Chapter 3: Spring 1990
Harry returned from the Christmas holidays with a small degree of trepidation. Whilst he was excited for classes to resume, he had enjoyed the two-week break from his dorm mates, and as such, was reluctant to resume sharing a living space with them once more. (It was rather nice to not wake up covered in itchy boils or find spiders in his shoes.) Leaving home meant abandoning the safety his family had created, but the magical allure of Hogwarts beckoned, and Harry felt powerless to resist. There were still so many places to explore, spells to learn, and that strange skeletal horse to befriend. Besides, he still had to return his library books.
His first night back, the other First Year Slytherins ignored him, which suited Harry just fine. He ate alone at dinner, sitting at the end of the Slytherin table and prodded his Cottage pie with his fork. Every so often, he would catch a glimpse of Cedric over at the Hufflepuff table, surrounded by a horde of friends, and Harry tried not to let the scene bother him. Cedric couldn't help it that he was well-liked by their peers.
(When Harry left dinner early that night, nobody noticed.)
Harry wasn't sure why he woke up so early the next morning. The dormitory was still dark and Harry guessed there were still several hours before breakfast. He rolled over and watched the sun's rays refract on the surface of the Black Lake far above, casting faint, greenish ripples of light across the stone floor of the dormitory. A school of silvery fish darted by, followed closely by a hungry-looking mermaid with a spear. Harry closed his eyes, listening to her hauntingly beautiful voice as she called out to her friends. If he focused hard enough, he could hear the sound of water, pulsing, just on the other side of the walls. There was a faint rustling from somewhere nearby, which Harry presumed to be one of his dorm mates shifting in their sleep.
A soft whisper caught his attention and Harry's eyes snapped open. He lay in bed, ears straining. Were his dorm mates preparing a prank? He was surprised it took them so long. He had expected it the night before.
Another hissed whisper, this time more distinct. "Cold…"
That didn't sound at all like one of his dorm mates. He propped himself up on his elbows and squinted in the direction of the voice, which seemed to be coming from the end of his bed. Only, there was nobody there. At least not that he could see. Perhaps they were using an Invisibility Cloak? Or, he thought, a sickening feeling spread through his chest. What if the stranger had his Invisibility Cloak?
Harry sat up so quickly his head spun, and he dove for the little table next to his four-poster, searching for his wand and glasses. What his fingers closed around wasn't the familiar holly wand, but a firm coil of rope. Only, to his surprise, the coil shifted in his grip and something sharp pierced the skin of his hand. Jamming his glasses on his face and grabbing his wand, he lit the tip just in time to catch a glimpse of a long brown snake as it fell off the table with a heavy thunk.
"You bit me!" Harry gasped in surprise. He fumbled to hold his wand but the pain in his right hand caused him to drop it several times. Frustrated, he gripped his wand between his teeth and cradled his hand against his chest, hissing when his fingers brushed against the two puncture wounds. When the scent of his blood reached his nose, he swallowed down the panic that bubbled up in his chest.
His surprise again when he heard the same voice whisper, "Sorry."
Eyes widening in surprise, Harry leaned over the side of his bed and peered underneath. The snake was coiled around a stray pair of socks, its dark red eyes glinting in the wandlight. If he wasn't so irritated with the reptile, he might have thought it was cute. It flicked its tongue out at him as if it were mocking him.
"You can talk?" Harry asked the snake, feeling very silly. While he had never seen a snake in person before, he knew that they shouldn't be able to talk.
"Naturally," it replied, and Harry startled at its dry voice. "You can too?"
Harry ignored this. "Are you venomous?"
"Oh yes," it said, sounding smug. "I can kill many mice. Three a week!"
That's it. He was hallucinating. He hopped out of bed and threw on a pair of robes before crouching down next to his bed. Grabbing his school bag, he opened it up and instructed the snake to get inside.
If it was possible for a snake to look suspicious, this one managed it. "Is it warm?"
Harry crammed a scarf into his bag with a huff before commanding the snake once again. He crept out of the dormitory and made his way through the vacant common room. Even the most ambitious of Slytherins (and panicked Fifth Years studying for their OWLs) seemed to still be in bed. Harry checked his watch before stepping out into the dungeons— although it wasn't against the rules to be out of the common room so early, he wouldn't put it past Snape to give him detention anyway. The bite on his hand was becoming too painful to ignore, however, and if he had any hope of holding a wand by his first lesson of the morning, he would need to get the swelling down.
Madam Pomfrey was already awake and tending to a girl with a beak for a nose when he entered, so Harry deposited himself on his usual bed to wait. After the other student was discharged, the mediwitch turned her attention towards Harry with a heavy sigh and began to cast a series of diagnostic tests on him. "I wasn't expecting to see you until at least next week, Mr Potter."
Harry shrugged and allowed her to fuss over his hand. She summoned over a jar of leaves and instructed him to stick one in his mouth. It had a nutty, asparagus-like taste, and had an odd spring to it when he chewed on it. He watched with interest as summoned a little pot of glittering purple paste, which she rubbed the inflamed skin, quickly numbing the stabbing pain in his hand.
"This is a snake bite, Mr Potter," she commented.
Harry nodded and spit the chewed up leaf mush into a small dish Madam Pomfrey held out for him. She waved her wand and the mush glowed for a moment before she scooped it out of the bowl and began to slather it over the puncture wounds. "This will draw out the venom," she explained, noticing his interest. She tapped his hand with her wand, and skin knitted itself back together, leaving only two small impressions where the holes used to be. "Though I'd like to know how you managed to get a snake bite in January."
Harry gestured towards his school bag and lifted the flap with his good hand. The snake poked its head out, its tongue tasting the air. Madam Pomfrey gasped and whipped her wand towards the creature.
"No!" He said, hiding the bag behind him, taking care not to jostle the snake too much. He didn't want another bite, after all. "Don't!"
The mediwitch gave him an incredulous look. "Mr Potter, a venomous snake has no place in a school full of children and I certainly do not allow them in my hospital wing. It's done enough damage already."
Harry shook his head so fiercely, his glasses slid down his nose. "It wasn't its fault! I scared it when I grabbed it."
Madam Pomfrey looked even less impressed by this. "And why were you grabbing an adder at six in the morning?"
Harry elected to ignore this question. "You can't kill it. It's a smart snake. It can talk." Harry had no idea why he was defending the creature that bit him, but his heart clenched with panic at the idea that the woman before him might kill it.
"It can talk," Madam Pomfrey repeated, raising a single eyebrow at this.
Harry nodded before reaching into his bag and lifted the snake out, holding it between himself and the woman. "Ask it a question."
Madam Pomfrey's face contorted with confusion and she stood in silence for an awkwardly long amount of time. Only when Harry pushed the reptile towards her, nodding his head, did she roll her eyes and clear her throat. "Hello," she said, sounding like she wanted nothing more than to eject both him and his snake from the Hospital Wing.
The snake lifted its head and let out a single, unintelligible hiss before tucking its nose under its tail. Harry stared at the coiled up creature in his hands in confusion. Had it been a venom-induced hallucination that made him think that the snake was talking? He glanced back up at the unimpressed look on Madam Pomfrey's face and gave her a nervous smile.
"Well?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow.
Harry stuttered for a moment before giving up and booking it, bag and reptile in hand.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Harry hissed when the doors to the Hospital Wing closed behind him. "You made me look like an idiot."
"Was I supposed to?" it asked.
"Yes!" He snapped. "She was talking to you."
"That's what she was doing? It didn't sound like talking."
When Harry pointed out that the snake seemed to have no problem understanding him, it huffed. "If that's what you'd like to call her grunts," it replied, flicking its tongue. "Do I look like an ape to you?"
Harry let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. "What's your name?"
After explaining the concept of a name to the snake and determining that 'it' was actually a 'she', he began listing potential names for his new friend. The conversation carried them to the Great Hall, which was deserted save for a red-headed Gryffindor reading the Daily Prophet. By the time the rest of the school began to trickle in, Harry had already finished his breakfast and slipped out of the Great Hall so that he and the snake could continue their conversation somewhere without prying ears.
The snake was surprisingly chatty and Harry found himself sprinting to his first lesson. Professor McGonagall was not amused when he slid into his seat seconds before class began. While he was pulling out his homework, the chair next to him squeaked as someone slid into it. Harry didn't have to look over to guess who it was.
"How are you feeling, Potter?" Atticus Nettles asked, handing over their essays to McGonagall with a charming smile. She gave Nettles a thin-lipped nod and moved on. "We didn't see you this morning."
Harry frowned in confusion. Was Nettles making small talk with him? He shrugged in response, not entirely sure where the conversation was going.
"No nasty surprises then?" He asked, a malicious grin spreading across his face. "You were gone before any of us woke up."
Nasty surprises?— oh. Harry had never questioned the appearance of the snake, though in hindsight he probably should have. Harry felt silly for not realising that Nettles or one of his cohorts must have placed it there sometime during the night. Although he was no stranger to Nettles' mean spirited pranks, placing a venomous snake somewhere for him to find seemed to be an unnecessary escalation. True, adder bites were rarely fatal, but did Nettles know that?
Well, Harry wasn't about to give Nettles the satisfaction of knowing that his prank had been successful. Schooling his features into a suitably confused look, he shook his head.
Nettles gave Harry a wide eye look, further confirming Harry's suspicions. "Nothing happened to you this morning?" When Harry shook his head once more and tilted his head in confusion, Nettles glanced back at his friends, who were watching from several rows back. "You didn't go to the hospital wing?"
Another head shake.
"Where did you go then?" There was a small amount of panic in Nettles' voice, which brought Harry a small measure of glee.
Harry gestured towards his copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, and subtly nudged his bag further under his desk.
Nettles opened his mouth to ask another question but was cut off by Professor McGonagall, who cleared her throat and fixed Nettles with an unimpressed stare. "If you have finished your conversation, Mr Nettles, I would like to begin my lesson."
Harry bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing.
At the end of the lesson, Nettles took off to rejoin his friends. Harry couldn't hear their hushed conversation, but they looked rather panicked, and he assumed it was because of the venomous snake that may or may not be roaming their dormitory. Harry couldn't help but let out a giggle before trotting off towards the library for his free period. He had a lot to learn about snake care, it would seem.
Genius Fratris
It wasn't until the next day when Harry and Cedric finally got a chance to meet up. After Charms, Cedric had a free period and Harry elected to skip History of Magic, so the two boys set off to explore the castle before lunch. After several unsuccessful attempts at gaining access to the kitchens and being chased off by Mrs Norris when she caught them scouting out Filch's office, Cedric suggested they take a break and walk along the Black Lake.
Harry peeked inside his bag where the snake was snoozing in his scarf, whom he had taken to carrying around. But even wrapped up, the snake complained about the cold, and that was inside the castle. Harry had a feeling that she wouldn't appreciate a stroll around the grounds in January.
Cedric noticed his hesitance. "Or we could go to the library?" he said, though Harry could hear the reluctance in the suggestion. Although Cedric was a good student, he avoided the library if he could help it. Harry didn't know the full story, but he had heard it had something to do with Madam Pince and Cedric's proclivity for talking.
Glancing around and seeing that they were alone, Harry extended his bag towards his friend and gestured for him to look inside. Cedric did so, brow furrowed, only to jump back with a strangled yelp when he caught sight of the sleeping reptile. Harry hushed him and quietly explained what had transpired the day before, hoping it would calm Cedric's nerves.
It did not.
In fact, it only served to rile him up further. Cedric's chest swelled with indignation, his grey eyes narrowing. "You need to tell a teacher. Snape's your Head of House. Isn't he supposed to stop these sort of things?"
Harry huffed and rolled his eyes. "Snape hates me. I bet he's inviting them around for tea and discussing how to prank me."
"He's a teacher. He's not out to get you," Cedric said. When Harry opened his mouth to disagree, Cedric continued on. "Have you talked to any of the teachers about this?"
A shuttered look crossed Harry's face, and he drew away, reaching into his bag to run his fingers along the snake's back. She gave a contented hiss before burrowing deeper into her scarf. "What's the point? It's not like they've done anything to help me so far. I'm fine."
"Because 'fine' means you end up bitten by a snake," Cedric snapped. He watched Harry's shoulders collapse at his words, and guilt flooded through his veins. Making his friend feel worse about the situation wasn't going to make it any better. He heaved a great sigh and reached out to place a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry twitched at the contact, but didn't push him off, which Cedric supposed was a good sign.
"They're not mind readers, Harry," Cedric pointed out in a gentle voice. "They can't do anything if you don't ask for help."
He didn't reply, but that was normal when it came to Harry. Cedric had long accepted that Harry didn't talk for a variety of reasons, even if those reasons made little sense to him. He shot his friend a smile before pulling away and starting off down the corridor again. Harry followed after him though it was obvious his attention was elsewhere.
"It hasn't been all that bad," Harry said after a particularly long stretch of silence. "She's actually pretty nice."
Cedric stopped and stared at his friend, confused by the non sequitur. "She?"
Harry nodded, a grin lighting up his face that Cedric had never seen before. He tried not to back away when Harry extracted the adder from his bag, but it wasn't easy. Especially when Harry presented the reptile to him. "She can talk," Harry explained.
"Can she?" he ask in a strangled voice.
Harry nodded and looked at the snake, whose head tilted sideways like a curious dog. You know. If dogs were scaly and had red eyes. But as bizarre as the sight was, nothing was as surprising as the snake opening up its mouth and hissing at Harry. At least until, to his horror, Harry let out his own string of hisses in response. Goose flesh erupted over his skin at the sound.
Oblivious to his discomfort, Harry looked up at him, a small grin on his face. "You see? She's a clever girl."
"Is she?" Cedric said, feeling rather faint.
Harry frowned. "You just heard her. She can talk."
Cedric watched his friend, wondering if he was having a go at him. But the confused look on his friend's face all but confirmed Cedric suspicions: Harry was a Parselmouth, and he had no clue.
"I heard you talking to the snake," Cedric agreed slowly, trying to figure out to break the revelation to the Slytherin. "But I couldn't understand it."
Harry's mouth opened and shut as he tried to process what Cedric was saying. "I was speaking another language?" He asked in a small voice. It didn't take long for his face to crumple as he realised what Cedric was implying. Harry was quite clever, after all. "I can talk to snakes?"
"Hey, it doesn't mean anything," Cedric said, summoning all of his courage and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder again. The snake watched him with what might have been suspicion, but at least it didn't bite him. "Not if you don't want it to."
"I'm a Parselmouth," Harry stated in such a quiet voice, Cedric had to strain to hear him.
"It looks like it."
Harry's eyes darted between him and the snake, who was still sitting in his outstretched hands. "Am I evil?"
"Do you feel evil?"
"Would I know if I was?"
"I suppose not," Cedric agreed. "But Harry," he waited for Harry to look back up at him, and gave him a comforting smile. "You've managed not to murder your bullying dorm mates so far. So you must be an okay bloke."
Harry's face shone with gratitude at his words, and he let out a watery laugh. Bolstered by his friend's reaction, Cedric grinned and took a steadying breath. "So, what's your friend's name?"
"She doesn't have one yet," Harry explained. "I keep suggesting them but she hasn't found one she likes."
They spent the rest of their morning trying to come up with a suitable name for Harry's new ophidian companion. She finally settled on Medusa after Harry hissed the meaning behind the name. Apparently, she quite liked the idea of being fearsome enough to petrify people ("I bet I could catch even more mice!"). They parted ways when they arrived at the Great Hall, with the promise that Harry would talk to Professor Snape if the other First Year Slytherins were still harassing him.
Over the next month, Harry watched with amusement as the other boys tiptoed around the dormitory, flinging off bedsheets before they got in bed, and checking their bags before they stuck their hands inside. They seemed to be so worried about finding a snake that they forgot all about their hobby of harassing Harry. Though, whenever they relaxed for too long and turned their attention back to him, he made sure that Medusa was seen slithering around the baths or curled up on top of his pillow. On one memorable occasion, Peregrine Mulciber caught sight of her hanging from an emerald encrusted chandelier in the common room and had to be taken to Madam Pomfrey for a calming draught.
School became much more enjoyable after he found a way to keep the other boys in check. He still didn't say anything in classes, but his professors commented on his improvement in his practical and written work. Even Snape had stopped bullying Harry, though he began to watch him with an analytical eye. By the time the March rolled around, the abuse he suffered at the hands of his classmates was nothing more than a terrible memory. Finally, it would seem, things were starting to look up at Hogwarts, and Harry couldn't have been more relieved.
Genius Fratris
The stares began just before the Easter holidays. It wasn't much at first: glances out of the corners of their eyes, furtive peeks at the book he was reading in the Great Hall, and calculating looks when he wandered too close to a group of older Slytherins. Harry, who was used to people staring at him for his association with the Boy Who Lived, didn't notice until Cedric pointed it out. He told himself that, as long as he wasn't hexed while he walked to class, he didn't really care if people watched him. He could deal with the gawking. Merlin knew he had had enough practice.
Then came the whispers. Sure it was annoying when he could hear them hissing to each other, watching him from their table across the library. Of course he didn't like it when he walked into a room and the other Slytherins stopped talking, their pursed lips twitching as they tried to contain their gossip. This was also nothing new to Harry. People talked about him and his family all the time.
Sure, it didn't feel good when the First Years abandoned their table in the common room when he sat too close. Harry tried to remind himself that their avoidance was better than the outright hostility he had experienced the previous term. He had never been welcomed by the other members of his house, so it should hardly bother him that they wanted nothing to do with him now. And at least he got a table to himself, right?
Harry knew he shouldn't complain. Harry felt safe at school, which he couldn't have said six months ago. Who cared if the other Slytherins avoided him like he had dragon pox? Why should it matter to him when the other boys gathered on Adrian Pucey's bed with the curtains drawn shut, not even trying to hide the fact that they were discussing him?
Maybe that was why Harry found himself sneaking off to empty corners of the common room when he was supposed to be in bed. Late at night, when everyone else had long since retired, he would let Medusa slither around freely, and they shared hissed conversations. With Cedric floors above in the Hufflepuff dormitories, Medusa became Harry's chief reliance in starving off the ever-growing loneliness. Harry taught her how to fetch him small objects, and how to hide in the event that she might be discovered in his bag. They were even working on teaching her English, which was how Snape nearly discovered them just past midnight on the night before they were to return home for Easter.
"Hide," he commanded the moment he heard the entrance to the common room grind open. Harry snatched up the book he had been reading to Medusa and scrambled to his feet, casting a furtive look at his snake, who grumbled about leaving the warmth of the hearth. She slipped off into the darkness just as Snape emerged, the light from the dying fire casting grotesque shadows across his face.
The professor watched Harry with his usual calculating gaze for a moment before swooping towards him. Harry couldn't stop himself from taking a step back. Whether it was the billowing black robes or the tall, borderline skeletal figure, Severus Snape cut an intimidating figure. And Hogwarts professor or not, Harry didn't trust Snape not to chop him up and use him as potion ingredients.
"And what," he began in a low voice that sent unpleasant shivers down Harry's spine. "Are you doing out of bed?"
Heart pounding in his throat, Harry raised his book for his professor to see. Snape leaned forward and plucked the book out of his grasp, and turned it over in his hands.
"A Compendium of Snakes of the British Isles," he read aloud in a dangerously silky voice. His long, spider-like fingers began to flick through the pages before landing on the one Harry had marked. "Common European Adder."
Harry felt his stomach clench and he resisted the urge to glance back at where he had last seen Medusa.
Snape's thin lips pursed and he fixed Harry with a penetrating look. "I think you should come with me, Potter." It wasn't an invitation, and Harry had to jog to keep up with the tall man when he spun around and took off into the dungeons.
They arrived at Snape's office far too quickly for Harry's liking. He was ushered inside and instructed to sit in the lone stiff-backed chair in front of Snape's desk. Snape swept past and sat behind his desk, arranging his robes in a way that made Harry keenly aware that he was in his pyjamas and dressing gown. The Potions Master watched him through narrowed black eyes and Harry had to resist the urge to look away, lest his teacher thought he was guilty of something.
"Do you know why you are here?"
Even if he did, Harry wasn't about to incriminate himself. He shook his head and pushed his glass up his nose.
Snape hummed again, his face somehow pensive and irritated at the same time. "There have been…" he paused for dramatic effect, pinning Harry to his chair with a piercing gaze. "Rumours, Mr Potter. About yourself, naturally."
Harry mentally kicked himself for not paying a bit more attention to the gossip of his peers. It must have been bad if even Snape, who harboured an intense dislike for Harry, was getting involved. Even more so if the matter had to be addressed half past midnight. Harry attempted a nonchalant shrug, though the motion felt awkward and jerky.
Snape rolled his eyes before leaning forward, resting his elbows atop his desk. "I have received several complaints that you have been setting a snake upon your housemates," Snape began. "I assumed at first that these accusations stemmed from nothing more than petty, childish feuds. So, imagine my surprise when I learned from Madam Pomfrey this evening that you saw her for a snake bite three months ago." He paused and watched Harry, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
It would be just like the other First Year boys to blame him for the snake they let loose in their dormitory, Harry realised, setting his jaw in annoyance. He almost wished he had asked Medusa to bite the other boys; she would have greatly enjoyed taking a snap at Nettles. Well, there would be time for that later. For now, Harry straightened in his chair and fixed Snape with an annoyed (albeit far less intimidating) look of his own, and waited for the man to ask the question that caused him to seek out Harry in the middle of the night. But Snape thought Harry was going to rat himself out, he was sorely mistaken. If there was one thing that Harry was good at, it was holding his tongue.
They sat in silence for one, five, fifteen minutes, waiting, daring the other to speak first.
When a clock chimed one from somewhere in Snape's private chambers, the Potions Master let out a snarl and stood up, towering over him. "Where is the snake, Potter? I know you have one."
Harry blinked.
"Potter, you seem to be operating under the delusion that I relish being in your presence more than what is strictly necessary. I assure you this is not the case. You will tell me where you are keeping this snake or I will see to it personally that you are expelled before breakfast."
Harry had to refrain from rolling his eyes at that. Having a pet snake was hardly grounds for expulsion, venomous or no.
Professor Snape's sallow face turned bone-white as a look of pure loathing marred his already unattractive face. "Have you lost the ability to hear as well as your ability to speak? Or perhaps—"
"Do you have any proof?" Harry found himself saying.
Professor Snape watched him with a cold, unreadable expression. Harry shifted in his seat, unsure if the man before him was annoyed at being interrupted, or caught off guard after hearing his student's voice for the very first time. At least he wasn't shouting. "Proof?"
Harry nodded and something that was a mixture of panic and nervous laughter bubbled up in his chest. "It's the Slytherin common room. Why would anyone be surprised to find a snake there?" Harry cursed himself, knowing this was exactly the wrong thing to say the moment he said it. Professor Snape was not the sort of man to tolerate cheek.
If it was possible, Snape looked more enraged. "Is this a joke to you, Potter?"
Harry shook his head and shrank back into his seat.
Snape leaned forward so that his hooked nose nearly touched Harry's own. "You have a book about adders," he snapped. "Why else would you have it if you didn't have an adder of your own?"
Harry tried not to wince. That book was a bit damning. "I like animals," he whispered.
"Do you?" His tone was mocking rather than a genuine inquiry.
He considered telling him about the skeleton horses he had befriended, but knowing Snape, the man would invent a rule that made interacting with the animals an expellable offence. He settled for a firm nod instead. The Potions Master glowered at him so fiercely Harry had to bite his tongue to stop himself from confessing. If anyone was at fault in this situation, it was Nettles and his friends for setting a snake on Harry, not Harry, for befriending the snake. A book on adders and a bit of gossip wasn't proof that something was amiss in the Slytherin dormitories.
And that was the crux of the matter. Snape didn't have any proof, and he knew it.
"Get out of my sight," he snarled, tossing the book at Harry.
Harry didn't need to be told twice and scampered from Snape's office. He didn't stop running until he was back to the common room, pausing only to scoop up an impatient Medusa before tucking himself into the safety of his four-poster bed. His pulse fluttered and for a few terrifying moments, he thought his heart might burst. Harry wasn't entirely sure what had transpired in Snape's office, but he wasn't keen to repeat it anytime soon.
"Did the Smelly Man hurt you?" she asked, bopping her snout against his nose. "I will bite him for you!"
"No," Harry breathed, stroking her smooth scales. "But thank you." After explaining what had transpired to the best of his abilities (clever as Medusa was, she was still a snake), he asked what she had done in his absence. "You didn't try to eat Hera Urquart's pet rat again, did you?"
"Not this time. The vermin was in its metal nest again," she explained with a sigh.
Harry listened with half an ear as she detailed her exploits, too strung out with his encounter with Snape to comprehend what Medusa was saying. It wasn't until she described a room full of books that he was able to give her his full attention.
"Like a library?"
Medusa gave a little wriggle that Harry liked to interpret as a shrug. "It was behind the heat pit," she explained. "It was warm. We should nest there instead."
That did sound appealing, but for vastly different reasons.
"We can look into tomorrow." What was one more secret for them to discover?
'Tomorrow', however, turned out to be several months later. Between the Easter holidays, homework, finally locating the kitchens, preparations for exams, dodging his dorm mates, exams, and several dozen chunks of meat for the skeleton horses, the secret library behind the wall had more or less slipped his mind. It wasn't until June, after Madam Pince banned him from the library for an entire day ("It's much too sunny out for you to be in here," she had snapped, ushering him into the corridor. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought he had seen her smile.), that he even remembered the possibility of a secret library hidden in the Slytherin common room. Cedric, who was torn between being bored by the prospect of finding another library and the excitement of discovering another of the castle's secrets, was enlisted to help him locate the entrance.
They began by lurking in the corridors outside of the Slytherin common room, hoping to find a hidden door or secret passageway that might lead to the hidden library. All they found was a dusty broom cupboard and two older students in a compromising position. After that particularly scaring incident, it became clear that they would need to focus their attention on the common room itself. So at nights, after everyone had gone to bed, Harry would sneak down and let Cedric into the common room. The two spent countless hours scouring every nook and cranny, trying to find the secret entrance Medusa had used. The snake herself was remarkably unhelpful in their search. When she wasn't sleeping on the hearth, she would disappear through tiny cracks they had no hope in fitting through, only to return hours later, covered in dust and with a full belly. Try as they might, there were no marks on the stone walls or trick books that led into a hidden room to be found.
On the eve of their separation, the two friends decided to forgo their investigation and enjoy each other's company one last time. Despite having to be up in a few hours to catch the Hogwarts Express, neither boy felt inclined to retire to their respective beds. They sprawled out on their stomachs in front of the crackling fire in the Slytherin common room, surrounded by sweets and snacks they had pilfered from the kitchens and debated the merits of whose home would be the easiest to visit. Cedric, who had warmed up considerably to Medusa, demanded visitation rights for the adder.
"Dad doesn't like it when we leave the manor," Harry explained after Cedric proposed exploring the small muggle village near his house in Devon. "Even if he allowed me to come 'round to yours, he wouldn't allow me to wander around a village unsupervised."
Cedric hummed, chewing on a Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Bean pensively. "Potter Manor sounds dead boring though," he replied. "No offence."
Harry shrugged. He wasn't wrong. "I suppose we could always—"
But what the two boys could do, he never said. Instead, Harry pushed himself up and crawled towards the fire, the light glinting off his glasses. Curious, Cedric followed suit, squinting as he tried to find what had piqued his friend's interest. It took him a moment to find it, and Cedric marvelled at Harry's keen eye. Because at the back of the fireplace, buried under thick layers of soot, was a small carving a snake. Harry reached forward, as if in a trance, and Cedric had to dive for his friend's wrist before he could stick his hand in the flames.
"Medusa said that the room was on the other side of the 'heat pit'," Harry whispered, shooting his snake a considering look. He spat out something in Parseltongue that Cedric couldn't follow, but assumed was a question of some sort. But before he could ask for a translation, there was a quiet whoosh, and the back of the fireplace disappeared.
"What did you say?" Cedric asked, a wide grin splitting his face.
"I asked her if she could find a way to open it," he replied, his voice dazed.
"Wicked," he breathed. "Do you think you have to ask it in Parseltongue?"
The question took Harry by surprise. "It would make sense," he agreed slowly. "Especially if Slytherin built it."
"We're in the Slytherin common room. I doubt Helga Hufflepuff put it here." He ducked Harry's swat to the head and crawled closer to the fireplace. "But how do we get through the fire?"
Harry glanced around the room before his eyes landed on the pitcher of pumpkin juice a house elf had provided them. He tossed the remaining beverage on the fir, which hissed and spluttered out, leaving the two first years in semidarkness. Ignoring Cedric's pouts that his solution wasn't 'nearly dramatic enough,' Harry inched towards the smouldering remains of the fire and squinted through the darkened opening.
"Wands out, do you reckon?" Cedric asked, his shoulder brushing up against Harry's. Together, they lit their wands and hopped over the steaming grate, hearts pounding with anticipation.
They were not disappointed. They stepped out of a marble fireplace that was even grander than the one in the Slytherin common room. Towering bookcases lined the walls, their tops disappearing into the dark, cavernous ceiling. A magnificent desk with carved snakes for legs stood at the centre of the room, upon which neatly aligned silver instruments glittered in the wandlight. Even the floor they stood on was a work of art, comprised of thousands of tiles arranged to look like the night sky. It was elegant and ostentatious in a way only something associated with Slytherin could be.
"I think this was Slytherin's private study," Harry murmured, gravitating towards the bookshelf, which was lined with thick leather-bound tomes and ornate scrolls. Fascinated, Harry slid a scroll out of its spot and settled into a nearby settee.
Cedric peered over his shoulder and frowned. "Can you read that?"
"It's written in ancient Greek," Harry replied, sounding out the foreign runes. "It's a different dialect though. Western, I think?"
"You know Greek?"
"Uncle Remus was an amazing tutor," Harry explained with a shrug.
Harry heard Cedric mutter something about 'stupid rich blighters,' but didn't pay him much mind. He would have poured over the scroll all night if Cedric had let him, only rising after Cedric reminded him that they still had to catch the train in a few hours. They made their way back towards the fireplace, and a hissed command opened the doorway once more. Harry cast a final, longing glance towards the study before stepping back into the Slytherin common room, where Cedric was already waiting, the Invisibility Cloak in his hands.
"We shouldn't tell anybody about this," Harry said, not sure how to articulate his thoughts. By all accounts, he should march straight up to Dumbledore's office and share their find. The books could be moved to the school library where generations to come could learn from Slytherin's resources. It would be selfish not to share, to horde the knowledge he had no real claim over other than being a Parseltongue and a Slytherin.
But he didn't. Because it was theirs. It was a secret that had forged a bond between the two boys, intertwining their lives and cementing their friendship. From it rose a brotherhood, and to let anyone in on that felt like a momentous betrayal.
Harry wished he could say what was on his mind, but the words escaped him, dying on his tongue before they even had the chance to form. But words weren't necessary with Cedric, who gave him a toothy grin, his dark grey eyes dancing with delight, because he understood.
"It will still be here next term," Cedric reminded him. He tossed the cloak over the two of them and together they set off towards the Hufflepuff common room.
"A ship in harbor is safe — but that is not what ships are built for." — John A. Shedd
A/N: I feel like not much happens in this chapter on the surface. This chapter was necessary, though, because I felt like it showed development in Harry's character. Many people have mentioned to me (including a former beta who got fed up with Harry), that Harry is incredibly passive. And they aren't wrong. Harry was traumatised at a young age and grew up in an environment where he was never challenged to overcome it. He's shy and scared and not sure what to do in a lot of social situations. But as his first year progresses, he starts to come out of his shell and figure out who he is as a person. For someone who is anxious, that can be a terrifying thing to do. So, whilst he might not yet have slain a basilisk, he's accomplished something that still takes a lot of courage and effort to do. Let me know what you thought of the chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it! -CheckAlexa
