Nico POV

A week later in defence against against the dark arts Lockhart announced that he had created a duelling club, making the class collectively groan and cheer.

"This is going to be ridiculous." Malfoy mutters, once again being forced to sit next to us.

"Something you'll know all about." I reply, my gaze not leaving my book.

I had long since given up paying attention in this class. I just have to self-study like I do for History of Magic.

"Now please begin your poems detailing my defeat of the Waggy waggy werewolf!"

That is the most ridiculous name I have ever heard. Why do I suspect he named it?

We all pull out our parchment and begin writing.

"I DON'T DO POETRY"I write, before screwing it up and throwing it at Lockhart's head.

I look over Kat's to see.

"The Waggy waggy werewolf, was defeated by a man with plan, not a man with a fake tan."

I scoff. Not her best work.

I look over to Malfoy to see he wrote almost exactly the same thing. Weird.

Will apparently had already written ten inches of parchment.

"What are you doing?" I hiss. "We're meant to be humiliating him not actually writing!"

He blushes. "I like poetry!"

"Let's just hope it's better than your father's Haiku's." I mutter.

Once we had finished Lockhart grins and reads through the poems, occasionally frowning or grinning.

"A stunning poem from Miss Bones!" he announces smiling at her.

Susan face turns as red as her hair.

"Oh Lockhart, he has my heart, there's nothing he can't defeat, like the Waggy waggy beast. He's so brave he entered the cave and with a wave of his wand, as beautiful as his blonde, he killed the beast so it was deceased." He reads, grinning at the class.

I cringe, knowing he probably likes that it's a love poem from a twelve year old.

"Reading bad poetry about how awesome he is just makes him remind me even more of your father." I whisper to Will.

Will groans and bangs his head against the table.

Kat (POV)

I decided to go to the duelling club, if not just to see Lockhart humiliate himself.

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works." Lockhart tells us.

"Maybe we should start a drinking game. Every time Lockhart mentions his books, take a shot." I whisper to Nico and Will.

"Every time Snape looks like he's planning his murder, take a shot." Will replies.

"You'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" Lockhart tells us.

"Every time Lockhart pretends he knows what he'd doing, take a shot." Nico adds.
"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position." Lockhart tells the crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."
"What a shame." I mutter.

Both of them swing their wands above their heads and point them at their opponent.

"Expelliarmus!" Snape yells.

There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.
We all cheer. At least four of us hoping that killed him.

"Well, there you have it!" he says, pulling himself off the ground. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

I scoff.

Snape looks even more murderous than usual. Lockhart must have noticed because he then said: Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me-"

Snape's all too familiar sneering face moves toward us.

"Di Angelo, you're with Zambini." He tell Nico, before turning to me and Will,

"Williams, you may go with Parkinson." He sneers.

I look over to the pug faced girl. Excellent, I've been wanting to hex her for quite some time.

"Solace, your partner is Crabbe." He tells Will, who frowns.

Will is the furthest thing from intimidating, like a new-born kitten.

I move over to the glaring Pansy.

"Take this you little mudblood." She sneers, holding her wand toward me.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart calls, back on the platform. "And bow!"

I give Pansy a dramatic bow, while she just ignores him, and continues to glare at me.
"Wands at the ready!" shouts Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one ... two ... three-"

"FURNUNCULUS!" Pansy shouts, before Lockhart had finished counting.

I feel a weird twinge on my arms. I look down to see my arms and legs sprouting thick white fur.

That's actually pretty cool.

"I SAID DISARM ONLY!" Lockhart yells over the fighting.

"LOCOMOTOR MORTIS!" I yell, ignoring Lockhart.

Pansy's leg's bind together. I walk over to her and push her over with one finger, causing her to fall onto the ground and flop around like a mermaid.

She grits her teeth, picking up her wand and pointing it at me again.
"Tarantallegra!" she yells, causing my legs to begin dancing around against my will, kicking in random directions.
"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge. "Finite Incantatem!" he shouts, causing my legs to stop dancing.
A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin are lying on the floor, panting; Ron's holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, Crabbe appears to have accidently hexed himself but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode are still wrestling on the ground.
"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan..."

"Careful there, Miss Fawcett... Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second,"

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells." Lockhart tell us, looking embarrassed.

He quickly glances at Snape before looking away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you-"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," Snape says, gliding over like a large bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.

I feel the urge to punch him. Maybe Neville wouldn't be so clumsy if he stopped insulting him all the time! Neville just lacks confidence.

"Excellent idea!" Lockhart agrees, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

After a couple minute of them preparing Harry and Malfoy I was bored. Shouldn't they show the entire class the blocking charm?

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

We all laugh.
"Three - two - one - go!" he shouts.

Malfoy raises his wand quickly and bellows. "Serpensortia!"

A long black snake shoots out of his wand.

We all rush back. Of course they get a bloody snake.

"Don't move, Potter." Snape drawls, a small smirk on his lips. "I'll get rid of it..."

"Allow me!" shouts Lockhart, waving his wand his wand at the snake. There was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

How does anyone believe that idiot could kill a spider yet alone a banshee?

Harry storms toward the snake, hissing in a language I don't understand.

The snake freezes, staring at Harry intently.

The crowd burst into angry whispers.

"He's a parselmouth!"
"He was trying to kill Justin!"
"He is the heir!"

What in merlin's name is a Parselmouth?

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT?" Justin shouts at Harry, before storming out of the hall.

The mutters become louder. What's the big deal about him speaking snake?

Snape vanishes the snake with a mere flick of his wand.

I notice Ron and Hermione dragging Harry into the hallway.

"What's a parselmouth?" I ask Susan, who had been whispering with Hannah.

"Someone who can speak to snakes." Susan answers. "It's a mark of a dark wizard. Slytherin himself was a parselmouth."

Are all parselmouths really evil? Can't be, it doesn't make any sense.

"You should watch out for Harry." Hannah whispers. "I didn't want to believe it before, but can it really be a coincidence?"

I glare at them. "Must be. Harry would never do something like that."

I don't know Harry that well… no, his best friend is a muggleborn! Hell, his mother was even one. Harry can't be the heir.

Nico (POV)

After the disastrous duelling club, all everyone would talk about is Harry being a parselmouth. If Harry hadn't looked guilty to the others before, he sure does now.

Though, Will Kat and I made it clear to him that we still didn't believe that he is the heir, we were one of the few.

While hearing what everyone thought of parseltongues I couldn't help but wonder what they would think of my abilities. If speaking to snakes is considered evil what would they think of necromancy and shadow magic? I may be thrown straight in Azkaban.

Living in a dorm with Ernie Macmillion and the others is almost unbearable since they found out about Harry, Justin is terrified that he'll be next.
"HARRY'S NOT AFTER YOU!" I yell, falling back onto the bed.

"How would you know?" he shrieks. "YOU'RE A PUREBLOOD! No one's going to hurt you! "

"I'm sorry you and the other muggle-borns are in danger." I tell him. "But I don't think it's Harry, he's not even in Slytherin, and aren't all pureblood's related? Hell most of us are probably related to Salthezar Slytherin somehow, or another parselmouth. It doesn't mean we're aware or know how to control the creature." I tell them, making them share looks.

"WE'RE NOT PARSELMOUTHS! THAT'S WHY! And clearly Harry does have the knowledge." Ernie yells. "And I have no Slytherin blood in my thank you very much."

I groan and storm out. I can't spent another second with those idiots, I can literally feel my brain cells melting.

On my way to Hagrid's for some much needed time with Snuffles, I collide with a red haired Gryffindor girl.

'Sorry." She sobs.

"My fault." I tell her, picking up one of the books she had dropped.

My gut twists. I turn it over to see "Property of T.M Riddle." Written on the spine.

Bianca had been so upset. Why couldn't she have been in a different house? From what I've heard everyone here is cruel, to believe the girl deserved it.

Without realizing it I had walked directly into a tall black haired boy.

"My apologies." I say quickly.

The boy gives me a tight-lipped smile. "You're a bit young to be a first year."

"I'm visiting my sister." I say quickly. Something about this boy makes me feel sick, like a twist in my gut.

"Ah, Di Angelo?" he guesses, studying me. "You have the accent."

I nod quickly. "Nico."

"My name is Tom, Tom Riddle."

I shake off the memory. Why does this girl have the diary of the boy from the 1940's?