nearly full circle.
"F…Fina…Finally… got you." Blaise panted, wand in hand.
"Y… You didn't have t… run…" Harry panted in turn.
"Why'dja… want ta… talk to me… so bad… anyway?" The boy said, before swallowing and catching his breath.
"About Ginny," Harry replied. "and if you feel the same way as Percy."
"…why should you care?! It's all your fault to begin with!" Ron replied with a sneer. "You two are the ones who corrupted her!"
"You know what? I really love how you make being in Slytherin look like some kind of sin." Blaise sighed sarcastically.
"Just… leave me alone, I don't want to talk to you… or her." Ron snapped.
Harry didn't answer as the taller boy turned around and walked away, climbing up the stairs. Blaise made a move to stop him, but Harry lifted his arm and blocked her way.
"Why are you stopping me?" Blaise hissed, her wand whipping inches from Harry's ear with a fizzy magical sound.
"There's hope yet." Harry said with a smile. "He doesn't know what to think. And he's trying to figure it out. Let's hope he doesn't take a page out of Percy's book."
"For his sake." Blaise added.
"Never thought otherwise." Harry agreed.
The next lesson was easily the toughest one they had got so far. Lockhart had been seen not too far from the greenhouses just before class started. And Sprout had been in a suspiciously lousy mood.
It seemed that Gilderoy 'Legally blonde' Lockhart's addition to the professors wasn't welcome by the teachers either.
'Just what was Dumbledore thinking?!' Harry wondered for the fifteenth million time.
Taking care of the mandrakes wasn't as bad as the previous times. They simply had to pour some water on them and make sure their leaves weren't folding. The lesson ended quickly enough, with Sprout asking them to write down an essay on possible uses of Mandrake leaves.
Harry was willing to bet Hermione could have written that essay down from memory. Unfortunately, he didn't have that much luck and was forced to dig in the library, which he did just after supper, the same day.
'Nasty plants for everyday use, Man-eating plants and how to care for them…' Harry mentally read the titles of the books. 'Heh, like anyone would want to take care of a man-eating plant… except maybe Hagrid.'
Thinking about Hagrid, Harry hadn't seen the large man once since the start of the year, since that small glimpse at the Hogsmeade station. As unpopular as the giant man was among the Slytherins – who didn't like his rugged and poor appearance – Harry had to admit he missed the gigantic man.
'Back to the books, Harry! You'll talk to Hagrid later.' He scolded himself.
Hearing whispering voices in the library wasn't an uncommon occurrence, though some people tended to hear more of them than others. Usually, Harry would eavesdrop on the students to see if they were talking about anything interesting. Usually, that didn't bring up anything.
Keyword here, usually.
"…not their fault, Ron!"
"Right, 'mione. Right. And which Slytherins came and fed all kinds of stories to Ginny? Those two. Who was she with during the train ride? Those two—"
"All of us, Ron. She was with all of us. Remember?"
"Yeah, well, she was closer to those Slytherins. And Malfoy."
"Draco was sitting beside me, Ronald Weasley! Stop being a prat!"
"Draco, is it?" Ron hissed angrily. "Getting friendly with the enemy, are you?"
"En—Ron, what on earth?!"
Ron didn't answer. Harry clenched his fists angrily.
"Look. Ok, so you're pig-headed about this. I don't care of you don't want to talk to Harry and Blaise anymore. You've never spoken civilly to or about Draco once in your life, so I won't ask miracles. But at least talk to Ginny." Hermione said.
Again, Ron didn't answer. Harry heard Hermione growl in anger.
"Ronald Weasley, you'd better go talk to Ginny or—"
"Or what?!" Ron replied angrily, forgetting all about hushing his voice. Harry heard Pince walk toward them. "I'm not going to talk to her! She's shaming our family!"
Harry heard Hermione gasp in surprise and anger, followed by a resounding slap that must have echoed everywhere in the library.
'Ouch.' The black-haired boy thought.
"I'll see you later." The girl coldly hissed, walking away at a fast pace, carrying a handful of books.
"H…Hermione?"
And Pince arrived to kick Weasley out of the library.
Few minutes later, Harry came out of the same doors, carrying a book in his hands and a lot to think about in his head.
~~~
[Excerpt from Harry Potter's Diary, September 8, 1992]
Man, I'm really using this thing up… well, guess what. Another thing happened. Flint managed to book up the quidditch pitch for our team for every Tuesday and Thursday, and the entire week end. All of these in the afternoon. Funnily enough, the Gryffindors have to get up extra-early in the morning because Wood starts practices at five. Even on weekdays. That sure makes me glad I'm not one of them!
I think he thinks that if he's making them work from the break of dawn, they'll get better. The rest of the team agrees with me; they can only get worse, overworking themselves like that.
-not that we'll help them, of course. Let's leave them to their slavedriver, while we work out after school's over, so our grades don't lower and we can practice with more attention.
Well, back to the point. We had Quidditch practice today. Draco's first. He did good, I must admit. Oh, sure, Flint chewed him up because he wasn't passing properly, but give him a break, it's his first time playing in a team.
Besides, Flint chewed everyone up. Even me.
Why me? Because I wasn't using the Nimbus 2001s. I told Flint I had tried them out, but they didn't have good enough cornering – which is true, thank Draco for giving me the idea – but the real reason is that I'm not a beggar, at least not enough to use Mr Malfoy's brooms.
I don't like him. Not one bit. And I get the feeling Draco doesn't either, outside of the pride that having a high-ranking, powerful father gives him. And the Malfoy fortune.
Well, back to what happened. Everything was going as usual. I had just released the snitch for the second time when a saw some kind of flash…
~~~
Harry's head whipped around, his eyes searching the air between him and the empty stands.
"That's odd, I could have sworn…"
A sharp whizzing was all the warning he had, but it was all it took for Harry to quickly duck for cover just a Bludger nearly hit him in the face.
"Oi, Derrick! Watch it!" He yelled.
"Sorry, I'll aim better next time!" The boy retorted, catching up to the Bludger and sending it flying at Draco, who barely managed to veer out of it's path, causing him to lose the quaffle and attract Flint's anger.
'Oh, that's right…' Harry remembered. 'The beaters aren't defending us…'
That was another one of Filch's brilliant training ideas. Since the Beaters couldn't be everywhere, Flint wanted everyone to be able to easily dodge whatever Bludger was sent at them. And so, the beaters had for mission to knock them out of the sky.
Another glint caught his attention and caused his head to whip in the same direction as before.
"…something's up…" He grumbled, flying closer.
Another flash came. This time, Harry saw it clearly.
"Bole!!" Harry called for the closest beater, who turned toward him while dribbling a Bludger with his bat, apparently choosing his next target.
"What's up?" He asked. "You want to be shot?"
'Hell no!' He thought vehemently. "We've got a spy, over there!" He said, pointing at the location of the flashes. Another one came, giving Bole a precise target.
And the Bludger was sent flying.
~~~
[Excerpt from Harry Potter's Diary, September 8, 1992]
It turned out that it wasn't really a spy. More like a groupie of mine. His name's Colin Creevey, Hufflepuff first year. A real fan of mine. Unfortunately. The guy is more annoying that a mosquito-infested swamp in a neighbor's backyard. (If it's in yours, at least you can dry it up and get rid of it.) He acts like a talking shadow whenever he finds me and he's harder to get rid of that a roll of two-sided duct tape.
Bole gave him a black eye with the budger and nearly another one with his bat before he noticed that brat was unconscious. We brought him to the infirmary, saying that he had tried to fly on one of our specially made broom that knocked him off. Pomfrey didn't bat an eyelid – I think she's tired of trying to see through Slytherin plots.
[September 9, 1992]
I'm not feeling too well. Here's my day.
I thought it would be that last of him then, but noo. I saw him again. At the worst possible place. And first thing in the morning, too.
Who?
That talking tube of Creevey glue, what else?
~~~
Harry swallowed the bile that had massed in his throat. Lockhart's lesson had been especially disgusting today, if not for the reason that the evidently color-blind rejected drag queen had worn odd, pink and dark blue robes, then because of it's subject.
Harry would never be able to look at doxies without being traumatized. The way Lockhart had freed an infested village of those things was so…
…so…
…impossible and obviously a lie.
"At least, things can't get any worse." Harry grumbled.
"hhhyou know what hhhappened to the lassst guy who sssaid sssomething like ssshat?" Nemesis asked from under his sleeve. Draco and Blaise were arguing on which part of Lockhart's story was most unbelievable.
"What happened?"
"Harry!" A high-pitched voice came from the other end of the corridor, where the first year Hufflepuffs were coming. "There you are!"
"Ah…" Harry wittily quipped while Nemesis snickered.
"Sssomething like ssshat." The snake replied.
Small, with short brown hair and brown eyes, Colin Creevey was not impressive in any case. His camera hanging from his neck, miraculously intact after meeting a Bludger – it probably got magically repaired – and his grin was huge, as if Christmas had come early seventeen times in a row.
"Uh…" Harry mumbled as the boy ran up to him, his black eye still shining. He gave a look at the mass of Slytherins behind him and growled, getting angry.
'Stupid groupie, go away!'
"What'd you want?" He coldly asked.
Completely ignoring the coldness in Harry's voice through either strong will and intense bravery or, more simply, obliviousness, Creevey smiled.
"I wanted to tell you I'm sorry I went to the Quidditch pitch… I should have known your team wouldn't want me there, I'm a Hufflepuff after all… I told the hat I'd work hard to be the perfect Slytherin and it sent me there instead… it's not that bad, but the yellow and black colors are getting to me. Green and silver look so much cooler, but don't let the other Hufflepuffs hear I said that, I might get into trouble."
Harry blinked, trying to re-organize what the small boy had told him in less than five seconds. To his great horror, though, taking a deep breath didn't slow the younger boy down. Not one bit.
'…Let nobody give coffee to this Huffie…' Harry mentally pleaded to the heavens.
"I know you didn't mean to let your teammate send that metal ball at me… was it really a Bludger? Aren't you scared they might hurt you?"
'Noo, I'm just afraid they'll suddenly grow scissors and cut by hair off.'
"What's going on, here?" Lockhart asked, walking out of his classroom, still clad in that horrible two-color robe. Finding Harry 'talking' with Colin, who was holding on his camera, Lockhart smiled and sighed sadly.
"Oh, Harry, Harry… I should have known giving you a taste of the spotlight was a mistake…" Lockhart said, theatrically sighing, his hand cradling his forehead and temples, blocking his eyes in the process. Still, he smiled. "It's too early for you to give interviews yet, Harry… people will think you have a big head. Oh, I could slap myself. This is all my fault…"
And when Lockhart stared at where Harry had been, he found nothing but the ground.
"Harry? Where did you go?"
The common room was unusually noisy that day. Rumors about Lockhart and Harry had spread like wildfire. No one thought anything less of Harry – they all knew he couldn't stand Lockhart, like most of the Slytherins – though everyone shared a laugh, imagining Harry's face.
Sitting in the sofa closest to the fire, normally only used by seventh years, and flanked by Draco and Blaise, Harry was furious.
"Stupid Lockhart." Harry repeated for the thousandth time. "Stupid Creevey, stupid Hufflepuffs, stupid… everything!"
"I take it you've met Creevey?" Emma asked as she, Xu and Ginny walked up to them. "Ruddy bugger."
"Damn right he is." Harry growled.
"Count yourself lucky he's not in your year." Ginny said with a sigh. "He keeps asking me about you, how you're doing, how you walk, breathe, what you eat… I swear, he has no life, except for yours."
"Completely obsessed." Xu agreed. "Not start bother me yet, though."
"Bothering." Emma corrected.
Xu gave an annoyed growl and muttered something indecipherable in Mandarin. Harry chuckled.
"You're getting better." Ginny assured, patting her friend's back. "You'll get the hang of it in no time."
"I 'no I should have took lessons befole leavinn." The asian girl sighed, before turning to Ginny, puzzled. "Hang? How can get hanged language?"
"It's a figure of speech…" The red-head sighed.
"So, what did Creevey do?" Emma asked Harry. "Heard some rumors about it, but I'd rather hear from your mouth."
"He made Lockhart think Harry was having an interview in the middle of the hallway." Blaise replied for an embarrassed and beat red Harry.
"I wonder which one stupidest, sometimes…" Xu mused.
"Lockhart." Draco replied flatly. "At least Colin doesn't write 'schoolbooks'."
"Yet." Blaise declared ominously. "But I can see it now… his very first book: Hogwarts with Harry."
"Ugh, Blaise…" Harry groaned.
"And then, it's: Prancing with Potter."
"BLAISE!!" Both other Slytherins glared at the girl.
"Followed by Best friend with the Boy-who-—hmphh!!"
Mouth blocked by Draco, Blaise was unable to finish the third hypothetical best seller of Gilderoy Creevey.
"Blaise, do yourself a favor." Draco said. "Don't do that again."
"Not just yourself." Harry muttered, feeling sick at the thought of the books. "But for us all."
Author's notes: *THIS* Is the chapter that took me a month to write. *sighhh* Sorry again.
ANSWERS TO THE REVIEWERS' PET GERBIL'S GIRLFRIEND'S EVIL CLOCK-WORK RADIO
Aensland: Harry/Blaise, ne? Hmm… Well, even I don't know. It all depends on how the characters act. I don't have THAT much of a leash on them. Staying up all night to read my fic? I'm flattered, actually ^_-. Thanks for reviewing!
Simply Myself, A.K.A Ex-Angel-in-not-so-good-Disguise: ^_- It's rather hard to tell the gender of the authors through their writing – except that most Yaoi fics are written by girls, most Yuri by guys – No problem, but I write it up in my Bio that I'm a guy. *shrug* I guess some people just don't look there ^_-. 52 percent of the world are girls, maybe, but 80% of the FF community are girls. Hard truth ^_-.
Bringer of Light: *Eyes half-closed, mouth partially open, face laid down on a desk* Sleep! Sleep! Sleep! ^_-
Jordan: Every detail I write, I mean it. No, Harry didn't hear the "big snake" as you so crudely refer the almighty basilisk… *blink* *Reads the last line* *Grumbles about writing Kuno one too many times* 'course I'll keep wroking! ^_- Typo intentional.
Eriee: Thank you!
Flummox: Actually, I read it the first time. But I'm flattered you went through all that work just to get it to me ^_-. *Blink* Oh geez, sorry 'bout making you want to read all of Lockhart's work… hope it passes ^_-. Giant paintbrush, eh? Guess I'll have to look at the movie again. So you liked the acronym, ne? At first, I wanted to write RETARDS, but I couldn't find words to go with it ^_-. WART stuck. *Smirk* If the mention of Jusenkyo sends ya like that, then I wonder what you'll do at that episode… *smirk* Himitsu da yo! *smirk* Oh, you say you sound like Kuno, fair foxy one? Halas, I cannot decide… the beauteous Morticia V also holds half of my heart… I shall date them both!! *BLINK* Oh god… I think I gotta drop a bit on my Ranma fic… That was scary…
I think the answer is long enough… don't you? *blink* Probably not.
VMorticia: Yeah, yeah… can it with the whips, will ya? ^_-
Kathleen: No, not a crossover. It wouldn't fit my plans anyway. The point is, I am an hopelessly obsessed Otaku. Of every anime I've watched, there's only three I can't stand: Pokemon, Sailor Moon and Bayblades. (Although some SM crossovers are good) Expect Random Anime Cameos to appear ^_-. Brownie points if you can spot them ^_-.
BlackHEART Sayoran: There. Wrote it correctly this time ^_-. It will get darker. Especially in the second ark of the story, after Christmas. It'll be quite the roller coaster. About the spiders, I feel exactly the same way. Only we just moved into an old house in dire need of renovations and I practically end up squashing at least two of the disgusting creatures each day. *Sigh* Well, I'll try to make it supreme, no promises. I'll try hard!! Honest!
Well, I think that's enough winking for now. -_- Later!
*BLINK* hey, where did Shireen McLean go? Makes a while I haven't heard from her…
Winks In the answers: 13 Yay, lucky number ^_-
Make that 14 awww…
Anyways. Review!
