I don't own Hellsing or Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money from this.

The next few weeks saw the first traces of the blood message's warning being played out.

During the first Quiddich game of the season, Harry got his arm broken by a rogue bludger. Someone had tampered with it to make it attack him. Amazingly, he was still able to catch the snitch in his condition. Once the game was over, all the Gryffindors ran onto the pitch to see if he was alright. Lockhart pushed through the crowds and took it upon himself to 'heal' his injury. But the man's idea of fixing Harry's arm was to completely remove the bone from it. The boy wound up having to stay in the hospital wing for two days while Madam Pomfrey gave him doses of a potion that would grow the bones back. Harry claimed the house elf who had first shown up at his house over the summer popped up again, revealing that he was the one who had cursed the bludger. It sounded like the creature was dead set on getting Harry to leave school, though it wouldn't tell him why.

It was during that time that the first attack on a student took place. Colin Creevy was a first year Gryffindor who was known for his annoying habit of taking pictures of everyone and everything. What he planned to do with all of them, no one knew. He seemed to be fascinated with the idea of developing the photographs in a certain potion that would make the images move. He was found petrified in one of the second floor hallways, his ever present camera still clasped in front of his face as if he were in the middle of capturing something on film. Harry saw Dumbledore and McGonagall bring him into the hospital wing. When he was finally released, he revealed something the others found shocking.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" Hermione asked. "Are you sure that's what Dumbledore said?"

Harry nodded. "I'm sure of it." he replied, then looked around the common room and lowered his voice. "They said if things get much worse, they'll have to close down the school."

Oh my God, Constance thought. That would be terrible. This place was a home away from home. She couldn't imagine how things would be if it were shut down.

In the midst of all of this, she began noticing that the trio were spending less and less time with her. They didn't really treat her any differently, but they disappeared randomly and would stay gone for hours on end. When she found them again, they came up with conveniently constructed excuses that had obviously been made up. Connie imagined they were up to something to try to find out more about the Chamber, but she didn't know how she felt about being left out of it. For the time being, she decided the best thing to do was let sleeping dogs lie. If she thought about it, she couldn't really fault them for it. She kept plenty of secrets herself. She just hoped they weren't keeping something from her because they thought she would screw it up. The thought of that was... she couldn't even bear to think about it.

With the three of them off doing whatever the hell they were doing so much, she found herself spending a lot more time with Fred and George. They'd finally broken down and asked her to work with them on potions. It seemed that their long stent of detention with Snape had gotten through their heads that they needed to do better in class. Constance quickly discovered that there were subtle differences in their personalities that affected the way they worked. George was the calmer of the two. He would actually sit still and pay attention for long periods of time without making a fuss about it. Fred was more rambunctious. He paid attention and did the work, but after a while he'd get start getting bored. Both of them were a lot smarter than they let on, but when you put the two of them together they would inevitably distract each other – unless it was something they both had a vested interest in. Maybe if they'd split up more often in their classes, their grades would be better. She mentioned it to them, but both of them bristled at the thought. The twins were a pair. You couldn't separate one from the other. Not to mention they had a thing for confusing the hell out of people by switching up who answered to which name. They both thought it was freaky that Constance could always tell them apart.

"How do you do that?" Fred asked one afternoon as they were sitting around going over notes for class. "Even our mom can't tell us apart most of the time."

The girl shrugged. "You're not really identical." she replied.

They both blinked at her. "Say what?" George asked.

"You don't look the same." she told them, then reached out a finger to poke Fred's nose. "You have a freckle right here that George doesn't have." She glanced over at George himself. "And you have a small spot on the inside of your left ear that Fred doesn't have. That's how I know who is who."

"Huh." they both said. "You actually notice things like that?"

She gave them a look. "I'm very observant."

Fred looked thoughtful for a long moment. "You know, I think I could work with this. I've always said that I was the better looking of the two of us."

George's mouth dropped open. "You are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

Connie couldn't believe she was actually watching two boys argue over who looked better. It was kind of funny. After that, they pretty much stopped trying to confuse her all the time. Once she'd given her explanation, they realized the attempt was futile. They still acted like they thought it was a bit weird, but at least the issue was dropped.

So on it went for days, until all the students received a notice that they were required to attend some kind of dueling lesson. Constance thought it might be an interesting thing to learn how to do until she saw who the teacher was. Bloody Lockhart. He never gave up, did he?

He had taken over one of the long tables in the Great Hall so that everyone could see and hear what he had to show them. Connie had no interest in seeing anything other than him being hit with some kind of spell that would permanently shut his mouth. But once everyone was assembled and paying attention, Lockhart told them that Professor Snape had agreed to assist in giving a demonstration of how dueling was done. As soon as the Potions Master stepped up onto the table, she paid close attention. This was definitely something she wanted to witness. Mihnea was standing right behind her. He nudged her shoulder as the two men faced each other and drew their wands.

"Snape's going to hand his ass to him." he whispered.

Yes. Yes he was, and it would be a beautiful sight to see. When the duel began, Snape cast a spell before Lockhart could even open his mouth. The man was knocked backwards a good six feet and landed on the flat of his back. Connie had to suppress the urge to start clapping. God knows she'd get in trouble for it. If the teachers didn't get her, the female students would gang up to kick her ass.

That one hit was enough to make Lockhart decide it was best for the students to duel each other. None of them knew a thing about what they were supposed to do. They were simply separated into pairs and told to go at it. Of course, with the partners they were given, very few wound up using magic. Mihnea was paired with a Ravenclaw boy who was terrified of him. When he pulled out his wand, the boy squeaked in a panic and ran away. Hermione was assigned to Millicent Bulstrode, a stumpy looking Slytherin girl in their year. The two of them only fired off two spells at each other before falling to the floor in a violent hair pulling contest. Hermione seemed to be winning too. She managed to yank out a handful of the girl's hair. Constance had to face down a Slytherin as well. A boy named Blaise Zabini. He was one of Draco's friends and apparently a sharer in his opinions and beliefs. When she raised her wand, he sneered at her like he thought she was scum.

"Just what do you think you're going to do to me, muggle lover?" he spat.

Oh, hell no he didn't! Constance decided she didn't need magic to kick his sorry ass. She dropped her wand on the floor, then rared back her fist and punched him in the face. He hit the floor and rolled, clutching at his bloody nose. She'd hit him just right to break it. He got back up, furious she had actually dared to physically attack him. He raised his arm like he was going to hit her back, but she ducked and jerked her knee up into his crotch. That pretty much put an end to the fight. He cried like a baby and crawled backwards before she could figure out how to do something worse to him.

"You've lost control of your students." Snape said, giving Lockhart a look that spoke volumes of what he thought of him. "Perhaps you should put a stop to this before they all kill each other."

Lockhart suddenly looked nervous. "Uh... what an excellent suggestion, Professor Snape!" he peered around at the students surrounding the table. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley!"

Before either of the boys had a chance to move or speak, Snape's voice interrupted. "Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest of spells. We'll be carting Potter off the hospital wing in a matchbox."

The professor actually had a good point. With the way Ron's wand was acting all weird now, there was no guarantee it would do what he wanted. But Connie couldn't for the life of her understand the replacement he had in mind. Snape dragged Draco up to duel Harry instead. For someone who suggested stopping all the students from dueling so they wouldn't kill each other, the Potions Master didn't seem too concerned with matching up bitter enemies. Snape pulled Draco to his end of the table to give him instructions. Lockhart did the same with Harry, but it was clear his weren't going to be very helpful.

"Alright Mr. Potter." he said. "Now, all you have to do is use your disarming spell with this wand motion." he demonstrated a wonky looking motion that nearly made him toss his wand across the room.

When Snape pushed Malfoy forward to begin the duel, the boy looked intent on doing as much damage as possible. Harry took half a step back.

"Uh... professor? How do you do that wand motion again?"

"Harry!" Constance hissed from the floor. "Just point it at him!"

He'd wind up getting himself hurt or worse if he did what Lockhart told him to do. The two boys shot spells at each other, both getting a good hit in. When Draco went flying down the table, Snape immediately grabbed him by the collar to jerk him up, then roughly pushed him forward. The blonde boy then cast a spell that sent a cobra soaring from the tip of his wand. Jesus Christ! This had turned into something much more serious than a simple duel. A cobra was poisonous enough to kill someone...

But Harry... Harry didn't look the least bit afraid of the snake. He stepped toward it and made this weird hissing noise. He sounded just like a bloody snake himself. The cobra turned it's head and focused on a Hufflepuff boy at the front. Connie didn't know his last name, but she'd heard others call him Justin. The snake wobbled, looking like it was about to strike. Harry just kept hissing at it until it lowered it's head.

Everyone was staring. Even Snape looked completely flabbergasted. While the snake was in a less lethal position, he pointed his wand at it and cast a spell to make it disintegrate into ash.

"What are you on about?" Justin demanded, then stepped back as if he were afraid. "Think you're funny, do you?"

Something really odd had just occurred, and Connie couldn't figure out why everyone was suddenly acting like Harry was the spawn of Satan.

"You're a Parselmouth!" Ron demanded once they were back in their common room. "Why didn't you say anything!"

Poor Harry just looked confused. "A parsel-what?"

"You can talk to snakes!" Hermione exclaimed.

The boy blinked. "Well, yeah. I accidentally sicked one on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once, but that was the only time before now. If I hadn't told that snake to get away from Justin..."

"Is that what you were doing?" Ron asked.

"What, you couldn't hear what I was saying?" Harry asked, still bewildered.

"I heard you speaking parseltongue. No one could understand what you were saying. It looked like..." the ginger headed boy stopped.

Hermione looked at him, then cleared her throat. "It looked like you were egging the snake on or something."

Harry looked like he didn't know what to think. All of them knew he would never make a venomous snake attack someone, but the way it appeared was damning. He took a deep breath.

"I didn't know..." he began. "But... I mean, there has to be tons of wizards who talk to snakes. I'll bet loads of people here can do it."

Personally, Connie hadn't heard of anyone who could talk to snakes. At least not with a special language. Hermione and Ron looked... well... unnerved by the whole thing.

"Harry," Hermione said carefully. "Speaking parseltongue is a rare gift. It's..." she paused. "There's a reason why Slytherin's mascot is a snake. Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth too. It's one of the things he was known for."

Crap on toast, so that's why everyone in the Great Hall looked terrified of Harry when he started hissing like a snake. The boy looked amongst them, taking in their expressions and discerning what they meant.

"There's no way." he said slowly. "The hat put me in Gryffindor. There's no way I'm the heir of Slytherin!"

The bushy headed girl gave him a serious look. "He lived more than a thousand years ago, Harry. For all we know, you could be."

Harry brooded over it for days. All the students in the castle avoided him like the plague and shot dirty looks at his back when he walked past. It was terrible to see him go through it. He struggled with the idea that his rare talent marked him as possibly being the one that was sending a monster out to attack muggle-borns. Constance knew what it was like to be judged for something you couldn't help, so when she found a moment where he was alone, she went to go talk to him. The boy had holed up in a corner of the common room while everyone else was outside enjoying the weekend. She picked an armchair across from him and sat down.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

He was holding his head in his hands like he had a headache. She knew better than to think it was just that. He glanced at her through his fingers.

"Everyone thinks I'm a dark wizard now." he said. "That I'm evil because I can talk to snakes. Ron and Hermione act different around me now."

It was true, she thought. Though they knew he couldn't be responsible for the events that had taken place since the chamber was opened, they still struggled with the perception of what Harry being a parselmouth implied. People were being a lot snottier to them than usual just because they were his friends.

"They'll come around." she told him. "I think they were just shocked by it."

He snorted like he didn't believe that for a second. "Right. You probably think I'm evil now too."

She gave a start. She'd never done anything that would make someone think that.

"I do not think you're evil!" she said forcefully. "I think you're the same person you've always been. Being able to speak a certain language doesn't change who you are."

He finally raised his head to look at her straight on. "Do you really believe that?"

"Yes, I do." she replied. "Just because something is associated with evil things doesn't mean it's evil itself. Just that evil things use it more often. Have you ever considered that being a parselmouth could be a good thing? You were able to stop the snake from going after Justin. You wouldn't have been able to do that if you couldn't talk to it. And even if, on some off chance, you are related to Salazar Slytherin, what does it matter? You can't choose your relatives. One bad person in your family doesn't mean that everyone in it is bad." she paused half a moment. "Everyone is afraid because they want an explanation for what's happening. You happen to have a trait that Slytherin had, so it's easier to dump everything on you rather than use their brains to figure out who it really is. If people can't look past the parselmouth thing and see you for who you really are, then you shouldn't be worried about what they think anyway. Screw them."

Harry blinked at her, then gave her a small smile. It was half-hearted and it was obvious he still felt torn about the issue, but at least he could find it in himself to smile.

"Thank you." he said.

Constance nodded. "I'm not just saying things to make you feel better. I really mean it." she told him. "You're my friend. If something like this happened to me, I would hope you'd be able to return the gesture."

"I can't imagine something like this happening to you." he replied. "But if it ever does, yeah, I'd do the same."

God, he would be surprised if he knew half of the things she kept hidden from all of them. But it was nice to hear someone say that. She got up from her seat.

"Are you finished with your pity party yet?" she asked him. "It's a weekend. Get your cloak and come outside."

He moved to wave her off. "Thanks, but I think I'd rather stay here."

Connie planted her hands on her hips. This just wouldn't do. "Don't make me hurt you, Harry Potter. Did you hear what I did to Zabini? I have no problem doing it again if I have to."

Harry visibly winced. "Personally, I think I'd prefer if you just punched me. I don't think I could handle the rest."

Oh right. She'd given the snotty Slytherin boy a solid knee to the balls. She was surprised Harry had seen her do it. But then, Zabini was probably hobbling around like a penguin now, so it wouldn't be difficult to figure out how he wound up that way. She reached down and grabbed him by the arm to pull him up.

"Harry, get your lazy butt up, put on your cloak, and come outside with me." she ordered. "Ron and the twins challenged Hermione and I to a snowball fight and it wouldn't be right for two girls to take them down on our own. We need a third person with us to make them feel better about losing. Give us girls a little help, would you?"

That definitely got his attention. When he realized what she said, Harry grinned and let out a laugh. He looked like his old self again.

"Okay, okay." he told her. "I'm coming."

A.N: I'm pretty sure Constance was taught the 'kneeing a guy in the balls' thing during one of her lessons in advanced political negotiation. Cause, you know, if you ever needed someone to agree with you right quick and in a hurry, I believe that might be the fastest way. At the very least it would force them to keep their mouths shut and drop out of the conversation entirely.

Zabini: Oh... my future children have been murdered...

Constance: Shut your mouth unless you want more where that came from.

Zabini: ~squeaks and runs/hobbles away~