Snape, master of stoicism, didn't even try to contain his snort after casting his eyes over Addams and his band of misfits. Whether it was a snort of amusement or of disbelief couldn't be determined.
Sat amongst the usual throng of black, grey and the odd subdued green and silver sat Ronald Weasley, outfitted in the garish getup of the Gryffindor quidditch uniform. From his place at the head table it was an offensive blight on the Slytherin table, but apart from a few disapproving glances here and there, none of his snakes seemed to have any problem with it, or at least they weren't showing it if they did.
"Why do you look like you got cursed again?" Blaise asked, warily taking in Ron's terrified stare, slightly green hue and most telling, his untouched plate of bacon and eggs.
"He's bricking it that he won't make the team." Draco informed cruelly as he helped himself to porridge, making an obvious display of how confident he was about making it through his own house's trials. "Naturally, he just doesn't have the raw talent needed."
Hermione let out a laugh. "Actually, Ronald naturally has speed, stamina and reflexes that you could only dream of." Before Malfoy had a chance to respond Fred joined in.
"Exactly; when he becomes keeper it'll be down to his ability to fill the position, unlike a certain sneaky Slytherin who already knows he'll get his way because his team's captain is petrified of what Heri will do to him if he rules against you!"
Draco sniffed. "If I had any idea what you're talking about, I might take offence to that." Even Neville sniggered at his dramatically feigned ignorance. "And besides, I prefer to think of it as forethought and cunning; that I was able to make myself so integral to the team's success last year that the only smart move is to let me play." Most of his friends broke down in tears of laughter at that. Heri was inclined to agree with Draco though – he couldn't begin to imagine why he'd even come into consideration concerning Flint's choice of teammates.
Draco scowled furiously at his friends' mirth, until George laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry though," The twin added with a dangerous look in his eye, "You forget the most important reason that little Ronnikins will succeed: if he doesn't make the team he won't make it to curfew." Ron's brothers were still holding him responsible for Gryffindor's loss last year. He had eaten their captain after all. The blonde did actually feel better at hearing that, and at seeing how Ron seemed to shrink with the words. The Weasley twins had a rather charming sadistic side that he was sure would be directed at their little brother if he didn't make up for last year.
"Well Ron," Draco was instantly back to his overconfident self, "I'm sure your current incongruity is a sure fire way to inspire faith in your lame lions."
Ron finally looked up. "Actually, I'm planting a flag." He leaned forward and tapped the table. "Right here in the centre of the snake pit." The other Gryffindors present whooped at his response and started talking nonsense about psychological warfare.
Heri had had enough of Quidditch talk. As a rule he wasn't even usually awake for breakfast, but this morning had been all but dragged from his bed by a carelessly overzealous Draco. If it wasn't for Herido's incredible speed his dorm mate would have lost an arm at the very least. He stood to leave.
"Wait!" Draco cried. "You're going?" He asked at the same time Ron voiced his own disbelief and distress at his friend's apparent lack of care.
"You aren't coming to the try-outs?" Heri paused to look at them both.
"Why would I? You're both going to make the teams." And with his assured declaration they felt a weight lift, as though they had passed already. When Heri continued out of the Great Hall Ron eagerly picked up his fork, and Draco went back to bickering about Quidditch with the twins.
The first week back had passed with little incident – after the departure of the Addams children at least, and Dumbledore reaffirmed his belief that if he was to be burdened by one of those children, he'd take Herido over the others. Ok, so Flitch had discovered the massacred portraits, but Dumbledore supposed that it was at least nothing that could do any further damage to his reputation, which had taken hit after hit last year; if he didn't have such a good standing before, he was sure his name would be irrevocably in the gutter by now. He would make certain that no students or staff got murdered this year – that seemed like an achievable ambition.
He had a niggling concern about the absence of the Carrow twins, but tried not to let it bother him. Their family were hardly known to respect the rules after all. The two girls were first years and had only been there one night when they disappeared: He'd received a letter from their father stating that his daughters had been collected following a family tragedy and would be absent for a week and Albus didn't think anything of it, as he knew Amycus Carrow was an enemy that wouldn't want to meet with the leader of the Light if he could help it.
The fact that they'd had an altercation with the Granger girl, and therefore Addams and his friends the night they left had to be a coincidence.
Blaise was sent to free Hestia and Flora Carrow who had been resting and recuperating on the cold stone floor for the last day. For most of the previous week they'd been chained, hands high above their heads, pulled taught so they were forced to stand on their tip toes and a Heretic's Fork strapped to their throats.
At first Blaise had been underwhelmed by the muggle device and the thought crossed his mind that Herido might be losing his touch, however it only took a few hours to convince him otherwise. The forks were made from long pieces of rusty iron and had two sharp points on each end, forcing the wearer to keep their head as far back as they could in order to prevent impaling their lower jaw or sternum. They couldn't even protest or beg, as any movement of their jaws would result in nasty jagged cuts. They were forced to maintain the position they were chained in, straining their muscles beyond the limit, and they couldn't even escape into sleep, because the second they lost consciousness their heads would loll forward and the abrupt pain would easily wake them. No, there was no escape from the seemingly never ending torment.
After the girls had verbally attacked Hermione only minutes after arriving in the Slytherin common room, Blaise knew something would have to be done, and Heri's reasoning actually made sense. At first their dark friend had been annoyed at the idea that this petty bigotry surrounding pureblood doctrine would be something he'd have to deal with every year, but Blaise knew that most Pure Blood families had been warned about the Addams child's view on the subject and so even the newer students were careful about espousing any contrary views around him. However, he also knew that they'd always face a problem from families like the Carrows, so Heri's solution was pretty smart: to subliminally convince the Slytherin students – even those from the darkest or most stubborn families – that holding muggleborns in contempt on principle alone was foolish, that it would only result in pain and suffering. And so he'd chained the girls on either side of the common room exit to be seen by all as an example. However Herido knew he still wasn't powerful enough to act so boldly and so Pugsley had assisted in unleashing a powerful charm, one of several spells his parents had prepared for him, that allowed the subject of the charm to be seen, but immediately forgotten the moment they were out of sight, thus leaving the thought processes intact, but the memory wiped clean. It was impressive magic. All of those who saw the suffering of the Carrow twins would feel a deep fear, or sadness, or dread at the thought of spouting their doctrines, or in fact that their doctrines were wrong, but they wouldn't know why.
He crouched down to make sure their wounds had healed before unchaining them, trying his best to ignore the frightened cries. They weren't even a full year his junior, but he couldn't help but see them as tortured little girls and he was glad their punishment was over. He accepted that it was for the best if Heri's plan worked and they faced less prejudice, because at school his friends were more important than anything and he wouldn't have one of their own looked down on. But still, he was only just getting his head around the possibility of hurting adults and this was a step too far, a step too soon for his conscience to completely accept and it concerned him a little that Herido, Hermione, Draco and even Daphne hadn't flinched at the girls' harsh treatment. Perhaps he was just making a bigger deal of this than it was, he thought with a sigh, before explaining their cover story.
Later the following week while walking with the other Slytherins to History of Magic Heri smirked when he saw Lockhart walking towards them down the corridor, only to freeze when he caught sight of the fearsome boy and hastily turn to retreat in the opposite direction. It was really too easy, and unfortunately he doubted that the Defence teacher would be trying to kill him this year.
Heri and his friends rounded a corner and came across Astoria Greengrass and Ginny Weasley in the middle of a heated exchange. He smiled: this could prove awkward, it was just a shame his Gryffindor friends weren't present.
As the girls spat vicious insults back and forth, he took the opportunity to study Ginny's magic. It was as predominantly light as Ron's had been this time last year, but he was surprised at the Dark shadow that encompassed it. What had the girl been up to?
"Daphne!" Astoria cried when she caught sight of her sister. "You can't really expect me to put up with, with this?" She gestured to the red head, who was looking a lot more subdued now she too had noticed the older Slytherins. The Carrow twins had also paled a little and backed away from Astoria when she stepped up them.
The Greengrass' were more inclined to neutrality than Heri's other Slytherin friends, and so it had been easier for the sisters to accept the new dynamic than most, but that didn't account for personality clashes.
"You don't have to put up with anything." Daphne said dismissively before turning her renowned icy glare to Weasley. "What did you do to my sister?"
Heri was encouraged to see the fire in Ginny's eyes reignite at the accusation, though she was still clearly uncomfortable about being surrounded and outnumbered.
"I didn't do anything!" She defended. "I just pointed out how surprised I was to learn just who my brothers' friends were!" They had warned her about their ties with many Slytherin students, but she couldn't believe they were such close friends with most of the children her parents had warned her about and she worried about them associating with a family as dark as Addams. The only thing preventing her from breaking her promise not to tell her folks was Tom. After getting to know the old Slytherin prefect, she knew not to trust stereotypes and that looks could be deceptive – after all, Tom was clever and understanding and nothing like she'd imagined a Slytherin to be – and he'd convinced her to give them a chance.
Her main problem with Astoria was that she could be a nasty superficial bitch when she wanted to be!
"What's wrong with them?" Her year mate asked.
"You tell me!" She shot back immediately and Heri sighed, thinking maybe he should have the twins take a more direct approach in tackling the Light's own prejudices – at this point the Darker students were almost more open minded than the Light.
He was considering handcuffing the two girls together when Snape interrupted.
"Miss Weasley! Five points from Gryffindor for loitering in the halls." He called, seemingly blind the mass of Slytherins also present.
It was only after most students had cleared the area, which they had done hastily following their dark professor's arrival, that he turned his attention to his most troublesome snakes.
"You will all be serving detention with me this evening. Inform your Gryffindor friends and be at potions room one at seven sharp." And with that said he turned and stalked from them before they could even respond.
Heri wondered what was going on with the man. They had never really resolved whatever it was that was causing Snape to act so hostile last year, but had instead settled into an understanding that they would act as though nothing was any different. Heri didn't particularly care as long as the man didn't draw unwanted attention.
At five to seven, Snape waited for the band of dangerous children, wondering what on earth he'd been thinking in volunteering himself to oversee their punishment. There had been much discussion on who would conduct their detentions, but none of the teachers were happy to watch the children without at least one other teacher present. He would have scoffed, but supposed he could understand their apprehension: Hagrid had yet to return to the school as he was still in St. Mungo's, having to be kept alive by mediwitches until a counter curse could be found, or until the half giant finally acquiesced to letting them create a new mouth. After listening to his concerned co-workers, he'd made the rash decision to volunteer under the reasoning that most of the delinquents were his responsibility and that he could use them to clean up the mess left by the incompetent first years.
He was a little suspicious when the nine children set about scrubbing the room without magic as directed. Even his entitled godson didn't protest at being forced to do such a lowly task, in fact they all chatted amongst themselves merrily as they went about their punishment. He wouldn't usually allow this of course, but for his own sake he just ignored them and resigned himself to reading through the abysmal attempts at essays from his fourth year students, knowing that in the end it would be more prudent to simply let them get on with it.
It only took an hour before the room was once again starting to look fit for human habitation. When an overwhelming smell of muggle bleach reached him, he glanced up to inspect their progress, but soon wished he hadn't. His attention was first drawn to the three Weasleys, who were sitting on each other's shoulders with Ronald at the top… whichever twin was at the bottom was running madly between the desks, while Ron held a damp cloth to the ceiling, removing any remaining specs of brain matter. Across the room Greengrass, wearing plastic goggles, an apron and her hair secured safely within some sort of plastic bag – all of which he was certain were nowhere to be found in this castle – was polishing the tables with a muggle device, which was silent, but obviously working if the fine powder falling to the floor was any indication… he was pretty sure that wasn't in the utility closet either. Longbottom was following her work with a small hand-held vacuum device, and Zabini seemed to be waxing the desks afterwards. Draco and Addams were sitting on the floor nearer the sinks, using simple tools to repair any damaged chairs. How his godson knew how to do such a thing, he had no idea. Finally, Granger was stacking up the first year's cauldrons after getting them good as new. He'd never seen this room looing so good.
He floundered for a moment before finding his voice.
"Everyone stop!" He commanded in a dark, annoyed tone, which only resulted in mild confusion on the faces of the students.
"But we aren't finished." Draco said. Snape pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, trying to relieve the oncoming headache.
"I instructed you to clean the room by hand."
"No professor," Herido answered straight away, "You told us to clean the room the muggle way." The man took a deep breath and was about to respond when Granger suddenly spoke up.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, looking at the potions master eagerly. It was a look that made him nervous. "Of course! Snape could teach us." She said, turning her attention to the boys sat near her, before remembering the man was right there and turning back with a light blush, "I, I mean, I wondered, professor, if you might be amenable to, erm, some extracurricular tutelage."
"Hermione that's a fine idea." Heri turned his smirk to Snape. "After all, you used to serve the Dark Lord professor, surely you know a thing or two about the Dark Arts?" Snape stood abruptly.
"How dare you…"
"It's ok, uncle." Draco interrupted. "We just feel our knowledge of Dark magic is woefully lacking." Dark wand magic, at least, as Heri only knew the basics his mother had taught him – an education that he hadn't been able to continue this last summer.
Snape stood speechless. How could they talk about this so openly, like it was no big deal? Surely they knew that this was not an acceptable thing to ask of a Hogwarts teacher! Then again, as he glanced around the eager faces of the assembled students he couldn't help but want to say yes. It was always satisfying to teach children that actually wanted to learn after all, and he did so enjoy the Dark… No! He told himself sternly, interrupting that dangerous line of thinking. It was out of the question. It was illegal, and given his history if he was caught he'd be sent straight to Azkaban. Never mind that they'd be doing it right under Dumbledore's nose… wait, was that a pro or a con? He shook his head.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that!" He hissed menacingly. "And don't ever mention something like that again." Even Longbottom's face fell in disappointment. The world was strange…
Addams wasn't at all deterred by his strong words. "At least think on it professor." He said, before turning back to the chair leg in his hand, which was taken as some kind of signal for the others to also get back to work.
Snape collapsed back in his chair with a sigh, his mind racing.
Not too long after the cleaning, no, that didn't do it justice, the restoration was complete and Snape happily dismissed them, thinking that perhaps he should only allow his NEWT students to use this room from now on.
One the way back to the dorms, Heri ignored his friends as he pondered to source of the voice he'd heard briefly not half an hour ago. It spoke with the sibilant, elongated words that easily identified it as Parseltongue, but wondered what kind of snake's voice could carry so far, so clearly. He'd ask Kounna to investigate once she was back from her hunt.
"Heri!" He barely had chance to turn when a silver and green striped scarf was thrown over his head. He gave Daphne a questioning look as she set about tying a meticulous knot, ensuring the scarf was hanging just right, as though he was getting ready for a photo shoot and not a hell-forsaken game of school quidditch.
Wearing the item and a defeated frown he sat with his friends in one of the Slytherin stands overlooking the pitch. The only Gryffindor member of their group that wasn't playing today was Neville, whose red and gold was as jarring as Ron's had been in the Great Hall the weekend before. The hysteria and bravado created by sport had empowered a few Slytherins with the courage to call Neville out, some going as far as pushing and shoving in an attempt to make him leave, but the Gryffindor was not the meek child he had been this time last year and was expedient in answering their taunts with a rapid fire of (in Heri's opinion), juvenile hexes, so it didn't take long for them to back off and leave him to cheer on his Lions. Heri was rather intrigued to see bats and slugs flying out of people's faces though.
He could see Lucius Malfoy in another stand, looking thoroughly put out at having to attend such an event, and Heri wondered if the man was disappointed in his son for being so eager to engage in team sports.
"Exactly who do we want to win?" He asked the others, "I assume Slytherin?" He really thought as little of sports as he did of fashion, but supposed as a member of Slytherin House it was only expected that his team do well.
"Well yes, of course." Hermione supplied helpfully while making Goyle switch seats with her so he couldn't block her view. "Though it doesn't really matter." Heri looked on with incredulity as his friends nodded in agreement.
"It doesn't…" He sighed; he had to be missing something here. "I thought quidditch made the world go round?" He said sarcastically. "Why am I constantly subjected to it if it doesn't matter?" His friends looked at him with patient smiles – like he was a fool who couldn't understand something basic. It wasn't a look he appreciated and his dark glare told them so. They were sufficiently cowed, all but Neville that is, who was sitting in front of him and so missed it completely.
"You guys obviously want Slytherin to win," He explained, watching as the teams prepared to take flight, "But as long as Draco catches the snitch, Ron guards the goals better than anyone in Hogwarts' history, and nobody gets too bloody, it'll be a triumph." Herido was still confused:
"But I'm only watching for the blood?"
For a while the game proceeded as dully as he'd expected, and on a few occasions he'd considered throwing a little hijinks into the mix, but decided against it – Dumbledore was sitting right there after all, and he didn't feel the situation was so dire that he needed to be reckless. The Slytherin team were the more entertaining, and Daphne had been right in saying that Flint showed an admirable ruthlessness when he played, but it was the twins that were outright sadistic: they aimed to maim.
Still, Heri was glad when Draco finally made a dive for the snitch, but he stood and was making his way down to the pitch before the others even noticed something was wrong.
Draco was blinded for the briefest moment as something shiny reflected the September sun. The Snitch! Attempting to ignore the sun spots trying to blind him, he set off after it as quickly as his Nimbus Two Thousand and One would carry him. As he flew another light blinded him, followed by another, and then another, only this time there didn't seem to be a cause. Still, he persevered, shaking his head to clear his vision. His fingertips had just brushed the smooth surface of his prize when his head exploded in white hot pain, leaving him blind and deaf and careening dangerously at high speed.
Fred had been a second away from aiming the bludger at Draco's broom (a kindness granted to no other Slytherin), when he saw the blonde loosing balance and instead ducked, allowing the violent ball to speed right past him before giving chase. George immediately knew something was going on with his twin and followed his lead, watching in horror as their little snake fell from his broom. The game forgotten, the brothers dropped into a dead dive and just about managed to catch the unconscious boy, sweeping him up to slow his momentum before finally laying him on the ground. Although they were in the middle of the field, they looked up to see Herido was already there, and their other friends were running towards them.
It only took a minute for Draco to wake up, but by that time the game had been suspended and he was surrounded by concerned friends and teammates.
"What happened out there?" Lucius Malfoy asked with short clipped words, sounding altogether unimpressed with his son's performance. At any other time, Draco would have been crushed by the disappointed tone, but right now he wasn't in the mood and so instead of trying to explain himself, he tossed the game winning snitch in his father's direction and took off for the showers, ignoring the calls from the man, from his teammates, from his friends, from Mme Pomfrey and especially from Herido Addams!
xx
