The Snake-who-lived
"Oh Potter, you rotter, oh what
have you done?
You're killing off students; you think its good fun -"
Peeves, Harry Potter et la Chambre des Secrets, page 217, (Taken from VMorticia's Draco Malfoy's POV of Chamber of secrets)
Chapter 12: Ever seen a stoned ghost?
Harry Potter was, once again, not happy. This year had definitely not began like he wanted it, nor was it progressing at his wishes. In fact, it was all the opposite. What he wanted was a quiet, eventless year where he would be able to be a normal, twelve years old child. What he got was a crazy year with people being randomly attacked and petrified, a Weasley landing in Slytherin, a Quidditch captain that apparently decided to kill off his team so they could play without distractions such as breathing, and where he learned he had a rare gift that all other gifted turned to the dark side.
Said revelation caused quite an uproar, the morning after the duel club flop. The news had traveled everywhere, which was a surprisingly fast process in Hogwarts, and soon, Harry couldn't walk through the halls without being stared at warily, like he was some kind of evil, brain sucking alien.
His friends and Ginny's stayed loyal to him, not believing the rumors about his being the heir of Slytherin. Blaise, especially, was quite… physical, in her defense of Harry.
At least, until McGonagall removed 10 points because she defended his honor by slapping a third year Gryffindor silly. And Harry protested that it was all right and it didn't bother him.
Cough, cough.
~~~~~~
Extract from Harry Potter's diary, 18/12/92
I'll never understand the way the Wizarding world works. Or its people. I mean… Come on, it's because of me that we're in peace, now. If Voldemort hadn't attacked me and blasted himself, we'd still be in the middle of a war. And who was it who prevented Quirrell from bringing Him back last year? Me, with some help from my friends and Professor Snape.
But now, it looks like none of this matters now, just because I can talk to snakes. What's so bad about it, anyway?! So what, it's a dark gift, I never asked to get it. Besides, even a gift like that can be used for good. I saved that Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Fletchley, didn't I?
Oh, no. The rumors say the boy-who-lived-to-talk-to-snakes asked that stupid snake to attack him, so that has to be the truth. Yipee. It's so stupid… almost like they'd rather believe the juiciest story instead of the truth. What's bad is that the rumors say I'm the heir of Slytherin, and it's me who's been attacking people. Meanwhile, the real heir can go about and kill people and put them on my back without anyone noticing, except pointing more fingers at me.
I hate being famous.
What's worst – yes, there's worse – is that Nemesis decided he didn't need to hide. Never mind that Snakes aren't allowed pets, here. He just followed me down in the common room and scared everyone out of their minds. I tried to tell him to go back up, but he just wouldn't listen. Poor Ginny was terrified, she turned white as a sheet and ran off. Emma had to fetch her in a haunted girls' bathroom.
She's been writing in her diary a lot, lately. Ginny, I mean. As far as I know, Emma doesn't keep one, and if Xu does, I wouldn't be able to read it anyway. I think this whole heir of Slytherin thing is bad for those three. I mean, it's their first year and it should be something to remember in a good way. Not in a bad "people were being petrified everywhere and one of my friends was blamed" way.
Heh, going in circles, now. Time to go, Flitwick's waiting.
~~~
The Gryffindors are lucky bastards. There's a blizzard, outside, and they had Herbology. Their lesson is cancelled. Meanwhile, we Slytherins have to survive through the last PRAT class of term. Thank Merlin it's the last one, though.
Lockhart decided to dress himself as a Christmas tree this time. I mean… normally, red and green don't go together too well. The white helps mellow it out. But the robes he chose glow and switch the bloody colors, like a light strobe. And because of the blizzard outside, it was dark inside. It gave the effect of a boring, red, green and white rave room with no music. And let's not forget the paintings of Lockhart on the walls.
Not like we can. Bloody idiot moved the "Lockhart drawing himself times infinity" portrait just behind his desk, so if we dare look at him, we have to look at half a million of him.
Finally, the bell!!
Scramming out of here,
Harry Potter.
~~~~~~
Harry was walking outside of the school, in the snow, holding a plate of food in his hands, covered with an impervius charm. Fortunately, snow seemed to count as water and twisted out of the plate's way as it fell. He wished he could have cast one on himself, but the charm didn't have enough power to protect someone whole.
Why was he walking in the middle of the blizzard? Because he was going somewhere.
Where?
"Hagrid? Are you in there?"
Does that answer your question?
The door of the small wooden hut, whose chimney was spewing more smoke than a hundred smokers in a tight hole, opened and the gigantic bearded man, this time dressed in a dull red coat, looked down at him.
"Blimey, Harry! Yeh got any idea how cold it is, outside?! Com'in, heat yerself up…" He said. Harry wholeheartedly agreed.
Hagrid noticed the plate Harry was holding while closing the door. "brought yer own food, did yeh?"
"Erm…" Harry blinked, feeling a bit uneasy. In truth, while he wanted to speak to Hagrid, he had no wish to die from food poisoning, and he was hungry. Bringing his own food was the only choice. "Well, I didn't want to force you to cook for me." He lied smoothly.
"Neeh, 'tsok, Harry." Hagrid replied with a grin, sitting down on a chair. "I know my cookin' ain't nowhere as good as the elves'. So, why'd yeh come out here for?"
"I needed someone to talk to." He sighed while starting on his food. He noticed, with annoyance, that the Impervius spell hadn't stopped the cold air from freezing his lunch.
"That's what I figured." The large man nodded, poking the roaring fire with an iron poker. "'bout the rumors, eh?"
"You heard them, too?"
Hagrid snorted. "I ain't that far out of school, Harry."
"Guess not. The centaurs probably heard it, too." The boy grumbled.
"If they did, they dun' seem teh care." He replied with a large shrug. "'course, they dun' seem teh care 'bout anythin' that isn't happenin' at least on the moon, those things."
Harry nodded in agreement, remembering his own meeting with the stargazing creatures.
"It's just… It's like everything I did before… Voldemort and Quirrell… everything that shows I'm not on the dark side, it's like it doesn't matter anymore!"
"Yeh'll just have teh get used teh it." Hagrid sighed with uncharacteristic wisdom in his voice. "Sometimes, people'd rather blame the wrong culprit than no culprit 't all. Unfortunately, the wizardin' world ain't as nice teh it's criminals as the Muggle's."
"…did something like that happen to you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, blinking. This display of wisdom wasn't normal for him.
The giant man flinched, then suddenly looked at his watch and stood. "Well whaddya know, it's nearly time fer yer next class…" Harry almost protested at the hasty and obvious change of subject. "I'll get yeh back teh school… gotta talk teh Dumbledore anyway."
"About what?" Harry asked, curious, while putting on his robes.
"'nother of my roosters got killed." Hagrid growled. "Gotta ask permission from the professor teh cast a few protection spells."
As they walked through the snow, heading back to the school, with the wind too strong for him to ask the large man questions, Harry thought.
"A good wand… It was broken when you were expelled, though, wasn't it?"
'Hagrid was expelled, I know that.' He mused, trudging along in the trail left by the man's huge feet. 'But from what I understand, he didn't do whatever he got expelled for… He was put in the same situation as me, and came out expelled, probably for doing less than everyone else think I've done. Does that mean I'm going to be expelled, too, if people really become certain I'm the one who's doing all this?'
'They wouldn't act without proof, would they…?'
Soon, he found himself back behind the comforting and warm stone walls of the school. The crowd was mostly gone, proving that, at least, Hagrid's distraction had been for real. It really was nearly time for him to get to class. Hagrid parted ways with him at the entrance, waving a loud goodbye. With a sigh, Harry dug into his bag and fished out his timetable.
"Transfiguration." He read out loud and, with a sigh, headed for the nearest stairway.
That particular stairway ended up with him somehow climbing up to the dungeons. He had since long decided it was impossible to give any logical explanation on the staircases of Hogwarts; there was simply no reasoning the fact that, by climbing up thirteen steps, a secret passage took you from the second basement to the sixth floor on the other side of school. Like most things in the magical world, such things defied logic with an untold panache.
"Hey, Potter!" A voice called after him.
Turning around, Harry spotted a handful of Hufflepuffs. For a moment, he wondered if Colin had found himself some groupie friends, but then he noticed a few things.
1: Colin was not there.
2: He knew them. They were in his year.
3: They all had their wands drawn, and none of them looked happy.
Carefully, Harry slipped his hand into his pocket and grabbed his own wand.
"What do you want?"
"We know you're after Justin." A well-built boy he recognized as Ernie Macmillan said. "You sent that snake on him and you'd have killed him if Professor Snape had not dispelled it."
"You're raving." Harry replied. "As I keep saying, I'm not the heir. Someone's trying to frame me."
He noticed, rather sadly, that should the argument become magical, he would not be able to dodge the blasts – the hallway was too thin, and there were too many of them.
"Right." A smaller, blonde girl called Hannah Abbot sniffed sarcastically. "Everything always happens to the great Harry Potter, after all."
"Enough talking, he's probably stalling to cast that petrification spell!" Ernie shouted, pointing his wand at Harry. "Petrificus Totalus!!"
"Protego!!" Harry quickly cast. He had only read of the spell before and never performed it. It was, therefore, not a surprise that the round shield surrounding him shattered after the spell had hit it. However, it did its job and sent the spell back at its sender, who barely avoided it. Another boy, who had been behind him, suddenly found himself on his back, unable to move.
"Rictusempera!" "Tarentallegra!" "Expelliarmus!"
Dodging the first two curses, Harry was unable to avoid the third and was sent flying, wand slipping out of his hand. The spell had been done poorly, however, as it didn't float back to the caster. It had, however, had enough strength to throw Harry against the wall, knocking his head on it and his breath out of his lungs.
Shaking his head to knock the stars out of his eyes, Harry looked up at his attackers, trying to find his wand at the same time.
"Looking for this?" Macmillan asked, grinning and holding Harry's wand.
Feeling a wave of despair, Harry quickly looked for a way out. A wall at the left. A long, straight hallway at the right. A wall behind. No possible way to escape. He was trapped.
"May I ask what you are all doing?" A voice asked from behind the Hufflepuffs.
Harry almost cheered. It was Professor Snape, heading toward them at a fast pace, wand drawn, cape billowing behind him.
"Er… Professor… we…" Hannah began to explain, obviously trying to find a good reason for them to be there.
"He's going to attack Justin!" Ernie suddenly shouted. "He bragged about it!"
"I did not!" Harry snapped back. "You gits ambushed me! Besides, I wouldn't brag alone, would I?"
"You bragged to us!" Another hufflepuff said.
"Oh, right," Harry said sarcastically. "Like I'd brag about attacking someone only to that person's friend. Besides, I am not the heir!"
"Anyhow," Professor Snape said loudly, taking the attention immediately in a practiced manner, "Casting spells in the hallways is not allowed. I remove fifty points from Hufflepuff, ten for each student, and a detention for each of you. Potter, in my office. The rest of you, why are you not in class?"
"P-Professor Lockhart let us out, sir…" Hannah Abbot stuttered.
Snape's lips thinned. Harry could guess he was holding back a mighty sneer.
"Then go back to his class. Rest assured, Professor Sprout will hear about this."
The five Hufflepuffs gulped audibly and left quickly for the upper floors, down the stairs Harry had walked out of.
It feels a bit weird writing that… oh whatever.
Silently, Harry followed the professor to the now nearly familiar office. He had been there five times in two years, now. Probably a record. The dreary room had not changed much, except that the candles had shrunk and the pile of essays and exams had done the exact opposite.
"Students are not the only ones who are glad of the arrival of Christmas vacations." Snape noted, moving his chair so he could sit while looking at Harry, without having a mountain of parchment in-between.
"Harry Potter." He began after a deep breath. "Once again, I find you in my office."
"You're the one who brought me here, sir." Harry quipped politely.
The teacher slowly shook his head. "Don't take that tone with me, Potter." He warned, frowning. Apparently, he was not in a good mood. "Would you mind explaining me why I nearly had an all out duel a few hallways from my office?"
Harry told him the truth, exactly what had happened. Professor Snape listened silently, head in his hands and elbows on his knees.
"Hmm." The teacher mused. "A bit more true to your character than their story. Yes, I believe it was indeed a situation of self-defense. Which brings me to my point."
Leaning further forward, the teacher gazed directly into Harry's eyes.
"Tread lightly, Potter. You probably know it very well, unless you have inherited your father's daftness, which I doubt, that you have many enemies outside these walls. Enemies who would not hesitate to strike you down now, when you are weak and vulnerable. Should you be expelled – and even I do not have power over the headmaster's or the school council's decisions – you will be at their tender mercies. And note that, being heartless, sadistic serial murderers and servants of the dark lord, their so-called tender mercies are about as soft as a brick wall."
"I understand, sir." Harry nodded.
"From now on," Professor Snape continued, "You should never walk about alone. If this experience is proof of anything, it means that things are rapidly taking a turn for the worst."
Nodding again, Harry agreed wholeheartedly. They were, indeed.
"Also, I believe it is time you seriously learn to protect yourself. Miss Zabini, I have noticed, seems to have few notions of dueling. And if my memory serves me correctly," At this, the teacher sneered angrily, "her mother, as well. You should ask for their help."
"Yes sir." He nodded.
"Dismissed, then." He said, waving vaguely in the door's direction.
Harry got up and turned around, spotting Professor's Snape's graduation picture, hanging on the wall. It quickly reminded him of something.
"Sir…" Harry began, turning around again to face his teacher, who looked up from the papers he had returned to. "I've been wondering… you were at Hogwarts at the same time as my father, right?"
"Most to my displeasure." The teacher acquiesced. "And?"
"…did you know my mom, too?"
The teacher did not answer for at least half a minute, simply staring directly in Harry's eyes. Feeling increasingly uneasy, Harry couldn't help fidgeting.
"F-Forget I asked… if it's a sensitive subject, I…" He began, but Snape suddenly got up and walked toward his bedstand, picking the only picture there. Slowly, he walked back to Harry and put the picture in his hands.
It was one of a rather beautiful red-haired woman dressed in a black robe bearing the Slytherin crest and head girl badge, smiling and waving. But what struck Harry the most were her eyes.
They were his. Or were identical to his.
"Lily Evans Potter." Professor Snape said, sitting back down on his chair, letting Harry stare at the picture in his hands. "If there is one witch about whom many things could be said, it was her."
Harry said no comment, staring at the picture.
"She was simply the most amazing witch I have ever had the pleasure to meet. Oh, certainly, she caught the eye… quite pretty, indeed. Add to it incredible power over pretty much all of the school and influence over most students and teachers, she was certainly one you did not want to cross."
"Why?" Harry wondered.
"During her first two years, she was virtually unknown. Always quiet, staying silently in the background. She was a muggle-born, in Slytherin, in a time of war and incertitude. As you can guess, it did not make for a pretty picture. Often, she was the underdog, never taking the good end of anything."
"Then, in her third year, everything about her changed. She and three other witches who were two years younger than her, started to quickly gain power, while, in Gryffindor, four boys did the exact same thing. They were known, respectively, as the Raiders and the Marauders. Quite honestly, I believe their names should have been reversed."
"Your father was one of the Marauders." Ignoring Harry's look of surprise, he continued. "The ringleader, in fact. Both groups were strong and admired, causing trouble for anyone who got on their bad side, which included each other. But while the Marauders preferred explosive and dangerous pranks worthy of nothing more but a daredevil, the Raiders acted in more subtle, but just as destructive ways."
"Your mother was the craftiest, most cunning woman I have ever had the chance to meet. The students and teachers who got on her bad side did not have a good time, but not once did her revenges pointed at her or her friends… well, except for Lucia, but she actually enjoyed getting into trouble. And Professor Dumbledore just turned a blind eye and a deaf ear on them." The teacher gave a small chuckle. "The result was quite obvious. Nobody crossed her. And her friends were just as scary, if not more. They were a close-knitted group, as well. They would have put their lives in the hands of each other in a heartbeat. Two of them… well, that's another story."
Harry noticed there was a small hesitation in his voice, as if he was… embarrassed… by what he had been about to say.
'Maybe he used to fancy one of them…' He supposed.
Taking a deep breath, the teacher continued, perfectly aware that Harry was hooked on his every word. This was more than he had ever heard about his parents.
"As I said before, she was very charming and cunning, yet she had a good heart. Oh, she was not universally liked. On the contrary; she was, after all, a muggle-born in Slytherin, as I said before. Just that fact forced her to be strong. As such, she did not tolerate anyone attacking someone younger or weaker than themselves."
Harry blinked. His mother had been a Slytherin? Uh, ho… this didn't sound too good. Wait… Evans?
Lily Orchiddea Evans
Slytherin
72-79
"Heh, finally got a hand over the Marau-—what? James is head boy?! How? Why? How?"
…then… the head girl at that time… was his mother…?
"Potter… he was practically at her feet. Of course, she wanted nothing to do with him, since he was too arrogant and hot-headed, two qualities she despised. Add to it his show off of a friend, Black, and you ended up with one mighty bunch of spotlight-huggers. No. She hated him. Them."
"Then… um…" Harry hesitated on how to word his question, but the teacher asked for him:
"Why do you exist, then?" At his nod, Professor Snape gave a snort. "As arrogant and blunt as he was, he was, also, very brave. Her actions all over school had attracted the attention of the dark lord, who wanted her intelligence and influence for his, so he could perhaps attack Dumbledore on his blind side. His students have always been a bit of a weakness, a blind side that the dark lord thought he could use. Your father, with some assistance, rescued her. The respect he gained eventually grew into love, and eventually into a certain black-haired boy standing before me."
"Was she a Parselmouth?" He asked.
"Oh, no she wasn't. She had an intense dislike for snakes… nearing phobia, in fact. It was one of her few failings that were successfully exploited by the marauders. Believe me; you did not want to be one of them when she was returned to normal. They were still limping for a full week afterwards, the lot of them." The satisfied smirk on the teacher's face proved that this memory was one he relished.
"What did they do?" Harry asked, wondering what would be bad enough to attract his mother's wrath that badly.
"Are you aware of the Greek legend of the medusa?"
"The woman with the snake-hair? What's that got to do with… oh." Harry blanched at the mental picture, while the woman in real picture in his hands scowled and shuddered in apparent disgust. Mentally, though, he wondered: 'Then how did I become a Parselmouth? Was dad one?'
"Now, I believe your friends might—" He was interrupted when the door burst open and Draco Malfoy ran in, out of breath.
"Mister Malfoy, what in the w—"
"New attack… double petr… petrification…" He gasped between heavy breaths.
"Who?" Snape asked, suddenly very cold.
Harry blinked. Just a few seconds ago, he could have easily called Professor Snape's behavior as 'human'. Now, though, it was as if he had put on a mask. There was no visible trace whatsoever of the person Harry had talked to.
"…Finch-Fletchley…" He gasped first, taking a deeper breath to calm himself down while Harry stared, horrified. Exactly who the Hufflepuffs thought he was going to attack.
"You said double… who else?" Professor Snape asked, starting to walk forward, picking the picture of Lily from Harry's hands.
"The Bloody… Bloody Baron, sir." Draco Malfoy finished, looking up at the startled faces of Harry and Snape.
"A…ghost?" Professor Snape whispered, blinking.
Author's notes:
About the wait: Chapter 14 is monster. A huge, enormous, extremely fun-to-write monster, that is. Plus, I made a couple of corrections here and on the next chapter. Plot elements I want to keep hidden for later :P
The original attack, in the book, took place in the second period, when Harry had Herbology and was cancelled because of the blizzard. Oddly enough, Ginny was supposed to have class, at that time. Perhaps Tom made her fake to be sick to get out of class… Or perhaps it's another JK mistake. *shrug* no matter, we still love you! ^_-
Back to my point. The time is different because Ginny's timetable is different as well. Besides, framing him would be awfully difficult, if he had been in class all that time, eh?
Why the baron? Hehe. That's a secret.
ANSWERS TO THE MENTALLY CHALLENGED THREE-EYED CANARIS OF THE REVIEWERS:
Pegeuk: Heh, that's a secret. ^_- I like your signature, btw ^_-
Darak: Well, like Fudge says in book 5, Harry is the only wizard of the neighborhood. They detected magic, so, therefore, it's Harry who did it, in their mind. Hence why Fred and George can still experiment with their WWWs, the fact that the Burrow is a magical house must throw their sensors out. And as I said, Harry had no idea his mother was a Slytherin.
Mystic10: Ce ki me fait le plus c****, c'est que j'ai un e****e de bon début pour le livre 3… aargh!! J'ai hâte de l'écrire! ^_^
Jordan: Up! Now! Here you go! ^_-
Ran Hoshino: Hehe, prepare for a treat soon, then ^_-
Shadow Adams: Actually, what I have planned for her is somewhat more interesting than Lily having Slytherin blood ^_-. Well, look above, do you think he will? ^_-
TJ: Thanks, I aim to surprise, too ^_-.
RaistlinofMetallica: Yeah, well, my guess is that either The gift skips many generations, or it is only given to the first born child or something. Probably a mix of both, since there is only one Heir of Slytherin.
Simply Myself: Thank you again for the Mandarin. Thank you, arigato gozaimasu, merci beaucoup!! Ok, off to your review. I won't ask about the part with Scott and his evil petting zoo. Thanks, I like Nemesis too ^_^, and yes, it IS rather clever - and polite. So many questions, so many I won't answer here ^_-
Dragonsprincess: Actually, I'm learning Japanese by myself, like I learned English. *shrug* I don't really believe in the way school teaches languages. Hehe, sore wa himitsu desu. As for Nemesis, more information on him will be released later. If you chop me up and put me in a potion, then how am I going to write? ^_-
Natara: Well, I liked writing it, so that's good, eh? I love it when the characters – especially Draco and Blaise – act like that. It's funny. And here, *Hands you a bottle of Box-Be-"Buh-Bye"*. It should get rid of it.
Flummox: Well, the book will make a few more appearances as the year goes along… Expect more of it ^_-. I'm surprised though, nobody commented on that, like a snake understanding human tongue is perfectly normal. *shrug* Fanon…
BF110C4: Of course I'm right. I'm always right. ^_-
VMorticia: O_o! Someone copy-pasted the whole chapter for you to read in a review?! LOL!!
Mella deRanged: *blink* Ur a fast one, you know that? Sending me a review on the first ten minutes after I update… quick!
Blackheart Syaoran: Wrong answer, but I'm not susprised. More on this later, although someone with lots of time to lose, notes on everything I've released so far and a great sense of deduction can make a small guess at something in this Fanon's past. Including the Crimson Butcher thing. It won't actually get dark until in about three or four chapters. Until then, get ready for some heavy laughs.
