Those- Who- Lived
Chapter Eight
Wood was indeed insane about training, and the only saving grace for the next month was Fred and George's reign of terror against Lockhart. James had been only too happy to encourage young pranksters, and with such a deserving target, the letter had gone out with even Remus happily adding his own advice.
Lockhart didn't even know what hit him.
Monday morning, the school was treated to the sight of Lockhart turning a sickly green colour – from his skin to his clothes. His hair turned grey. Harry watched with vindictive pleasure as a horrified expression crossed Lockhart's face. He changed it into a sad looking grin, as well, standing to give a strained bow to the Great Hall before he scuttled out of the room to escape the laughter of the student body. All of his classes that day were cancelled, and in the evening, Harry found the twins and told them to make the potions a little shorter, so they could catch him several times in a day. Of course, this left him having to duck to avoid getting pranked himself, and they moved back to their planning, which Harry happily left them too.
Pulling up his usual seat next to Hermione, Harry looked at her and gave her a warm grin.
"Twins, one. Lockhart, Zero."
Hermione made a face back at him, and sighed as she bent over her homework once more.
Lockhart didn't get a single day of peace for the next month. He got changed into a canary, hung from the ceiling, turned several different colours, had his voice changed, and anything else the twins could think of trying out on him. Sometimes it was three things in one day, sometimes it was just one. His classes were cancelled several times for him to cry in his office (at least, that's what Harry maliciously assumed he was doing). He managed to counter only about three of the spells and none of the potions. After the first week, he stopped trying to pretend he let the spells happen. Harry would forever remember with glee the day he walked into the classroom and had his robes turn sticky and light brown, leading him to run from the room immediately thereafter, leaving behind the disgusting smell of diarrhoea.
Once the score made it to 'Twins, twenty. Lockhart, three – sort of.' Of which, Lockhart got his points due to being able to counter the twin's actions, Hermione stopped defending him. Instead, she began to question him mercilessly when he did actually attend classes. Harry, Neville and Ron had never thought Hermione would be quite that vindictive, but once he started stumbling on his answers, Hermione's eyes just glowed with fury and Harry just sat back to watch the drama with a wide grin. It was deliciously satisfying.
The only bad part about all of it, were the several classes when Snape took over teaching. He grumbled and stormed around the classroom, but he knew what he was talking about and Harry found it several times easier to listen and learn in a Defence classroom than in the Potions dungeon. Neville swatted him upside the head and informed him Lockhart must have melted his brain when he observed he almost liked Snape's handling of the class better than when they had Dumbledore taking over. Harry just stuck his tongue out and returned to his homework.
IIII
Finally, it slipped further into October, and Harry was grouchy, damp, and the Twins had been called off by a furious Wood who demanded they spend less time plotting against the useless waste of space, Wood's words exactly, and get back in line so they would remain on the Quidditch team. With that threat in place, the pranks subsided and practices once more became the focus, with all the miserable rain, the rampant cold breakout, and one furious, sick Filch. After a close call in the front entry, Harry made sure to clean himself the moment he stepped out of the rain. However, the other problems that arose as the month wore on, was Lockhart.
Lockhart had regained his aplomb as the pranks stopped, apparently thinking, and occasionally hinting that the pranksters had grown wary of his possible retaliation, and went back to his old habits. In classes, he tried to pull Harry to the front and have him demonstrate, but Harry flat out refused, and Hermione usually sniped in to save him with a question that would throw Lockhart for a loop again. However, even she couldn't keep Harry safe in the halls, to and from Quidditch practice, nor could she help at the practice. Lockhart had tried, several times, to pull Harry aside and give him some stupid pointers about playing Seeker when he clearly knew how to do fine himself. Fred and George considered this free target practice once Harry assured them he could get out of the way plenty fine on his own. Instead, Lockhart got himself knocked out once, and chased off the pitch several times. After the practice, however, Harry had to make use of several passages to get out of his way.
One Saturday, Harry, however, needed to deal with his homework and ask Flitwick a question. Passing just beyond the library, however, he spotted Lockhart, who, upon seeing him, called out and waved eagerly.
"Harry! How good to see you, I wanted to check with you if you're absolutely sure of that answer you gave. I think it's not quite right …"
Harry didn't wait to hear more and quickly darted into the library, giving Madam Pince a tight smile and jogging into the deeper parts in search of a dark and hidden table. Once there, in the darkest corner he knew of which was surrounded by several questionable books and a few short fiction novels, he dropped into a chair and hissed through his teeth. He jumped when someone spoke up.
"What are you doing back here?"
Harry looked swiftly to the source of the voice, and found it a moment later. Prince's pale face almost glowed in the dark shadows, turning his eyes into black pits beneath his rigidly straight hair. He was watching Harry with curiosity, and Harry shook himself before answering and standing with a scowl.
"Sorry, I was just avoiding Lockhart. I didn't know you were back here. I'll get off, then."
"You don't have to leave." Prince drawled.
Harry looked back at him and found him to have his nose pressed into his book once more, not even looking at Harry.
"Pardon?" Harry asked. He didn't think a Slytherin would stand for a Gryffindor to be nearby. Prince certainly wasn't an exception about any other Slytherin qualities.
Prince gave him a short look that once again made him sure he'd just asked a stupid question, making him bristle slightly. "The library is public, and you can sit here if you want. Just don't make Lockhart think to come back here. I don't want to see that idiot any more than you do." He turned back to his book, and added with a negligent wave. "I think mutual hatred of some moron is a good enough excuse to let you back here whenever you need. Nobody owns any part of this library exclusively, you know."
Feeling both mildly confused, and strangely grateful, Harry sank into a chair once more, stifling his slightly nervousness. He sat in silence, glancing around at the books in the area with silent eyes. There were a lot of Defence oriented books, and a few Potions ones as well, ones Harry had never seen before. A few others looked like references, and novels, and Harry smiled tightly as he stood and observed several. Finding a thick Defence tome, he pulled it back with him and propped it up, flipping through to read. Prince wasn't even looking at him, instead focusing with his face buried in his own tome of Potions of some sort. Harry hadn't though it would be this comfortable to just sit with Prince, but it was strangely relaxing and invigorating at the same time. He wasn't feeling safe right then, but the energy between them just seemed to feel … right.
Enjoying the strange calm, Harry fell into he book and began to read, forgetting entirely his desire to go find Flitwick. This felt much better. It felt right.
IIII
Halloween was a glorious feast, and Harry had never been so glad of the food before now. He'd seen the pumpkins Hagrid had been growing were gloriously beautiful in the room, and the dancing skeletons were both rather disturbing and highly amusing. All in all, it was a glorious meal, and he was glad to have been there. However, it left him very ready for bed to have such a heavy meal in his belly. Leaving with everyone else, Harry laughed with Neville and Hermione as Ron nearly stumbled into the wall again. As some of the first to leave, they were still behind a layer of other children, and Harry rather suddenly ran into another student's back as they abruptly came to a halt. Gently pressing them aside and slipping to the front, Harry stared with the rest of the students at the scene before them. Mrs. Norris hung from a torch bracket, and beside her, in gleaming letters on the wall, were the words
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
Harry stepped back with a slight slosh, glancing down and grimacing at the water beneath his feet. Behind him, he felt a stir, and he jumped as Malfoy shouted behind him,
"Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, mudbloods!"
Harry turned angry eyes on Malfoy, his teeth bared in a snarl. The shining belief Malfoy wore on his face only served to make Harry angrier, and he moved to lunge forward. Neville quickly grabbed his arms and heaved him back against himself, stumbling slightly. Harry had never been angrier with Neville hitting his growth spurt until then, and he snarled once more.
"What's going on here!"
Harry stopped as Argus Filch pushed forward, and Harry felt a shiver of unease. Filch wasn't going to be happy …
"My cat!" Harry winced. He hadn't wanted to be right about that. "My cat! What happened to Mrs. Norris?" Filch scanned the gathered students and fixed his angry glare on Harry where he stood with Neville still gripping his arm! "Did you, Mr. Potter? What –"
"Argus." Dumbledore rumbled. Harry tried to shrink back into the crowd once more, and Neville wasn't arguing, except that Dumbledore pressed right past them. He went up to the bracket and freed Mrs. Norris from her place, before fixing Filch with another look. "Come with me, Argus. None of these need kept from their beds any longer tonight."
Lockhart pressed forward eagerly, drawing them off to his office. Harry and Neville were drawn along as the prefects and the remaining teachers ushered the students back to their common rooms. Falling in step with Ron and Hermione, Harry and Neville went silently, until they reached the common room and drew Hermione with them to their usual seats. Harry leaned forward immediately and glared at Neville.
"I know I shouldn't have gone after Malfoy, but it still would've been nice if you'd let me hit him at least once."
Neville snorted. "Well, really, by all means. I'll be sure to let you deck another student in front of the Headmaster next time then. Why not just throttle him at the next quidditch match? You have enough skill drawing and avoiding bludgers, just make sure one of those connects with his empty skull. Then absolutely nobody will complain. Flint can't even complain."
"Fine." Harry growled. "What do you think happened to Mrs. Norris?"
"She was perfectly stiff." Hermione chimed in. "That's not normal for death, unless they've been dead for a long time, I don't think."
"Petrification?" Neville asked. "But the list of things that can petrify is pretty short, and I don't think any of them are likely to be in the castle."
"Nah, best thing that comes to mind for me is a basilisk." Harry added. "And as if one of those would be haunting the corridors."
Hermione looked between them rather quickly and frowned once more. "Why would you think a basilisk wouldn't be in here? Are they common?"
Harry gave her a long look and then sighed. "I keep forgetting you're muggle-born, since you know so much. No, they're not common and they're frightfully deadly. A basilisk will kill with its sight, and it has extremely deadly poison. Petrification occurs upon indirect exposure to the basilisk's sight, but again, they're rare and how would it be in the castle anyways? They tend to grow forever and can end up getting huge. And only one attack? You'd have to have a parseltongue to keep the snake in line and not killing randomly. It's impossible to hide a basilisk."
"Nigh impossible." Neville corrected. Harry glared at him once more, and then stood, fighting down a yawn.
"Whatever. As much as it was horrible Mrs. Norris died, I still don't really care. Dumbledore will take care of it, I'm sure."
Neville and Ron joined him in preparing to go to their beds, but Harry heard Hermione grumble a parting phrase under her breath.
"Hopefully he'll do better than he did last year in 'taking care' of things."
The thought haunted him as he lay down to bed that night. He desperately wished Hermione hadn't brought that up.
IIII
In the morning, no one could talk about anything but Mrs. Norris. An announcement stating the immediate investigation was made at breakfast, and talk had spread faster than the flu. It was Ron, however, who gave Harry the crazy idea that tore him from breakfast early, in one single line.
"I can't believe this. And none of the Slytherins look at all surprised, either. I'll be it was one of them who pulled it off."
Startled, Harry scanned the Slytherin table and found one face missing. Not seeing Alan, Harry stood, finished his drink, and grabbed some toast before waving shortly to Neville and leaving. He knew Neville would tell the others to leave him alone; Neville knew him well enough that if he didn't invite him, he didn't want him around. Thus, he made his way to the library relatively unnoticed, and slipped into the back with quick steps, walking towards the silent, dark corner on the far end. As he'd expected, under a good guess, Alan was seated at the table, looking half-ready to stand and leave, two books stacked on the edge of the table and one in front of his nose. He looked up to find Harry there and closed his expression as he did so.
"Hello Potter. I didn't think anything could tear you from breakfast."
Harry grimaced. "There are a few things certainly. I wanted to ask, do you know anything about what happened to Mrs. Norris?"
Alan looked speculative. "What happened to Mrs. Norris?"
"You haven't heard?" Harry queried.
"No."
"She was paralysed last night, just after the feast. Hung on a torch bracket next to some bloody kind of writing on the wall, saying 'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.' It's the talk of the school, and you haven't heard?"
Alan shook his head slowly. "I've been looking a few things up. Haven't talked to anyone recently. I'll have to ask Snape about it, then. Excuse me." Alan stood quickly, gathered his books, leaving the one he'd been reading behind, and hurried to check out his books.
Harry watched him go, thinking. He'd not thought Alan could look that concerned. He'd half think the boy liked Mrs. Norris to look so pale at the news.
IIII
Of course, the next few days were full of talk and chatter as the school always was. Filch was miserable at the loss of Mrs. Norris, making students miserable in turn and stalking the scene of the crime. Ron and Hermione both were very curious, and Neville certainly wasn't disinterested. Harry was amused to find that Neville was the one offering cautions this year, rather than Hermione. However, Hermione did get them a good explanation from Binns about what the Chamber of Secrets was. Harry hadn't even thought Binns would notice if a student stood and danced naked on their desk in the middle of his class, much less put their hand up. But, apparently there was some premise for this chamber issue: Salazar Slytherin hadn't trusted muggleborns. Although Ron immediately called him loony, Harry found himself mentally disagreeing: In a time where muggles feared and hated witches and wizards, he'd be cautious too about bringing students to such a central location.
However, the bustle died down as the days passed, and then it was once again time for Quidditch. Facing Malfoy while he was on the fastest broom presently out was nerve-wracking, but after being reminded by Neville of the number of times Malfoy had nearly crashed clean into them during the many youth parties, Harry wasn't so scared anymore. After all, you'd have to have talent to make any use of more speed. Neville was proof enough of that.
The school began to empty at around eleven o'clock, and as Harry left, he was surprised to bump into Prince and hear a soft 'good luck' before he split off to walk with Zabini. Harry watched him go curiously. He hadn't thought Prince would care.
Wood gave his usual pep talk, and then they were out on the pitch, looking at the muggy sky and listening for the whistle to start. Harry met Malfoy's eyes across the pitch and found himself smirking wickedly. Malfoy was in for a world of hurt if he thought money would save him on the pitch.
The whistle to take off was never more welcome, and Harry found himself in enough of a mood to take off completely vertically, shooting into the air and levelling out well above the pitch. A smile graced his face, and he turned to watch the green blur that was Malfoy streak across to come by him and sneer,
"All right there, Potter?"
"Never been better!" Harry yelled back, and shot straight towards him. Malfoy scrambled out of his way and looked frantically in the direction Harry had shot. However, Harry pulled his straight course into a light circle to spin across the pitch and watch the game below. He looked down in time to see Alicia score the first goal of the game, and hear Lee Jordan cheer into the mic, screaming, "And it's Gryffindor's goal first! 10 – zero, Gryffindor!"
Harry grinned once more, and then pulled off course to avoid a chance bludger. It came back at him on the way down, and Harry rolled again, enjoying the flying for what it was and scanning the pitch for the snitch. He found nothing, but saw that Malfoy was watching him more than looking for the snitch. Curious, Harry grinned, scanned the pitch again quite obviously and then focused suddenly on a point next to one of the stands. Pressing forward, Harry shot straight towards it, vindictively thinking, 'Lets see how fast that broom stops, Malfoy'
As he'd expected, Malfoy was no more than seconds behind him and he pushed his own broom for less than it was worth, letting Malfoy catch up, which he did so with glee. They were flying straight at the stand, and Harry almost thought he himself saw a glint nearby, but a second look proved it to be nothing more than a watch. He grew ever closer, and then firmly pulled off just in time to see Malfoy do a much less refined move to stop himself from crashing headlong into the stand. A dull thump proved he'd barely managed it, and Harry called,
"Fast broom there, Malfoy. Good to see you know how to use the brakes!" Harry then pulled up away from the action of the main pitch, but his eyes locked immediately onto a glint that wasn't near a stand or person: The snitch. Harry flattened his broom out and shot after it, but Malfoy, still wary of his previous fake out, didn't immediately follow until Flint screamed at him to go after him. It was a little too late, though, and Harry, after nearly having to go through the goal hoop, snatched the golden ball from the air to the ecstatic cheers of his house. Wood nearly threw himself at him, crying for joy, even as the day finally opened up and began to rain.
It was on the way back in, however, that Harry heard something to pull him up. Passing the stands inside, he overheard Malfoy getting chewed out by his father, and, not wanting to miss this, he paused and ducked out of sight.
"-Missed it entirely, you should have been trusting yourself, not that lackwit hooligan. You lost your position on your own, and I'm sorry to have to say I'm ashamed of you. You should know how to fly better than that."
"Its all Prince's doing." Malfoy muttered back to his father. "He's always been against me. He shouldn't! We're both Slytherin –"
"You should be able to act for yourself!" Harry bit his lip as he heard Malfoy get slapped. Oh, that wasn't supposed to happen! "You lost your position on the team by your own actions, and you can forfeit your broom to him as well. Severus wasn't about to let someone likely to make his team lose play, and you just proved that you're worthless. Now go polish up your essay! If I hear one more whine about losing to that mudblood …"
Harry quickly got up and left, scampering up the stairs to find his way to the dorms. Malfoy had lost his position as Seeker? Harry was fairly sure he knew who would be taking over, but why? He could certainly understand that Malfoy was terrible: he barely managed to stop from crashing headlong into the stand when he'd been faked out, but for his father to get so hung up on it so as to hit him … He wasn't comfortable with that. He'd be sure to write his dad about that; maybe they'd be able to get him in trouble for being abusive, although he didn't hold out much hope. Almost all the older purebloods were like that, thinking they had a right to hit their kids and wives. Catching them was what was difficult. Even Malfoy didn't deserve that …
IIII
The next morning, Harry had a little more to think about than Malfoy. As he went with Neville and Ron down to the Great Hall for breakfast, they passed by Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. They only heard a short amount, but it was enough.
"-Last night, Dumbledore found him on his way to the kitchens, stiff as a board, his camera in hand."
"Colin Creevey? Oh dear. It – it can't be open again, can it?"
"Dumbledore believes so. He is more curious about how, though …"
They passed them by without being seen, but a glance shared between them all told wonders of what they thought. This wasn't good. At breakfast, the argument came up again, and Ron had an immediate suspect.
"I'm betting its Malfoy causing all this trouble." He snapped. Neville lay down his fork quietly, and then returned to his meal without saying anything. Harry knew that meant he didn't believe what he was hearing, and didn't think words would help. If only he felt that way …
"I don't think it would be Malfoy, Ron. His father –"
"Could easily have opened it before and then passed on the key!"
Harry sighed and growled; "I don't think his dad would have slapped him last night if he were willing to hand over something so valuable."
Ron fell dead silent and Hermione gasped. Neville spun to look at him.
"Malfoy's dad hit him?"
Harry nodded darkly. "He's off the Quidditch team, too. I think that was Snape's initiative. Likely, they put Prince on, because he's got better skill than Malfoy, easily. But Malfoy's dad wasn't happy about it."
"He wouldn't be." Neville murmured. "But he may have still handed over the … whatever, for the chamber. If it was an heirloom, he would have handed it down no matter what at a certain age and if Malfoy was in a bad mood …" Neville stabbed at the air with his fork and looked into space. "But what could it be …"
Harry shook his head and dug in once more, thinking that maybe he'd have a question next time he met Prince in the library. Of course that would have to wait. Neville, Ron, and Hermione were all insistent on remaining with him, and in fact, he didn't get any free time over the weekend.
Come Monday, the news about Colin was everywhere, and the first years were all terrified. Ginny, nervous and slightly distraught over the news, actually joined them at breakfast Monday morning and tucked close by them. The only uncomfortable thing about it all was that she had taken a disconcerting habit of clinging to Harry, rather than her brother, something that made Harry very uncomfortable. Neville's pointed effort to keep himself from laughing wasn't helping matters any.
Beneath all of them was a rampant trade in protective talismans. Percy was heard ranting and raving at several students who had been giving them out, and while he was ranting, Neville nicked a purple pointed gem from his pile. Harry gave him a leery look and Neville grinned before tapping it and mouthing, 'amethyst'. Harry rubbed his temples and sighed. Neville was weird.
IIII
Finally, several days later, Harry got some time to himself and made his way into the library. If he heard one more theory about Malfoy being the one opening the chamber, and one more hint that they needed to find some way to question him about it, he'd throttle the idiot. Even if it was Ron. He stalked immediately into the library and to the back corner, and paused in confusion as he found Prince curled at the bottom of a shelf in the main part of the library. Curious, Harry walked over and glanced at the books around him. They were creature books, about different magical beasts, and Harry crouched and glanced over the title Prince had selected, 'Deadly Beastes of Yore' Harry cleared his throat, and Prince immediately shut the book and looked over at him before hissing something Harry thought must be rude under his breath.
"Potter, don't startle me. What do you want?"
Had Harry not been talking with Prince for the last few weeks, he would have been insulted. Instead, Harry just found his insistence amusing, and returned the favour,
"Is Malfoy the one attacking the school?"
Prince's face contorted into an unreadable expression. Harry caught a glimpse of frustration above it all. "No." Prince curtly replied. "Else I'd have throttled him long before now. I have no clue what's causing it, I can't even think of any magical creature that would do it."
"What about a basilisk?" Harry offered, standing with Prince as he moved to return the book to the shelf. Prince stopped.
"Basilisk's kill on sight."
"Indirectly they petrify."
"Mrs. Norris? Creevey had his camera, but her …"
"There was water on the floor. She could have seen the reflection."
Prince shook his head, but pulled the book out once more. "Why are you even thinking about a basilisk anyways?" He asked, flipping through the pages and wandering slowly towards the back corner they usually spoke in. Harry shrugged, feeling mildly uncomfortable.
"I've always liked snakes. If I weren't afraid of what my dad would think, I'd have asked for a pet snake rather than an owl."
Prince gave him a sharp look, and placed his book down slowly. Realizing what he'd admitted, Harry swallowed and paled. He had not meant to say that. After a moment, Harry forced himself to meet Prince's gaze with his own, wanting him to not ask any questions about it. Prince met his eyes for several long moments, before he glanced away.
"You need to remember to keep your face relaxed if you want to intimidate someone, you know." Prince drawled.
Harry blinked. That was so incongruous with what they were discussing Harry wasn't sure he'd heard right. "What?"
Prince grinned coldly. "Your face. You couldn't keep someone out of your business with a look like that. It's pathetic."
Harry glowered at him, growing slowly irritated. "Well, if you're going to pick me apart, I think I'll just leave. Thanks for the answer all the same." Harry stood and left swiftly, more irritated than he'd been before. Telling him to hide his expressions, that he should act like some Slytherin and fake it. Harry wasn't a Slytherin, and he didn't have to act like one. Prince should know that, the Slytherin himself.
IIII
One week before holidays, a notice about a duelling club went up in the front Hall. It was a general consensus that it would be a grand event, and thus Harry, Neville, Ron and Hermione were all present in the Great Hall that evening. Neville took one look at the golden stage and groaned.
"Not him. Anyone but him. Hell, I'd take Snape over him." Harry elbowed him in the side and sneered. Neville stared at him for several long moments, and Harry couldn't figure out why, so he just tempered his expression and jerked his head towards the stage.
"Might as well enjoy him making a fool of himself, then."
Neville cautiously nodded, still watching him oddly.
Lockhart came upon the stage dressed in robes of deep plum. Harry faked gagging in time with Neville and Hermione huffed but didn't tell them to stop. She still was hoping he could bring himself some credit once more, and Harry wasn't going to ruin a good thing by bugging her about it.
"Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me?"
"Unfortunately." Ron muttered. Harry and Neville snickered.
"Now Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions – for full details, see my published works.
"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart said with a smile.
Neville spoke over him, "I'd be running away if Snape directed that look my way; is Lockhart mad?"
"Absolutely barmy!" Ron insisted.
" – Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry; you'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him, never fear!" Lockhart finished.
"I'm more terrified of you fashion sense." Harry drawled, straight-faced. Neville laughed, and Ron sighed.
"Wouldn't it be great if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered.
Harry caught a glare coming their way from among the students and found it to be Prince. When Prince noticed Harry's attention on him, he jerked his chin up and looked at Ron again in irritation. Harry just shrugged and went back to looking at the stage. Why on earth would Neville be irritated with Ron? He supposed as a Slytherin he'd actually like Professor Snape, but everyone knew the other houses did not. Why would he expect different?
Lockhart and Snape faced each other and bowed, Lockhart with much excessive flourish and Snape in a reticent manner. Their wands were raised like swords, and they faced each other at either end of the stage.
"As you see, we are holding out wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."
Neville sighed in feigned disappointment, and Harry elbowed him to point him towards Snape with a faint smile.
"One – Two – Three –"
Snape's spell got through first. "Expelliarmus!" Scarlet light flashed, and Lockhart went tail over teakettle off the stage. Neville, in a fit of precocity, stood and stepped forward and started clapping loudly, smiling brilliantly at Snape. Several other students joined in, and Snape looked at Neville in a mixture of confusion and disgust. Hermione squealed lightly, but refrained from speaking, merely staring after Lockhart in concern, and watching him unsteadily regain his feet.
"Well, there you have it!" He announced, tottering back to the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm. As you see, I've lost my wand – thank you, Ms. Brown. Yes, excellent 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 if would have been only too easy. However I felt it would be instructive for them to see …"
Hermione managed to look just as disgusted as Professor Snape did, and Harry found himself seeing Lockhart doing something intelligent in redirecting the general focus. "Enough demonstrating! We're going to split into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me …"
The crowd was quickly split. Neville ended up against Justin Finch-Fletchey, and Snape reached Ron and Harry first. Ron was placed against Seamus, and Harry was directed to Malfoy, Hermione to Millicent Bullstrode. Harry couldn't help but noticed that Zabini and Prince were paired together. Well, weren't they just peachy.
"Face your partners and bow!" Lockhart directed from the platform. Harry jerked his head in kind to Malfoy's own. "Wands at the ready, when I count to three cast you charms to disarm your opponent – only to disarm them, we don't want any accidents. One … Two … Three"
Harry dodged as Malfoy cast on two, and returned with a firm 'Expelliarmus' in turn. Malfoy dodged, and a second spell came his way, 'Tarantallegra!' Harry reciprocated with 'Rictusempra!" and Malfoy began to laugh. Harry had dodged his spell, and quietly cast 'Silencio' at Malfoy, cutting off his laughter and any further spells.
Lockhart screamed for a halt, but Snape managed much better with a call of "Finite Incantatem" Malfoy stood with a furious look for Harry, but Harry took that moment to glance around the room, through the green haze now drifting about. Justin was on the floor, with Neville helping him up; Seamus and Ron were both apologizing to each other, slightly red-faced. Hermione, however, was in a headlock by Millicent, and Harry quickly went to pry Millicent off. Neville quickly helped, and the bulkier girl let up and walked off. Lockhart skittered around, offering advice and worrying, until he finally announced once more,
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," Lockhart said. Neville muttered something that would get his mouth washed out, and Harry grinned weakly. Lockhart glanced at the furious Snape, and looked across the room once more. "Let's have a volunteer pair, Malfoy and Potter, how about you?"
Harry glared at Malfoy in turn, and grudgingly went to the middle of the hall, where the rest of the students parted to give them space. Lockhart came up behind Harry and Harry purposefully edged away from him with a disgusted look.
"Now Harry,"
"I know the basic shield spell, Lockhart." Harry offered. Lockhart didn't seem to hear, and just continued, once again trying to get far closer than Harry was comfortable with.
"When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."
Lockhart raised his wand and attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart picked it up, and Harry felt his face grow disgusted, as Lockhart muttered, "Oops, my wand is a little over-excited." He cleared his expression as Lockhart looked up though, feigning indifference no greater than before. He saw Snape lean down to whisper in Malfoy's ear, and Malfoy smirked at him across the room. Harry firmly reminded himself of the proper shield charm and met his stare with confidence. Malfoy deflated some, but faced him none-the-less. Harry barely heard him whisper,
"Scared?"
Harry just smirked back and mouthed, "You wish."
Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder, "Just do what I did, Harry."
"What, drop my wand?" Harry asked, askance. He couldn't believe this man!
Lockhart wasn't listening. "Three – Two – One – Go!"
Malfoy raised his wand and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"
Harry watched in shock as a long black snake fell from the end of Malfoy's wand, landing in a coil between them. Harry swore, staring straight at the snake, and barely heard those around him.
"Don't move, Potter." Snape drawled, "I'll get rid of it."
"Allow me," Lockhart shouted. Harry had never felt so scared as he did when Lockhart offered to try and do something. But Lockhart brandished his wand anyways, and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back down with a painful smack. Hissing furiously, it turned and slithered towards the nearest student, Justin Finch-Fletchey, and prepared to strike.
Harry, startled, nervous, and confused at the cacophony of voices, stepped forward to yell, directing his voice at the snake, screaming "Leave him be!" The snake, as he had come to expect, but still didn't understand, subsided and coiled back to the floor, watching him carefully. Harry sighed, and glanced at Justin and felt something cold drop into his stomach. Justin was staring at him, scared and furious.
"What do you think you're playing at?" Harry watched him run from the room, and, as suddenly as he had acted, he realized with cold dread what had just happened, and what was still happening. The room was dead silent; the furious, and irritated voice he'd heard had been the snake's. Harry looked cautiously over at Snape, who casually vanished the creature behind him, and ran straight out of the hall.
A/N: Here's another chapter extra as a tide for the lack in the next three weeks. Enjoy, please review.
Fire and Napalm