*
Claudio:
O,
what men dare do! What men may do! What men daily
do, not knowing
what they do!
Much Ado About Nothing (IV, i, 19-21)
*
Chapter Three
Edgar snatched all of Harry's first year texts on the first day of summer vacation, and eagerly reread them. Knowing about, but waiting, for his attendance letter from Hogwarts was maddening, and luckily the Dursleys didn't let too much change despite the threat of magic hanging over the Potters' heads: they continued to perform their chores and that kept Edgar out of the most trouble and from thinking too much about the magical school.
Having not told the Dursleys about his inability to perform magic during the summer and in a non-magical neighbourhood, Harry was able to get more food, and was allowed to have more control over his life than he previously had before Hogwarts. Edgar also received the benefits of this, and Harry was glad to see that Vernon, Petunia and Dudley remained distant from the Potter brothers.
Harry kept up a steady correspondence with his friends, and even spent several hours during June on the phone with Hermione, much to his relatives' surprise; in fact, after learning she was the daughter of two dental surgeons in Reading with a "normal" sedan, a "normal" career, they seemed more than happy to encourage that friendship.
By mid-July, Harry was planning on taking Edgar for the weekend to Diagon Alley and renting a room for the two of them at the Leaky Cauldron. They could meet up with his friends, and encourage Edgar to explore the magical world and get more exposure to it so he wasn't as ill-prepared as Harry was (or could have been without his brothers' push to study and Kettleburn's cryptic hints).
Edgar was very eager to go to Diagon Alley, and the Dursleys were fairly happy to have the Potter brothers out of the way for a weekend. Harry made plans with Theo and Nate, and Hermione's parents (via a telephone call) offered to chaperone the children—although they implied it was because they actually wanted to see the Alley and the magical world that Hermione was now a part of. Although all the Slytherin students could see through the act, the boys were grateful for the Granger's offer and accepted.
The plan was made and Harry decided to call the Knight Bus instead of taking the Granger's on their offer to come from Reading to Surrey to pick him and Edgar up. Armed with both British pounds and wizarding Galleons, Edgar had Harry up at dawn and the two were on Magnolia Crescent by seven.
Reminded of their first trip on the Knight Bus with Kettleburn nearly a year previous, the two chose sturdy and comfy seats and held on to the armrests, with Harry trying to ignore his rising nausea and Edgar's grin. Harry was even more convinced now that Edgar would be on the Quidditch team for whichever house he'd be sorted into.
Once the Knight Bus dropped off Harry and Edgar outside the Leaky Cauldron, the two boys set out with their plans—first to get a room at the Leaky for the weekend, and then meet Theo, Nate, and the Grangers outside Florean Fortescue's ice cream shop. Introductions were made and the Grangers asked a few questions about the House system—for their benefit and Edgar too, who was quite glad to hear Hermione's opinion on it as well, from being outside Slytherin—and a few others, and then they were off to Gringott's.
Once Harry and Edgar visited their vault and stocked up on their yearly allowance and Edgar made a few additions and changes to their portfolio, the group of five students and two adults slowly meandered down the Alley towards Ollivander's—Flourish and Blott's was going to be left for last, especially knowing Edgar and Hermione's passion for books.
Edgar was nearly splitting his face in his eagerness to get to Ollivander's and receive his wand. Harry, on the other hand, was a bit queasy. He still remembered Ollivander's cryptic words about his wand and Voldemort's being brothers. If his wand was to be a brother to anything, it ought to be his real flesh-and-blood baby brother!
"Ah, Mr. Henry Potter," began Ollivander breezily as the two stepped first into the establishment. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, powerful wand, isn't that right?"
"Yes," answered Harry simply, and Ollivander's eyes slid to greet the remainder of the group entering behind the elder Potter brother.
"Theodore Nott, ash and thestral mane, fifteen and a half inches, excellent for transfiguration; ah! Mr. Nathaniel Moon, elm and Augurey feather, twelve and five-eights… rather swishy." Ollivander seemed happy, bouncing from one magical student to another and offering tidbits about their wands. Harry wasn't sure if that was his normal way of greeting people or if he was showing off for the Grangers. "And Ms. Granger, vine wood and dragon heartstring as its core, twelve and a half inches, very rigid."
The old man turned on his booted heel, his long tailcoat-styled robes swishing about his waist in a Snape-like fashion, until he faced Edgar.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Edgar Potter," he murmured. "Come, come, let us see which wand chooses you. Perhaps even one as powerful and commanding as your brothers'?"
Edgar seemed suddenly bashful, tempted to stay behind his brother in the line up that had formed as the group entered the dingy store. Harry, rolling his eyes, nudged Edgar forward with his shoulder until the younger boy was in front of him.
"It's your wand, Eddy," whispered Harry, "How could you not be excited for it?"
Edgar nodded, straightened and held out his right arm. "This is my wand hand."
"Good, good," nodded Ollivander, who snapped his fingers and a measuring tape flew about Edgar, measuring here and there. The man disappeared behind his store counter and down a long, dark row.
The group could hear him muttering, and Hermione's parents ("Please call us Celia and Tony, dears.") decided to sit on the few offered seats against a low wall that ran parallel to the storefront's dirty and thick glass window, where a single purple cushion held a white wand.
"How long did it take to get your wand?" asked Theo to Harry and Nate, while Hermione began to browse the shop's two racks of books on wand care in front of the counter.
"Twenty minutes or so," answered Nate, absently. He was staring down the aisle that Ollivander meandered.
Harry shrugged. "I think it was barely ten. It seemed he knew which wand I was to have after eliminating the rest."
Theo nodded, glancing at Harry's younger brother as the boy bit his lip and restrained himself from bouncing in place.
Ollivander reappeared rather suddenly from an entirely different aisle to which he went down previously, with several stacked boxes floating behind him. A negligent wave of his wand had the boxes floating behind hover in midair, and some landed softly on his countertop.
"Now, let us see, let us see," the old wizard began, motioning Edgar forward. Ollivander held out a wand from an open box, muttering, "Hawthorn, unicorn mane, thirteen inches…"
Edgar shifted forward, reached out for the wand, and barely dropped his arm in a mid-swish when it was snatched from his grasp and was back in Ollivander's.
"No, no, not unicorn," the man muttered, banishing several boxes back into the dusty recesses of the aisles, while several others flew in the opposite direction towards the front of the shop. "Try oak and dragon heartstring, young Mr. Potter."
That too was snatched from Edgar's grasp as a vase exploded from the far right of the store, causing Celia Granger to shriek in surprise as she and Tony were covered in water drops.
Ollivander dried their clothes with a flick of his wand, casting a nonverbal spell and the Grangers thanked him; Eddy was flushed in embarrassment.
"It's okay, Eddy!" said Harry, "You'll find your wand, promise!"
"Yeah, it's all cool, Eddy," cheered Nate and Theo, calling their own encouragement to the younger Potter.
Hermione even offered her own support, "It took me nearly an hour to find my wand, Edgar; don't worry about it."
Bolstered, the young Potter continued through several more wands: oak, ash, three holly based wands, nearly six elms until he found out willow-based wands worked best. From there, it was all about the core: unicorn was out right away, and so was dragon heartstring. From there, Ollivander began guessing randomly (or so Harry thought) until Edgar grasped the latest wand twenty minutes later and a golden glow surrounded him.
Those in the store cheered and Tony Granger even whistled loudly between two fingers in his mouth.
"Ah, bravo, bravo young Mr. Potter!" exulted Ollivander. "Willow, griffin feather, twelve inches and seven-eights... a wand made for defence and, I daresay, very strong spellcasting."
"Great job, Eddy," murmured Harry as he reached forward and clasped his brother on the shoulder, and drew him in towards him for a tight, quick hug. "A brilliant wand—I know you're going to be a great wizard."
"Thanks," murmured Edgar back, squeezing his brother just as tightly. Before they separated, though, Edgar felt Harry slip something into his hand.
"Kings to you, brother," Harry said, lowly, as Ollivander tallied the price of the wand and Theo and Nate decided to chip in together and purchase a wand holster for Edgar.
Edgar looked down at his hand, fisted slightly, to the black king piece. He smirked, a tiny little twitch of his lips, and slid the chess piece into his jeans pocket.
The next stop on everyone's list was Flourish and Blott's for their books, as Edgar would use Harry's old items that he didn't need anymore (which only consisted of his Hogwarts robes that he outgrew the past year, and several texts he finished).
The first thing the group noticed was that there was a line that extended past the open, double doors leading into the three-storey bookstore.
Theo nudged Harry. "Look, they're all women."
Nate, who had been explaining something to the Grangers and Edgar, the three of which were listening to intently, failed to notice the byplay. Hermione, however, huffed. "Honestly, didn't the two of you read the Daily Prophet?"
Harry glanced sideways at Hermione, with a slight scowl on his face. "Granger, seriously; do you think my relatives would let an owl deliver a wizards newspaper to their perfect little house?"
Hermione flushed at the slight, but let it pass. Instead, she answered her own question. "Gilderoy Lockhart is here doing a book signing and reading."
Theo snorted and coughed to disguise his scorn. "That fool?"
Hermione's flush deepened. "He's written a ton of excellent self-help books!"
"Self-help fiction more like," sneered Theo at the girl of the group, and then sneering at the female line up. "He's a ponce, Granger. He's got big blue eyes and fluffy blond hair and he's won Witch Weekly's best smile however many years in a row… but he's still a bloody ponce worth nothing more than a knut."
Hermione shook in rage. "How dare you—he's written about amazing encounters—more than could be said about you Theodore Nott—he's talented!"
"Talented in bollocks, maybe," continued Theo, with a smirk. "He's a laughing stock of the academic world, Granger. Do your research for once. Didn't Harry tell you that books lie? And he's the biggest liar there is!"
Harry looked very uncomfortable here, caught between his best friend and Hermione as the two argued across his face. Hermione's parents saw his reaction when they realised that they, Nate and Edgar had neared the door without the other three.
As Celia came close to intervene before a round of fisticuffs broke out between Theo and Hermione, Hermione decided that they were not worth her time and barged past her parents, pushing Nate out of the way, and barrelled into Flourish and Blott's; she left her parents, Edgar, Nate, Theo and Harry standing outside in stunned silence.
"She must get that from you," Celia finally commented, looking at her husband. "You tend to run away from a fight whenever you're proven wrong too."
Tony looked wounded, and shot his wife an eye roll, before ushering the Slytherin second years and Edgar into the shop.
"Sorry about that, boys," the toothy, brown-haired Muggle said, cringing a bit. "Hermione's had a hard time accepting that she can be wrong when she's so used to being right."
Nothing was said, and Harry pulled Edgar away from the group to find his first year texts. Theo and Nate took the Grangers in search of Hermione, and they offered to meet up on the second floor by the staircase in an hour.
Pulling Edgar's list out of the Hogwarts envelope, Harry scoffed. "Clearly, Lockhart's our Defence professor." A loud cheer from the crowd on the first floor drew their attention and they leaned over the banister, staring at the crowd for several long, silent minutes.
The two Potters had equal looks of contempt on their faces as Lockhart arrived in a flourish of green silk and a toss of his velvet cape over one shoulder. Both Harry and Eddy had dark scowls on, their brown and green eyes narrowed behind their spectacles.
"What an arse," muttered Edgar, finally.
"Can I bite him, Henry?" hissed Caesar, peeking between Harry's collar of the Oxford-and-T-shirt combination he was wearing. "He is your Defence instructor this year, is he not?"
"Later," hissed Harry negligently. "And we'd have to make it look like an accident. Plan something."
Caesar hissed back his affirmative, and Harry rolled his eyes at Eddy, who laughed at the conversation. "Let's find you some real defence books, little brother."
*
The group met up without hitch, and Harry was pleased to see that Theo and Hermione were involved in a conversation and ignoring everyone else; Harry took that as a sign that they made up from their earlier fight, although Celia Granger was keeping a keen eye on her daughter—so perhaps not everything was all right… Harry was certain Hermione was going to get an earful at home that evening.
As the group descended the steps, Harry kept one eye on the large crowd that seemed to be hanging on every lie that fell from Lockhart's lips. The blond, flashy wizard had moved to a cleared space next to the stairs, where the most natural light filtered through a large, domed skylight, illuminating all three floors. A low table and chair were pushed near the crowd, and several books of Magical Me, Lockhart's biography, were displayed.
"Oh, look!" called out Hermione, drawing the groups' attention to her, as she pointed at a single person in the crowd. Harry's eyes darted to the miserable-looking, plump Neville Longbtoom, standing next to his formidable grandmother in a vulture-hat. "It's Neville! I'm going to go say hello!"
The girl darted forward and breezed past Harry, lightly tapping him on the shoulder but with enough force that Harry reeled back from it—half expecting a swinging swipe from Petunia, Dudley, or Vernon despite his current location—and over balanced into an excited Lockhart who was sweeping his arm back to gesture.
"Ah, my apologies, young man, I didn't see you there," the wizard beamed, casting a look at the adoring public. "Eager for an autograph, of course you are, let me just grab my pen—great Merlin! Harry Potter!"
Harry mentally groaned as Lockhart grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him into his side; a photographer from the Daily Prophet snapped a picture of the two, and Harry plastered a vacant, bored look on his face instead of the annoyed one he was sporting.
"Witches and wizards—it's my great pleasure to announce that I, yes, I, Gilderoy Lockhart—that's winner of Witch Weekly's Best Smile category eight times in a row," he flashed his pearly whites at the crowd and a witch swooned into a faint, "Will help educate our talented witches and wizards at Hogwarts this year. Yes, you heard right—I will be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor! And who better than a man who has faced such dangers as werewolves—nay, vampires!! Not once, but thrice!"
The crowd loved it, and Lockhart's agent, a vapid looking, but beady-eyed brunette in pinstripe robes dumped a ribbon-tied collection of Lockhart's books in Harry's arms.
"Compliments of Gilderoy," she breezed, "Although such a gift is not to be considered as a token of friendship, or means that you can use his name and image for your own personal gains."
"… Whatever," said Harry, rolling his eyes and turning on his heel to face his friends and brother, the latter of which stood anxiously.
Harry did his best to manage around the crowd, the ribbon-tied books swaying dangerously in his underdeveloped arms, but despite the strain Harry managed to make it to Theo and Nate, only bumping into a large group of redheads who blocked his path at the last moment.
He physically groaned out loud.
"Oh, my dear, dear boy," crooned a high-pitched and loud voice. "Percy, help the poor dear!"
A tall, gangly red-haired boy (presumably Percy) reached forward and helped Harry by lifting the book collection from his arms.
"Thanks," said Harry, breathing heavily through his nose.
"You're welcome," the redhead began, looking him up and down and then finishing, "Mr. Potter."
There was a bubble of silence that formed around him for a brief moment, until something bushy nearly collided with him.
"Oh, Harry I'm so sorry!" Hermione was babbling, and Harry found it to keep up with her. Her parents, Edgar, Theo and Nate appeared behind her and on the fringe of the redheads moments after she finished speaking. "I didn't even think when I saw Neville, because I just had to go over and say hello and then you got caught by Lockhart…"
"Breathe, Hermione. Breathe," instructed Harry, rolling his eyes over her head at Theo, who smirked and hid it behind his hand.
Harry turned to Percy. "Thanks, again, Percy." He paused. "It's Weasley, right? The prefect from Gryffindor?" At Percy's surprised nod, Harry continued. "I already bought my books for the upcoming year, so if you'd like, you can keep those. Lockhart's agent didn't stop to ask, and I really have no need or room for them to be lying about."
"Ah," blinked Percy, surprised. He looked down at the large collection, and then at his siblings. Fred and George Weasley, the twins that Harry only knew by reputation and by warning to stay away from, were watching Harry carefully; Ron Weasley, who Harry knew quite well to be vocal and narrow-minded, was glaring at Harry and what Harry was sure was his 'charity'. The final Weasley that Harry saw was a small red-haired girl with large brown eyes, similar to Eddy's, and a splatter of freckles across her nose.
"I'm sure Ginny could use the books, didn't you say so, Mum?" queried Percy, turning to his mother, who was looking gobsmacked at Harry. The older woman blinked twice before shutting her mouth and nodding.
"Yes, yes, of course, but are you sure, dear?" the woman asked, looking askance at the book collection.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah, Eddy already got the collection last year so we've already got it," he lied, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets and rocking back on his heel. Edgar quickly glared at him but then adopted an innocent, suffering look when the group turned to him.
"Edgar…?" trailed off Percy, glancing between the two. A look of understanding passed through him. "You have a brother?"
Edgar scowled. Turning to his brother, he drawled, "You get all the fortune and glory, don't you, Henry?"
"Piss off," the older brother cheerfully replied, ignoring Mrs. Weasley's shocked gasp and the slight scold from Celia.
"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley, a ruddy-nosed man with a large bald spot, "Are you starting Hogwarts too?"
Edgar nodded. "This year."
"So's our little Ginny," the Weasley matron continued the conversation, smoothing a hand down the girl's straight red hair. The girl, Ginny, blushed heavily and glanced from Edgar to Harry, and then lowered her eyes as her flush deepened. The twins snickered. "Did you two need help? Shown around Diagon Alley?"
The woman seemed very straightforward, but Harry could hear the earnest tone and pushy notes to her voice. Harry felt a mask drop on his face, and behind him, he could practically feel Edgar tense.
"No, thank you, we know our way around Diagon Alley already," answered Harry, coolly, as he stepped back a bit.
"Oh?" the Weasley matron seemed confused. "But how, dear?"
"We were shown by Professor Kettleburn last year," offered Harry, as Edgar stepped up behind him, and Nate and Theo moved to his side. "And we're already with company at the moment."
Mrs. Weasley's wide-eyes slid over Harry's cool and stiff form to near identical expressions from Nate and Theo. She clearly recognised them and was ready to say something when another voice interrupted her.
"Ah, the Weasley family, and… Mr. Nott, Mr. Moon; oh, and Mr. Potter as well."
The group turned, nearly as one, to face a tall, black-dressed man with blond hair tied back from the nape of his neck. Draco Malfoy stood beside the man, wearing a similar, haughty expression.
"Draco," the Slytherin boys muttered together in greeting. Hermione and her parents remained silent and Edgar tipped his chin down in greeting, but said nothing.
"Malfoy," Ron Weasley hissed.
"Weasley," replied Draco with contempt. He turned away from the redhead to face Harry, Theo and Nate. "Father, have you met my fellow Slytherins? Of course you remember Theodore; beside him are Nathaniel Moon and Harry Potter, and…?"
"Edgar Potter," Harry introduced his brother. "My little brother."
"Pleasure," replied Malfoy, lifting his walking stick with his right hand, similar to doffing a hat. Harry noted his other hand held tight a grey-covered book, similar to the pattern on Lockhart's Wandering with Werewolves. Malfoy wasn't seriously getting a Lockhart book signed??
While Harry contemplated Malfoy being a fan of Lockhart, he was nudging his friends and brother closer to the Grangers and the main entrance of the store, eager to leave. He knew of the Weasley/Malfoy feud and had no desire to be caught up between it.
However, the wish was unheard and within moments the two youngest males were squabbling and suddenly Mr. Weasley was swinging his arm up and Mr. Malfoy was staggering back—and it became an all-out brawl.
Celia shrieked and pulled Hermione away from the fray, clutching the feather-light bags filled with the schoolchildren's purchases, and Harry pushed Eddy behind him, barking, "Stay with the Grangers, Edgar!"
Edgar obeyed, and Celia gathered him close and then ushered him and Hermione out of the store, with Tony remaining behind. The tall, broad-shouldered Muggle grabbed Harry by the shoulder and yanked him and Theo back from a rogue, fisted hand. Nate ducked another fist, and Tony Granger grabbed the back of his robe and pulled him towards the older man and then out of the store.
The group stood by the doorway, next to the glass window, and caught their breaths. Seconds later, the two Malfoys stumbled out, with their hair messy and faces flushed, but they maintained their dignity which was more than Harry could see from the Weasleys.
Mr. Malfoy nodded at the Slytherin boys, ignored the Grangers, and sniffed, "Come along, Draco," to his son and took off down the cobblestone lane, towards Gringott's.
"See you at school," muttered Draco, taking off after his father.
Curious, thought Harry, as he glanced over his shoulder at the pair, Mr. Malfoy had dropped his signed book. He shrugged; it was of no importance to him.
*
Harry, Theo, Nate and Hermione had a compartment to themselves on the Hogwarts Express; Harry had nervously encouraged Edgar to make friends on the train and to mingle with those in his year.
Despite being very glad that Edgar was joining Harry at Hogwarts, he was also very nervous and anxious about his brother's presence in the school. For years, Harry had done his best to protect Edgar from the darker aspects of Little Whinging and the bullying. Harry had revealed once to Albus Dumbledore that Eddy would one day learn that Harry did things to keep him safe and that he would not appreciate them when the truth was revealed.
The messier, darker politics that came to play at Little Whinging were still in existence and they existed at Hogwarts as well. Being in Slytherin meant that Harry had to be smarter, faster, better than his classmates and dorm mates; these were the students who would one day become to politicians and CEOs in the magical world—the important and powerful.
While Harry took the brunt of bully's fists and their jeers, he carefully ensured that Edgar was kept out of the way and never saw the full extent of the damage that was wrought. Harry protected his face and hands and neck but allowed for hits to land on his chest and back and legs—those he could hide. Harry sacrificed his studies and time in the library to maintain a public appearance for bullies to focus on whilst Edgar was safely hidden in the libraries and under the watchful gazes of authority figures and adults. Harry snuck food for Edgar at the Dursleys and gave almost all of the portions he stole to his brother so he could grow strong and tall, eating only the basic necessity to survive.
Protecting Eddy had been on Harry's mind when he accepted Hogwarts' invitation; but with Edgar now attending the same school, he would learn the same tricks and games to protect his self—would he need his big brother to watch his back? Better still, could Harry ever stop protecting Edgar and working from the shadows and behind the scenes to keep Edgar from knowing just how dirty Harry's hands were?
Harry wasn't proud of the things he'd done in the past; there were times when he initiated fights in the schoolyard because he heard whispers of plans and derogatory comments towards his brother… not because something had actually happened.
There were times when Harry deliberately blackmailed or threatened other students or young adults in the Little Whinging area to ensure Eddy's happiness and protection when Harry couldn't be there: nights Eddy had to walk back to Privet Drive from the library alone, getting extra food from a local restaurant after learning about the owner's affair; Harry even once threatened Piers Polkiss, Dudley's friend, after catching the then ten-year-old with a pack of pills that he was trying to sell.
Edgar did not ever need to know about those events.
But now he was in a new area, one that Harry couldn't control, and he was very nervous about Edgar going off on his own and being hurt.
Nate nudged him on the seat and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.
"You're clucking," the brown-haired, blue-eyed Slytherin said. "He'll be fine. Stop worrying."
Christ! Thought Harry, I'm turning into a right mother hen. He gave Nate a rueful grin. "Can't help but worry 'bout him; he's my little brother."
"Exactly," answered Hermione primly. "He's your brother. He can handle himself Harry. You've made sure of that, I'm positive."
Harry shook his head. "He's got no idea what he's up against. I kept a lot from him."
Nate and Hermione seemed confused, but Theo nodded slowly. The subject was dropped, despite Harry's rather anxious hand-wringing, and finally Hermione huffed, and left the compartment only to return with Cedric, and his friends Mike Summers, Horatio Landon and Gorman Cerwyn. The compartment was suddenly crowded and loud, and Harry was grateful for Hermione's intervention. The noise and boisterous company kept Harry from thinking and worrying about Edgar.
The company remained with the three Slytherins and Gryffindor until they split up at their house tables; Hermione at the far left of the Great Hall, next to the Ravenclaws and then Cedric to the aisle that ran perpendicular to the Slytherin table so that Harry and his friends were nearly back-to-back with him and his now fourth-year friends. Harry noted that around him at the Slytherin table were mainly silent and studious fifth-years, all anxious about their upcoming OWL year; Draco and the other yearmates were further down the table. A clear division in the year had already begun, but Harry felt no loss of friendship.
Harry craned his neck as the new first-years entered from the side door behind the professor's table, and easily spotted Edgar, who looked impossibly small and pale beneath his messy black hair.
McGonagall was calling the names out, and Harry took only the tiniest bit of interest in who went where, although he did watch who his brother took notice of.
"Creevey, Colin," was sorted into Hufflepuff and Harry saw Edgar clap for him, as well as a spacey, blonde-haired girl by the name of "Lovegood, Luna," who went to the Ravenclaws. Finally, it was his turn.
"Potter, Edgar!"
"Another Potter?"
"There's an Edgar Potter? Who'd have thought?"
"I bet he's in Slytherin with his brother!"
"He's such a Gryffindor, look at him!"
Whispers started up and Harry swallowed a lump in his throat.
"He'll do fine," whispered Theo from his right, leaning forward a bit to speak into Harry's ear. "He's your brother; you know whatever house he's in you'll take care of him."
"He's smart, Henry, he'll do fine," assured Nate from Harry's left, glancing back over his shoulder.
Harry nodded, still tense, and ended up in a half-squat on the Slytherin bench, looking over Nate's shoulder. Cedric, from behind him on the Hufflepuff bench, was leaning out into the aisle and nearly touching Harry, just as tense.
The two caught each other's eyes, and Cedric nodded fleetingly, and Harry remembered what the Hufflepuff boy said before Harry's own sorting: no matter where he or Eddy went, they were his friends.
The hat was lowered on Edgar and nearly engulfed his tiny frame, the brim settling on the wide lenses of his spectacles and pushing them to his nose tip, threatening to slip right off Edgar's nose.
Finally, after a few moments, the hat exploded, "RAVENCLAW!"
The second to the left table erupted into cheers and catcalls, and Gryffindor, Slytherin and Hufflepuff all clapped politely, except Harry and his friends who cheered just as loudly as Ravenclaw.
Harry and Edgar caught each others' eyes and Edgar, despite being quite pale, gave a shaky smile. Harry returned it with a beam of his own, mouthing, way to go. He then turned his back on the Ravenclaw table, and concentrated on the conversation between Theo and Nate, inputting his own thoughts here and there.
Edgar could manage the rest of the night on his own, after all.
*
Harry's first week of classes went by quickly; the growing distance between himself, his friends, and Draco Malfoy and his group was noticeable to those who had previously spent time with the students the year before, but not-so-noticeable for the general Hogwarts population.
Harry caught Snape giving an approving look at Draco several times when the blond Slytherin managed to snub Harry and his friends at the table or during study period by maintaining a very public distance, but those unaware of Slytherin politics did not notice the slight. Theo, however, took great exception to the slight and spent the majority of their free time grumbling about it at Harry.
"Who does he think he is, just because his father is on the Board of Governors, or makes regular donations to St. Mungo's?" the young, weedy boy sneered. "He only makes the donations because everyone knows that he's nothing more than a Death Eater, buying his way out of Azkaban."
Harry rolled his eyes at Nate, who pursed his lips and turned his attention back to their defence books; none of the boys had purchases the Lockhart set, and continued reading books they preferred for their defence class.
Harry bit his lip, resolved to not say anything, and let Theo work his frustrations out in their coursework, until he nearly blew up the teapot they were transfiguring into a turtle.
"Calm the hell down," he finally muttered, furious. "Don't draw attention to it, that's all the little wanker cares about. He's doing it to rile us, but you know he doesn't hold that much power. Worry about it once we're in our fifth year. He's worthless, Theo."
It took several more minutes, but Theo was finally able to complete his transfiguration work without any more mishaps, and Nate breathed a near-silent sigh of relief behind them, where he shared his desk with Hermione.
Professor McGonagall noticed the exchange but didn't say anything in front of the class; she did, however, give Harry a very approving nod, glanced at his desk at his completed and slowly ambling turtle, and looked back at the eldest Potter with a thinly-veiled look of pride on her face.
After the evening meal concluded on the first Friday of the school year, Snape left the professor's table with a sour expression on his face, and began walking down the length of the Slytherin table until he stopped by Harry.
"Potter," the man sneered, "the Headmaster wants to see you in his office. Now."
Harry glanced up, in confusion—surely he hadn't done anything to warrant his Head of House's attention this early in the school year?—, and shared a quick glance with his friends, who gave him tiny nods of encouragement and confusion. From behind him, in his usual spot, Cedric murmured, "Go on, Henry."
From the corner of his eye, he spotted tiny Professor Flitwick stopping to speak with Edgar, and understanding dawned; the Headmaster wanted to speak to both of them about their placements at Hogwarts, and possibly to apologise to Edgar like he had done for Harry the previous year.
Harry offered to take Edgar to the Headmaster's office, as he knew the way, and Flitwick nodded and gave Harry the password. As the two walked, Harry pointed out portraits and classrooms for Edgar to remember. The two chatted, Harry with his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets and watching with a proud gleam as Eddy recited things he'd read about in Hogwarts: A History to Harry about the school, and what he learnt so far.
"Gummi Bears," offered Harry, once they reached the stone gargoyle protecting the Headmasters' office. The statute gave its consent and moved aside, revealing a circular staircase. Harry ushered Edgar on it and once they were both firmly standing on a single step, the stairs began an upwards spiral.
Edgar gave a rather undignified squeak of surprise, and Harry did his best to muffle a guaff of laughter.
"You could've warned me," the young Ravenclaw grumbled.
Harry grinned at his little brother unrepentantly.
As the stairs reached the top of the tower, the door to Dumbledore's office was open; Harry decided to knock politely on the wood regardless, and waited for Dumbledore to speak.
"Ah, come in, Henry, Edgar."
The two Potters gingerly stepped into the office and Harry was quite happy to see that it remained the same as his previous visit: cluttered and welcoming.
"Please, have a seat," offered Dumbledore, almost absently as he finished writing on a yellowish parchment with a long, eagle quill.
The two boys waited, each in a squishy armchair in front of Dumbledore large, ostentatious desk. Finally, he put the quill down, tapped the parchment once with his wand. The parchment rolled into a scroll mid-air and a wax seal appeared, sealing it with the Hogwarts crest. It then floated gently over to a large pile of rolled scrolls on a low side table.
Dumbledore folded his fingers and peered at the Potter brothers, quirking a smile at Harry, who returned the smile with one of his own. Edgar, however, remained impassive.
"There were no problems with your first week?" the older wizard began.
Harry shook his head, already relaxing into the armchair. Edgar remained stiff beside him, but also shook his head.
"Sir, if I may ask," began Harry, curious about one item, "Why did you hire Professor Lockhart?"
Dumbledore hid a smile behind his hand as he peered over his spectacles at Harry. "Do you not think him an adequate professor, Harry? Capable of teaching you and your schoolmates?"
Harry grimaced. "I'd learn more from a hag, Professor Dumbledore."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Professor Lockhart has an impressive resume, and his quite capable of handling the defence class."
"Resume of what, sir?" finally asked Edgar, contempt in his tone. "Failure? I'm quite sure his only impressive talent is in acting."
The teasing light in Dumbledore's eyes slightly faded, and his face took on a more serious expression. "At the moment, Professor Lockhart is the best option available. I am in the process of already screening several potentials for next year, and of the few who have applied to the position, there is one or two that I am quite lobbying for."
"Applied to the position?" queried Harry, "I haven't seen anything in the Daily Prophet about you looking for applicants. How do they know you're looking to hire, sir?"
Dumbledore seemed grateful for Harry's interjection, and replied, "Ah, did you not know, Harry? There is a curse on the Defence position!"
"Curse?" echoed Edgar, sceptically.
Dumbledore nodded. "Since the late seventies, that is, nineteen seventies, none of our defence professors have remained on past their first year. In fact, this occurred just two years after your parents' graduation."
"And Quirrell?" asked Harry, interested.
"He was our Muggle Studies professor before his transfer to Defence, and, as you know, he did not manage to maintain the position," explained Dumbledore.
Harry's eyes narrowed. He knew who cursed the position; however, it did mean that Lockhart would only remain on staff until the end of the school year or earlier.
"And now, I must get to the point of my asking you here," continued Dumbledore, turning to fully face Edgar. "I wish to offer my apology for placing you at your aunt's, Edgar. I had not known that Petunia would treat you and Henry as she has, and yet, even if I knew then what I know now, I would still place you there for your protection."
"Protection," sneered the younger Potter, his voice bitter, and tinged with what Harry recognised as defeat. "What protected us from Dudley, or Vernon and Petunia when they were angry with us? What good is protection from outside influence if you cannot be protected from within?"
"Edgar!" gasped Harry, agast. He was shocked at Edgar's tone and words. He knew his brother was harbouring some bitterness from last years' conversation and what Harry had told him of Dumbledore's apology, but he had hoped that the months away would have given Edgar some more maturity and growing experience.
"No, Harry, it is fine," sighed Dumbledore, his blue eyes clouded as he regarded the youngest Potter. "Edgar is more than right. There was nothing to protect you from dangerous forces within the Dursley household. It was a gross oversight."
"Damn straight!" shot back Edgar, slowly rising from his seat as he spewed more and more vitriol. "And what will you do to fix it, sir?" the tone turned sarcastic. "Will you send the Dursleys a note telling them to behave? Will you come by, in your purple robes and typical wizard appearance and tell them what they can and cannot do to us? What gives you the right to decide where Harry and I should live?"
Dumbledore's eyes remained clouded as Edgar threw accusation after accusation at the old wizard. Finally standing, the younger Potter trembled in emotion, and at Dumbledore's impassive face—clearly stating that he wasn't going to receive any answers that would please him or be what he wanted to hear—Edgar gave a wordless snarl of anger and stormed out of the office, stomping down the stone stairs.
Harry and Dumbledore remained silent, listening to the gargoyle's statue grate across the flagstone floor, opening, and then closing. Finally, Harry tentatively offered, "I'm sorry. He doesn't see it the same way that I do, sir…"
Dumbledore sighed, slumping slightly in his seat and Harry privately wondered if he was seeing a side to Dumbledore that most others do not. "It is fine, Harry," he began, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It was much to hope that you and your brother would share the same opinion of my post-war actions."
After a few moments of silence, as Harry couldn't think of anything to help the older wizard, Harry asked, "Why did you place us with the Dursleys, Professor? It must be more than the blood wards."
Dumbledore looked uncomfortable at the question. "You are correct, Harry." He paused, stroking his beard thoughtfully, and he eyed Harry speculatively. "If I do tell you, you must not tell anyone else, Henry. It is important—despite your placement of Slytherin and not being what I feared you could become—should others learn of this, it may be used against you."
Harry nodded, promising to not tell a soul, even Edgar, if that was what Dumbledore wanted—as long as he received thorough answers, of course. Caesar, undoubtedly, would be told of the conversation, having been dropped off at Kettleburn's office.
"In an ideal world, had your parents died under normal circumstances, you and Edgar would be placed with your godfather, Harry," said Dumbledore slowly, choosing his words carefully. "However, due to several… events that occurred directly after Halloween, he was unable to take responsibility for you and Edgar. There was no one else that I could trust your wellbeing with, as at the time, one of your parents' close friends was revealed as a spy."
"And you figured that if they could get past my parents', then they could get past you," deduced Harry, nodding absently. "Anyone else could be fair game. You didn't know who to trust us with."
"Yes," hedged Dumbledore, slowly. He seemed to be waiting for something.
"And as for that level of interest in my brother and I?" asked Harry, who mentally ticked a point when he saw Dumbledore's wince. "I thought so. We're a special case—you don't do this for all the other orphans."
"True," agreed Dumbledore. "There is a reason as to why I have such a stake in you, and your brother's, continued existence."
"Will you tell me?" asked Harry.
Dumbledore looked pained, and his eyes darted from Harry's emerald and skittered over his knickknack collection to a far window, and they glazed over in memory. "Not just yet, Henry. You deserve to live and experience life before I burden you."
"Do you think I already haven't burdened myself by taking care of my brother by all means necessary?" he asked, quietly.
The headmaster sighed. "No, you are correct. You have done more than a child your age should… but to me, Harry, you must remember: you are still very much a child. And what I would reveal to you would strip that away from you, whatever is left of your childhood."
"And when will you decide that I'm ready for that, sir?" asked Harry, politely, calmly. "Is it something you decide or is it something that I should?"
Again, Dumbledore looked pained, but his eyes returned to Harry's. "If, by your OWL year, you believe yourself ready to know why I have such an interest in you and your brother, Harry, then I will tell you. But I will warn you now and only this once: once I tell you, things will change. Your life will be much harder than it is now, and those you call friend, you might not say then; for the truth is a great and terrible thing, Harry—and it has the capacity to hurt you more than any wound."
"I'll remember sir," promised Harry, rising from his seat. He had entered the office content and rather calm—but he left it confused… and more than slightly worried.
The sorting hat's word echoed through him as he made his way to the Slytherin common room; but this time taking on a much darker quality than they had previously.
A touch of destiny.
*
After Dumbledore's revelations about their home life, Harry and Edgar found themselves at odds… more so than they had the previous year when Dumbledore spoke to Harry. Edgar didn't like how Harry seemed to be taking sides, and Harry didn't like how Edgar couldn't see that it was war.
Harry was slightly disturbed by Edgar's near devotion to a strict set of authorial rules to govern people, especially given their history with the local police force, child's service, and the adults on Privet Drive who happily turned their heads in the other direction when they saw the 'delinquent' Potter brothers.
However, in the end, Harry reckoned it was a bizarre twist that Edgar was fascinated by justice and authority because of their lack of exposure to it—and therefore he hoped that all authority or those in positions of authority weren't as crooked as they experienced. Dumbledore's admission must have been quite the shock.
Harry let Edgar have his space—and Hogwarts was more than large enough for it. He remained mainly in the library with Theo, Nate and Hermione or on the Quidditch pitch when the teams' weren't practicing with his older Hufflepuff friends, playing football and cricket.
Edgar, he learnt, stuck to the Ravenclaw common with his friends Luna Lovegood and Gareth Octavian, or wandered the Hogwarts' halls with his Hufflepuff friend Colin Creevey, who had a camera and took pictures of everything and everyone (and nearly blinded Harry in the process, as he was quite taken with Edgar's older brother). He kept one eye on his brother and one hear in the Hogwarts' gossip vine in case his brother had any difficulties, but between the older Hufflepuffs watching him through Cedric's insistence, and Edgar's own perseverance, Harry didn't hear much.
In the meantime, within a week of school starting, a message appeared on the second floor in blood, near the girls' bathroom, declaring that the 'Chamber of Secrets was open, once more!' Harry hadn't a clue, but knew instinctively that people would blame him or Edgar, and remained as visible as possible on Caesar's and Cedric's urging.
By mid-October, Harry knew Edgar could handle his own about Hogwarts despite the Chamber of Secrets messages, and with no complaints from any professors on his performance, Harry decided to turn his attention towards his own education and socialising, and told himself that when Eddy was ready to talk to him about Dumbledore, he would.
However, Harry wasn't too sure about handling himself against the entire school. He was in the Great Hall, studying with Cedric and Cedric's friends when the second message and first petrified victim—Mr. Filch's cat Mrs. Norris—was found, on Halloween. Almost immediately, a war cry started up, with people in each house eager to blame someone else: and Harry's name repeatedly came up.
Cedric quickly pointed out Harry was with him the whole time, and Cedric's reputation saved Harry's arse. However, it did slightly damage Cedric's, as well as his friends', Mike, Horatio and Gorman—all of who previously had clean slates and were now suddenly pariahs of Hogwarts for sticking with Harry the Slytherin, the next Dark Lord.
"I don't like this," said Harry, that Halloween evening, after leaving Dumbledore's office with Cedric and his friends. "People seem more than happy to turn me into this scapegoat despite evidence against it… and to take you with me!" He snorted. "Hufflepuffs! As loyal minions to a Dark Lord!"
"You have to admit," began Horatio, a tall, curly-haired teen with brown eyes and a long neck, "that Hufflepuffs would make excellent minions because of how loyal we are."
"Yes, Rio," said Cedric, rolling his eyes, "Just go ahead and confirm the school's suspicions, why don't you?"
Mike and Gorman laughed, and Harry smirked along with Cedric, who grinned at Horatio's flush. The five were walking towards the kitchens—having shown Harry earlier that year and just locating it themselves—when Harry suddenly paused, his back eerily straight.
"Harry?" asked Cedric, a confused tone in his voice.
"Shh!"
The Hufflepuffs shared a confused look, as Harry's eyes darted back and forth, from wall to wall, portrait to portrait.
"Kill. Must kill—so hungry, so very, very hungry."
"Do you hear that?" hissed Harry, turning quickly in his spot as he tried to locate the voice, as it moved quickly from one spot along the wall to another. "Is there someone disillusioned here?"
Cedric frowned, but he and his friends cast several finites around the area and failed to reveal a lurking student or professor. "Are you alright, Harry?"
"I don't like this, Cedric," repeated Harry, echoing his words but now for another reason. "Why am I hearing someone that no one else can?"
Cedric's frown deepened, and then a look of something passed over his face, but his quick glances at his friends kept him quiet. Harry caught the look though. It said, later.
Once Cedric had said his goodbye's to his friends, under the guise of escorting Harry to the Slytherin common room (which Harry saw right through and then rolled his eyes at the gullibility of the Hufflepuffs who didn't question it), he turned to his younger friend and demanded, "What did the voice say?"
"It was hungry. It wanted to kill," replied Harry promptly. He trusted Cedric implicitly.
"What did it sound like?"
"Sort of like a hissing, the vowels were… all… drawn… ah." Harry eyed Cedric. "It was a snake."
He nodded, his eyes shaded in the dark Slytherin hallways. "If people find out, Harry… you know what they'll say."
"I know," the Potter boy replied. He eyed his friend. "What about you, Ced? Are you going to stand by the next Dark Lord?"
Cedric laughed. "You are hardly a Dark Lord, Harry, and you don't have it in you to be one. But yeah, I reckon I'll stand by you if it gets worse. I made you a promise, didn't I?"
"But at the cost of your reputation in the school? These people don't forget," argued Harry. He swallowed thickly and hoped Cedric wouldn't pull away.
To his relief, the teen didn't. Again, Cedric's eyes glittered with the emotion that Harry only saw once from him, when Theo left the train compartment and before Harry was sorted. It was dark, and Harry inwardly shivered. "I don't forget, either, Harry."
*
In November, Edgar's friend Colin Creevey was petrified, and fingers once again were pointed at Harry, who bore them with strained silence and gritted anger. Theo was the one calming Harry down in class, but Harry's rage at his flippant schoolmates manifested itself into cool stares and icy, clipped tones.
His school performance didn't suffer; instead, he decided to maintain his academic persona but that too backfired, as students whispered he was looking up ways to hex them in their sleep. He was corrupting the Hufflepuffs with his association with Cedric; he was targeting the Muggleborns through Hermione in Gryffindor.
It was absurd.
Because of that, he nearly decided to not attend the Duelling Club Lockhart and Snape were hosting in December. In the end, he attended at Theo's urging, although he remained far behind the rest of the students, who clamoured for front-row seats: they were all eager to see Snape toss Lockhart on his arse, instead of eager for the club itself. Harry thought it was the first time anyone ever cheered the sour and rude potions professor on.
Edgar was back talking to him in light of the "Chamber of Secrets" and "Heir of Slytherin" nonsense, which was a plus in Harry's opinion, but still things were slightly strained as they, again, agreed to disagree. The younger Potter brother was off to the side of the stage, located behind Lockhart to avoid the man's attention, and Harry full-heartedly approved.
Sandwiched between Nate and Theo, the three Slytherins remained as quiet and unassuming as they could, and Harry nearly grinned when he saw Hermione sigh as Lockhart did a flourish with his wand that was worthless. The girl was still obsessing over the fraud, despite Theo's loud objections. It seemed that she and the other females of the school were the only one's who couldn't see Lockhart's deception—because Hermione was standing next to Neville Longbottom, who looked down at the girl with an odd look that bordered on disgust and surprise that someone of her intellect couldn't see what other saw.
Harry sighed, turning his attention to Lockhart, who looked flustered. Snape had just disarmed him, and was standing at his end of the long platform, smirking in true Slytherin fashion at the bumbling Defence professor.
"Ah, yes, right!" said Lockhart, obviously trying to sound cheerful despite his heavy breathing. "Excellent Severus! That was a wonderful display of the expelliarmus spell, to disarm your opponent!"
Harry did have to admire one thing about Lockhart; he was more than capable of recovering after a public fall.
Snape's smirk turned into a scowl.
"Perhaps we should let the students try it out…? Ah, yes, everyone partner up!" called Lockhart, and Theo and Harry turned to one another. "Now, on three, you disarm each other only. Disarm, remember students!"
Theo mock bowed, almost querying, ready to be smashed? and Harry dipped his head in greeting, raising a single eyebrow, as if to say, oh, really?
"One! Two! Three!"
There were shouts and spells, and smoke and sparks all over the Great Hall, as the students did as Lockhart instructed… more or less. Voices echoed in the cavernous room, with smoke from spells billowing up into everyone's faces, making people cough or duck or wave the smoke away with hands and wands.
"I said disarm only!" shouted Lockhart over the cries of injured students.
He jumped off the stage, and along with Snape, they began to restore order in the Hall. Harry warily eyed Snape as he moved through the crowd towards the back of the room, taking the furthest students while Lockhart took the nearest to the stage.
"Severus! Perhaps we should have the students watch two of their own!" called Lockhart, over the noise of the restless students.
Snape obviously agreed as he turned his beady eyes on Harry.
Uh oh, he thought, as Snape barked, "Potter! Come here!"
Lockhart chose Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff. Harry and Smith bowed to each other, low enough to be respectful but not too low that they lost sight of their opponent.
"Wands at the ready!" gleefully shouted Lockhart, nearly prancing behind Smith. Harry was uncomfortably aware of Snape behind him. "On three! One, two… three!"
The two shouted their disarming spells; Harry's struck Smith's wand arm, causing him to yelp loudly, while Smith's spell flew wide as Harry darted to the right. The wand soared through the air, near to Harry, who caught it and returned it to Smith quickly. He wanted this over with as quickly as possible.
"Perhaps we should give the students a bit more show, eh, Snape?" jibbed Lockhart, nudging Snape in the side, causing the man to teeter slightly, and then glower at the blond Defence professor.
"Quite," the Slytherin head of house drawled, and he and Lockhart switched places to consult the two second years.
"Now, Harry," began Lockhart, who babbled on and on about something—Harry wasn't listening. Instead, he was watching with trepidation Snape and Smith; Smith looked terribly frightened at Snape being that close to him, while Snape looked positively evil as he whispered a spell to Smith to cast.
"Ready Harry?" Lockhart was saying.
"Yeah, sure," he agreed absently, thinking which spell would be best to use. He finally decided on confringo again, as he was sure to knock Smith back—if he aimed at his feet instead of at the poor Hufflepuff. Cedric would never forgive him for harming one of his own housemates.
A few minutes later, Harry was sure Cedric wasn't going to give a rat's arse had Harry actually hit Smith.
The Hufflepuff decided to listen to Snape, and as Lockhart hit "three" again, shouted serpensortia to Harry's confringo. A large, green snake was conjured from Smith's wand, landing with a frightened hiss on the duelling platform, its fangs elongated as it balled tightly in a defensive position. Harry's spell had practically harmlessly ricocheted off the platform in front of Smith, only causing the Hufflepuff to jump backwards and land on his back.
"Fools! Who dares to near me? I will bite you!"
Harry paused; the snake was terribly upset and frightened, and Harry knew he could calm it down long enough to vanish it—but at the risk of showing his ability to the student population?
"Allow me!" cried Lockhart, striding forward.
"Oh, no, really that's not necessary," began Harry, nearly tripping over his feet as he backpeddled from the defence professor.
"Oh, Harry, this little snake is hardly something to worry about," laughed Lockhart, brandishing his wands. "Watch—Volotieh Ascendieh!"
Harry flinched as the snake went flying, jolted into the sky as it writhed and snapped, hissing. It landed close to the edge of the duelling platform, and, Harry was annoyed to see, near Edgar.
The fangs were widely displayed, and the snake continued hissing obscenities at the students standing near it, frightened.
"Don't move Eddy!" shouted Harry, darting forward, wand out and a spell at his lips to vanish the snake.
"Potter! Stand still!" snarled Snape from his end of the platform, as he too moved forward to intercept the eldest Potter—Smith and Lockhart remained where they were, dumbfounded.
The snake coiled in, ready to spring forward and bite the nearest student—whom Harry saw was Edgar's friend Gareth—and Harry just… reacted.
"Stop it!" he hissed, "They're innocent, they're just children. They didn't conjure you here!"
The snake coiled tightly and swung its head around, swaying as it asked, "As you wish; will you return me then, Master?"
Harry nodded, and muttered finite, vanishing the snake in a puff of smoke and dust. He was vaguely aware of a gentle hum and murmur of the students as they reacted to Harry's parseltongue ability. He glanced up at Edgar, seeing nothing of worth in his brother's face (after all, he too could understand what Harry was saying), but Gareth, beside him, was white in terror.
"What're you playing it?" the boy nearly shrieked, trembling so badly several other Ravenclaws around him had to help him stand as they half-carried him away from the duelling platform.
Harry glanced up, seeking his friends in the crowd, and saw Cedric's pinched face, as well as Theo and Nate's worried ones; Snape, he saw as he cut a glance to the side, appeared absolutely shell-shocked. Lockhart, too, was frozen in his spot as he stared at Harry in disbelief and wonder.
Brilliant, thought Harry, sarcastically, as he stormed out of the Great Hall.
*
TBC…
*
Note on Lockhart: I actually quite like him as a character. He's deceptive, cocky, and actually, IMO, very, very intelligent. Fanfiction makes him out to be a fop, a real vain idiot, but Lockhart isn't. He's a conman, first and foremost, and is able to recover from poor scenes easily and with charm and grace. I'd even go as far to say that he's more dangerous than Voldemort sometimes because—while Voldemort uses fear and pain as a main motivator—Lockhart is charming and cruel enough to erase people's memories so well that St. Mungo's can't return their memories… what makes someone essentially them. Voldemort just kills—Lockhart kills far more thoroughly by robbing people of who they are. I liken Lockhart to the Weeping Angels in "Blink," of the third season of Doctor Who, if you've seen it.
Note on the chapter: This would have actually continued, and probably be another twenty pages before reaching its conclusion, so I've decided to split it; Christmas hols, more petrified students, and the Chamber will be in the next chapter.