Chapter Twelve
"Oh no, it's Granger," Draco groaned.
True to his word a familiar bushy-haired witch caught their eye across the buffet table. She seemed just as dismayed to see them, or it might be the rotting boar carcass she was standing beside. Harry nodded once to her in greeting. He couldn't imagine how she had gotten an invitation to a Death Day party, but Harry had a pretty good idea why she would want to go. The girl was insatiable when it came to her pursuit of knowledge and it would be a verifiable gem in her know-it-all crown if she had first-hand knowledge about the inner workings of a Death Day celebration. The living were not exactly unwelcomed to such a thing, it just was simply not done. For one, a ghosts' death day party was packed with other ghosts and the sensation of passing through them was disconcerting to say the least (like walking through cobwebs spun of ice and mist that chilled you to your bones). Secondly the catering left much to be desired. "There was roasted chicken at dinner," Vincent said quietly, in what was akin to a pout for him. "And ham. And mince pies and pudding."
"Morgana's mercy, does having all this rotten food actually serve a purpose?" Draco whined, covering his nose with a handkerchief as they fled the buffet table.
Harry had hoped that Sir Nicolas would had stocked something the living could partake in seeing as Harry (and Granger) had been invited, but there was no such luck. Then again it might have been a sight rude to do so if he was being honest. The ghosts were walking through the table of rotten food to gather a semblance of taste (or the memory of it) and for Harry and the other living invited to eat palatable food would be in poor taste indeed. "Harry Potter, you've made it!" came a booming voice.
Sir Nicolas floated up, the Gray Lady not too far behind him. "Sir Nicolas," he greeted with a bow. "I cannot express enough how gracious you are to have assented to my attendance of your party. This is Draco Malfoy and Vincent Crabbe, two of my classmates from Slytherin house."
"Oh a Malfoy, good, very good," the ghost bowed in greeting. "Your ancestor is amongst the headless hunt crowd. Put in a good word for me, will you?"
Draco blanched. "Um, sure. Consider it done."
Sir Nicolas floated off and Vincent turned to the blond. "I didn't know one of your ancestors was beheaded."
"Neither did I," he grumbled. "I will be sending a letter to my father immediately. If it is someone who has usurped our family name then they will be exorcised promptly."
"How like you to kill off an innocent ghost for even using your name," came a familiar voice.
"And how like you to voice your opinion when it is unwarranted," Draco snapped back turning to face Granger as she walked up to them. "I see you managed to badger Nearly Headless Nick into giving you an invitation to his fête de la mort. I would almost feel inclined to be impressed if I weren't sure you were insufferable until he allowed your attendance."
Granger's scowl was not as horrid as Helena's but it was rather impressive all the same that Draco managed to create such disdain in someone (other than Harry himself but he had gotten to know the Malfoy heir a little more and that had helped dramatically).
"Please tell me you don't plan to make a habit out of this?" Draco protested when they finally excused themselves from the festivities.
"Death Day celebrations aren't annually," Harry said. "When you have an eternity before you, it becomes a little cumbersome to celebrate one's death so ritualistically."
"Fantastic. Ghosts thinks it's too much bother to celebrate their death's every year but want to celebrate them anyway. By the gods, why would anyone..."
"Come child... Yes... so hungry... so hungry..."
"Harry?"
Harry turned to his friends his gaze confused. "I think Peeves is getting a tad into the more macabre spirit of the season."
Draco and Vincent looked just as confused. "What are you on about?" the blond asked.
"Not food... But soon... Yes... I will go... I will kill... kill... kill..."
Harry's eyes widened in horror at the words as they began to fade up the stairs. He took off immediately to the shouts of protests from the others after the voice. "Harry!" Vincent's voice called loudest of the two. "What is it?"
"There's someone in the halls. He says he's going to kill a person!"
"What?!" came Draco's voice a tad higher in pitch than normal.
They ran past the first floor where the sounds of the feast were still underway and up to the second floor where Harry turned off and started sprinting down the corridor. Their steps louder than normal because there was a great deal of water on the floor. "Harry stop," Vince had finally caught up and grabbed the younger boy's arm. "What are you talking about? Who's trying to kill you?"
"No. Not me," he waved his hand around as he tried to tug his arm from Vince's grip that had tightened suddenly. "Not me specifically. Just someone. He said he was hungry."
"Who said?" Vincent insisted as Draco appeared at the other end of the corridor, having finally caught up to the two.
"The man. He must've been invisible. He said he was hungry and was going to kill a student."
Vincent's gaze narrowed. "Harry... there was no voice..."
Harry frowned. Of course there had been a voice. It had been plain as day to him. How could Vincent not have-- Harry's eyes widened in realization. It must've been another monster. Perhaps it was a monster that could only be seen and heard by other monsters. But then why hadn't Harry been able to see him?
Seeing that he had finally calmed down Vince released his arm and turned to Draco who was stepping around a touch more cautiously. Harry glanced around hoping to see a sign of the other monster's passing. It would have been the first time he had met another one and wondered if it was the same type of monster as his father. "I dearly hope this water is not from the loo..." Draco groaned as he glared reproachfully at his shoes.
"As opposed to what? I doubt even the Weasley twins would flood the second floor for a lark," Vince said.
Harry was still looking around trying to hear the monster's voice a third time. It had sounded like it was going upstairs but not exactly as if it was through the corridor the way they had come. Peeves had been known to turn himself invisible but not to make his voice only heard by one person in a group so it couldn't be the poltergeist. Could it really be another monster in the castle? Perhaps a relative of his father's? Of his? "Is that Filch's kneazle?"
Harry turned to where Draco's voice came and saw immediately what he was talking about. The caretaker's cat was suspended mid-leap in the air. Harry stepped forward to investigate when a flash of red caught his gaze. His eyes widened at the words painted onto the corridor wall. "Is this supposed to be a joke," Draco's voice called out, slightly higher in pitch than normal. "Because it is done is supremely poor taste."
"Holy shit..." Harry whispered in awe as he read and reread the words painted on the wall in what was probably blood, "Holy shit!"
"Now what are-- what is... fuck," Vincent turned to the two of them with what was probably panic. "We need to go. We need to go now!"
But it was too late. Dinner had ended and there was already a flurry of activity and noises at the end of the corridor that would lead to their escape. Within seconds a mass of students turned the corner and began approaching. They stilled at the sight of the words which were rather easy to see if one cared to look. The forward movement ceased almost like they had hit against a shield charm and Harry could just see the beginnings of what was sure to be a rather insidious rumor began to spread. "What are you lot up to? Move along! Move along!" came the raised voice of the caretaker.
The crowd parted and the man appeared at the front of the line, his eyes latching on Harry in challenge. "Potter. What are you..."
His eyes must have caught sight of his kneazle because in the next instant his face paled several shades. "Mrs. Norris?"
The man hurried forward with an alacrity Harry hadn't seen once in the aging caretaker and stopped just short of touching his pet. He whipped around in the next instant his gaze finding Harry and narrowing. He took several steps back having been at the receiving end of the man's temper before but not fast enough as he reached out and grabbed hold of his robe. "You killed my cat!" he roared.
"No I didn't," he grunted out futilely pulling at the man's grip.
"Don't lie, boy. You've done it alright. You killed my cat! I'll kill you boy, I swear I will!!"
"Argus."
At the headmaster's appearance the man released his grip. Harry took several steps back to the safety at Vince and Draco's side. Professor McGonogall and Professor Snape were at his sides. "He killed my cat," the caretaker hissed, pointing a finger at Harry. "I want to see some punishment."
The aged old man stepped forward to inspect the feline and Professor McGonogall turned to the gathered crowd. "Everyone is to return to the dormitories immediately," she snapped.
No one dared question her with Professor Snape looming like a wraith at her side. Vince grabbed his robe and began tugging them away only to be stopped at their head of house's voice. "Not you three."
Draco, who only had just seen the words written on the corridor wall looked like an amalgamation of emotions the least of which were nausea, dread, and disbelief. Harry figured his father-- being a true monster-- tended to have that reaction on many people and wasn't too worried about the blond. The Dark Lord was a rather foreboding presence to be subjected to, even through something as innocuous as a note. (Although a note written in blood was a tad dramatic Harry thought.)
"My cat has been killed," the caretaker said heatedly to the headmaster looking on the edge of tears. "I demand there be some punishment."
"Calm yourself, Argus," the elderly wizard said in his sparkly constellation robes. "She is not dead merely petrified."
"Petrified?" Professor Mcgonogall echoed her predecessor. "But how Albus?"
"It's him that's done it," Filch said a gnarly finger pointing at Harry. "He knows that I'm... I'm..."
"I didn't kill the caretaker's kneazle," Harry spoke up in his own defense when no one else seemed to want to. The glare Professor Snape was leveling at him looked like the man had already assumed it was his fault. "We just found her like this."
"And why, precisely, were you here Mister Potter?" his Head of House sneered.
Harry sent the man a scowl. He definitely deserved the man's ire last term and might have even deserved him ignoring Harry's presence whenever he came to visit Malfoy Manor, but the fact that his own Head of House was constantly out to prove he was a blight on the face of the earth was starting to really piss him off. Vince, seeing Harry had no intention of answering the man without spitting vitriol and probably ending up in detention for the rest of the year, quickly answered in his place. "Harry does not participate in Hogwarts' Samhain celebrations. We attended Sir Nicolas' Death Day party instead."
Professor Snape's gaze spared Vince only a moment of consideration before he turned back to Harry. "The Gryffindor ghost, Mister Potter? How... fitting. Has your summer in luxury ruined you of our own meager feasts?"
Harry swallowed the snarl that crawled up his throat, but the venom in his voice could not be hidden. "My mother died today. I do not find the day worth celebrating if I cannot speak to her."
This, at least, took the man off balance. The Headmaster with his vomit-inducing robes stepped forward then before either one of the dark-haired slytherins could start another volley. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he reminded the potions master.
The professor merely walked off in a flurry of black robes. "I will escort you three to the common room where you will stay until morning," he snapped behind him.
Vince grabbed Harry's arm when he bared his teeth at the man's retreating back. "Yes sir," he called out before Harry could offer his own rebuttal.
Harry had just about had enough of this campaign Professor Snape was spearheading against him. It was exhausting, time-consuming, disruptive to his studies, and doing no favors to his standing in the hierarchy to boot. While it was pretty much ignored during the first month, having the head of slytherin have such an obvious distaste for him was starting to raise eyebrows. And the man had to know how his attitude was affecting Harry's entire life. Just last week he had banished two of Harry's potions halfway through the brewing process due to some microscopic color differentiation or boiling intensity. The week before he had lowered Harry's grade on an essay for going three inches over the required length (Granger had been a whole foot over the required length and received no such similar punishment). When Harry was being treated worse than even the Gryffindors, there were bound to be repercussions. He'd had to hex a third year twice this month and had already been challenged by Davis and Bagshot just this morning. Helena had warned him that if things didn't change soon he would be in a much worse situation.
And if he wanted a sign of change, the note on the corridor wall was an asteroid strike.
Of course he knew what the Chamber of Secrets was. Or rather, what Hogwarts a History said it was. It was a footnote that would be missed by most but Harry was adamant about learning everything about his heritage. There were the normal paranoid delusions of Salazar Slytherin creating the chamber in secret and hiding a monster there that would purge the muggleborns from the school when called forth by his heir. Harry thought that was complete and utter hogwash. (It helped that he had spoken with Vince more about his father's campaign before his mother's betrayal drove him batty.) The Dark Lord had been the heir and his earliest political aspirations were mostly geared to preserving the wizarding traditions and teachings that coincidentally enough the Muggleborn population wanted to modify in order to better suit their muggle-upbringing. Voldemort had thought that was ridiculous and had indicated as such. The public hadn't appreciated the sentiment. (Then again when things escalated to include curses and hexes, Harry doubted anyone would have listened anyway.)
Taking all of these things into consideration Harry was pretty sure that whatever had been placed in the chambers was there to protect the students not attack them. Of course that wasn't how history remembered it. (Harry was pretty sure a Gryffindor was to blame for the mass hysteria involving his ancestor.)
Harry ran the words over and over in his head as they were escorted down to the dungeons. Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Word must've gotten to Voldemort about
Caretaker Filch's harsh treatment of him. His father's reaction was rather melodramatic all things considered. 'Was this what it was like to have an overprotective parent?' Harry wondered. He had seen Lucius Malfoy react extremely to complaints voiced by his son on more than one occasion that past summer.
As soon as they entered the common room, Vincent continued to drag him into their dorm room with Malfoy not too far behind. Goyle, having caught sight of them as they made their way through the crowd of gossiping Slytherins, quickly followed. "What does this mean?" Vincent hissed as he closed the door behind them.
Harry frowned at his rumpled robe but patted it down without much concern. "He must be here. In the castle."
"'He'?" Goyle said. "He who?"
Vincent sent a sharp gaze at the other boy. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
"But the Dark Lord is dead!" Malfoy half-wailed, half-shouted.
Harry shook his head. "That's what the Ministry would have you believe. Hagrid doesn't for a second and he gets all his information from Dumbledore. If anyone would know about the Dark Lord's true demise it would be him."
Harry paused. If his father was back so soon then Harry would have to do something about the Headmaster and probably sooner rather than later. He still had no idea how he was supposed to go about convincing a Mage-class wizard not to interfere with the rising of a Dark Lord but it was the only way he could think of to help his father short of killing the man (and Harry was not fooling himself to believe he was anywhere near that strong of a monster to take on the defeater of Grindelwald). Besides, infiltrating the Ministry would take some time yet and that had been his back up plan.
"He's the only other Heir of Slytherin that I know of. I have to find the Chamber of Secrets and offer whatever aid I can. In the meantime, we need to keep attention away from him as much as possible. If my-- Lord is in hiding, it is for a reason."
Harry's gaze slipped to Draco. Lucius Malfoy had renounced all claim of servitude to his father and cited being coerced under curse in the first place. If this was true, Harry could not trust his own safety to the boy until he knew for a fact where his loyalties lied. He passed his gaze to Vincent. The boy nodded and started planning with the others. (Which mostly consisted of curtailing Draco's complaints and convincing Greg that there would be time to eat more sweets later.)
Although the Crabbe heir had not been tested, Harry trusted him. Maybe not enough to reveal his true lineage ('A secret that I'm almost positive the Headmaster was aware of,' Harry thought while fiddling with the runic necklace he still wore despite having learned occlumency in the last year), but enough that he believed the boy did wish to serve his father once he returned. It left Harry to believe the Crabbe family in particular might be able to be trusted in the years to come if their heir was any indication. "Do you think he's waiting for something?" Goyle asked, looking fascinated by the entire series of events. "Like to see how the headmaster will retaliate with his presence in the school?"
Harry nodded in acquiescence. "Perhaps. But speculation will not aid us at this time."
"I agree," Vince said. "It is best we act as if nothing has changed until we learn more or are directly contacted by the Dark Lord."
Harry had to bite his cheek to keep the grin from his face at the mere thought of his father reaching out. If he was lucky he would be able to spend this summer solstice amongst family. (He wondered if they had a family manor like the Malfoy's or if it would be similar to Privet Drive and of a more modest size. If they were descendants of Salazar Slytherin then perhaps they had their own castle?) "Business as usual," Draco repeated, having finally calmed down. "Sure, that seems easy enough."
And it was. Until Zacharias Smith showed up petrified. Coincidentally enough Harry had an argument with the unpleasant boy only two days before when Lockhart and Creevey had once again waylaid him and Smith had provided colorful commentary. Harry had resisted hexing the boy for the slight but had used an overpowered disarming charm on the boy the very next day in Defense.
Only for the boy to show up petrified.
His father was not being as subtle as Harry thought a Dark Lord of his renown ought to be.
And of course the school was in a complete and utter tizzy. "Smith was a right arse, but he was a pureblood," Michael Corner said in herbology after the news had spread.
"What does that have to do with anything?" asked another ravenclaw girl that Harry hadn't actually met yet. (Which meant that her family wasn't particularly wealthy, powerful, or old.)
"The monster in the chamber of secrets is supposed to attack muggleborns," Hannah Abbot said. "Everyone knows that. It's Slytherin's chamber."
Harry frowned at his place next to Draco but did not say anything in his ancestor's defense. Today was one of the rare days that Professor Sprout had allowed them to choose their own partners and Harry was thankful for the respite. In any class he was paired with someone from another house he was questioned relentlessly about the heir of slytherin. Being a very poor liar Harry had been hard pressed to convince the others to drop the topic. He wished they were still on repotting mandrakes today if only so he wouldn't have to hear all the speculation the ravenclaws were throwing around about his ancestor. They were insatiably curious and didn't seem to operate under the word games the same way that slytherin house did that restricted outright saying what one meant. Instead he was casting a fire charm at a slug and expected to watch apathetically as it burned to a crisp. 'What is wrong with the world?' he wondered as a green flame flew from his wand and found another slug.
Upon being released the group headed to the lunch room where Harry had lost much of his appetite since breakfast. Even though he had had little to eat that morning the news of Zacharias Smith's petrification during Transfiguration had been unexpected. Harry wished his father would just speak to him rather than lashing out at anyone who had any simple disagreement with him. (Perhaps the monster had heard tale of a revenge plot from the hufflepuff and that was why he had petrified the boy?)
He could have handled a single boy's wounded pride. Especially one as full of hot air as Zacharias Smith. Despite hailing from an esteemed house he was poorly suited for the politics of the purebloods. Kevin Entwhistle was more of a threat politically speaking and he was a right foul git the likes of Draco when he was being especially horrid. (The man had no filter and often said the wrong thing to the wrong person at the wrong time completely unapologetically. Harry wondered if the ravenclaw knew why he was always being jinxed?)
Did that mean his father didn't have faith in Harry's ability to take care of himself? To handle school children? If that was true then he would never expect Harry's aid in his return to power or the campaign that would follow. With that horrid thought effectively ruining his mood and decimating what was left of his appetite Harry stood. "I will go and reserve our table at the library for our free period."
Goyle was the first to look up from his food. "But you've barely eaten. You'll be hungry again before dinner."
"I'm still full from breakfast," he lied. Truthfully he hadn't eaten very much besides a bit of toast and some fruit at breakfast but if the rolling of his stomach was any indication (which he knew it was) Harry would be sick if he pushed the issue much further. "I will come with you," Draco said unexpectedly, wiping his hands on a napkin as he too came to a rise.
Harry frowned but shrugged in acceptance. It's not like he was trying to run away from his allies. He just wanted to stop thinking. Whether someone came with him to the library didn't change that he was going to pour over their assigned work until he had no need room for useless thoughts about his own ineptitude in the eyes of the monster that sired him. "Greg and I will join you after we finish," Vincent said by way of goodbye.
Harry nodded his acceptance and grabbed his bag and an apple (just in case) before heading to the library with Draco in tow. "Bad business about Smith, right?" Draco asked as they exited the noisy great hall and turned towards the moving staircases.
Harry began listing the sacred twenty-eight in his head and their wizengamot seats. He had gone through Abbot, Avery, Black, Bulstrode, Burke, and Carrow before Draco spoke again. "You must not be too upset about his petrification, all things considered."
Seeing that the blond had no plans in ceasing this line of conversation (and much worse expected Harry to contribute) he made a soft hmm-ing noise before Draco's words caught up with him. "'All things considered'?"
Draco waved a hand in the air as they waited for the moving staircase they would need to take to the library to stop on their landing. "You and him did have a bit of a row last week."
"A disagreement," Harry corrected as they stepped onto the moving staircase, "That I came out the better for. There was no need for reprisal on my part. If anything he would have sought retribution if he was active in the school hierarchy."
Harry wasn't particularly active in the ranking system that the school as a whole operated under as it was more convoluted than the one within Slytherin house. Academics, house points accrued, club activities, alliances, friendships, all of this and more determined one's standing in the school ranking system and it was almost impossible to get a straightforward rank from those clustered together. Prefects, for instance, were generally the highest rank in their year unless they were especially dislikable (as Helena's prefect yearmate was). If it was quidditch season and your team was doing well that could improve your ranking at the school but would not matter much outside of the season unless the house had taken the quidditch cup the previous year or was a contender for the quidditch cup this year. Sixth years were especially prone to being academically ranked as they had just taken their OWLS and were studying for their NEWTS and were on a potential career track if they were especially active in the hierarchy. Then there were the students that didn't really attempt to improve their ranking at all and were content to remain in obscurity. Unfortunately for Harry he was never an unknown and could not afford to remain apathetic to the perceived authority he would have in the school as a whole by next year.
He scowled at the thought of how busy he was going to be but Draco thankfully did not continue their conversation. Or at least until they had been sitting down in the library for a while. (Probably because Harry had been lulled into a false sense of security.)
"This is because of you, isn't it?"
Harry glanced up from his star chart to see Draco staring at him. They were still alone at their study table in the library. Vince and Goyle had yet to join them. "What is?"
"The petrifications. The Dark Lord. 'Enemies of the heir beware.'"
Harry set his quill down and made a point to control his breathing. Internally he was panicking but Lady Malfoy had showed him how to master his outward appearance. "You think I opened up the chamber of secrets? Without you and Vincent?" he asked with a perfect incredulous expression.
The blond frowned and glanced away. Harry internally cheered but of course the other wasn't done yet. "Well maybe not you specifically, but it is a bit of a coincidence, don't you think? You have an argument with Filch and the next thing you know his cat is petrified. You practically curse Smith and the next day he's solid stone too."
"It was hardly an argument. I didn't even know squibs existed before and that they were such a sensitive topic. He freaked out over nothing. And besides, Michael Corner and the Weasley twins have all had detentions with him since mine. If it weren't for that note on the wall I'm sure everyone would think the twins were responsible. And I wouldn't be stupid enough to actually attack Smith right after I'd gotten into a row with him."
If Harry hadn't gone running after invisible voices threatening to kill people, he wouldn't have been a suspect to begin with but it was a learning experience all around.
"You said it was a disagreement."
Harry's fists tightened under the table. "And it was. What good would it do for me to attack someone after I've already won? I know better than that, you've taught me better than that."
Truthfully, it should be attributed to Lady Narcissa the new state of calm he was able to achieve when he was insulted. He had never had much reason to act on it but he was self-aware enough to realize his temper was rather explosive. But Draco wasn't exactly unhelpful in Harry's assimilation into his place as an heir to a pureblood house. And if flaming the boy's ego kept him from discovering things that he should not then all the better.
"I suppose... it really would be childish of you to continue unless you wanted to declare a feud... And you're hardly vindictive enough for such a thing..."
'Got ya,' Harry thought before saying aloud. "If I was going to declare a house feud it would be against the professor. Me being magnanimous enough to let him bully me all year should speak for itself."
Draco rolled his eyes. "If you just apologized he would calm down. You refuse to admit fault in the whole situation."
And just like that Harry was able to work around Draco's remarkably clever mind. Honestly he had expected Vincent to be the first to start making assumptions but Draco wasn't the top of their year for nothing (or rather, tied with Granger with top of their year but everyone was careful to not mention that in their house). The rest of the day passed without anything more exciting than Lockhart's robes being charmed to flash like a disco ball (much to his horror and pretty much everyone else's humor). It appeared that their defense professor saw the spectacle as a sign his students held little respect for his impressive (and surely fictional) resume. Goyle came to dinner that night with rather interesting news. "That idiot is actually creating a dueling club?" Draco asked in horror.
Goyle nodded his head feverishly with a grin that matched Vincent's own. Harry often thought that the two boys had to have been close from birth to be so alike, but had never gotten a straight answer whenever he asked. "Not only is he starting a dueling club, but he's having Professor Snape help him with the demonstrations."
This caught Harry's attention (and everyone else's within a ten feet radius). Excited chatter ran up and down the table. While Professor Snape was hardly Harry's biggest fan at the moment, it would still be entirely too pleasing to see that blond fopp the Headmaster had hired be done in by the skill of the potions professor who coveted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. "When is the first meeting?" Harry asked.
He knew Vincent and Draco were definitely going and as long as Harry stayed out of direct line of sight of their potion's professor he should avoid anymore barbs the man hurtled his way. (Potions had turned into Harry's least favorite subject and only Draco's continued insistence on being his partner had saved his grades from plummeting due to his suddenly low marks on his homework assignments.) "Right after Yule hols," Goyle said. "Lockhart was going to have it this week but professor McGonogall got all in a huff about exams. It would've been pretty useless as far as hoping we'd learn anything especially useful but I reckon it was mostly so students could go home and tell their parents that the school is doing everything they can to keep us safe."
"A publicity stunt," Draco observed.
Harry snorted. "Yeah. That sounds like Lockhart alright."
Draco didn't seem to find the thought so amusing. "Even if he taught us anything useful, it's exams all next week and then Yule. We wouldn't have another meeting until next year. It would ultimately be time wasted where we could be studying."
Harry rolled his eyes. If things were different (that is, if Draco wasn't so biased and Granger wasn't so stubborn) the two would have gotten along famously. Harry had heard Longbottom bemoaning the study schedule she was enforcing on him and it sounded remarkably similar to the one Draco had insisted on. If the two ever put aside their differences then Harry could just push them into their own study group and would be left with more normal intellects like Vince, Goyle, and Nott. "Speaking of, we best be off Goyle."
Harry glanced between Draco and Goyle as the two gathered their bags and headed for the door. "Where are you lot off to?" he asked. It wasn't outside of the realm of possibility that Draco would go off on his own with one of the other boys in their year but it was definitely not something he often did. For the most part he was with Vince and Harry (or one of them, with or without others involved). Goyle in particular was generally wherever Vincent was.
"Potions brewing. Goyle's been having trouble with the forgetfulness draught and we have double potions in the morning," Draco said by way of explanation.
Harry shrugged before turning to Vincent. "I guess that leaves me and you with our transfiguration paper. Want to commandeer the best thomes in the library and watch the upper years glare at us?"
Vince smirked and that was answer enough. Both of them found great joy in making the third and fourth years fluster over a polite way to demand they stop claiming things they didn't particularly need. It was normally something as simple as a particular spot at meal times or the best study tables and materials in the library that were out of Madame Pince's line of sight. When they arrived into the library they promptly set their bags down on such a particular table before heading into the shelves to find Rigby's treatise on animate to inanimate transfiguration which although useful for their current lesson plan in the class was more advanced than they would need and probably very useful to fourth years who were focusing on inanimate to animate transfiguration theory. "Do you think Interdisciplinary Studies of Transfiguration and Conjuration would be useful?"
"And how would you explain your need for that if a fifth year comes looking for it?"
Harry frowned. "Good point. Much too easy for them. What are third years learning currently?"
Vince chuckled and shook his head in bemusement. Harry felt completely unapologetic. Several of the upper years had a lark at his expense more than a few times last year. This was relatively minor payback all things considered of what he was owed if Helena was to be believed. If the upper years complained about this too much they would be seen as weak and no one sorted into Slytherin house wanted that. It was worse than one's parents not being pureblood. (Harry had discovered early on that if it hadn't been for his fame and the esteemed status of the Potter bloodline he would have had a considerably less enjoyable time about.)
"Are you going to tell the others?" Vince asked as they continued down the aisle now well within the reference section.
"The others?" Harry was only half paying attention as he looked for transmutation texts. He was sure he had heard Daphne complain about the subject around this time last year and it wasn't like the professors ever changed their lesson plan.
"Malfoy and Goyle. Are you going to tell them the Dark Lord is your father?"
Harry whipped around too fast to play nonchalant but the question had taken him completely off guard. "What?" Harry tried to laugh it off.
Vince's stare didn't match the incredulous chuckle that Harry had asked the question. His classmate was completely serious.
"Vincent," Harry began his mind racing. "You cannot possibly--"
"And why not? I am more observant than others assume. You give away more than you probably think you do."
Harry ran a hand through his hair. It was a tell, he knew it was, but Vince was driving him crazy. Draco could easily be fooled into believing that he was mistaken. Why couldn't Vince act the same way? Harry had thought the boy hadn't even noticed anything. "Give away what?"
"You said that the Dark Lord was the only other Heir of Slytherin," Vince said.
Harry's breath caught in his throat and he immediately called up his magic. This could not happen. One of the very few things that kept him safe was the complete anonymity he had thanks to his step-father's name. If it became public knowledge who his father was Harry would be under constant surveillance. It was fine enough for a few select people to know he wasn't a supporter of the Light, but the son of the Dark Lord? And there was only one way to guarantee that anyone with such a suspicion would remain silenced forever.
Harry had never cast the Killing Curse before. In fact, his research into the Unforgivables had been sorely lacking as no text discussing them gave the spell name. But any spell could be cast with enough intent and while Harry didn't want to kill his closest ally, he couldn't betray his father. The wards of Hogwarts didn't actually record use of wandless magic as even fifth years were known to have accidental magic if they were stressed enough (OWLS were known to be stressful). Harry would not be immediately at fault for the boy's death and with the petrifications going around no one would be too surprised. "That's the loyalty you've been talking about. Your 'commonality' with the Dark Lord," Vince continued unaware how close to death he was.
Harry's throat tightened, but he felt magic tingling in his core. If he could channel it down through his wand hand, he was sure that something would come of it even without holding the holly stick.
He would not go back to the Dursleys. Not when his Father was so close and he could finally meet the monster that had sired him. "I am not beholden to my Head of House, but if you will have me, I would pledge myself to you."
Harry's head whipped up and he lost grip of the magic he had been channeling. It released in a brisk wind that rustled through the aisle of the library and wound around the corner. It was tinted worryingly green along its edges but did not seem to do much more than bring a chill to the air. Vince arched a single unimpressed eyebrow. Harry was a bit too dumbfounded to feel embarrassed. "You would swear fealty to me?" He had never had a vassal before and wasn't under any illusion that his Father's old vassals would serve him as well, even if they were still loyal to the Dark Lord.
"I do not know the Dark Lord nor what has become of him. Who I do know is Harry. And the man you will become."
None of what Vincent was saying was helping things make sense to him. Harry wasn't great by any means. He wasn't the smartest nor the strongest and if anything, he had a pension for getting into trouble at Hogwarts, a trait that Professor Snape attributed to his step-father of all things. He had probably lost his House more points than all the other first years combined last term and with his father persecuting anyone who so much as tried to give Harry a detention, more trouble was sure to follow. If it wasn't for his father, Harry would be no one. "I am no one, Vincent."
The Crabbe heir nodded. "Perhaps. But that will not always be the case. I would swear the oath now if I had the power to give it to you. As it were, the moment I reach the age of majority, you will have my service. Until then know that you have my loyalty, Heir Slytherin."
Harry sucked in a breath and flushed. No one had ever addressed him as anything that could connect him to the Dark Lord, to his father. He had never realized how much he had wanted it before that moment. Vince was kind enough to not comment on the tears that Harry shed in silence.
A/N: I know it's been a long time coming by here are the rewritten chapters I promised last year. I'm posting a bunch of chapters all at once-- many of which have been rewritten and the last of which is an update. Because of this it might be helpful to reread at least from chapter 8 onwards where a lot of the additional scenes begin cropping up. That also means the author note will be identical for half of the chapters so every reader that's already started the story knows what's going on. I thank everyone for their patience.
Aerialas