Disclaimer's in the prologue.
Harry had been in the Potions Master's laboratory since after lunch to about eight A.M, preparing ingredients then had started brewing a Swelling Solution, the potion that Professor Snape would be teaching in the next class. The potions still needed an hour to brew so the Potions Master gave him snacks while he, Snape, grades and scrutinizes the essays that his students submitted.
Harry was just scanning everything in the room when Professor Snape called for his attention.
"Yes Sir?" he replied.
"Have you anything in mind on what kind of potion you want?" Professor Snape asked. "Apart from turning Wolfsbane into Wolvescure."
"Well, I have this idea that I got from a muggle drug that I know." He replied.
"And what might that be?"
"Well it's called Methylphenidate, or at least the drug is like Ritalin." he began to explain. "It sort of helps the person become more focused. It's actually a medicine for people with ADHD and it's illegal for those who do not have a prescription."
"I see." Professor Snape said quietly. "I think we already have that here."
"You mean the Wit-Sharpening Potion sir, is that correct?" He enquired and his Professor nodded. "It doesn't quite work like that sir, not as far as I know considering that I have tried neither before." he paused. "But, I think that the difference between the two is that the wit-sharpening potion doesn't have such...adverse effects like Methylphenidate, although Methylphenidate is much more effective and it lasts longer than the Wit-Sharpening Potion."
"Tell me about those adverse effects you speak off." Professor Snape said.
"Well Sir you know, with our potions, if we become addicted to it, if we keep using it chronically, there will come a time when it will no longer work. Well as for Methylphenidate, apart from it might no longer work, overdose can also cause you depression, anxiety, I forgot the other things, and even...death. I suppose you're going to discourage me from inventing such a potion aren't you sir?"
Professor Snape suddenly stopped writing on the parchments then he stood up and approached him while taking something from one of the pockets of his robe. He held out a crystal vial with a white liquid inside of it that looks like ammonia after a distillation process with water.
"All potions," Professor Snape said, looking down at him from a standing position, "no matter how dangerous or how superfluous as it seems are always useful and not a waste of time to invent."
"Is that an example of what you're telling me?" he asked.
"Indeed." Professor Snape replied as he handed him the vial. "Know what it is?"
Harry examined it. "Clear liquid, might be mistaken for Veritaserum or water," he opened the lid of the vial, after asking Professor Snape's permission of course, and sniffed it. "No I don't know what this is, it has odour and neither water nor Veritaserum has one...it smells a bit like...wine."
"It does indeed." The Professor said, taking back the vial. "The unfortunate imbecile who might mistake this for wine because it smells like one discharging the fact that it is in a potions vial meaning it is a potion and not wine shall experience a slow and painful death." Well, it was plain obvious that the potion is an example of one those that are dangerous.
Slowly and painfully is a very gruesome way to die, though some people deserve to die that way, Harry thought, and one of those people is Lord Voldemort, if you can even dare call Voldemort a person. Though, Harry was thinking, he doesn't know why his Professor showed him that particular invention of his.
"How does it do that slow and painful thing?" he asked out of curiosity as to how it will become slow and painful after imbibing it. He has a guess though that it will be like parasites eating you from the inside.
"Parasites in liquid, it destroys you from the inside. Slow because it will take about sixty-two hours before it pass through your whole body." The potions master said with satisfaction. "Though the dunderhead who would dare to drink this would probably die in an hour or so."
"I'm guessing the aroma of wine is just for show, to trick the drinker."
"Yes it is, as you say, just for show but since not everybody drinks wine this potion can be mixed with other liquids."
"All types of potable liquids?" he inquired.
"No." the Potions Master said, going back to his desk.
"What liquids can it not be mixed then, Sir?"
"That," Professor Snape paused as if he was thinking about something, "you shall have figure out on your own, I will give you the list of ingredients that is used in this potion and you figure it out."
Harry nodded. A few moments later after they stopped chatting, Harry, followed by the Potions Master to see his work, went back to the lab to finish the Swelling Solution.
He added a bat spleen to the cauldron then stirred it for four times. He turned on the heat then meticulously timed it, he turned it off after thirty seconds, and finally just a wave of his wand and the solution turned out to be perfect. His teacher examined it closely then after about five minutes, instructed him to put it in the vials.
"Come along now Evandrus, the match will be in half an hour." Harry frowned. He really wasn't looking forward to the game. He has no idea why people like playing that game even when many players are getting injured because of it, sure the last person who died because of Quidditch was centuries ago but still, it still meant that there is a possibility that you'll die. No matter how low the probability is, it is still a probability.
"You are to watch the game." The Potions Master said, or more like ordered, to him. "Slytherin is playing and I do not want a rift between my students."
Harry huffed causing the Potions Master to raise an eyebrow at him. "Tell that to Macnair, Sir, I support Slytherin house because it is my house," And it is the house of my ancestor was left unsaid, "Students like Macnair are the ones who give our house a bad name."
"I could not help but agree with you," Professor Snape said. "Nevertheless, I still want you to watch it, Macnair is not the only one in the team and I daresay you are in good terms with Mr. Flint." Then they both went to the Quidditch field. Harry went to the Slytherin stands while the Professor went with his co-workers to the Professor stands.
"Harry over here!" Theo was waving at a distance a bit farther from the exit of the stands. There were two empty seats and now he occupied one of it. The other one must be for Draco, speaking of him, he still wasn't there but his minions, Crabbe and Goyle were. The world must be entering the apocalypse stage, Harry thought as his Godfather wasn't present for the match, and even Draco wasn't around yet.
"Hello Harry." Crabbe greeted him.
"Hello Vincent," he greeted back.
"You've done it?" Harry heard Theo questioned Draco who had just returned. "Excellent!" his friend exclaimed when Draco nodded.
"What are you two up to?" he asked them suspiciously. The two just looked at each other then refused to say anything when Crabbe spoke.
"They're going to shoot -"
"Shut it Crabbe!" Draco hissed.
" - fireworks up in the sky to piss off Kevin." Harry wondered for a second who 'Kevin' was, until remembering that that is Macnair's given name.
"So much for it being a surprise." Theo muttered while Draco was glaring daggers at Crabbe who seemed unfazed by it.
"Don't be overly dramatic, Theo." he told his friend. "Apart from Vincent and me, nobody knows about it yet. You should've told me you'd do that, I'd help."
Theo blinked at him in surprise. "You would?" He nodded.
"See I told you he would." Theo chided Draco but their blonde friend wasn't listening instead he was counting down from thirty.
"4...3...2...1...0!" Something shot from the back of the stands and struck through the air at almost exactly the same time that the players flew.
The players were stunned and just sat still on their brooms as they watched a big, bigger than last year, sparkling green and silver lion prancing around making out the phrase 'Potter For the Win!' it flashed then another phrase appeared 'Macnair For the Lose!' one more flash then at the bottom it printed smaller sized phrase 'From: Slytherin T & D'. Harry wondered why they have to put their initials on it. Macnair was now looking, most probably glaring, from a distance at Theo and Draco who were smiling like idiots and even taunting Macnair with irritating smiles and mouthing 'Loser'.
"Any plans when he tries to hex the two of you into oblivion?" Harry asked his friends.
"Oh yeah of course, there's always a plan." Draco said confidently. "Plan A: Run towards a teacher, preferably McGonagall because she has an obvious dislike for Macnair." McGonagall's dislike for the older boy was clear because Macnair, besides being a nasty looking chap, has a nasty character and is very disrespectful even to teachers.
"He tries to hex us in front of her, he gets detention or, even better, he gets expelled."
"Plan B?" He inquired further.
"I'll tell my Father to tell Macnair's Father to bugger off." Draco said cockily, if his friend was serious about that or not, Harry chose not to ask.
"And evading our Head of House?"
"No plan there, he'll see through it anyway," Theo answered, "though I think it's safe to say that we're going to be joining the jars in his classroom after today." Theo pointed his finger at a distance and turns out that their head of house was looking at their direction. Draco and Theo shared a glance with each other before shrugging.
He shuddered to think what would've happened if those two turned out to be Gryffindors and join Lars in his pranks. It would seem like a new generation of Marauders.
Harry shook the thought away from his head and focused on the game which had already started. The Gryffindor team looks like they are going to lose if Lars did not get a hold on that snitch, because the Slytherin team have a higher score, a hundred for Slytherin while only thirty for Gryffindor.
That wasn't the only thing, there's a bludger following Lars wherever he went.
"MACNAIR YOU BLOODY DOLT GRAB THE BLOODY SNITCH!" Higgs yelled in frustration because Macnair, instead of keeping an eye out for the golden snitch, which was flying just near him as of the moment, seemed to keep taunting and taunting Lars.
"Ooh, that was close for Lawrence." Theo said after Lars was nearly hit by the bludger. Oliver Wood, unfortunately, got his broom hit and again he's out cold on the ground of the Quidditch field.
Harry, with the help of Theo, gazed around each person that they can see to check if someone is jinxing the bludger but alas they found none. Macnair Sr., as suspicious as he was because he is nasty fellow, will not do that while in the presence of the Headmaster.
Harry wanted to use his magic and blow up the bludger. He can do it with ease if it's just blasting the violent ball, but the only problem is that the blasted thing kept on moving in no exact direction considering that it was just following Lars' trail. As he much as he wants to, he couldn't risk his magic missing the bludger and hitting some other person (If he's sure that it'll hit Macnair Sr. he'd probably go along with it).
"I shouldn't be happy that there's a huge possibility that we will lose this game, not to mention I'll lose nearly fifty galleons." Theo said with a dramatic sigh but then laughed all of a sudden. "But seeing him fall off his broom is good enough for me!" Macnair lost control of his broom while chasing the snitch when he and Lars continuously bumped each other, determined to have one fall off. Harry had to say, his brother has guts to play rough with Macnair considering that he's a Gryffindor and, normally, they'll be as fair as they possibly can.
Harry's eyes widened all of a sudden Lars' right arm was hit by the bludger while reaching for the snitch, but being the daring Gryffindor that his brother is, he grabbed the snitch with the left hand and fell off the broom and consequently winning the first game of the season.
Harry immediately ran off the stands and was followed by Theo and Draco again. The other students, who were supporters of Gryffindor House, headed towards there as well.
Drawing his wand while running to the field, he pointed it at the bludger and casted "Finite Incantatem!" before immediately kneeling down beside his brother, who looks to be in extreme pain. This game can really kill someone. Imagine if the bludger hit his brother's head then broke the bones in it.
"Thanks brother." Lars said gratefully.
"Don't worry Lars I'll fix that arm of yours straight away." Lockhart boastfully said, kneeling by Lars' other side.
"Oh no, not you." Lars protested, looking horrified. Harry stood up after giving Lockhart a glare and a warning not to do anything stupid.
"Hagrid," he called for the half-giant's attention "could you please -" He trailed off when he heard Lockhart insisting on healing Lars. Before he got back to his brother's side, the idiot had already finished the incantation 'Brackiam Emendo', whatever the spell is.
Harry gritted his teeth and looked murderously at Lockhart. The man held Lars' arm that no longer has any bones to it anymore.
"Well, the point is you can no longer feel any pain and clearly the bones are not broken." Lockhart said, trying to placate the situation.
"NOT BROKEN!" Lars yelled angrily before he could say something. "You made all my bones disappear you bloody twit!" Everybody gaped at Lars who looked sheepish at his sudden outburst. Who could fault his brother anyway?
Hagrid carried Lars and brought him to the hospital wing to be tended to by Madame Pomfrey.
"You should have come straight to me!" she raged after seeing Lars' arm then went to get a potion. Harry was patiently listening to Lars' continuous mutter about pretentious, fraudulent and incompetent teachers.
"Well I do hope you're referring to that imbecile." Madame Pomfrey said while she was giving Lars half a glass of Skelegrow, a nasty tasting potion.
"Drink up Mr. Potter." Madame Pomfrey said.
"I really, really, really, REALLY, hate that man." Lars grumbled before he drank then immediately spit out the potion "Yuck!"
"Well what do you expect pumpkin juice?"
Harry asked Madame Pomfrey to pour another glass and he handed it to his brother.
"Drink it or it gets shoved down your throat." he told his brother who was looking at the glass with disgust, apparently thinking of refusing another glass. "Bottom's up." Lars drank it all in one go and looked sick afterwards.
"Here," he handed his brother a piece of mint candy. "It'll take away the nasty flavour."
"Why can't you just put flavours on the whole potion?" Weasley questioned. Granger is about to answer when he beat her to it.
"Because it will ruin the potion you twit, if you even bothered to listen in class or at least read your notes you'll probably know that, you pathetic excuse for a pureblood." Harry said in annoyance. He was still irked by the fact that somebody is trying to harm his brother again in a Quidditch match.
"You are so rude Harry!" Granger said to him irritably while he just raised an eyebrow at her. "He was just asking, no need to be rude."
"Not my problem if you people thought it's rude." He bit back. Granger huffed before stomping out of the infirmary with Weasley.
"Harry, that was very out of line." Lars said, looking serious.
Harry hummed, maybe he was out of line but thinking about Weasley's feeling is not in his priorities, then again thinking about people's feeling was rarely in his priorities but nevertheless.
"Yes, it was." he admitted. "But anyway, he should stop asking questions that any wizard who grew up in a wizard household would know." His brother had no answer to that.
"I wonder who's trying to kill you now." he said, changing the subject.
Lars sighed heavily. "I just can't catch a break can I?"
"You being who you are means danger already brother." he commented before peering around then casting a privacycharm around them. "Have you convinced them yet?"
"About the polyjuice? No," Lars replied. "She said if we're going to use bugs, we still need to have entry in your dungeons and into Macnair's room, that and she doesn't have any recorder at home, she said that it was way outdated." Apparently, even when he's the one who suggested it two-thirds of the golden trio do not trust him. Oh well, he'll just have to deal with it.
"I think I can help with that...I'll have..." He trailed off when the door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see his brother. He sneered a little. Those packs of lions have no sense of decency, they didn't even bother changing their clothes first before heading to the infirmary, but they did bother bringing some sweets with them. How very...uncouth.
Harry silently slipped out of the infirmary after giving a nod to his brother and cancelling the charm with a snap of his fingers.
Harry bumped into Weasley on his way out. After a staring contest, he said "I apologize for earlier Weasley." Weasley gaped a little at that. "What I said was a bit out of line." He bowed his head for a little bit then sneered when he raised it back up. "Close your mouth Weasley, you're having a resemblance to a guppie fish at feeding time." And then he left. If ever Weasley tells anyone that he apologized, he'll vehemently deny it.
"That was a nice match wasn't it?" Draco said with a grin as Harry took a seat across him inside the Slytherin common room. "The best part was Macnair falling off his broom, I didn't know your brother plays rough Harry, speaking of which, how's your brother faring?" Harry had a feeling that Draco has a serious dislike for Macnair. He noticed that even before Draco started hanging out with them, the blonde never paid any attention to anything that Macnair says, and would just usually snap at the older boy.
"He's fine," he replied to Draco. Lars is just probably planning to murder Lockhart. His brother's mountain of reasons to absolutely loath Lockhart increased because what happened earlier at the match. If that pretentious man and very poor excuse for a Professor hadn't gone on and tried to heal his brother's bones, even if all were pretty sure that he can't, Lars would not be staying at the hospital wing having the bones in his arm grow back.
"Where's Theo by the way?"
"Quarters, probably reading the book I bought." Harry remembered that Draco lost the bet with Theo again for the second month. It was a laughing stock of the whole class for the whole period. Even Professor Snape, who rarely smiles, looked like he was about to when the other students laughed at Draco's hair. During the first month it was red and gold, and then the second month, Lars improvised to make it rainbow colours.
He was curious though on how on earth did the pureblood buy a muggle book.
"How'd you get to buy it?"
"Blaise," Draco answered. "Madame Zabini doesn't really dislike muggles as you know, so she really didn't ask when I had Blaise buy the first volume of the book...oh by the way did you know that Uncle Severus," He raised his eyebrow at Draco when the blonde called their Professor 'Uncle' "he's my Godfather...so anyway, so him...he didn't get angry after the game, though he did confront us that we should have used Gryffindor colors and we shouldn't have signed our name."
"I agree," he said.
"No, no," Draco was shaking his head. "That would destroy the principle of the thing I mean we purposely did that. Surely Macnair would be more riled up if the vote of diffidence came from his own housemates."
"I see." he said quietly. "But next time, if you want to sign your work so badly, I suggest that you use your middle names."
"That's what Uncle Severus said." Draco remarked. "So it's 'L' then? My middle name's Lucius, what's yours by the way?"
"Severin." he replied and Draco had this 'you're kidding' look sculpted on his face.
"You don't like Macnair very much." Harry stated after a few minutes that a barrier of silence was formed. "Why is that?"
Draco looked at him oddly for asking that particular question but answered anyway. "Well, Macnair, I just don't like him. I never have, and probably never will. Call me odd but, I have this feeling that he's the type of person who'll abandon you when you are no use to them." Of all the answers he was expecting from Draco, this clearly didn't cross his mind.
"Right..." he drawled."With the way you said that, you sound like you're not that type of person."
Draco opened his mouth then closed it again, looking a bit appalled at what he said. "You think I'm that kind of person?!" Harry frowned at Draco's reaction. Wasn't he already implying it that he thinks he does?
"In all honesty," Harry began before proceeding with a cold tone, "yes, I do. I think you befriend people for what they are, for what they can offer you, and not for whom they are or who they can be to you. You don't see people as your friends, but you see them as allies. You're a spoilt little rich kid who has no empathy. You care only about yourself and your interest. For you, you don't think that foes and friends are permanent, but only your interest."
Draco looked horrified at the things that he had said but nevertheless, Draco dug his own grave by asking him that question instead of just denying what he said.
"I-" Draco trailed off and chuckled humourlessly. "I guess I do give that kind of impression, don't I? Well I don't blame you and I guess you're right. I am...was like that. For what it's worth, I'm telling you that I don't quite see people in that light anymore. Not so much, surely you can understand that that's what I grew up with, seeing other people as below me."
"I grew up seeing other people toss me aside." Harry retorted with his eyebrow raised. "People like you –rich, powerful, spoilt, bullied me for things I wasn't aware that I did or just for them to have their fun. But I never ever thought of myself as the one who gets to be pushed around. If I can remember correctly, Draco, the first time you saw me, you immediately judged me because I was wearing muggle clothing."
Draco's eyes narrowed in confusion at him. "Mate, we saw a lot who wore muggle clothing."
"Yes, but not as odd looking as I, considering that you didn't see my face. Parkinson immediately said that I look like someone who's beneath you, and you completely agreed with her." And he added as an afterthought. "Only Theo was polite in your group."
"You..." Draco trailed off. "You were that rich-looking muggle kid, the sleeping...well evidently not sleeping, chap in the compartment."
"Congratulations on finding that out after a year." he said sarcastically then sighed. "Well, it matters not anyway."
"You're troubled, Harry." Draco stated.
"Yes..." he drawled."Maybe I am."
"Mate, you gave got to stop doing that." His blonde friend said in a tone of exasperation.
"What?" he replied, baffled.
"That drawling, slow talk and, and very careful with words kind of speak." Draco pointed out. "Honestly, I feel like I'm always speaking to Uncle Severus whenever I speak with you. Is that natural for potions masters and apprentices?"
Harry chuckled slightly. "Perhaps. Well then Draco," he said as he stood up. "I bid you goodnight." And then he left for his room.
"Draco's right you know, you are troubled." Harry jumped when he heard Theo's voice from behind him. He was fixing his things because he likes everything in order. He turned to see Theo leaning on his back by the door.
"What?" Was all he managed to say in response to Theo. Theo smiled and walked towards him, sitting on the bed.
"You're troubled." Theo repeated, sitting down on the bed. "With what I heard from your and Draco's conversation, I think you're troubled that he's your friend."
"I don't get what you mean, Theo."
Theo shrugged. "I mean that maybe subconsciously, the reason you told Draco those very, very honest opinion of yours is because you want to test how he'll react to it." Honestly, Harry doesn't really know why he said that to Draco apart from that is his opinion of the blonde aristocrat.
Harry didn't answer for a moment, but when he did, all he said was "Maybe."
"Anyway," he changed the topic. "What do you think of that bludger?"
"It was jinxed." Theo replied simply after looking at him for a minute, conceding to his change of topic. "You saw it when you used the Finite, so it was probably jinxed. Macnair Sr.'s my bet, who's yours?"
"Macnair Sr. isn't daft enough to do that in front of many people," he rebutted. "And besides, before the start of the game, Madame Hooch checked it, so..."
"It was probably jinxed during the game." Theo finished. "But by who?"
"Well that's the question isn't it?"
"Hn...yeah...I guess so."
The following morning Harry visited his brother in the Hospital wing. Lars told him that the batty elf visited him once again, practically begging him to leave the school, and confessing that he was the one who sealed the barrier at Platform 9 ¾ last September first, the one who took his brother's homework, and the one who charmed the bludger to go after his brother in the hopes that he will be sent home if he's injured enough.
The elf begged his brother to leave the school before 'history repeats itself', according to the elf. The elf left when they heard murmurs and footsteps nearing the Hospital Wing. Colin Creevey has been petrified as well and Lars heard the Headmaster saying something in the lines of 'the chamber of secrets has been opened again' and that's where Harry chose to tell Lars an additional information on what he knows about the Chamber, the information that he got from Draco.
"Do you hear anything at night? Anything at all, like someone who wants to kill someone?" Harry furrowed his brow at his brother's confusing question. "A murderous voice, ghost like, like looking for a prey."
"No...I don't think I have." Harry hadn't heard any murderous whispers, or at least he doesn't remember hearing anything. He thought that Lars might have feeling that what he was hearing is in parseltongue. "When and how many times have you heard it?"
"Ehm...twice...when Mrs. Norris and Colin got petrified..." Lars said before sighing. "Oh sweet Merlin..." There was a look of worry etched on his brother's face in knowing that he might be the only one who's hearing the said voice.
"Worry not about it, Lawrence." he told his brother, "This mystery will be solved, eventually."
The hard part for a parselmouth is to recognize that they are actually hearing a snake speaking because it still sounds like the language that they normally use when they speak. He did found a way on how to know if it was parseltongue, some part of the words that they say has a long 'th' and 's' sound since that's the way a snake speaks. But if it was a snake that his brother was hearing whenever someone gets petrified, how on earth is his brother hearing it like echoes in the wall and as far as he knows there is no snake that can petrify someone, kill with a gaze, there is, but petrify, he doesn't know one.
"Porthos!" Harry called out the same afternoon after he visited his brother, and, naturally, his house-elf appeared.
"Yes master?"
"Where's Seraphim?"
"Porthos does not know master." His house-elf replied. "Porthos feeds the rude serpentine like what master ordered but is nowhere to be found."
"Since when?"
"Two days from yesterday, master." That snake just had to disappear when you bloody need it the most. Where could have that snake been? If that snake gets killed, captured or whatever, Lars is going to be extremely disappointed that he had lost the birthday present, and also, Harry will lose his pet snake, which would be quite melancholic for this was the first time he had a pet snake considering that Midas, even with being a Care of Magical Creatures teacher, did not allow him to have one, saying that it's dangerous for a little boy to handle. It wasn't all that unreasonable he knew that Midas was just protecting him from harm, so he quit bugging the man.
"I see." he pressed a hand on his forehead before speaking once again. "I will call for you when I need your assistance."
"Yes Sir."
"Very well, you're dismissed." Porthos bowed and left. Harry didn't know that it would be the first of many times over the course of the next couple of months that he will call for Porthos to ask for Seraphim but, alas, the snake is nowhere to be found.