A/N: Chapter eight is here! Thank you as always for reading and for your reviews. The drama has returned, and if you've recently reread Chamber of Secrets, you'll know that it's only about to increase very (very) soon...


Chapter Eight: Serpensortia

"Serpensortia," Draco whispered, pointing his wand at the patch of grass between bushes beside the greenhouse. "Serpensortia!"

Nothing happened, but Draco knew he was getting closer. He could feel the magic pulsating beneath his fingertips, knew he was about to succeed, knew he was on the verge of-

"Serpensortia!" he tried once more. "Serpen-"

"What are you doing, Malfoy?"

Draco shot up to his feet, his heart racing. He grimaced as he saw it was Terence Higgs making his way over. "Nothing."

"Don't be stupid. Of course you're doing something." The Head Prefect paused. "Serpensortia, was it?"

"Maybe." Draco shrugged, knowing it was impossible to keep the truth from Higgs. "Yes. I don't quite have the hang of it yet, though."

"Don't you know it's against the rules to teach yourself spells without supervision?" Terence raised both his eyebrows, both aware Draco knew the answer to that question. "Professor Snape is fairly rigid about that one, isn't he? It's one of his major notes in his start of term speech."

Draco grimaced again, dreading Professor Snape's reaction when Higgs inevitably blabbed to him. He wasn't sure if it would warrant lines, or worse- neither option one Draco particularly relished. "You're not going to tell him, are you?"

"And why shouldn't I?" Terence folded his arms, eyebrows shooting up further. "Give me one good reason."

"Because..." Draco tried to think of something, then said, "Because you're a Slytherin. Slytherins don't rat out other Slytherins unless it's serious. This isn't serious. It's just a little spell."

Terence smirked, then let out a chuckle. "Malfoy, do you know why I'm such a pain when I see someone breaking the rules?" Before Draco could answer, he went on. "Because you're really not very subtle about it, especially the younger students. Take a look at the castle- no, right where I'm pointing."

Draco's gaze followed the direction of Terence's finger, up to the castle ahead. From their position, they were nearly concealed, but-

"That window, right there, just outside the library," Terence confirmed. "Perfect view to the side of this particular greenhouse. Now, because I was the one passing by, all you're getting is an overbearing prefect giving you a lecture and a warning for next time. But imagine if it was Professor Snape who'd looked out that window?"

Draco winced. It was true, Snape didn't look kindly on anyone privately attempting spells they weren't familiar with. He imagined him rounding the corner of the greenhouse instead, and for once was grateful to be facing down Terence Higgs instead.

"You're a Slytherin, aren't you?" Terence asked, his smirk deepening. "Cunning, resourceful? Use your head a bit more. It'll save you more than a few trips to Snape's study."

With that, he was off the way he'd come, though he jerked his head in a funny way as he walked, toward a patch of trees near the lake. A patch of trees, Draco quickly discovered, was fully isolated from the windows of the castle, and perfectly suited for trying out illicit spells.


"You, leading a dueling club?" Chastity laughed as she stretched out comfortably beside Severus in bed. "I can hardly imagine it. You'll hex half the children before the night is over."

"I don't want to do it," Severus said, not for the first time. "But with only Gilderoy running things, and no one else volunteering..."

Chastity laughed again. "No, I take it back- you won't hex the children, you'll hex him before the night is over."

"I'm glad you find this amusing," Severus said, but he couldn't help but slightly enjoy the teasing, something Chastity unfortunately knew as well. "Are you quite finished?"

"Hardly," she said with a terrible little grin, and began listing all the hexes she imagined he would end up using on poor Gilderoy and the various nearby students.

Their relationship was simple, practical, and had no strings attached. She was free to see others, just as Severus was. There were no declarations of love, no silly or over-the-top displays of affection. They simply got along, made each other laugh, and partook in other activities, as well.

"It's going to be a disaster," Severus predicted, then pulled her close to him, all thoughts of Gilderoy Lockhart and the students of Hogwarts leaving his mind.


The announcement of a dueling club plunged the house of Slytherin into a near-frenzy of anticipation. Even the second year, who all-too-well remembered the disastrous end to their one and only attempt at dueling, was drawn into the excitement.

"We've learned more spells than we knew then," Greg said excitedly as he sat on the couch and threw repeated glances at the notice pinned to the announcement board, as though he expected it to change while he wasn't looking. "Last time all we could manage was to tickle one another. This time will be a real duel."

"A real duel?" Draco shook his head. "That's not happening, not if the teachers are running things. They'll limit us to boring spells so no one is hurt. For all we know, we'll only be allowed to use tickling spells."

"Why have a dueling club if we don't learn to duel?" Vincent frowned, thinking this over. "Isn't the whole reason is to teach us how to do it properly?"

"Vincent's right." Greg nodded in agreement. "Dumbledore must want us to know how to fight the monster from the Chamber if we come face-to-face with it."

"Don't be stupid," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Dumbledore's not going to teach us how to fight, not for real. And if he did want the students to learn, he wouldn't include a bunch of former Death Eater's children."

"Not every Slytherin's parents were Death Eaters," Vincent pointed out.

"Try telling Dumbledore that," Draco said darkly, though he frowned slightly as he said it, remembering the way the man had been surprisingly gentle with him at the end of the previous term after the incident between his father, Professor Snape, and Quirrell. "I think the entire thing is just a distraction to make everyone feel safer. without actually doing anything."

"Really?" Greg asked.

Draco nodded. "Besides, for all our talk about there being a monster, we don't even know if there really is one. It might have been a student who carried out the attacks. Which just proves my point- why would Dumbledore risk teaching someone who might be murderous even more ways to hurt someone?"

"Do you think it's a student, then?" Harry, who'd been listening from a nearby armchair, asked.

Draco shrugged. "I have no idea. But if there is a monster in the castle, don't you think they'd have found it by now?" He lowered his voice. "My father doesn't say much, but I know the Board of Governors must be concerned. It's not something you can ignore, is it?"

"They didn't find a monster fifty years ago, the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened," Harry said, but he frowned, wondering if it had truly been a monster that time either. "Or did they? Come to think of it, did they ever catch who was behind the attacks all those years ago?"

"Yes, but I can't imagine it's the same person now. They wouldn't be here, would they?" Draco pursed his lips. "My father must know who it was. I'm going to try to get the information from him over Christmas."

"Are you going home for Christmas, then?" Vincent asked. "You said you weren't."

"I don't know." Draco didn't look at any of them. "Maybe. I haven't made up my mind yet."

"Tomorrow is the last day of classes before the end of term," Harry said. "Christmas is in a week. You'll have to decide soon."

Draco shrugged again, and it was clear that was the end of the conversation.


The Great Hall was packed; nearly the entire school had turned up. Harry positioned himself behind Millicent as she shoved her way through the crowd, creating a clear path all the way up to the golden stage erected against a wall.

"Who do you think will be teaching us?" Harry asked. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"He's too old," Millicent said, shaking her head. "He'd break his back if he fell off the stage."

"Would he?" Harry asked. The headmaster was old, but Harry had never thought of him as feeble. Still, it was hard to picture him jumping about and casting spells left and right.

Before Millicent could answer, however, a figure dressed in black strode onto the stage. Harry turned to Millicent, Millicent turned to him, and then, along with the rest of the Slytherins, they burst into applause. Professor Snape grimaced at them, but failed to dampen their moods. Harry grinned, thinking to himself that Snape leading the dueling club nearly made up for the fact that he was accompanied by Professor Lockhart.

"Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called out loudly, waving his arms and flashing his teeth at the assembled crowd. "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

"Isn't this exciting?" Hermione sidled through the crowd, next to Harry and Draco, Neville at her side. "I thought it might be Professor Flitwick leading things. Did you know he used to be a dueling champion?" Before anyone could answer, she continued on. "But Professors Lockhart and Snape are just as qualified, aren't they? I can't wait."

"Lockhart? Qualified?" Harry repeated, thinking of their classes with the man, most of which consisted of reenactments of the many impressive things he'd claimed to have done.

Hermione didn't seem to hear him, instead rambling excitedly to Draco how excited she was to be learning from two "equally matched" wizards.

"Has she hit her head recently?" Harry whispered to Neville, who cracked a small smile.

"She fancies Lockhart," Neville murmured, voice low. "All the Gryffindor girls do. Don't the Slytherin girls like him, too?"

Harry shrugged. Like many things that didn't directly affect him, he hadn't paid very much attention before now. He couldn't help admit, though, that as much as it was a house-wide activity to laugh at the blond-haired, white-toothed git behind his back, the second-year girls tended to gaze at him a bit more intently than their other professors.

"He's not even that handsome," Harry said in bewilderment. "Is he?"

"Don't be stupid, Potter," Millicent said, and Harry jumped, not knowing she was listening. "Lockhart's full of himself, and doesn't know up from down. But he is gorgeous. No brains, all beauty, you know?"

"Not you too," Harry protested, staring at the person he considered to be the most sensible in the entire second year. "Don't tell me you fancy him."

"So what if I do? He's a giant bell-end, but he's more than easy on the eyes." Millicent shrugged, then laughed at the expression on Harry's face. "You look like you're going to be sick."

Harry didn't have time to reply, Lockhart was already introducing his so-called "assistant," Professor Snape, who in turn had just cleared his throat loudly in Harry and Millicent's direction. They both quieted themselves, and watched as Lockhart began to speak about the first spell of the night, Expelliarmus.

"Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry," Lockhart said, clapping his hands together and beaming at the crowd. "You'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

Professor Snape's upper lip had begun to curl; Harry had seen that look on the housemaster's face many times before. It usually ended with the back of someone's head being cuffed, and Harry snorted as he imagined Snape doing just that to Lockhart in front of the entire school. Snape shot Harry another look, this one sharper than the one before, and Harry briefly regretted having followed Millicent all the way to the front of the stage where he was all-the-more noticeable.

The two professors took their positions, facing one another, then bowed. Harry could hear Hermione breathe in sharply as they drew their wands.

"This is going to be good," Millicent whispered to Harry.

"Expelliarmus!" both men cried, Snape just a moment sooner than Lockhart, the latter of whom was knocked off his feet, and thrown off the stage. He slammed into the wall behind him, sliding down to the floor in a surprised heap.

A few of the Slytherins, including Draco, burst into cheers; the rest knew better, though many were biting their lips to avoid doing the same. Snape shot a blink-and-you'll-miss-it murderous glare at the celebrating students and they reluctantly fell silent as Lockhart unsteadily rose to his feet.

"Well! There you have it," he said, carefully making his way back onstage. "Moving along..."

"Why do you think Professor Snape volunteered to do this?" Harry whispered to Millicent, waiting until Snape had turned his back in their direction. "He looks like he'd rather snog the Giant Squid than teach us how to duel."

"Probably so Lockhart doesn't accidentally blow up the Great Hall," Millicent said with a shrug. "Imagine if it were just him. There'd be a crater in the ground by the end of the night."

They were paired into doubles next, and instructed to attempt to disarm their opponent. Harry made to pair with Millicent, but Snape hopped down from the stage so suddenly Harry started.

"I don't think so," he said, a strange expression on his face. "Potter, face Longbottom. Bulstrode, Granger."

Snape and Lockhart continued moving through the crowd, and Harry saw that the former was going out of his way to ensure the pairs consisted of people from two different houses.

"Is he mad?" Harry asked. "The houses have been at one another's throats. It'll be a bloodbath."

This wasn't entire true; to put it more accurately, three houses had been at Slytherin's throat, but even that had been improving as of late. The attacks and whispers of the Chamber of Secrets still echoed through the corridors, but not the way they had the week after Fred Weasley had been Petrified. The younger years were slowly beginning to visit the other house's common rooms once more, and the Slytherin common room had occasional visitors from the rest of the school as well. It wasn't a frequent exchange, but it had never been, even before.

"He's testing us," Millicent said, a strange gleam appearing in her eye. "Not just us, but the rest of the school. He is mad, but brilliant, too."

"I don't understand," Harry said, but Hermione was nodding, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"Things have been better, haven't they?" she pointed out. "But it comes in waves. Everyone was getting along, then Mrs. Norris was attacked and everyone was suspicious of Slytherin. Then things loosened a bit, until Fred was attacked, and everyone was suspicious of Slytherin again. Then that loosened a bit..."

"So why pair us against one another?" Harry asked in bewilderment. "Does he want us to fight?"

He turned to Neville, who shrugged, and they faced one another, as did the rest of the school.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart cried out cheerfully, back on the stage. "And bow!"

Harry and Neville bowed to one another; out of the corner of his eye Harry could see other students barely inclining their heads as they stared at one another.

"Disarm only," Snape's voice cut through the silence. "If I see a single other spell used..."

He trailed off, but his message was clear.

"Right, then!" Lockhart said, oblivious to the tension in the room, despite it being thicker than perhaps even his skull. "One the count of three! One- two- three-"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, lifting his wand sharply, as did Neville. Harry was just a bit faster, and the blond boy shot backwards, his wand flying from his hand and shooting towards Harry.

"Nice try," Harry said, helping him up and offering him his wand back. "You nearly had me."

"No I didn't," Neville said, laughing despite himself. His cheeks turned red as he said, "I second guessed myself. I always do that."

"Well, you won't next time," Harry reassured him.

Around him, victorious students were slowly returning the wands they'd caught to their partners. Seamus Finnegan snatched his wand back from Draco with a muttered few words that turned the latter's expression dark. Draco hissed something back, and Seamus whirled around to face him. Harry instinctively took a step forward, then stopped. The two boys stared at one another, but nothing more was said.

"Excellent!" Lockhart said, clapping his hands together again. "Splendid work, everyone! Let's try again, then we'll swap partners!"

They faced one another again, and Harry disarmed Neville again, though Neville drew his wand more quickly this time. They were paired into new partners again, and again, and again. By the end of it, Harry had faced half the Gryffindor second year, along with a multitude of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and while it was awkward to face down more than one person who'd whispered behind his back in recent weeks, Harry had to admit that things went far more smoothly than he'd have imagined.

The first few face-offs were awkward, especially against people like Ernie Macmillan, who was still claiming various Slytherins were direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself, and had likely learned how to open the Chamber while infants. But it became quickly clear that no one was actually going to hurt one another, and in a strange way, there was almost something cathartic about blasting one another backwards.

For a while, Harry thought Hermione and Millicent were wrong, and that the only reason Snape had paired the houses against one another was to work out their aggression in a way that didn't involve blasting the hell out of one another behind the teachers' backs. But something strange began to happen the longer the night went on- the tension began to lessen.

Harry didn't notice it straight away. It wasn't until they'd been on the fifth round of mild stunning curses that Harry saw the tightness with which many of his surrounding schoolmates had been carrying themselves had loosened. It seemed that you could only hex one another so many times in a supervised setting before the entire thing began to seem a bit ridiculous. It even started becoming fun- and not just because the various houses were dueling one another, but in spite of it.

Then it happened.

Later, Harry thought to himself that it must have been Lockhart who'd been stupid enough to pair Marcus Flint and George Weasley together. The former knew he was leaving Hogwarts in a year and didn't give a damn what anyone thought of him, and the latter had been separated from his twin brother due to a supposed Slytherin monster for more than a month now. Harry didn't interact with George often, but whenever he saw him in the corridors or the Great Hall it struck him how profoundly lonely the fourth year seemed, even as he was constantly surrounded by a crowd of well-meaning friends.

As it turned out, it wasn't Lockhart who paired the two together, nor was it Snape. The two boys had both been paired with someone within their year, and as George shot a mild Stunning Spell at Lucian Bole, as instructed, he was jostled from behind by a stumbling Angelina Johnson. His arm jerked to the side and the spell shot off at an angle with more intensity than intended, only stopping when it hit Marcus in the back.

Marcus went tumbling forward, landing hard on his stomach, and as he whirled around he found himself facing George Weasley, whose wand was still aloft.

"Sor-" George started to say, but before he could finish the word Marcus shot a wordless, stronger Stunning Spell at George, sending him backwards with force. He fell to the ground, mouth agape, and, as everyone nearby began to cotton onto what was happening, Marcus raised his wand to fire again.

This was the point everything began to move very quickly. Terence Higgs rushed forward and pulled Marcus back, earning himself an elbow to the stomach, just as Percy Weasley grabbed his own brother, who'd risen to his feet and seemed ready to deck Marcus in the face. Snape was pushing his way through the crowd, which parted instantly to let him through.

"Let go of me, you sanctimonious prig," Marcus could be heard snarling to Terence, who was joined by several Slytherin prefects, all hissing at Marcus not to be an idiot and to calm down. "I'm not going to calm down! He attacked me! I'm going to hex his bloody head off-"

"It's not worth it," Percy was in the middle of telling George, who'd raised his wand in Marcus's direction, as Snape reached them. Turning to the Slytherin housemaster, Percy insisted, "Sir, please tell him it's not worth it-"

Snape ignored him, stepping between the two boys and motioning for everyone to step back. "Flint- Weasley- Lower your wands. Now."

Reluctantly, they did- except Marcus. He stood perfectly still, a sneer of defiance on his lips as he kept his wand fixed on George, who stared at him, hand twitching as he clearly fought the urge to hex him into oblivion.

"Flint," Snape all but hissed. Marcus just stared at him, his expression mixed with absolute fury and the faintest twinge of surprise that he was, in fact, doubling down.

The Great Hall was eerily silent as Snape stepped forward, placing himself between the two boys, so that Marcus Flint's wand was pointed at himself and no one else. He took another step forward, then another. Marcus's hand had begun to shake, and although he didn't lower his wand, he didn't fight back when Snape pulled it from his hand.

There was a long, terrible silence, during which nobody said a word, until finally Angelina Johnson wet her lips and stepped forward.

"It was me," she said, her voice practically a squeak, only audible to her immediate vicinity. "I'm sorry- I bumped into George and it made him misfire. It was an accident."

Snape looked at her, but didn't respond, his expression remaining ice cold as he inclined his head in a barely perceptible nod.

"Right- Right then!" Lockhart said from the stage, his eyes wide as he tried to take in what had just happened. "We appear to have had a spot of bother, but it all seems to have worked out! Moving along..."

"Perhaps we've had enough dueling for one night," Snape said, his voice as icy as his expression. He turned to Marcus and put a hand on his shoulder before murmuring something, his voice too low to be heard, but his intent clear. Marcus stared at him, then at George Weasley, then back at Snape. His own expression didn't change, and he shook his head, pulling himself free from Snape's grasp and pushing his way through the crowd toward the Entrance Hall.

With that, it became clear the Dueling Club had come to an end. Snape made to follow him, but he paused, instead turning back toward George Weasley and saying something quietly. Harry couldn't hear the words from his vantage point, and as he turned back to Neville and Hermione he said, "And things were going so well."

The students made their way toward the Entrance Hall uncomfortably, no one quite knowing what to say, the silence only broken when Reggie Derrick called out to George Weasley's retreating figure, "Oi! Weasley!"

George paused, turning around.

"Flint's a prick," Reggie said, pulling his hands from his pockets and shuffling from foot to foot. "And he's a prick to us, too. He doesn't speak for Slytherin."

The silence stretched on as George didn't reply, until Lucian Bole said, "We're sorry about your brother."

Finally, George nodded slowly. He turned to Terence, hesitated, then said, "Thanks for holding him back. Not that I couldn't have taken him on, but..."

Terence nodded as well, not saying a word but offering George a clumsy pat to the back as he passed.

Harry and Millicent walked into the Entrance Hall together, and as they did, Harry locked eyes with Ron, who shrugged awkwardly as they approached.

"Some dueling club," Millicent said, trying to lighten the mood. "I'd call it a success, wouldn't you?"

Ron stared at her, then let out a low chuckle that made its way to actual laughter. "Fantastic. Massive, rousing success."

"The greatest example of interhouse unity the school's ever seen."

"You could feel the love from here to London."

"They'll be talking about it for centuries."

As Ron and Millicent snorted and tried to one up one another's examples, Harry turned his head and saw Marcus shove aside a third year as he stormed toward the dungeons. Harry let out a noise of surprise as he was pushed to the side, a whirl of black fabric brushing past him. Harry, Millicent, and Ron stopped speaking as Snape stalked forward, reaching Marcus just as he reached the door to the staircase leading downstairs. Snape grabbed him roughly by the forearm before hauling him through, and everyone approaching paused for a moment to allow enough buffer time before heading down as well.


"Flint's an idiot," Theo said as he climbed into bed. "Snape's going to be in a foul mood for weeks because he made a tit of Slytherin in front of the entire school. We won't be able to get away with anything."

"We're never able to get away with anything," Blaise pointed out.

"Yeah, but we'll especially not be able to now."

"What was he thinking, attacking George Weasley?" Draco said, shaking his head. "He's practically the school saint since his brother was attacked."

"And you've never attacked a Weasley, slug-chucker?" Theo asked, cracking a grin.

"That was different," Draco said, face reddening. "I didn't know Snape could hear us. And I wouldn't be so stupid as to fight him in front of the entire school."

"He thought George attacked first, didn't he?" Vincent pointed out. "That's what Ellen Greybourne said."

"So?" Harry asked. "Since when has that mattered to Snape? Besides, it doesn't take an idiot to figure out it was an accident. If he'd just thought it over instead of firing a spell without giving himself any time to think it over first-"

"You sound like Snape," Draco said, snorting. "Though you are right."

"Hang on, did you say I'm right?" Harry turned to Draco. "Would you mind putting that in writing? Something this unusual needs to be commemorated."

"In your dreams, Potter." Draco couldn't help but smirk as he flopped onto his bed. "Snape's probably murdering him. I'm glad I didn't hex Finnegan."

"Yeah, I saw that," Harry said, pulling back his own covers and climbing beneath them. "What was that about?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Just some rubbish about Weasley's brother, and which one of us it was who Petrified him. Almost lost my temper, but..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. Harry imagined being hauled into Snape's study once in recent memory for hexing a Gryffindor was enough to make a memorable impression.

"I nearly shot a snake at him," Draco said, rolling onto his side. "I was this close to doing it, but... well, you know. Snape. Did I tell you I figured out the spell?"

Harry shook his head as Vincent and Greg perked up.

"You did? Why didn't you say so?" Vincent insisted as Greg nodded enthusiastically. "Show us!"

"Tomorrow," Draco said, though he seemed quite proud of himself. "It takes a few minutes to vanish, and the last thing we need is for Snape to turn up to lecture us about what happened. He won't be lenient, not after tonight."

"When is he ever lenient?" Theo asked, and the boys snorted as they settled down to at least pretend to go to sleep.


Tracey pulled her dressing gown closer as she made her way down the dungeon corridors. It was an unusually cold December, especially beneath the castle. Her dorm itself was wonderfully toasty, and she wished she was there right now instead of making her way to the toilet. She nearly rounded the corner but came to a stop and hurried back as she saw who was approaching.

"You don't need to walk me back to my dorm," Marcus Flint's voice echoed from ahead. "I'm not a first year. I'm not about to get lost."

"I'd advise you to mind your cheek," Professor Snape snarled. "Unless you want to find yourself in my study again for a second discussion mirroring the one we just had."

A long silence, then Professor Snape said, "I'm expecting an answer, Flint."

"An answer to what? You didn't ask a question." Marcus paused, then added a superfluous, "Sir."

The footsteps paused, and Tracey stood very still, pressing herself against the stone wall beside her.

"Flint, you are treading on dangerously thin ice." Snape's voice was so low that even Tracey shuddered, despite the words not being intended for herself. "You're extremely lucky you weren't caned for your actions tonight."

"So what if I am lucky? Go ahead and cane me, then." Marcus's voice was more direct than Tracey had ever heard it, and, she suspected, more direct than Professor Snape had ever heard it. "It won't make a difference. In less than a year I'll be done with Hogwarts. My father won't listen to me now- won't take me seriously when I tell him you don't really support the Dark Lord. Once I'm finished with school he'll have to listen to me."

"Flint," Snape said, a hint of pity mixed in with his steely tone. "Haven't you figured out by now your father will never listen to you?"

A long, terrible pause, then Snape spoke again. "I'd advise you to reconsider whatever it is you're about to say. You may be of age, but you are still a Hogwarts student under my care. And as cavalier as you are about the cane, you've experienced it once before. Do you really want to continue this false bravado and experience it again, Flint?"

Another pause, then Snape said, "I didn't think so."

"I don't know why you side with Dumbledore and his lot... sir," Marcus said, his tone more neutral but still far from respectful. "And you aren't going to win me over. I'm going to finish Hogwarts, and even if my father won't listen, the other parents will. They'll find out you aren't teaching us how to pretend to adapt to Dumbledore's world. They'll find out who you really are. And then what will you do?"

"Regardless of what you tell others, and regardless of whether they choose to believe you, I will do what I've always done," Snape said quietly. "Care for my Slytherins as though they were my own."

One last long pause, and then the footsteps started up again. Tracey hurried backwards, wincing at the noise her slippers made against the flagstone tiles. If she ran, they'd hear her in a heartbeat. If she moved slowly, they'd round the corner and spot her before she could get away. Taking a deep breath, she scurried backwards and yanked open the nearest door and hurled herself into a cupboard. She closed the door just in time and held her breath as the two sets of footsteps strode past. She stayed put for several more moments, just to be safe, then carefully pushed open the door and continued onward toward the toilets.


The snow that had begun the night before turned into a blizzard by the following day, blanketing the grounds in such a deep layer of snow the final Herbology lesson of the term was canceled. Harry momentarily brightened at this, imagining what he'd do with his free period, but Snape announced in the same breath that everyone would be revising in the library during their free period. All involuntary grumbling was immediately silenced by a sharp look; it seemed the prediction from the night before that Snape would be in a foul mood was an accurate one.

"It's the last day of term," Draco muttered as they filed into the library later that morning. "Why bother with the library? The Hogwarts Express is going to London on Monday. It's Friday."

"Do you want to be the one to argue with Snape?" Harry asked, to which Draco wrinkled his nose and stormed further into the library. They found a table in an isolated nook, one where they could speak in hushed voices without worrying about Madam Pince storming over every five minutes. They quickly found themselves engaged in a game of Hangman that lasted nearly the entire period, only pausing toward the end when Vincent and Greg approached.

"When are you going to show us the snake?" Greg asked, taking a seat next to Harry. "You said you'd show us today."

"Why do you care so much?" Draco asked. "It's just a snake. It's not even a real snake."

"Because if you show us how to do it, maybe we can learn too," Vincent said. "You know it takes us longer. So we want to get started as soon as possible."

Draco rolled his eyes, then glanced in both directions before raising his wand.

"Here?" Harry asked, glancing around as well. "Is that really the best idea?"

"No one's around. We're in a quiet area, and Madam Pince is up front resorting books. Besides, it's not a real snake," Draco reminded him. "And it'll vanish in a few minutes. Better to do it here than somewhere else in the castle where we're bound to be spotted, and there's too much snow to go outside for lunch. Who's going to catch us here?"

Harry shrugged, silently formulating various excuses if this backfired while also wanting to see the snake just as much as anyone else.

"All right, then." Draco straightened himself, then pointed his wand beneath the desk, as far from view as possible. "Serpensortia!"

There was a bang, but not one loud enough to be heard very far from their isolated nook. A long black snake shot out from the tip of his wand and landed heavily on the floor.

"Wicked!" Vincent said with a grin as Greg immediately slid under the table to get a better look.

"Careful," Harry warned him, but Draco shook his head and said, "It's not real. It can't actually hurt him-"

"Ow!" Greg yelped, jerking back and slamming his head against the bottom of the desk. He pressed a hand against his cheek, which was bleeding, as the snake pulled back, somehow managing to look pleased with itself.

Everyone darted back, and Vincent turned to Draco, eyes wide. "You said it couldn't hurt him!"

"The book said it's not poisonous, because it isn't a real snake!" Draco protested, going very pale. "I thought that meant it couldn't hurt people!"

"Not being poisonous doesn't mean it can't hurt someone!" Harry said in exasperation as he watched Greg, who was frozen in place, eyes locked with the snake. Trying very hard not to move, he said, "Greg, back up, why don't you?"

"It'll bite me again!" Greg protested, too afraid to move.

"It's all right," Draco said impatiently. "It's not poisonous!"

"It still hurts!" Greg shot back, clutching his cheek even more tightly.

"Great thinking," Harry said to Draco. "Summoning a snake in the library."

"If you say another word I'll turn you into a snake, Potter," Draco snapped, and he turned back to the snake at hand, who was still under the desk and hissing dangerously. He swallowed. "Snape's going to kill us."

"Snape's going to kill you," Greg said, still clutching his cheek. "We didn't do anything!"

"You told me to do it in the first place!"

"Snape's not going to kill anyone," Harry said. "Because it'll vanish in a few minutes. We just need to stay very still and keep Madam Pince from noticing there's a snake in the library."

"There's a what?" Harry winced as Hermione Granger poked her head into the nook. "Did you say there's a snake in the library?"

"Hermione," Harry said. "Don't panic, but-"

Hermione saw the snake and froze. "What's that doing here?"

"It doesn't matter how it got here," Draco said. "What matters is no one finds out. It'll vanish in a couple of minutes. Just don't do anything stupid-"

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked. "Don't you have class?"

"Professor Flitwick let us out early," Hermione said. "So I thought I'd drop by the library. Lavender and Parvati are here too, returning some books." She couldn't help but purse her lips even as she stared at the snake. "You said it'll vanish?"

"It's not a real snake. It's a charm. Draco found the spell," Harry explained as Lavender and Parvati clomped over, oblivious.

"We've returned the books. Come on, Hermione, let's get out of here. We still have ten minutes until the end of the period. Why spend it in the libr-"

Lavender stopped midsentence, eyes locking with the snake as Parvati let out a shriek.

"Shut up!" Harry and Draco said together, desperately trying to quiet the two girls before Madam Pince could hear them, but it was too late. Everyone in the immediate vicinity hurried over to the once isolated nook, and the snake, overwhelmed by the sudden noise and action, shot forward, lunging at the nearest person, who happened to be Greg.

"Come on!" Greg shouted in both pain and exasperation as the snake bit him again, this time grazing the back of his hand, but even this wasn't enough to appease it, still overwhelmed by the flurry of activity. It turned and lunged again, this time at Hermione.

Harry, who in the back of his mind knew the snake wasn't a real snake and couldn't permanently damage any of them, found himself stepping forward all the same and shouting, "Stop it! Leave her alone!"

The snake stopped, and left her alone, pausing in place and turning its head slowly to look at Harry. Harry exhaled in relief before turning to the other second years, who were staring at him.

"Close one," Harry said. "Hermione, are you all right?"

Hermione just stared at him, mouth open. Even Lavender and Parvati had stopped shrieking. Harry looked around, and found everyone in the immediate vicinity was gaping at him, strange expressions on their faces.

"What?" Harry asked. "What is it?"

"What on earth is all this noise?" Madam Pince shouted, storming toward them. "What- oh, my heavens!"

The snake hissed once more, but Madam Pince was faster, and with a wave of her wand it vanished. "Where on earth did that come from? Did one of you bring it in?"

A hand was on Harry's shoulder, dragging him toward the library exit as Madam Pince began interrogating Greg, who loudly professed his innocence as he clutched his bleeding cheek with his equally bleeding hand.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked as Draco dragged him out the library and into the corridor. "Let me go."

"Shut up and walk," Draco hissed, pulling at him until they found an abandoned classroom several corridors away. He slammed the door behind them and turned to Harry, eyes wide. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Harry asked, bewildered. "Why'd you drag me out of there? Are you blaming me for what just happened? You're the one who summoned a snake in the middle of the library!"

"And you're the one who spoke to it!" Draco shot back, voice shooting up. "You're a Parselmouth! Why didn't you tell me you're a Parselmouth?"

"A what?" Harry asked. "What are you on about?"

"You can talk to snakes!" Draco said impatiently. "Since when can you do that?"

Harry stared at him. "I always have. I mean, I've only done it once before, to a boa constrictor, when I was ten. I told you that story, about the time I made the glass vanish at the zoo-"

"You didn't say you had a conversation with the snake while you were at it!" Draco shot back.

"Why is this such a big deal?" Harry asked. "You're the one who summoned it in the first place! I didn't do anything wrong!"

"It's not that you did something wrong," Draco said, shaking his head. "It's that you talked to a snake."

"And what's so terrible about that?" Harry's frustration was growing and he threw his arms into the air. "All I did was tell it to leave Hermione alone!"

"Is that what you said?" Draco asked. "It was hard to tell."

"Of course it is! You were there!"

"Potter, all I heard was hissing." Draco leaned against the closed classroom door and ran a hand through his hair. "You spoke... snake language. It all happened so quickly. The snake lunged, and you were hissing at it, and then... it just froze and turned toward you. It almost looked as though you were egging it on."

"Egging it on?" Harry's voice nearly cracked in disgust. "Against Hermione?"

"I'm not saying you were! I know you weren't," Draco hastened to clarify. "But it looked..." He trailed off, then said, "Don't you know that being a Parselmouth is really, really rare? And that it's mostly dark wizards who speak it?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "But that doesn't mean-"

"I'm not saying it does. But people are going to find out about this." Draco hesitated. "The Dark Lord spoke Parseltongue. And don't you know why Slytherin's mascot is a snake? It's because Salazar Slytherin could speak to them."

Harry went very quiet as he thought this over, and of the attacks that had gone on throughout the school.

"Potter-"

"Don't say anything," he said. "Just..." He looked up. "I need to pee."

Draco gave him a strange look. "Okay."

"Alone."

A slightly more understanding look. "Okay."

Harry felt a wave of gratitude as Draco slipped through the door back into the corridor and didn't insist on accompanying Harry. That was one good thing about Slytherin, if you wanted to be alone to process something, no one was going to insist on following you around to keep you company. Harry didn't need to pee, but he couldn't stay where he was, not with his thoughts swirling at a thousand miles a minute.

He waited a moment, then headed back into the corridor, trying to make sense of what he'd just learned about himself.