This top part will be quite short, as I have a very long author's note at the bottom.

I do not own Harry Potter, no matter what I wish.

"Spell."

"Speech."

/Parseltounge. /

'Thoughts.'

(Author Notes)

"Another language"

:::

The end of the year feast was as grand as the beginning one.

Of course, there was a change in decorations; namely the Slytherin house emblem was draped from anything and everything except the Gryffindors, who were definitely put out.

Philomel was determinedly ignoring all the attempts to engage her in conversation and trying to listen to Dumbledore's speech. Finally, Dumbledore called for silence.

"If I may have your attention please, I wish to announce that another year is gone! And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were…you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

Philomel clapped politely as the Slytherins cheered. She gave a slight smile when Draco looked her way.

Dumbledore's beard flickered down, but he continues talking, "Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. However, some events must be taken into account."

The cheering died a quick death.

"Ahem, I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…

"First—to Mr. Romani, for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in quite a few years, I award Ravenclaw House fifty points."

The whispers start up at the Ravenclaw table, where it is widely known that Michele can't play chess to save his life.

"Second—to Miss Hermione Granger…for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Ravenclaw House fifty points."

Hermione's face burns and she buries her head in her arms. The whispering jumps up.

Dumbledore, blissfully unaware of the negative affect his words are having, continues, "Third—to Mr. Harry Potter…for pure nerve and outstanding courage worthy of a Gryffindor, I award Ravenclaw House sixty points."

Outrage breaks the dead silence along both the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. Philomel could be seen conferring with Hermione and Michele, then the Ravenclaw prefects.

The teachers are just as shocked and Severus looks paler than normal. Vector is sputtering, her brown hair in even more disarray than usual. McGonagall is displeased, her thin lips nonexistent.

Dumbledore ignores the astonishment of his staff and students and raises his wand. "This means, we need a little change of decoration."

"We do not accept your awarding of points, Headmaster!"

The wand lowers and Dumbledore looks at Philomel, who is standing on a bench, in slight shock. "What was that, my boy?"

"Michele Romani, Hermione Granger, and I, Harry Potter, as well as the rest of the Ravenclaw House students do not accept the points that you have awarded to us.

"We, as a House, feel that we have not earned these points, along with the fact that they appear to be unfairly given to spite another prestigious Hogwarts House that has recently fallen under some suspicion due to the actions of one, Lord Voldemort.

"The Ravenclaw House feels that you have insulted our honour and the comradeship that we have developed with Slytherin House throughout the years, by thinking that we would accept such biased and unfairly awarded points. Should you have wanted to award points for our actions in protecting the Philosopher's Stone, then you should have awarded them whilst it was still the same season, at the very most. Not to mention that you have already, in the eyes of the school rules, announced the winners as the Slytherin."

If the silence before was dead, then the silence now could rival that of space. Every one of the Ravenclaws had their head held proudly, though most of the school was gaping at them in surprise.

Dumbledore tries to smile, but, to the student populace, it comes out looking like a grimace. "Harry, my boy, I am afraid that I am unable to withdraw points awarded, nor are you allowed to contest the granting of points."

McGonagall's lips tighten a bit more before she opens her mouth.

Philomel beats her to it. "Headmaster, I think you'll find that if you look at the rules, that students are allowed to reject points awarded, if the students are backed by their House and have valid reasons. Which we do. Award the House Cup to the true victors, Slytherin House."

A cheer erupts from the Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff Houses. Gryffindor seems to sulk, like a cat that didn't get its cream.

\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/

The trio, amongst all the other students, wanders out the great doors. Outside are what should be horseless carriages.

However, those three could see the skeletal horse-like creatures attached to the carriages.

"What are those, Harry!" exclaims Hermione.

Philomel shakes her head to rid it of the image and turns to Hermione and Michele.

"Come on; let's not worry about things that all three of us can see. At least we are not hallucinating."

\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/

"Harry, are you sure we should have done that? The Headmaster and the Gryffindors did not look happy." Hermione worries on the train, for the hundredth time that day.

Michele snorts and rolls his eyes. "Since when do you care what people think, Hermione? We were cheered by the rest of the school."

Philomel snaps her history book shut. "Hermione is right to be worried, Michele. We may have been cheered, but not by the strongest house. Gryffindor is not happy, and, soon, Hufflepuff will side with the Lions. We may have the support of the Snakes and Ravens but that is a very poor guarantee of safety."

Hermione glances toward the door just as it opens. Outside is Ron and a couple of other Gryffindors.

Ron barges in yelling at Philomel, "YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO THE WIZARDING WORLD, HARRY POTTER! HOW DARE YOU STAND UP FOR SNAKES! AND HERE I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND!" The people behind him nod like the good little sheep they are.

A sneer twists Philomel's features under the glamour. "When have I ever called you my friend, Mr. Weasley? I don't suppose it has occurred to you, either, to let the Wizarding World speak for itself? No, of course not. Because you are so brave, so powerful, and you have such prestige that you surpass even the Boy-Who-Lived, and can order him around."

A familiar voice cuts through the babble. "Is there a problem here? I would like to get through to see Harry!"

Philomel stands up and stares down the Gryffindors to allow Draco to come through. "Mr. Malfoy. It is very nice to see you, but I thought you would be celebrating with your housemates."

"No, well … yes, but I wanted to come thank you. Not many people would stand up for a Slytherin."

Philomel tilts her head. "I didn't do it just for you. The Headmaster had insulted my honour and my House's integrity. Something like that should not be left unpunished. It was also helpful that I could help a friend."

Draco laughs hesitantly. "How very Slytherin of you, Harry. But, whether you meant it or not, thank you."

The rest of the train ride passed without incident.

\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/

Philomel watched apathetically as Michele and Hermione were picked up by their respective parents. She continued to watch the station empty from a bench placed in the middle of the platform.

When no one else was there, Philomel made her way out into London proper, where she wasted no time in ducking into an alley to remove the glamour. She is momentarily startled by a hand on her shoulder, but soon recognizes the touch of her godfather.

"Philomel, perhaps you should have stayed on Platform 9 ¾. You would be much safer there."

Philomel wriggles out of the grip, but tarries in leaving to make sure that Severus is there. "I would have been a sitting target. I lingered there long enough, Professor."

Severus sighs and follows. "Very well. I cannot argue with that reasoning. But I must stress the importance of not wandering where anyone can get you."

Philomel dips her head in acknowledgement.

"As much as it pains me to say, I must get you back to your Aunt and Uncle. They must be out of their minds with worry;" he snorts, "we didn't send them a letter explaining where you were."

Philomel keeps silent about it, thinking, 'They aren't. But what am I going to say to make sure that nothing happens to me?'

Severus inwardly scowls at not receiving proof of Philomel's abuse at the hands of her relatives. 'If I don't have proof, how can I save my goddaughter?'

They Portkey out, Philomel with a scowl on her face.

\/\'/\/'\/\'/\/

The two reappear in a stand of trees just outside of Surry. They quickly walk to Privet Drive, ignoring the confused looks at Philomel; whom the neighbors had only seen in oversized rags.

Severus nearly dragged Philomel all the way to Privet Drive, number four. Sirrush, who is now big enough to wrap around Philomel's thin wrists twice hisses into her ear, /Missstresss, where are we going? Where isss Ssselah? /

Philomel's fingers twitch as she answers, /We are going to be staying in a house here, for the duration of the summer. Selah is going to stay at Hermione's for the summer, because the people who we are going to be staying with do not like birds. I must ask you not to move or speak unless I tell you too, Sirrush. Is that clear? /

/Yesss, Missstresss. I will return to my ssstation now. /

/Good girl. Don't worry about anything I might say or do, just keep on pretending you're a bracelet. /

/Yesss, Missstresss. Asss alwaysss, I will do asss you asssk. /

By the end of the hissed conversation, Philomel and Severus are on the walkway leading up to Number Four's door. Severus looks down at Philomel. "Philomel, I wish I didn't have to leave you with these," a sneer "muggles, but I have no choice in the matter. I will come pick you up at the end of the summer, is that understood?"

Philomel rings the doorbell. "Perfectly, Professor."

Aunt Petunia opens the door with a large, very fake, smile. It dies as soon as she sees her guests.

Severus scowls at Petunia.

Aunt Petunia plasters the smile right back on and simpers, "You found her! I was so worried when Philomel didn't come back from the zoo with Dudders and Piers! It's been so long, we thought we'd never find her! Thank you so much, sir!"

Petunia pulls Philomel inside and gives her a rough hug. She whispers into Philomel's ear, "You are in so much trouble, brat."

Severus clears his throat. "We at Hogwarts apologize profusely for any strife this may have caused you and your family. We can assure you that your niece, Philomel Faye Potter, has been well taken care of and is in perfect health. We will collect your niece at the beginning of the next school year, and we will be sure to notify you if we are to collect her sooner. Goodbye, Mrs. Dursley." Severus turns around with a sneer and leaves. Petunia closes the door with a loud bang.

Philomel falls to her knees and starts to beg, "Aunt Petunia, they took me when I was waiting for someone to find me at the zoo. I didn't know who those freaks were, and then they started to do freaky things to me! They told me that I was a freak like them, and they made me do freaky things, just like them! They even put a freaky tracker on me, see?" Philomel brandishes Sirrush.

"You were completely in the right to punish me; I'm a freak, just like them.

"But, there are ways of becoming normal, just like you, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley. I want to be normal so badly, but I have to go back to those freaks every year until I find a way.

"But, when I become normal, I won't know anything about how to survive in the real world! Oh, Aunt Petunia, won't you send me to summer school so I know how to be normal?"

Petunia narrows her eyes in suspicion. "You want to be normal?"

Philomel nods vigorously. "More than anything else in the world. If only your punishments had worked."

Aunt Petunia snorts in disgust. "Fine, girl. But don't expect us to change our ways until you really are normal."

Philomel throws herself at Petunia and wraps arms around her aunt's legs. "Thank you, thank you, oh, thank you; Aunt Petunia."

"Get off me, freak! You're not normal yet! Back to your cupboard!"

Philomel drags her trunk into her cupboard and climbs over it, before landing on the meager cot allotted to her. A smile finds its way onto her lips. A cold and cruel smile, but a smile none the less.

"I will not be mistaken again. This time, I won't care who or what is better than me; I will be the best, no matter what."

Philomel reaches up and lifts a spider from its web. It crawls about on her white, pressed shirt.

"Hush, little spider, don't say a word;

Mama's going to buy you a mockingbird.

And if that mocking bird doesn't sing,

Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring…"

Philomel stops her singing and sighs. "No, no, that's not right." She thinks for a moment, and then pets one of the spider's legs.

"Weaving spiders come not here.

Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence…!"

:::

Hah! I finally finished the chapter! Evil, nasty little bugger. Okay, in this chapter, Philomel stands up for the snakes; right? Wrong! It's the principle of the thing, really. Philomel defeated Quirrel way back during Christmas break. It is now the end of the year. What Dumbledore did was low, but it was really him using what she did as a weapon to cut down the Slytherins. If she managed to help some of the friends she's made in that house, well, then, all the better!

Also, I would like to reply to an anonymous review I got last chapter. I know you're not supposed to, and I generally don't, but I'll make an exception.

Lethe (), first, let me thank you for taking your time to review my story. Now, to address your concerns. I realize that Perenelle will have been exposed to the English language for quite a long time, nearly a millennia if the muggle Nicholas Flamel is the wizarding one. This has little, to no, influence on my desire to have Perenelle drop in French words. And, in fact, if Perenelle was still speaking the French she was exposed to as a child, it would not sound like that. Pommes de terre was not even a word back then, as potatoes were a root from the Americas. Everyone has their quirks and one of Perenelle's is honoring her heritage by speaking broken English.

Oh, and a very special thanks to Phil (), for reviewing and helping me with my French.