CHAPTER 19
HALLOWEEN 1991 - PART 2
A Few Minutes Earlier…
Neville washed his face for several minutes, repeatedly splashing his eyes with the cool water to wipe away the redness where he'd been crying. From his hunched position over the sink, he stared unblinkingly at his expression, wondering if the boy who stared back had ever really been him. Sighing with the weight of his emotions and newly restored memories, he slowly trudged to the bathroom door and opened it, only to find himself staring directly at the knees of a twelve-foot-troll. It had gray skin, a lump-covered body, and humongous flat, horned feet. Its stench - like moldy old socks and filthy toilets - was potently vile, and Neville barely resisted the urge to vomit in disgust. Slowly looking up both stared at each other with varying degrees of terror (Neville) and confusion (the troll). Suddenly, the monster viciously snarled at him, raising its gnarled club threateningly.
"Well, I guess it just has been that sort of day today." Neville whispered, all at once amazed, horrified, and resigned. The troll screamed thunderously before swiping a beefy hand out for him, causing Neville to scream in fright, drop down, and hastily scramble away. Neville's back hit the far wall and the boy braced himself, mentally reviewing any spells that he could perform that might help him escape an angry troll in a killbox. In a wave of desperation, Neville tried Hermione's fireworks spell, but nothing came out of his wand except a soft pop and two lonely little sparks. Grinning rather maliciously (Neville idly wondered how that was possible) the troll reached down towards him hungrily ... and then suddenly roared as a blast of heated fireworks struck its posterior. Angrily, it turned to face its new quarry, Harry and Hermione, both brandishing their wands like swords.
"WINDGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" yelled Harry, and the troll's club flew up over its head and swept around to smash its face. Unfortunately, the troll was surprisingly fast when it needed to be. It threw up an arm and batted the club away and towards Harry and Hermione, who had to duck quickly to avoid it. Suddenly, they were knocked down by falling masonry when it shattered against the wall. Groaning, Harry shook off the impact and immediately began recasting the fireworks spell, aiming for the creature's eyes. Hermione soon recovered and joined in, mimicking Harry's actions. Internally, Harry reviewed all his mental notes about trolls. A magical beast of prodigious strength and immense stupidity, trolls were generally very aggressive, with a keen taste for human flesh. Trolls also possessed magic-resistant skin with unparalleled regenerative properties, and Harry briefly wondered if any of the non- First Year spells he knew would even work against it. Gritting his teeth, he continued his fireworks spell, hellbent on at least blinding the great big oaf so they could leave relatively unharmed. To Harry's growing dismay, their chances were growing slimmer by the second.
Across the room, Neville stared in shock at the sight of his two friends desperately trying to save his life, friends who he had so rudely spurned earlier. Heart heavy with gratitude and determination, he looked down at his wand, willing with all his might that it would work to help his friends. However, the wand remained inert, and for the first time, Neville thought not of his father, his bravery, and trying to be like the man. No, for the first time, Neville felt hatred bubble up from within as he glared at the useless stick that remained motionless in his hand. A useless stick which had never chosen him and that he'd never chosen as his own. Looking up to see his friends still battling bravely against the troll that threatened his life, Neville felt something burn deep within his very soul, rising to light his eyes aflame. Rage.
Side by side, Harry and Hermione continued their assault on the very hardy troll, with Harry taking to casting Knockback and Impediment Jinxes, which did nothing save to irritate the ghastly beast more. Then, to their amazement, they saw Neville climb up onto a sink and then, with a mighty gladiator-style roar, leap onto the creature's back! Gawking, both Harry and Hermione watched as Neville grabbed hold of the iron collar around the troll's neck with one hand, and hoisted himself up over its shoulder. His other hand still held his wand, which, with another fierce roar, he jammed up the troll's left nostril. Then, still barely hanging on to the struggling troll with one hand, Neville shifted his grip, and with a furious berserker-like battle scream, he shoved the wand another three inches up the monster's nose with an audible "squick!"
With that, the troll screamed in agony as a thick trail of green blood poured out of the nostril where the wand had been shoved. Its' trashings increased as it continued screaming in agony, causing Neville to finally lose his hold and fall hard onto the floor behind the beast. Exchanging a quick glance with Hermione, Harry said, "On three, Levitation Charm! Ready?" Hermione nodded her quick assent. "One, two, three!" "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" They both shouted, pushing with their combined magical might as the wand slid another few inches up towards the troll's brain. Fighting the resistance they felt, both pushed hard, feeling the tip of the jammed wand crack and break against the troll's brain. The beast started pounding at its head, howling in wretched agony.
"HERMIONE! ONCE MORE! TOGETHER!" he yelled. Nodding, the young witch raised her wand again, and the two cried out in unison. "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" With the sharp sound of cracking bone, Neville's wand shot up the troll's nostril and penetrated its brain. There was a spray of green ichor from the beast's nose. The bellowing stopped instantly, and the monster's eyes rolled back up into its head. Then, the half-ton creature wobbled precariously before falling backwards, straight towards where Neville had landed. In a flash, Harry repositioned himself as Hermione mimicked his position, before he cast. "ACCIO NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!" The other boy slid right through the wobbling beast's legs and into Harry and Hermione's waiting arms. With a final scream, the troll collapsed and crashed to the floor with an enormous thud.
Shaking in his friends' arms, Neville pulled both Hermione and Harry into a bone-crushing hug, which they both returned in kind. "I'm so sorry you two! I'm so sorry I was such a prat to you two," sobbed Neville. "You two are the best friends a guy could ever have." At that, Harry's eyes grew misty as Hermione openly cried in happiness. Though a happy one, his childhood had never been filled with friends his own age, and now, between Hermione, Neville and Theo, he had more and better friends than he'd ever imagined possible. He hugged the two of them tighter, and grinned happily when he felt them respond in kind.
The bonding session was cut short, however, by a loud shriek in a Scottish brogue. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" Behind McGonagall were Snape, Flitwick and a nervous looking Quirrell, who looked good as new. Harry's eyes immediately narrowed at the man
"Well, um," said Neville nervously, "there was this troll. And ... I think we killed it."
Hermione gasped. "Oh, we did, didn't we! I mean, I know we didn't have a choice, but it was still a semi-sentient being!" She looked at the fallen beast with kindly pity, much to Harry and Neville's amusement.
Snape, who had walked past them to examine the fallen beast, snorted loudly at Hermione's soft-hearted nature, incredulous at her kindness in the presence of a beast who could have (and would have) easily killed and eaten them.
"Fear not Miss Granger. Your poor, innocent, flesh-eating beast is not dead. A troll's regenerative powers are second to none. Your ... innovative use of what appears to be Mr. Longbottom's wand as an excerebration tool has placed the troll into a coma. When the obstruction is removed, the damage will heal itself and the troll will return to life no worse for wear." Rising, Snape turned towards Quirrell who visibly shrank back from his poisonous gaze. "With that in mind, perhaps Professor Quirrell might see to the troll's proper containment. As I recall, you are foremost in your field for troll containment, are you not?" He asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, y-yes, P-p-professor S-snape. Right a-away!" With a more pronounced stutter, Quirrell immediately unsheathed his wand and made his way over to the troll. Feeling Harry's eyes, Quirrell (out of the other Professors' sight) shot a venomous glare at Harry, starting when the boy matched him without a flinch. Harry was rather tired of Quirrell's little games.
"But what I wish to know, Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom, is what on Earth possessed you to go after a troll in the first place!" McGonagall practically shrieked.
"Well," interjected Harry calmly, while wiping dust and debris off his robes, "to be honest, we weren't actually going after the troll at all. The announcement at dinner was that the troll was in the dungeon, not on the First Floor. However, Neville... took ill during Charms and was in here when the announcement was made. We just wanted to make sure he was safe."
"It is true, Minerva, that young Longbottom took ill during my class today," said Professor Flitwick. "I allowed him to leave early and did not see him at dinner. I was actually considering sending a prefect to check on him when Quirinus made his announcement. In my distraction, I quite forgot about you, Mr. Longbottom, for which I offer my most sincere apologies."
"That explains Miss Granger's presence, Potter, but the Slytherins were instructed to remain in the Great Hall, under Professor Evans' supervision. What are you doing here?" asked Snape, his voice lilting in measured anger.
"Neville is my friend, sir. He needed my help, and I was glad to give it to him," said Harry simply. Snape's eyes briefly widened, but the man said nothing in response.
"Hem hem," interrupted McGonagall. "That's all well and good, but, if I may ask, how did three First Years manage to defeat the troll?!"
"Oh, well, trolls have magic resistant skin, so none of our spells could hurt it. We tried the fireworks spell, Knockback, and Impediment Jinxes to no avail. But then, Neville had this absolutely brilliant idea of jamming his wand up the troll's nose, and once he'd inserted the 'excerebration' tool, Hermione and I drove it the rest of the way into its brain with a combined application of the Levitation Charm we learned from Professor Flitwick." He beamed brightly at the diminutive professor, who looked delighted.
"Oh ho, good show!" said the Charms professor in an excited voice. "An awareness of the defensive properties of a dangerous creature. A resourceful use of an improvised weapon. And a creative use of a charm you just learned this week. Plus inter-house cooperation! Well done! I think an award of, say, fifteen points a piece seems appropriate. Don't you agree, Severus? Minerva?"
Neither of the two objected (though Harry thought Snape had seriously considered it given his withering glare), and McGonagall said it was time for the three children to return to their dorms. She would conduct Neville and Hermione to Gryffindor tower, while Snape escorted Harry to the Slytherin dungeon. But at that point, Neville stepped forward.
"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall. Before we do that, I need to go to the Headmaster's Office, or really any office with a Floo connection. I need to speak to my Gran. Immediately."
"Mr. Longbottom," replied McGonagall. "It's very late. I know this has been traumatic for you but I think it would be best if you got some rest and then contacted your grandmother by owl in the morning."
"I'm sorry, Professor," said Neville a bit more forcefully, "but I really need to speak with my Gran as soon as possible. Also, I would appreciate it if someone with the authority to do so contacted the DMLE and arranged for a couple of Aurors to come to the school so I could make some kind of statement to them."
A shocked silence descended over the room. "Mr. Longbottom," said McGonagall, now with a bit of asperity in her voice. "At this point, there is no evidence that the troll's appearance is anything but an unfortunate lapse in the castle's wards. The incident will be investigated by the Hogwarts staff and if it is determined that the troll was brought into the school intentionally we will-"
"Professor McGonagall," interrupted Neville, who was now visibly annoyed with his Head of House. "With all due respect – Sod. The Flipping. Troll!" Everyone started, unused to hearing the usually timid boy ever yelling, much less swearing. "I want to speak to my Gran and I want to speak to someone from the DMLE." As he spoke, Neville reached into a pocket and pulled out his Remembrall, which was now perfectly clear of any redness. "Because I have just learned that my great-uncle, Algernon Longbottom, would-be Lord for House Longbottom at my timely demise, has tried to murder me." He glanced at a horrified Harry and Hermione significantly before looking back to his Head of House. "Five times."
Harry's eyes widened, while Hermione put her hand over her mouth. "Bloody hell!" she exclaimed.
Despite his exhaustion, Neville chuckled in genuine mirth. "Language, Hermione."
8:50PM
Immediately after Neville's dramatic announcement, he was escorted to the Headmaster's Office, while McGonagall accompanied Hermione to Gryffindor tower and Snape grudgingly led Harry back to the Slytherin dungeon. Much to Harry's consternation, the Potions Master hadn't spoken a word, though he occasionally glared in his direction in spite of his otherwise placid expression. He was also limping through a rather large cut on his leg, though his face showed no sign of the pain Harry knew he was experiencing. After a few more painfully quiet minutes, Snape spoke.
"You are very lucky to be alive Harry, after your participation in the most unmitigated Gryffindorish act of tomfoolery I have ever witnessed! Running after a full grown mountain troll! Honestly! I distinctly remember telling Lily to keep all Slytherins in the Great Hall, instructions which you deliberately disobeyed, and that she knows you disobeyed." Harry paled dramatically, finally considering his mother's reaction. He very rarely disobeyed her, loathing her looks of poignant disappointment above all else. Chuckling sardonically at Harry's realization, Snape continued. "I'm glad to see you realize the full weight of your decidedly non-Slytherin actions. Actions, which, by some great miracle, you were awarded fifteen points for!" he scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes. "Consider yourself very lucky that I don't deduct thirty points for your foolish actions." Harry (quietly) exhaled in relief, pleased that he would not be further in the doghouse with the rest of his peers. His social standing could not take any more hits as is.
"Sir, as I explained, Hermione and I had no idea that the troll would be on the First Floor and merely intended to find Mr. Longbottom and see that he got to safety. I had to make a split second decision with no time to plan or investigate, and I made the best decision I could under the circumstances." Snape raised a brow in his direction, though he did not respond, allowing Harry to continue.
"And yes, while I understand that my actions were not 'Slytherin', I firmly believe that the House of Cunning and Ambition would also allow its members to help close friends if they are truly in need, utilizing said cunning and ambition to find the best possible solution in aid of said friend's life. Even if the results seem to be a 'Gryffindorish act of tomfoolery' to the most well-trained eye." Snape visibly relaxed, mollified. Slytherins could (and in the case of himself, Lily, and Tom) and often did help close friends in times of peril and danger, though they did try not to make it a habit of simply charging into danger with nary a backup plan.
"Fair enough. Still, five points for defying a Professor's orders."
Harry sighed. "Yes sir." They walked on in silence for a few seconds. "Though, mind you, even if I really were a selfish prat, I still would have gone after Neville. I've put a lot of effort into forming a relationship with the Heir Presumptive of an Ancient and Noble House. It would have been utterly foolish to ignore the opportunity to ingratiate myself with him further when I genuinely believed the risk was minimal." He smiled serenely at Snape, pleased when the man merely rolled his eyes and muttered about 'the Evans cheek'.
A few more seconds past before Harry spoke again. "Um… you do realize the infirmary isn't far if you want to stop in there for a bit. If I may say so, that does look like a very painful Cerberus bite."
Snape suddenly stopped and whirled to glare at Harry. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no! Please tell me that you were not, are not, so foolishly Gryffindor enough to go seeking a Cer-"
"Of course not!" Harry interrupted indignantly. "What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Snape snorted, causing Harry to give an almost cheerful expression. "Speaking of idiots, though, I am reliably informed that the Git-Who-Lived aka Brother Dearest and his pet Lackey Weasley have been to see the Cerberus - multiple times - and have noticed the trap door its guarding. You can imagine the two consider it to be, well, an adventure." He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily while Snape snorted contemptuously, barely resisting the urge to curse out loud.
"Naturally, you will keep me readily informed of anything you hear about the matter. It also goes without saying that you are not to approach that room by yourself, in pursuit of wayward Gryffindor friends or otherwise."
Harry gave a mock salute. "Sir, yes sir!. Should I also continue to keep an eye on Professor Quirrell?"
Snape slowly turned his head to assess Harry. He was once again thankful for his rigid self-control, though the intense pain in his leg inflicted by Hagrid's infernal beast was stretching his prodigious ability quite thin. Otherwise, he would have choked in alarm. "I understand you already have your suspicions of Professor Quirrell, especially given his increasing propensity to 'glare murderously' in yours and Brother Dearest's direction. However, in this case, why do you believe Quirrell is worthy of your suspicion?"
"Weeeeell, you recently said that he claims to be an expert on 'troll containment'. However, in the instance of him encountering a troll, he neither captures nor kills it. Instead, he runs to the Great Hall, dramatically announces the presence of the troll in the dungeons, and then faints, again, dramatically dead away. However, it's discovered that the troll is not in fact in the dungeons, but on the First Floor in the boys' lavatory, a good distance away from any feasible staircase that would fit its bulk. And as I am sneaking away to rescue my Gryffindor friend from mortal peril, I notice that the terribly-frightened Quirrell is already recovered from his supposed faint and has disappeared completely. So, naturally, it occurs to me that maybe Quirrell deliberately let the troll into the castle onto the First Floor and merely said it was in the dungeon. This would cause all the competent professors to run off and start searching the castle floor by floor from the dungeon up, thereby giving him ample time to go straight to the third floor and try to get past the Cerberus. Luckily, the vaunted Head of Slytherin House is clever enough to see that the troll is merely a diversion and goes to the Third Floor corridor himself to secure it which, unfortunately, is when the Cerberus got a piece of him." He smiled cheerily at Snape while the man looked down at him appraisingly.
"Indeed? Well, have you considered the possibility that the cunning vaunted Head of Slytherin House is actually the one trying to steal ... that which lies beyond the Cerberus ... and merely used the troll as a distraction?"
Harry shook his head firmly. "No. That theory would not explain how the troll got in, unless the cunning Head of Slytherin let it in and then just blindly trusted that Professor Quirrell would find it and then act appropriately. And it still doesn't explain Professor Quirrell's own suspicious actions. And if the troll getting in was mere coincidence which the cunning Head of Slytherin took advantage of, well, that's just wildly out of character. I mean, rushing off to danger without any sort of advanced practical plan is practically… Gryffindorish."
Snape laughed quietly. "Indeed. Well, perhaps the cunning Head of Slytherin and Quirrell are in it together," he suggested idly, dark eyes dancing in mirth.
"I absolutely refuse to believe that the cunning Head of Slytherin, who is also a powerful and well-respected Lord in his own right, would ever work with someone who would so foolishly run into a room full of schoolchildren and faint in a pathetically poor imitation of a distressed maiden," said Harry drily.
"Hmm." Snape quietly said, staring at Harry inscrutably. "Nurture over nature indeed."
"Touché Professor. Oh, and by the way, this may be completely unrelated, but I've also noticed that I am starting to get weird headaches whenever I'm near Quirrell for too long. Per my observations, Brother Dearest gets those headaches too, though he describes his as awfully painful whereas mine are more so… distracting." Snape paused to stare at Harry, sweeping a gaze across Harry's forehead.
"And naturally, in the pique of those headaches, I assume you've employed your Occludic meditation practices that would allow your mind to go purposefully blank whenever you're anywhere near Quirrell?"
"Naturally." Harry replied, and Snape nodded his approval.
"Good. Continue those exercises, and continue to debrief me regarding Quirrell's enduring strangeness. You are getting along well in your beginner Occlumency exercises, and Tom, your mother, and I are all in agreement that you can begin formal training that should comfortably put you at a Level 2 by the beginning of your Second Year. Murderous glances at minor children are one thing, attempting Legilimency attacks on said minor children is a whole other thing, one that will not be allowed to stand for long. This should go without saying: Avoid Quirrell outside of class. During your Defense lessons, whenever these pains strike you, make a note of the time and whether Quirrell was doing anything unusual at the onset. If you can do so discretely, have your Gryffindor associates observe the Other Potter to see how he reacts and whether his reactions differ from your own. You will present a written summary of your notes to me in one week's time. Am I understood?"
"Sir, yes sir!" Harry said, giving a mock salute as Snape rolled his eyes, though he looked mildly amused. As Slytherins, instructions to essentially spy on another teacher and also get his friends to do likewise were the most commonplace things in the world.
Slytherin Common Room - 9:08PM
Finally, the two had arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room.
"I've said all I need to Harry. While rushing into danger is a distressingly strong Gryffindorish trait worthy of James Potter and his ilk, I can hardly blame you for wanting to help a friend in need. Take ten points for a fine Slytherin application to a most unfortunate Gryffindor conundrum." The boy smiled appreciatively and thanked his teacher and mentor with suitable humility.
"And I am certain, your mother will see it the same way." With that, Snape gave the password while Harry grew very pale, the full weight of his mentor's statement settling across him. As he heard the man snicker, Harry briefly wondered if it was too late to run back to the boys lavatory and hide.
Soon enough, the common room door slid open. Inside were the majority of Harry's housemates who had only just arrived after the all-clear was given. Standing in the center of the room were Lily Evans and Rodney Montague, who looked to be having a rather amicable conversation. Surrounding them were other Slytherins, who were either quietly engaged in their own conversations, (discretely) staring at the famous Muggleborn Slytherin witch and mother of the Boy-Who-Lived. Or, in Draco's case, glaring imperiously while making (whispered) underhanded comments about her Muggle lineage with his surrounded minions. Naturally, none dared to say anything to the formidable woman's face. Sensing the door opening, both Lily and Rodney paused, as Lily slowly turned her head in their direction. Harry flinched and Snape lightly smirked, the former regretting the conversation to be had. Though her expression was deceptively calm, Harry knew it was a mere façade hiding her true emotions, given her penetrating stare. Together, both Montague and Lily approached the entrance.
"Professor Evans, Mr. Montague," drawled Snape. "I return the last of your charges to you. Professor Evans, his punishment for leaving the Great Hall after you had ordered it sealed has already been addressed. No further comment on that matter is necessary."
Lily looked back and forth between Snape and Harry. "Very good, Professor," she finally said, Harry barely resisting the urge to wince. Clearing his throat, he leveled his mother with the most apologetic and sincere expression he could muster, silently willing her to accept it and forgive him.
"For what it's worth Professor Evans, Mr Montague," said Harry, "I sincerely apologize if my rash actions caused you two any unneeded and unwanted distress." His mother looked at him unblinkingly for a few beats before nodding her ascent.
"As you were Mr. Potter. Professor Snape, if we may?" And together, she and Snape exited the Common Room. Montague, after looking strangely at Harry for a few seconds, rounded up the other prefects to let them know what Snape had said. Harry walked over to where an anxious Theo was waiting off by himself. He warmly thanked the boy for his help and shook his hand, discretely palming the ring back to him in the process. Theo nodded bashfully, though he gripped Harry's hand firmly. Then, Harry headed off in the direction of the First Year dorm rooms when his way was blocked by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. The rest of the First Years (and a dozen or so from the other years) were near enough to observe but were not actively interfering.
"Unbelievable!" exclaimed Malfoy. "When my father hears that the Son of an Ancient and Noble House snuck away, in defiance of the prefect's orders, in pursuit of a blood traitor squib and a mudblood ..."
"BINGO!" shouted Harry loudly. All the Slytherins nearby were startled by his outburst. "Terribly sorry about that, it's a Muggle thing." He shrugged at the sneering expressions of some of the room's occupants upon hearing 'muggle'. Turning to Draco, he spoke: "You finally managed to work mudblood, blood traitor, and my father into a single sentence! Incredible! I thought if I were the first to point this rare occurrence out, I might be granted a prize." Somewhere in the background, he heard Theo snigger briefly before getting control of himself.
Draco snarled, his face growing redder with each passing second. "You are such an embarrassment to this house, Potter. How many points did you lose us with that little stunt hm?"
"Well actually, I gained fifteen. But then, Professor Snape took five from me not obeying the prefect's orders. But then, after I explained my reasoning for my actions, he gave me back ten points for demonstrating what he referred to as 'Slytherin wisdom'. So in fact, I netted twenty points in one sitting, which is twenty more than I can say for you, Malfoy." Murmurs of approval went out through the assembled crowd, seemingly angering Draco even more.
"You're lying," snarled Malfoy.
"Ask him tomorrow," replied Harry cheerfully. Then his expression dropped. "I. Dare. You."
"I don't need to ask my godfather anything, Potter. Unlike you and your filthy mudblood mother, I don't n-" Draco suddenly stopped short as Harry's expression became violent, eyes widening when the latter snarled in his direction.
"Do. Not. Speak. Of. My. Mother. Ever." Harry's voice was cold and deadly, and several of the other Slytherins exchanged concerned glances at the furiously frigid tone. Draco and his minions gulped as one, suddenly realizing this impromptu confrontation may not have been the best idea. However, old habits die hard when it came to the Malfoy Heir.
"I'll speak of whomever I want, Potter. I'm a Malfoy and my family has been in this house longer than you and your mud-" Harry snarled again and stalked until he was mere inches from Draco's face, his expression enraged and fearless. Suddenly, Draco's mouth went dry and he felt rather like prey caught in the gaze of a ruthless predator.
"That means nothing to me, Malfoy." Harry hissed, his eyes narrowed in anger. "You have not demonstrated yourself to be worthy of this great House in any capacity that matters. Are you a rich Pureblood? Certainly. But guess what? So is Zacharias Smith and he's a bleeding Hufflepuff! We've been in this house for two months, and I have yet to see you display any semblance of cunning, ambition, or true subtlety. What I have observed, Malfoy, is you strutting around like a puffed up little peacock, flaunting unearned wealth and privilege from dear old daddy! I have yet to see you earn any points in class, or demonstrate any true academic brilliance that a purported pureblood ponce of propriety should have in spades! Oh no, not our precious little Heir Malfoy." Harry's eyes flashed as Draco grew redder in embarrassment, completely aware of the increased murmurings of agreement at Harry's barbed statements. "You talk like one of those little Muggle dolls that spouts pre-recorded messages if you pull a string out of its back. It's all 'Mudblood-This' and 'Blood Traitor-That' and 'Wait till my father hears.'" Here Harry paused, his face drawn in a most impressive sneer, eyeing Draco like he was a piece of rather offensive dirt under his foot. "It's absolutely pathetic!"
"Why you filthy little Halfblood...!" Draco furiously started fumbling for his wand.
Harry's eyes lit up almost deliriously. "Finally!" he crowed internally. He'd spent a good amount of his free time practicing a quick draw since being gifted his wand holster, mimicking Sirius and his mother's motions when they practiced. When he got to Hogwarts, however, he discovered that, outside of aurors and professional duelists, most magicals didn't seem to care about such things. In fact, he was the only First Year who actually used a holster instead of just tucking his wand away in the pocket of his robes like everyone else. He still kept practicing with the holster for several minutes each day though ... for this exact moment.
Harry flicked his wrist down, and his wand shot out of his holster with a soft "snikt" and landed in the palm of his hand. His wand a blur, he snapped it back up directly into Malfoy's face, nearly touching the tip of his nose. The entire maneuver had taken less than half a second (not even one of Harry's better times) but it was lightning fast compared to his opponent who was still fumbling for his wand. Malfoy froze in surprise, while Crabbe and Goyle backed away nervously, hands raised in preemptive surrender. There were gasps all around at Harry's effortless speed. Few of the young Slytherins watching had ever been exposed to real dueling, and from their limited experience, Harry's reflexes appeared superhumanly fast.
"You know," said Harry casually, too casually. "My friend, the Mudblood Granger, taught me this neat fireworks spell that shoots very heated sparks. I bet at this range, it would really hurt." Draco swallowed, starting to (for once) feel regret at his overly haste actions.
At that, Rodney Montague finally stepped forward. "Potter, that's enough. Stand down."
"It's alright, Mr. Montague. We're fine. We're all fine here. Aren't we fine, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco looked up from the tip of the wand to peer into Harry's eyes. And like James Potter before him and all of Lily Evans' enemies before her, he suddenly realized that Harry's eyes were the exact same color as the Killing Curse. "Yes, Montague," he said with a dry swallow. "We're... we're all fine here."
"Yes, perfectly fine. By the way, I mentioned that I won fifteen house points but forgot to say exactly what for. You see, the Mudblood Granger and the Blood Traitor Squib Longbottom and little old Blood Traitor Halfblood me, well, we found that mountain troll that caused our Defense Professor to faint like a distressed maiden. And then… we beat it into a coma." Harry's grin was vicious, pleased to see the shocked expressions on almost everyone's face. Zabini exclaimed "No way!" in a surprisingly Muggle manner. Harry tilted his head curiously, brow quirked in the boy's direction.
"Oh yes way!" Harry replied with a grin. "I, with the help of two other Gryffindor First Years that most of you look down on as unworthy dirt beneath your feet, just trounced a fully grown mountain troll by ourselves." Harry took two steps closer to Draco, unblinking eyes burning fiercely. Draco paled. "So, Mr. Malfoy, riddle me this: why in Merlin's name should I ever be intimidated by your pathetically weak magic and dear daddy's galleons? Here's the answer: I'm not." He sneered as his eyes glowed rather maliciously, and for once, Draco found himself backing away.
Smirking, Harry subtly flicked his wrist and watched his wand snap back into its holster with an audible "zip" that made half the Slytherins in the room flinch. "Now then," he said with false cheer, "I'm exhausted, I've had an exceptionally long day, and I'm covered in all manner of troll offal. So I'm going to take a long hot shower and then I'm going to sleep." He paused for dramatic effect, taking another step in Draco's direction, smirking when the boy flinched. "Should you want to continue this conversation sometime in the future, Malfoy, I'll happily oblige you. But, before we reconvene, do me this kind favor: Sit down with a piece of parchment, write down all your non-monetary assets, and then write down what you think my non-monetary assets are. And then, double the points you put down in my column, because I promise you, you've barely seen half of what I'm capable off. And then, should you still decide to take me on, by all means, be my guest." He hissed (in English) the last words, taking another step closer to Draco all while maintaining unblinking eye contact. "We'll finally see who's the better of the two." He sharply broke eye contact with a pale and visibly shaken Draco to gaze around the room, gauging everyone's reaction. Some looked absolutely frightened, some merely intimated, and quite a surprising few looked very thoughtful at his speech. Everyone was transfixed, all wondering just who exactly Harry Potter was, and what exactly he could be capable of.
Smiling with all his teeth, Harry said, "Good night, Slytherins," as he walked around Draco towards the dorms, resisting the urge to laugh as the boy noticeably flinched. As he left, he was alternately whistling and humming a strange tune that the Slytherin students found at once both unnerving and unearthly, save one Blaise Zabini, who instantly recognized the theme from "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly." Zabini cast a curious glance at Harry's back, his mind racing at the possibilities.
Over in a corner out of everyone's view, Theo Nott watched in no small amount of awe as his first friend (and possibly his best friend) casually (and victoriously) strolled off. And for the first time in his mostly miserable decade of existence, Theo grinned from ear to ear.
AN 1: And Part 2 is done! Neville is safe and sound, and dear old Uncle Algie will soon get what's coming to him :) Harry and Hermione are all good too.
AN 2: Draco vs. Harry, Part 1 of many lol. Draco will soon learn to keep from insulting Lily Evans, especially in Harry's presence.
Next Up: Post Halloween Reactions! Lily and Harry have a small pow-wow, Neville exposes Algie, and Harry, Neville, and Theo, have more time to bond! James Potter makes his first return :)