Draco Malfoy was still crowing about the newly ascendant Heir of Slytherin when Rose Potter entered the common room. She was followed by Professor Snape, who chose to remain near the doorway, unobserved. Even if some of the slytherins had been in a position to see him take his place in the dark corner, the sight of Rose Potter storming across the common room was enough to draw their attention.
There had been only one topic of conversation since the Halloween feast. Since the caretaker's stupid cat had been attacked. Since the Heir of Slytherin had threatened the school. Now, it seemed that the girl-who-lived was going to give them something else to discuss.
The Malfoy scion turned to see who had entered, just in time to catch the back of Rose's hand. With a resounding SLAP, Malfoy went to the ground.
Rose Potter stood over the boy, her right hand still outstretched, her wand in her left. She was breathing heavily, and the fury in her eyes was unmistakable.
"Get on your feet, you fucking coward. Get up and face your house." Draco stared at her, his face growing pale. The now silent common room almost shook when she shouted again. "NOW!"
oOoOoOoOo
That evening had begun in almost normal fashion - save for the fact that it was Halloween. The day had always been a sad one for Chaser, being the day when he and his father would visit the small memorial in Godric's Hollow. Now, hearing the five talk about remembering their parents - both of their parents - he realized just how different their lives had been.
Anna Sullivan had taken Spellforged to the memorial, as soon as he was old enough to ask her to do so. They had gone this year in mid-July, shortly before she left the country on business. Chaser was surprised at the gesture, but would not have been if he knew Anna Sullivan. (He found himself wondering, idly, if Dad knew her.)
No, what troubled Chaser this night was that three of his counterparts had never been to the graves of their parents. Until tonight, they had not known where that grave was. Obviously, last year they had been too busy to worry about the issue.
Chaser felt the urge to write home. At the Halloween feast, he was pleased to find that someone had asked the elves to give him hot chocolate. Before long, the rest of the gryffindors in his year, along with Colin Creevey, had raised mugs of their own.
It was, he thought, a fitting tribute to Lily Potter.
No one noticed that Ginny Weasley was missing from the feast until much later.
oOoOoOoOo
Kill… Time to Kill…
Marigold froze, causing Hermione and Ron to bump into her. "Oi, what?" asked Ron.
"Do you hear that?" She asked, getting nothing but blank looks from her friends. She had been acting oddly during the deathday party, but this was something else.
oOoOoOoOo
Seeker looked down the corridor, before walking briskly toward the nearest staircase. "It sounds like it's moving around above us." He began moving up the stairs to the second floor.
Neville struggled to keep up with Harry. Hermione and Ron followed closely behind him. "Harry, mate, slow down. What's moving around above us?"
Seeker ignored him. There is a large creature moving through the walls, guys. Any ideas?
oOoOoOoOo
Daphne Greengrass saw Rose tense up, just as the desserts were served in the great hall. "Rose, it's ok. It's just Halloween."
Rose smiled at her friend, and nodded. "I know. But it's kind of a bad date for me, you know?"
Daphne nodded. "I know." She said nothing further, despite the growing unease on Rose's face. If she wanted to talk about the anniversary of her parents' deaths, she knew that she could. Perhaps I'll have Astoria pester her later, she's always good for a laugh.
Rose, meanwhile, was speaking with the link. I can hear something distant, but I'd have to leave the great hall to get a better idea of what we're looking at. She mentally huffed. At least it's not a troll, if it's in the walls.
oOoOoOoOo
Marigold took in the scene before her, and could only respond in one way.
/Groznak./
Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, was hanging from a torch basket in the center of the flooded hallway. The torchlight reflected off of the thin layer of water, seemingly coming from the old out-of-order bathroom.
It was the wall that held Marigold's attention. There, between two windows, was a message. This is the message written on the wall, she sent to the link. "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, Beware"
"This is bad, guys." said Ron. He and Hermione had started to back away. Marigold flicked her wrist in a Goblin gesture, muttering the incantation for her mage sight. Mrs. Norris glowed with a sickly brown color, probably hinting at the magic that killed her. The torches, lit as they were by magic, had their own yellow light. But for the message, there was nothing.
The message is written in red, maybe blood or paint? She speculated, not wanting to get closer. No magic. Whoever did it actually painted the words.
Marigold, began Chaser. The feast is over, students are coming to you. Get out!
Too late, she heard the crowd exiting the great hall.
oOoOoOoOo
Rose walked near the front of the group of slytherins, hoping to get a good look at what had happened. When they entered the great hall, the scene was just as Marigold had described. She tried to get a good look at the floor, but the students exiting the hall had already walked through the flooded area, tracking wet shoeprints all over the corridor.
The chatter of the students died down as they saw Mrs. Norris. While Filch was not well liked among the snakes, or indeed the students in general, a dead cat is a dead cat. The quiet was broken in short order, when Draco Malfoy pushed his way to the front of the group.
"Enemies of the Heir, Beware!" he laughed. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"
A few of the slytherins chuckled at his words. A few of the first years from other houses gasped. Rose saw several begin to tear up, and she could not blame them. An older kid had just threatened them with death, like that cat, and not a single professor had questioned him.
Headmaster Dumbledore was examining Mrs. Norris, along with Professor Snape and Filch. Snape looked angry when Draco made his proclamation, but also said nothing - which angered Rose, for reasons she could not explain. Shortly, he told the prefects to take the students back to their common rooms. His tone brooked no debate, and his eyes had no twinkle this night.
As the slytherins began to make their way to the dungeons, Rose caught the elbow of Cassius Warrington, one of the fifth year prefects. "The rule is that we deal with problems internally, correct?"
Warrington looked at her. "Yes, that's the rule. Usually we would have a house meeting."
"Good." said Rose, her eyes intent on those of the prefect. "And how do I request a house meeting?"
Cassius looked at the departing Malfoy heir, and then back at the girl-who-lived. His father, a Malfoy ally, would urge caution. But his silver badge made his duty clear. Before he could come up with a response, a deep voice came from behind them and answered the question.
"You just did, Miss Potter." said Professor Snape. "Come along, both of you."
oOoOoOoOo
Erik Sullivan watched as Spellforged closed his eyes. The cool evening breeze had not yet grown chilly, which was fortunate for the pair - the nights were colder here on the Astronomy Tower.
Professor Sinistra had allowed Erik and Spellforged to spend the evening in the tower, lighting two candles for James and Lily. As the boys learned that night, Sinistra had been close friends with James, even attending a ball with him at one point. When Spellforged asked for permission to skip the Halloween Feast, in order to mourn his parents in his own way, she could do little else but approve the request.
The professor even had a house elf bring dinner up for the three of them. After sharing a few stories of James and Lily, the professor ate her meal at her desk, grading some of the NEWT parchments as she gave the boys their space.
Erik had grown up listening to stories about the Potters, mostly told by Foecleaver. His father and aunt had both graduated before James and Lily attended Hogwarts, though he thought they would have gotten along. Spellforged, meanwhile, had seen a whole different side of his parents from professors Flitwick and McGonagall, as well as the occasional visit to Hagrid's hut.
So, it was a natural thing to honor the Potters on the anniversary of their deaths. But the truth was that he didn't want Harry to spend the evening alone.
Spellforged had started to get an odd expression, Erik saw. Even with his eyes closed, his eyebrows raised in surprise, before lowering in anger. Something clearly had him upset.
Erik had seen his cousin drop into a trance like this before, usually in the evenings. He said it was a sort of meditation, but sometimes it seemed like more - almost like he was having a conversation with himself. When Spellforged began muttering a string of Goblin curses, Erik knew that the topic would have to wait for another day.
"Mister Spellforged?" asked the Professor. She had heard the ravenclaw's words, and knew exactly what they meant. "Is everything alright?"
Spellforged was starting to stand up, one hand on the nearby railing for support. He let the blood flow back into his legs while he considered how to answer. "Professor, I think the feast will have ended about now. Perhaps we should head back down."
Erik said nothing. He knew something else was wrong, but would ask about it later. Now, he began to clean up the leavings from dinner.
Professor Sinistra, for her part, wondered why Spellforged suddenly wanted to head back - but, given the date, was not inclined to question the boy. "Of course, Mister Spellforged."
Harry bowed his head to the Professor. "Thank you again for this, Professor."
Sinistra paused at the stairs, looking back at Harry. Then she nodded. "Mister Spellforged, you are not the only one who mourns this night." And with that, the three began the long walk down to Ravenclaw tower.
Spellforged thought about what he had learned over the link. He had been too far away to hear anything, but what they described matched the voices he had heard earlier in the month. He had little else to contribute, unfortunately - a rarity, as the other four had taken to looking to him for leadership.
The only thing he could offer was a promise - that whoever the Heir was, he would deal with them.
oOoOoOoOo
"Get on your feet, you fucking coward. Get up and face your house." Draco stared at her, his face growing pale. The now silent common room almost shook when she shouted again. "NOW!"
"What the hell are you doing, Potter?" one of the seventh years asked, angrily.
"Miss Potter has asked for a house meeting," said Cassius Warrington. "A request that our head of house has granted." He walked to the center of the room, looking around. Normally, this would be the task of one of the seventh year prefects, but neither of them had been there - and Rose had not seen fit to wait for protocol.
Warrington raised his wand. Aiming it at the Slytherin crest over the fireplace, he cast a spell. "Apartía." A bell sounded in the dorms, and three small glowing snakes appeared next to the crest. As the three stragglers came back down from the dorms, each of the snakes disappeared. When the crest glowed green, Warrington looked around the room.
"We are, all of us, gathered here, in our common room, as our traditions demand. There is no stranger, no guest among our number. We stand together, as one, to deal with a threat to our house." He gestured to Rose. "The Heiress Potter has requested this meeting. I yield the floor to her." With that, he stepped over to the fireplace, standing with the other prefects.
His eyes met those of Rose Potter, and he saw how angry she still was. He nodded to her. I hope you know what you're doing, he thought.
Rose stood in the center of the common room, looking at the faces of her housemates. This was House Slytherin - for good or ill, her house. She was a second year, and they were standing there, listening to her. Some, likely, hoped that this would backfire spectacularly, harming her standing. Others were merely curious. The first years, she noticed, were worried - they sat on one of the couches near the prefects, alongside Daphne and Tracey, who had both been attempting to calm them.
Malfoy stood at the edge of the circle, near the remaining second years. Rose noticed that the other slytherins were giving that group a wide berth.
"Someone has attacked Slytherin House this night. They left accusations and threats painted in blood on the walls of the school, conjuring visions of the fabled Chamber of Secrets. They seek to bring up the spectre of Slytherin's Monster, in hopes of spreading fear. They murdered a cat to hammer home the threat." As she spoke, she turned, looking across the faces of her housemates. She felt like she was addressing the Wizengamot, such was the importance of this maneuver. And such was the risk.
"There is no cunning on display here, anyone can conjure paint or animal blood or whatever and write angry words on stone. And show me the ambition involved in threatening the students of other houses? The muggleborn, the half blood, the squib?" She turned again when she heard muttering. "Be honest, who mourns for the cat of a squib caretaker? But turn that question around - what threat to us, to the wizarding world, does a squib caretaker pose? Why attack him? Why hurt that man, of all the targets one might attack?" She shook her head, theatrically. "No, whoever did this is no Slytherin."
Draco Malfoy desperately wanted to shout at her, this upjumped blood traitor. Only Theodore Nott's firm hand on his shoulder stilled him.
"So we have that. And I imagine, in the days to come, we will learn who made these empty threats, and who tried to make our house look like base murderers and thugs." She ignored the muttering here, for some of these students were the sons and daughters of murderers and thugs, marked by the Dark Lord.
"But then, when no one quite knew what had happened, when no one had taken the THIRTY FUCKING SECONDS it took to figure out that no Slytherin would have done this - then we have the Heir Malfoy, opening his gob and turning an empty threat into a real one."
Malfoy stepped forward now, escaping Nott's grasp. "What are you talking about, Potter?"
Rose looked at Draco, square in the eye, and gave him her coldest sneer. "The school didn't know what was happening. And then you stand there and threaten the lives of every mudblood in earshot. These kids are standing next to a dead cat, and you laugh in their faces and tell them that they're next."
She pointed her right hand at the huddled group of first years. "And now, when some gryffindor gets it in his head that the snakes are going to make a move on one of his housemates, well, shouldn't he strike first?"
Rose stepped toward Draco. "Why not? There's a first year, she can't defend herself. If we hurt her bad enough, maybe the snakes will leave us alone." Another step. "There's a slytherin coming back late from the library, there's three of us and one of him, wands out boys!" Another step, and here Rose's voice dropped to a deadly quiet - but no one in the room missed a word. "Oh look, here's their ickle seeker, and his wand's in the locker room. No one's going to miss this kid, he's the one who wants to kill my friends. Get him!"
They were almost nose to nose, now. "Draco Malfoy, Heir of House Malfoy, with one statement, you painted a target on every member of your house."
Draco gave a sneer of his own. "So what?" He was surprised at the angry muttering his comment started - not realizing who the anger of his housemates was directed toward.
"So, with nine words, you risked the lives of these nine first years, at the very least. There's more, certainly, but that's enough, for now." She stepped back and took out her wand. "I ask House Slytherin to censure Draco Malfoy."
Gasps from the older students. No one had asked for such a thing in their time at Hogwarts, maybe not even during their parents' time. Usually, problems were sorted before it got that far. Rose Potter was not willing to wait for that, clearly.
Aaron Harper, a first year boy, spoke next. "What does that mean?"
It was Marcus Flint, the Quidditch Captain, who spoke. Everyone in the room could hear the rage in his voice - though, whether the anger was directed at Rose for calling the question, or at Draco for mouthing off, no one could tell.
"It means," said Flint, "That Draco would be unable to speak except when addressed by a professor, or during class. It means that he would be removed from any position of authority - so if he were a prefect, he would lose his badge." Flint's eyes went to Draco, who was almost shaking in rage. He did not say that it also meant finding a new seeker - he didn't need to. Draco knew, just from looking at his captain, how badly he had screwed up.
Miles Bletchley, the Quidditch Keeper and a Sixth Year Prefect, also knew what censure meant for the team. He stepped forward. "Miss Potter, would any other option satisfy you?" He looked her in the eyes, and she could tell that he was sincerely seeking some sort of middle ground. "Censure is not something considered lightly."
Rose considered that. "I would welcome alternatives. An apology in the Great Hall would be a good starting point."
"I'd be a laughing stock!" shouted Malfoy.
"What are you now?" asked a fifth year, in the back of the room. Some of the younger students snickered at that, only fueling Malfoy's rage.
"Draco, this is a problem you caused. It's a problem you need to solve." She considered him. "I would withdraw my request if you agree to go to the other houses and apologize to them personally." She stepped toward him again. "You will take two prefects and Professor Snape, or Professor Vector, if he is not available, as she is a Slytherin as well. You will apologize for any offense, tell them that your house required you to apologize, and pledge to do better in the future."
"That's humiliating!" He responded.
Rose gestured at their house. "Every time a snake gets hexed in the halls as a result of your mouth, Draco Malfoy, I will visit that hex back on you seven fold." She leaned forward, her hands behind her back. "Or you can take twenty minutes out of your life and go apologize for speaking without thinking, and do better next time."
Draco looked like he wanted to get his wand out then and there, such was his anger.
"For fuck's sake, Draco, take the loss. Apologize." Theo Nott had hissed his words in an attempt at a whisper, but everyone heard. Looking around the room, the number of students nodding in agreement with Theo hammered home to Draco just how bad his situation was.
"Fine, I'll apologize." he spat the words at Rose, as if promising that this wasn't over.
Rose ignored it - she knew this wasn't over. Instead, she turned to the doorway, where Professor Snape nodded to her in approval. "Mister Warrington, I withdraw my request. If and when Heir Malfoy apologizes as he has promised, I will be satisfied."
"If there are no objections?" The house stood mute, and Warrington relaxed a bit. "Then the request is withdrawn, the meeting is over, and we can go to bed now." The tension that had built up in the room left, just as the Slytherin crest lost its glow.
oOoOoOoOo
Rose Potter suddenly found herself exhausted, mentally and physically. Without a word, she made her way to the second year girls' rooms. She was already in her bedclothes when Daphne and Tracey walked in.
"That was brilliant, Rose." said Daphne, and Rose knew that those four words carried enormous weight - the Greengrass heiress could probably have given her a lengthy critique of her performance, from mannerisms to pacing to word choice. That she was impressed meant high praise, indeed.
Rose was not feeling praised, however. Tiredly, she sat at the edge of her bed, Daphne and Tracey doing the same on Daphne's bed, the next one over.
"I just wanted a normal year," she said quietly. "I just wanted to screw around and relax and maybe figure out where my life is going, what electives I want, you know - second year nonsense."
"And, yet," said Tracey.
"And, yet, there's a creature in the walls killing cats, and someone manipulating the situation to threaten us, and this blonde git pissing on everything Slytherin he can get in range of." Rose shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if it would have been easier if I let the hat put me in Gryffindor."
Daphne and Tracey shared a look of horror at the thought.
"I just, I can't deal with a year of this rubbish, you know?" Rose wiped a hand down her face, finding moisture she hadn't known was there. "I can't even."
Daphne and Tracey crossed over to Rose's bed, where hugs were exchanged. For once, Rose did not flinch at the contact. It was, as it turned out, just what she needed.
A/N: Welcome to NaNoWriMo. Though this is cheating, as it was in beta before the month flipped over.
Re-reading the canon, I couldn't help but picture Rose's blinding rage at Draco's flippant death threat, delivered with a laugh while professors labor over what seems to be a dead body. Rose was already on edge due to the date, and the fact that Seeker and Marigold got caught at the scene and might be in trouble. So when Draco mouthed off, Rose had a fucking gutful, and showed it tonight.
"Apartía" is Greek for "Quorum", a logical spell for calling a meeting such as the one shown here. Surely, each house has its own rules and traditions, none more than Slytherin.
Feedback, as always, is welcome.
