I haven't posted in a while, mon amis. There appears to be an inverse relationship between the number of reviews I get and the length of the chapters (or perhaps the amount of the chapters). Which saddens me (thanks to the scant four of you who reviewed). It seems someone has gotten wind of the horrible sham I am (hahahaha...get it) in writing--either that or fanfiction hasn't been speedily delivering my author alerts to you ladies and gentlemen as it so dutifully promises.
Either way, the show must go on, and I shall not let a little thing like loss of hope and betrayal of soul get me down! Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Hungry and Extremely Vexed
The winter hols had ended, and Harry found himself Flooed back to Hogwarts with Malfoy right behind him. The atmosphere of Christmas hadn't left the school yet, but Harry already felt heavy and grim. Spending time with his family always had an odd effect on him: it was not quite as drastic as Malfoy's, but it left Harry feeling perplexed that his parents were so content, so happy with what they had. The fifteen-year-old couldn't imagine feeling so…settled.
While Malfoy draped himself on his bed to delight in some of the sweets he'd been sent over Christmas and miraculously not finished yet, Harry muttered an excuse of going out for a walk and left the dungeons.
The truth was, the time spent at home wasn't the only thing affecting him. The package in his pocket weighed him down quite effectively for something so small and light. He still hadn't the courage to open it. Logically, it shouldn't even exist—something that had been given to him in a dream taking physical form?—and he knew he should show it to someone, Malfoy, or Hermione Granger, before fiddling with it.
But, Harry paused in a dark corridor, no matter how many cats curiosity killed, the flaw was undeniably a part of him. He remembered his trip to the wand store before starting Hogwarts, when Mr. Ollivander had muttered the word "curious" under his breath. Now Harry wondered whether the man was referring to the wand or to the boy that bought it.
Nothing for it, Harry thought with resolve. He drew the small package out of his pocket, staring at it for a moment and imagining some vial of secret-looking stuff or a key, before he ripped the paper off with one flourish.
It was a small metal snake that fit into the palm of his hand. Nestled among the brown wrapping paper, it seemed to gaze up at him with a cheap-looking tin stare.
What an odd present, Harry thought perplexedly, holding the snake up to the torchlight that lit the dim hallway. In the flickering of the fire it almost seemed to move.
-------------------------
Ron had barely noticed the people returning from break, the students who'd come streaming back from wherever they had gloriously spent their ideal Christmas. He'd been much too occupied with teaching Granger chess, and though she had improved slightly she still deemed the game "barbaric."
The day before he'd seen his lot arrive, wearing new knobbly sweaters that dug sharply into Ron's mind, loathe as he was to admit it. Tomorrow Susan Bones would return as well, and classes would start up the day after. Ron tried to block the thought of the upcoming term by showing Granger the kitchens.
She'd been fascinated by his knowledge of the way around the school. It was true that Fred and George had only had that magical map for a year or so before it was confiscated and never assumedly seen again. However, the twins were a clever duo and made sure to note every secret passageway in, out, and around Hogwarts before this happened.
He still remembered the day they'd shown him their own makeshift map of Hogwarts. "We're very gracious for showing this to you, you know," Fred had said. "We had to skive off an entire Potions lesson to draw this up and we regret it terribly."
"Snape nearly died of sorrow," George had agreed.
And so Ron had inherited a somewhat diluted knowledge of the secrets of Hogwarts. Granger, upon learning this, was amazed.
"This is rather interesting," she said observantly. "Think of all the time you could save going to and from classes."
Ron rolled his eyes and clapped her on the shoulder. "Granger, don't be such a Prefect. The passageways are for skiving off of school, not being more efficient at it!" They'd arrived at the painting of the giant pear, which Ron proceeded to tickle as the girl watched. The pear chuckled and became a door handle with which Ron opened the painting as Granger gaped.
He laughed and said, "C'mon."
Granger hesitantly followed him. He led her inside the painting to a sea of pots and pans, a hustle and bustle of house-elves hurrying to make that evening's dinner. Elves scurried up to the two of them, calling Ron 'master' and offering him pastries.
He turned to Granger and asked, "Well?"
However, her look of astonishment had turned into an angry glare. "House-elves? House-elves make our food?"
Ron shrugged, bewildered. "Well, yeah. D'you expect it to come from nowhere?"
Granger glanced about with narrowed eyes. "This was never in Hogwarts, A History," she muttered quietly.
Ron rolled his eyes. "How dreadful. Are you going to eat something or not?"
Granger stamped her foot. "I will not. This—this is slavery—bigotry—I can't believe Dumbledore…"
In the end, an outraged Granger followed Ron back to the corridors of the school.
"So much for a treat," Ron said mostly to himself.
"What was that?" Granger asked.
"I said, so much—"
"No, that—do you hear it?" she asked in confusion.
He could, now that he strained his ears. It was a very faraway cry, echoing and bouncing off the stones of the castle till it was impossible to hear what was being shouted.
"Can you tell where it's coming from?" Ron asked breathlessly.
Granger cocked her head. "I can't tell…it's echoing too much…but I think it's getting louder."
Ron was growing worried. He grabbed Granger's arm and pulled her further along the passageway. "C'mon!" he cried, angered when she pulled back to gawk at something behind her shoulder. "Oi! Move, c'mon, let's get back to the Great Hall." He tugged at her again.
"Weasley," she said shakily, "do you remember when you told me that you'd join the Quidditch team once serpents invaded the school?"
Ron froze and felt as if ice water was trickling down his spine. Something heavy was coming around the corner. He turned slowly. Oh bugger, he thought.
Hundreds of snakes of all colors and sizes were pouring down the hallway. They slithered competitively, fighting each other, and yet at the same time moved as one mass, terrible and unyielding.
Ron whirled around and yanked the girl after him, not even stopping to tell her to run. They rounded the corner, pounded up the stairs and searched hurriedly for a place to go. After it seemed like they'd gone in circles about five times, they finally found a door and hurried in. Ron slammed the door after them and slumped against it. "What," he said hoarsely, "is bloody going on?"
"Weasley…" the girl started to say.
He turned to look at her. "What is it?"
She jerked her head around. "Look…"
Axes lined the walls. The torchlight glinted off daggers and maces. The entire room seemed to be some sort of armory. Ron turned to Granger, who returned his wide-eyed gaze. "So…you going to sign up for Keeper now?" she asked weakly after a few moments of silence.
Ron looked away, sliding to the floor and burying his head in his hands. "What is BLOODY going on!" he cried.
------------------------
Harry rushed through the halls.
It was metal, tin and cheap.
It was a small piece of metal.
There was no way in hell, no answer in all the world to justify what had just happened.
He'd been holding the little metal snake, slightly mesmerized by the way it looked in the torchlight. And then, all of a sudden, the writhing flames dancing in the metal had begun twisting, turning in his hand until what he held slithered and coiled around his fingers.
It had bit him so slightly he could barely feel it at first right on the base of his thumb. And then a blinding, searing pain had flashed across his nerves, leaving him doubled over on the ground as the snake had slithered out of his palm and away from him.
Where it had touched the ground, Harry had seen shadows gathering to join it, moving around it like a cloud. And then they had solidified, taken long, sinuous shapes until the small snake was lost from sight amidst a horde of hissing followers. Some enormous, all different colors, like a display at the zoo.
Harry had hurriedly shoved himself up and followed the serpents.
Tom, Tom, what have you done? Harry thought desperately. No, what have I done? That squirmy temptress, curiosity. I need a plan, where's Malfoy, I need a plan, is Malfoy OK? he thought in a confusing cycle, but all his feet knew were the words follow, run, chase, hunt.
He rounded a corner and bounded up the stairs to the seventh floor. He could hear the writhing mass faintly as it moved throughout the castle, hissing and spitting. Following the noise, Harry had to leap back when he finally found himself at the brink of the snake horde.
They were hungry and extremely vexed, he could somehow tell, but what terrified him the most was what he saw in the middle of their lot.
Two students. There were two students, surrounded and covered with snakes.
One was using a wand to ward the snakes off as best as they could, while the other seemed to be bludgeoning them with a large axe. If the situation wasn't as dire, Harry would have been wondering where someone had gotten an axe in the school. As it was, he could only watch despairingly as the one with the wand fell and was enveloped by the serpents. The axe wielder, oblivious, fought on.
Harry panicked. He waded into the sea of snakes, who seemed to not mind him, and yelled stupidly, "Stop! Stop it!" Oh, that'll do real well, he thought scathingly at himself. Nice diversion, Potter.
The next moment, every snake had slithered off the two students and swiveled their heads at him. And, he could have sworn, each snake then asked him in perfect English, "Why?"
Harry blinked and looked around him. Since when do snakes talk? For that matter, since when do snakes invade his school in droves?
"Er…because you're hurting people, and you're not real, and I want you gone!" Harry snapped dumbly. But what came from his mouth was, in fact, not English at all, but a strange guttural hissing.
He had no time to be astounded, for it seemed that the mass was not convinced by his reasoning. Hurriedly, he ran through the hissing crowd to the other two students. "Where'd you get that axe?" he asked the redheaded boy—the one who'd been fighting Malfoy, he realized dimly—hurriedly.
"Over there—some weird room I've never seen, we were looking for a hiding place and we found one—tons of weapons—"
"Room of Requirement; takes too long to get in there." Harry swore under his breathe; the snakes were advancing again. "Have you got any more weapons?"
The wand-wielding student, who'd turned out to be Granger, much to Harry's chagrin at being recognized, pointed to a wall where a small pike rested. "We brought that for me, but I prefer to use magical methods of retaliation," she said quickly.
The snakes were upon them. Harry rushed to the pike and began striking awkwardly around him. Hissing jeeringly, writhing and twisting and sliding continuously under and over and around each other, the serpents quickly overtook them. Harry battled back to back with Granger and Weasley; the corner of his consciousness silently applauded Granger's magical abilities. She shot fire at the horde and froze them in midair as if her very molecules were composed of magic.
Harry stabbed all around him, dark blood staining his hands and forearms. Meanwhile, Weasley slashed and sliced effortlessly, his face angry and set. The snakes were kept at bay for some time; then one particularly large serpent the size of a small dragon seized Harry around the middle and twisted, flinging him into the wall.
"Oy!" he heard Weasley shout to him. Harry lay, the pike dropped and lost among the enemy. He rose woozily—thankfully the snakes were still averse to attacking him and had left him alone while he was fallen. They began slithering around the two humans in their midst—and that was when Harry caught sight of a small, silver snake dwarfed among the rest.
"Axe!" he bellowed out to the redheaded boy. Weasley looked at him doubtfully, but threw the weapon to him nevertheless.
Holding it in one hand and digging through the snakes with the other, Harry finally trapped the little silver snake and threw it against the wall away from the others. He heaved the axe into the air and brought it crashing down on his wriggly quarry.
The snake split into two and when Harry picked it up, it was once again immobile and metal. He turned to the horde behind him, and watched dazedly as it slowly melted into shadows that lost their shape and dissipated on the stone floor like inverted mists.
Harry let the axe drop to the ground and sank down, chest heaving from overexertion and his racing heartbeat. Weasley and Granger sat as well, looking pale and strained. The three of them look at each other awkwardly.
Weasley cleared his throat. "Erm, you two alright, then?"
Harry peered at him a while, then nodded. There was no room for malice or disdain now; they'd just survived a sea of serpents together. Granger nodded her head as well, slowly. She glanced at Harry. "Do you—did you see—what just happened here?"
Harry swallowed. "I don't know," he said in a hollow tone. "Never seen anything like that…I don't know where they came from," he finished somewhat truthfully.
Weasley grinned shakily. "It can't have been a student. Unless someone got a barrel of snakes for Christmas…maybe Snape's family have been to visit. D'you think he'll be angry with us?"
Harry shook his head in exhaustion. "Not snakes. He's got more of a stork about him, seems."
Weasley caught his eye and actually laughed. "I thought all you Slytherins kissed up to him."
"Try kissing that face without putting your eye out, and maybe we'll let you in the club," Harry said with the shadow of a grin. Granger ran her hands through her hair in frustration.
"I can't believe you two! Making jokes—we nearly died—and you, you spoke to them, didn't you?" she questioned him shrewdly.
"Yeah. I guess I did," Harry replied a little sharply.
"So, what, you're a Parselmouth?" Weasley asked curiously.
"A—what?"
"Parselmouth, someone who—" But Weasley's explanation was interrupted by a new voice.
"Who's there, now? Eh? What woz all that yellin's about?" It was Filch.
"Damn. Come on," Weasley said to the pair of them. They ran, Weasley leading, down a few passageways that Harry had been sure were only known to him and Malfoy. Coming out at the opposite wing of the seventh floor, the trio split and Harry went his own way, feeling a little bad for not saying goodbye—or apologizing.
Harry shot away from the corridor and down all six flights of stairs till reaching the dungeon. Hurriedly he entered the Slytherin Common Room, only to find Malfoy sprawled in one of the cucumber-colored armchairs, eating a Fizzing Whizbee.
"Where've you been?" Malfoy asked gleefully. "You missed the most funny uproar. The school got invaded by snakes."
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, er, must have happened while I was in the, erm, loo. I had to go and, you know—"
"Oh, don't go on, I don't need a full-on description!" Malfoy cried quickly. "Anyways, Dumbledore's rounded up everyone into the Great Hall."
Harry asked confusedly, "Then why are you here?"
Malfoy shrugged and grinned. "Got hungry," he drawled.
Harry gave a short, forced laugh and said, "I'll see you in a bit," heading to the dormitory where a diary was stashed inside his pillowcase. He needed a word with someone.
-------------------------------------------------------