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AN: Thanks you for reading thus far!

Chapter 24: Of Rumours and Revealed Truths

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a dark figure raise its arm, the initial syllables of a curse breaking the silence. Without so much as a second thought, Harry darted in front of the black snake lying docile in the middle of the corridor.

"Don't hurt her! She didn't do anything!"

The dark figure, none other than Severus Snape, scowled. "Out of the way, Potter!"

Harry scowled back and snatched up the black snake protectively in his arms, feeling an odd warmth simmer in his chest when it relaxed into his hold. "She didn't hurt anyone."

The dark haired professor gritted his teeth audibly, before snarling quietly as he cancelled the curses on Draco's legs and wand, and then snapping, looking pointedly at the boy's burnt hand, "To the infirmary."

Nodding shakily, Draco stumbled off as quick as his wearied legs could carry him, as the professor's gaze wandered toward Harry.

"Follow me, Potter."

The professor's cold voice left no room for argument, so Harry acquiesced and nudged the black mamba, urging it to curl about his shoulders, as he followed the professor, and ignored the piercing stares being directed his way by the small number of gaping spectators that had accumulated.

Blindly trotting after the flurry billowing robes, Harry was content to keep his eyes on his new friend, listening to it ramble happily with a small smile,

:I like it here. So nice…soft. It smells strange...but a nice strange... I like this smell. It's cold though. Why's it so cold? I like you - can I stay? I'd like to stay. I don't want to go back. Can I bite that man? He's annoying.:

Harry bit back a laugh. :I'm sure you can stay, if you promise not to bite anyone – most people are quite terrified of your kind,: he replied quietly, smirking slightly as he saw the greasy-haired professor stiffen slightly at the hissing quality his voice had taken on.

:Oh…I can't bite anyone?: The poor thing sounded disappointed.

:Well, maybe some people…but not unless I say so.:

:Alright!:

Harry nearly collided with Professor Snape's back when he halted at a dead end, in front of a large, and rather hideous, stone gargoyle.

"Lemon Drops." The word was pronounced distastefully, as the gargoyle shifted out of the way, replaced with a slender spiralling staircase.

"Ah, Severus! Harry! What a lovely surprise!" the Headmaster happily exclaimed as they emerged from the staircase into his office.

Harry cast his eyes about the office, blinking as he observed the bright, cheery clutter of it – odd trinkets, hundreds of tomes, old and new, strange magical contraptions, some floating, flying, whirling, spinning, or glowing - the office was just as eccentric as the man's wardrobe. Really, Harry didn't expect anything different from the Headmaster, but the sight managed to be amusingly eye-catching nonetheless.

"Oh, and what's this?"

Harry followed the Headmaster's eyes to the greyish black snake wrapped around his shoulder.

"Headmaster," Professor Snape interjected, "I caught Potter cursing Draco Malfoy in the corridors."

Professor Dumbledore's concerned blue eyes met Harry's green. "Is this true, Harry?"

"We were in a duel, Professor. Malfoy cast just as many curses as I did."

"And duelling is forbidden in the corridors," Professor Snape hissed.

The Headmaster looked between them curiously, eyes lingering on the serpent about Harry's neck. "Surely, Severus, if that is merely the case, then there would be no need to come to me – I would think you would be happy to assign Harry detention and take an appropriate number of points on your own."

Harry suppressed a groan.

"Under normal circumstances, Headmaster, I would indeed – but once again, Potter has managed to make a spectacle of himself –"

"A bloody good spectacle," Harry muttered.

"- as he displayed some…unusual abilities in the course of his duel."

The elderly professor's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Oh?"

"He is a Parselmouth, Headmaster!" Snape ground out impatiently.

The Headmaster's eyes widened with understanding, a grim light flickering in them as they came once again to rest on the obsidian serpent.

Meanwhile, Harry could not help but sneer frustratedly. "Oh please. So I can speak to snakes!"

Professor Snape sneered back. "Leave it to you, Potter, to be hopelessly oblivious and arrogant about it."

"Harry," the Headmaster interjected softly, eyes still keenly trained on him, "Surely you know that –"

"I know," Harry interrupted stiffly, "That it has a bad stigma. I know that it's supposed to be passed down one specific family in Britain, and that everyone who had the ability was a dark wizard or witch. And that Salazar Slytherin was one of these dark wizards – the dark wizard that supposedly built a Chamber of Secrets, which has supposedly been opened. But that's got nothing to do with me."

The Headmaster sat back in his chair, hands folded politely on his lap, a strange, calculating glimmer entering his eyes. "And why's that, Harry?"

"Do you really think that there's only one family, in one tiny country, in the whole entire world that can speak to snakes?" Harry asked incredulously. "I happen to know that my mum's family is from France – maybe they've got Parselmouths too. Maybe it's a recessive gene; maybe it's a random mutation – it had to come from somewhere, right? The point is, I'm not evil or anything, and I've nothing to do with Salazar Slytherin."

The Headmaster sighed, closing his eyes and nodded. "Very well, Harry, I believe you."

"Headmaster –" Snape made to protest, but the elderly man held up his hand.

"He tells the truth, Severus. Harry had no motive to cause the incident yesterday; several of his friends and acquaintances are muggleborn students; his own mother was one, as you well know."

The dark haired professor winced slightly, drawing a curious stare from Harry.

"Moreover, he had no opportunity to commit the crime – we discussed this last night. We have no more reason now to suspect him now than we did twenty hours ago."

Professor Snape gritted his teeth quite audibly. "And the creature around his neck? He refuses to allow me to get rid of it." He glared at the snake, which glared right back at him.

Professor Dumbledore looked at Harry questioningly.

"It's not her fault that Draco summoned her," Harry objected. "And she likes me. She wants to stay with me."

"Was…she?" Harry nodded, and Professor Dumbledore continued, "Was she a kneazle or a toad, Harry, that would not be a problem. However, she appears to be a rare magical species of Black Mamba…very venomous if I recall correctly."

"She wouldn't bite anyone without my permission, Professor," Harry argued.

"Perhaps that is what the Headmaster's worried about," Professor Snape murmured.

Harry glared at him.

"Now, now," Professor Dumbledore said.

Harry turned back to face him with a carefully sculpted look of desperation on his face. "Please, sir – she won't cause any trouble. I'll keep her in my room at all times, and she'll sleep for most of the day anyway. She likes me – and I like her too...we're already friends! I don't have familiar, Professor – please, can I keep her? I promise she won't hurt anyone." Now, Harry had never really begged for anything before, but he thought he was doing a rather good job.

Professor Dumbledore was silent in thought for only a moment. "You'll allow me to put a spell on her? One to dull her fangs."

"Headmaster!" Professor Snape exclaimed, outraged.

"Severus," the Headmaster warned.

Harry supressed a victorious shout, and looked at the snake. :He says you can stay if he can put a spell on your fangs that will dull them. It's temporary, I'm sure.:

She shifted nervously, coiling tighter around his shoulder. :I get to stay with you then?:

Harry nodded.

:It's alright then.: she replied brightly - well, as brightly as a snake could, anyway.

Harry looked up at the Headmaster, who was looking at him with undisguised fascination. "She said it's alright."

The Headmaster smiled amiably as he drew his wand, flicking it at the snake.

Harry blinked. "That's all?"

"That's all," the professor echoed, smiling. "Except…well, I'm sure Severus will be happy to assign you detention on his own."

Harry grimaced, whilst Professor Snape smirked triumphantly.

"Now, would any of you like a lemon drop?"

"So, let me get this straight, you duelled him?"

Harry groaned. "…yes."

"And then, while you were duelling, you spoke parseltongue – and now everyone knows?"

"…yeah."

"Damn! Of all the stupid, uncreative, thoughtless, tactless, idiotic, rash, lame –"

"Jean!" Harry pleaded.

"- things to do." He glowered at Harry. "Setting aside the fact that everyone now knows that you can speak to snakes – while the Chamber of Secrets was just opened, might I add – a duel? Dude! That is so lame. I mean, hello? Stereotypical much?"

Harry scowled back at him. "Says the walking stereotype."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh please – you practically ooze roguish stoner/conman vibes. I mean, really? The hair, the clothes, the accent, the bloody smell…"

"What do I smell like!"

"You smell like oil paint. When I first met you, though, you smelled like illegal herbs overlaid by expensive cologne – probably stolen."

Jean grumbled something indiscernible. "Whatever. What are you going to do about your secret getting out?"

Harry shrugged. "I'll just tell whoever asks that it's a genetic defect or something, and that they should go about their own damn business."

Jean quirked an eyebrow. "And you think that will work."

"Not really – but at least I can say that I tried to get them to believe I'm not evil."

"Yeah, right, tried real hard."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"And what about her?"

Harry looked down at the charcoal-coloured snake on his lap, which he had been stroking absentmindedly. "The Headmaster said I could keep her, so long as she stays in this room, preferably on my bed – I think he doesn't want her scaring the other students." He snorted.

"She got a name?"

"Yeah, it was a bit tricky, but I managed to translate the parseltongue into normal human speech – Laini. Isn't it pretty?"

Jean smirked. "Aw, first love."

That drew another scowl from Harry.

"How are you going to feed her? I mean, if she can't go out and hunt…"

Harry tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I was thinking of asking the Hogwarts elves to give me all the rats the catch around the castle…for now, anyway…"

"House elves?" Jean queried, "Like the one behind you?"

Harry let out a quiet yell, spinning around, Laini darting out of his arms and coiling on the bed in a defensive position.

"Dobby?" Harry gasped, eyes trained on the small creature standing at the edge of his bed.

The poor elf looked extremely distraught – eyes bulging, there were tear stains running down his face, and his long, worn fingers were sloppily bandaged. "Harry Potter, sir!" the elf whimpered, "Harry Potter came back to school! He promised, he promised he wouldn't! But he did!" The elf burst into tears, frame shaking wretchedly as he wept.

Harry made a mental note to cast a scourgify on the place where the elf stood later. "I broke no promises. I said I wouldn't fly to school – I didn't. I took a train. And I said I'd buy my books and study at home – which I did…for the month before school. I kept all my promises."

Dobby looked up at him, horrified. "Harry Potter tricked Dobby!"

"Well you didn't give me much of a choice, did you?"

"Harry Potter had to be warned – Dobby had no choice either!"

Harry huffed. "How did you even find out I was at school?"

Dobby tugged on his ears. "Dobby over heard his master's conversation with the mistress – Dobby heard your name. Dobby was so horrified, sir. Dobby was so horrified, that he burnt his master's dinner! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir…"

Harry grimaced. "I'm sorry Dobby, I really am, your master shouldn't treat you like –"

"Oh, Harry Potter sir!" the elf exclaimed rapturously. "So kind, so compassionate!"

Harry's grimace grew even sourer. "Yeah, right. But as I was saying – you were sort of asking for it, Dobby. This whole 'defy your master, keep Harry Potter away from school' plan? Not very well executed. I mean, did you event think it through? At all?"

Dobby scratched his head sheepishly.

"Right. I thought not. But you know what you need to fix it?"

"Oh, oh yes sir! Bestow Dobby with Harry Potter's great wisdom!"

"Well, then, try being honest. You going to tell me what's going on yet? Is it the Chamber of Secrets? Is your master – Lucius Malfoy – behind it?"

Dobby let out a troubled cry, and began to smack his head on the bedpost. "Bad – Dobby – Dobby – cannot – say – "

Harry reached out and grabbed him sturdily. "Stop it, Dobby, you're going to crack your skull open! And then I'll have house elf brains all over my bed! Do you have any idea how disgusting that would be?"

"Oh, Dobby's so sorry, sir! Dobby would clean it up, right away! He promises!"

"No, you wouldn't, cuz you'd be dead!"

The poor elf began to hyperventilate, sobbing in terror. "Oh! Oh, Dobby's so, s-so sorry! Dobby's s-such a terrible, t-terrible elf! Dobby's so sorry!"

"Don't be sorry," Harry snapped. "Just…just tell me why it's so important that I leave Hogwarts."

"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby whimpered, tears calming, though still running down his face, much to Harry's horror. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted, drying his face on the dirty pillowcase he wore. "But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, sir. And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more."

Harry swallowed nervously, biting his lip. "I'm sorry, Dobby, but I'm not a hero."

"So humble! Oh, of course Harry Potter is –"

"No, Dobby," Harry interjected. "I was only a baby – I didn't do anything. The only ones responsible for what happened that night are, well... the Fates. And they're cruel bitches that take just as much as they give. There are no such things as heroes, Dobby – and if you want things to be different, then you've got to do something." He tightened his grip on the elf's shoulder. "If you don't want history to repeat itself, Dobby, don't let it. Because running away and asking me to follow you won't help anyone."

Dobby's lower lip trembled, as he struggled to form words.

"You should go," Harry said suddenly, "Before Mr. Malfoy realizes you're gone."

The poor elf managed a quick nod, before he snapped his fingers, disappearing.

"Oh my god."

"I know," Harry deadpanned.

"The damn elf is turning you into a motivational speaker."

Harry started. "Wait, what? No!"

Jean snorted. "Ever thought of taking your own advice, kid?"

Harry scowled, picking up a disgruntled looking Laina, beginning to stroke her again. "What are you going on about?"

Jean rolled his eyes. "Come on, brat – it's not as though you're the most committed person in the world."

"I've got nothing to be committed to!" Harry defended himself.

"Oh come on, there must be something you want from life."

"I…" He grimaced. "Well, I suppose I do want to kill Voldemort one day."

"Yeah, not really great grounds for basing your future hopes and dreams on – besides, it's going to be kind of hard to kill him while he's Casper the Unfriendly Ghost, don't you think?"

"Casper had a nose," Harry muttered dejectedly.

"Whatever. Point is, that's not something to live for, kid. I'm just saying, you need more focus in your life. You know, that might be why you get into so much trouble all the time - ever thought about trying out for the quidditch team? Sports are supposed to keep kids out of trouble..."

"I've got plenty to live for," Harry argued, "I've got friends, I'm doing well at school, and I'm still working on a revenge scheme against 'The-Bastard-Who-Just-Won't Die.'"

"If you say so," Jean muttered.

"I do. Anyway, did you hear what Dobby said?"

"Which part?"

Harry sighed. "That Chamber of Secrets – history repeating itself. It's happened before!"

Understanding dawned on Jean's face. "Maybe some of the professors know something that they're not talking about…"

"No," Harry interrupted, "That would bring up too many questions for me to answer – I'll have to think of something else. But it's still a lead."

Just then, he jumped as he heard the dorm door slammed open.

"Damn."

"Time to face the music," Jean sang under his breath, evoking a glare.

"Harry!" It was Terry's voice, sounding rather frazzled. "We know you're in here!"

Sighing, Harry tore the curtains to the side, causing the five other boys to jump.

"Harry!" Terry exclaimed. "You'd never believe what we've been hearing!"

"I dunno, I'd believe a lot of things," Harry muttered.

"Hmm…yes," Anthony said cautiously, sitting down on his bed, two over from Harry's, "Something about you being the Heir of Slytherin. The whole story was sort of iffy – but somebody said something about seeing you speak to a snake."

"Hiss to a snake," Stephen put in.

Harry's lips twitched. "Oh, come on, you don't actually believe that, do you?"

"Uh, yeah, we do," Michael said, pointing behind Harry, "The proof's right behind you."

Harry spun around, finding Laini peeking out of the curtains. He pursed his lips. "Bloody hell. One thing after another..."

"Merlin's beard, it's a real snake, a real live snake in my room..." Terry whimpered, quite pale.

"Is it venomous?" Michael asked.

"Yes -"

Terry let out a terrified squeak, and Kevin went white.

"A black mamba?" he whispered, "What the hell, Harry? We're miles away from any hospital! We've got no anti-venoms, only one medical expert in the school…"

"But the Headmaster dulled her fangs," Harry interjected, "She can't bite anyone."

Anthony cleared his throat loudly, causing all eyes to fall on him. "Back to the matter at hand?"

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes. "There's not much to say – I can speak to snakes. But I'm not the heir of Slytherin."

"Yeah, but how do we know that?" Stephen asked pointedly.

Harry scowled. "Oh, come on, you guys! You know me – sort of…but well enough to know I wouldn't do this! If I was a girl, you know, I'd be rather offended right about now. Can't you trust me just a little?"

"That's why our wands aren't out right now," Anthony pointed out.

Harry sighed. "Well, I haven't tried to kill Kevin yet. Right Kevin?"

The blonde boy, seeming to have gotten over the presence of the snake, frowned and shrugged. "Not directly – unless you count the whole egging thing last year. Whatever. I'm tired. 'night." He disappeared behind the curtains of his bed.

"See?" Harry said, "Hermione Granger's one of my best friends; my mum was muggleborn – I'm not some muggle hating, blood-supremacist psycho! So untwist your panties, and look at the facts."

"Why can you speak parseltongue then?" Michael asked confusedly.

"I dunno – genetic defect? Salazar Slytherin can't have been the only person who could speak to snakes."

Anthony nodded slowly. "That's reasonable. Just because we haven't heard of more parselmouths, doesn't mean there aren't any."

"Exactly."

"But why didn't you tell us?" Terry piped up, looking quite depressed.

"Er…it never really came up, you know…" Harry mused sheepishly.

"That's a lame excuse," Michael pointed out, heading toward the bathroom.

"Yeah, well tell me when you come up with a better one!" Harry called.

Harry wasn't quite sure about the dreaming stones – the last two nights, he had dreamt, for sure, but the whole thing was far too abstract for him to glean anything from it. It was like a badly organized montage; flashes of people, places, colours, sounds both familiar and unfamiliar…he was thankful when he woke up. Finding the time to be just before seven, he resolved to get out of bed and dress himself, hoping to avoid most of the other students at breakfast.

The Ravenclaw common room was empty, causing Harry to smile at the thought that he might have been the first one awake – which was why he was shocked to find two people waiting outside the portrait hole for him.

"Hermione? Neville?"

"Harry…" Hermione began tentatively, hands wringing behind her back. "We, uh…"

"We wanted to talk to you," Neville finished for her.

Harry sighed, stepping out of the portrait hole and following them down one of the still darkened corridors. "About the rumours."

Neville nodded. "Yeah, you wouldn't believe what we've been hearing!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "That I duelled with Draco Malfoy, spoke to a snake, and am the Heir of Slytherin, and am out to kill all the muggleborns in the school?"

"Well, yes," Hermione stuttered. "We were just, you know, wondering how much was true. Because I know you're not going around killing people…I hope so, anyway."

Harry shook his head. "No killing. I did duel with Draco," he admitted hesitantly.

"Harry!"

"I know, I know – just had to get it out of my system, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Hermione said flatly.

"Oh, well, you can't know everything I suppose. Anyway, long story short; yes, I can speak to snakes, but know, I'm not in any way related to Salazar Slytherin. I don't think so, anyway."

Both of them were gaping at him.

"B-but then how can you speak parseltongue!" Neville exclaimed.

Harry shrugged. "Mutation?"

"Mu – what?"

"It's a spontaneous change in a person's genetic code," Hermione answered absentmindedly.

Harry nodded. "Who knows? Maybe I have some great-great-great-whatever grandparent who was able to speak to snakes. Or maybe it can pop up randomly. It had to start somehow, right?"

Hermione was nodding slowly.

"But why didn't you tell us earlier?" Neville asked, frowning.

Harry sighed. "It was just never relevant, you know. It's not like it's that useful of a skill."

"There could be plenty of uses, Harry!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, "Have you tried it with other reptiles? Like lizards, or…oh! What about dragons? And for password activated magical devices, only you could activate them! Or what about trying to cast magic while speaking parseltongue?"

"Er…I never really thought of that. But I really don't think the language works for anything but snakes."

"You never know."

"That's the spirit, Hermione!"

Neville cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "So…what are you going to do?"

"Do?" Harry echoed.

"Yeah, about the rumours – some people are pretty worked up about it," Neville said worriedly.

Hermione nodded. "Poor Colin Creevey was heartbroken."

Harry smirked. "Really? Should have liked to see that."

Hermione slapped him on the arm. "Harry! You've got to be nicer to him – do you have any idea how scared he was when you told him he was sucking out people's souls with his camera?"

"He was," Harry groused.

"Harry," Neville said cautiously, "I'm pretty sure cameras don't suck out souls."

Harry sniffed. "Yeah, that's what they want you to think."

Neville shifted uneasily.

"Anyway," Hermione interjected, "The Weasley twins seemed oddly amused, but quite a few of the other Gryffindors were furious."

Harry sighed exasperatedly. "Wonderful."

"How are your housemates taking it?" Neville asked.

"Hopefully, like the rational Ravenclaws they are," Harry said with a smile, "I think they're a bit uneasy about the whole thing, but my dormmates seem okay with it. Michael even held Laini last night."

"Laini?" Hermione and Neville asked simultaneously.

"Yeah, my new snake."

"You kept it?"

All three of them spun around, surprised to find that the question came from a pale-looking Draco Malfoy, standing a distance behind them.

Harry frowned. "Draco?"

"Harry," the blonde boy greeted awkwardly, some relief evident at the use of his given name. With only the slightest hesitation, he took a deep breath and faced Hermione determinedly. "I apologize, Granger, for what I said the other day."

Both Hermione and Neville gaped at him silently, whilst Harry simply grinned triumphantly.

"I…" Hermione finally recovered, "Thanks, Malfoy. I apologize for my behaviour as well."

She received a curt nod in turn.

"Splendid!" Harry said, "Now, I don't suppose you two could shake hands and say 'let's be friends'?"

He was sent two deadpan stares, and an incredulous, choking laugh from Neville.

"Right, I thought not. Now, anyone know what the time is?"

Hermione started and glanced down at her watch. "Quarter to eight."

"Damn it…" Harry groaned.

"What's wrong?" Neville asked.

"I wanted to eat breakfast and leave before everyone else…"

Neville cringed. "Heh…I think I understand why..."

"Harry," Hermione said concernedly, "It's not as though you can just hide out until the rumours go away."

"About those –" Draco started.

"Later," Harry said, glancing meaningfully at him. "We can talk about it later."

Draco nodded. "Well, if you don't want to go to the Great Hall, we could just eat in the kitchens."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione's right. Might as well face the music."

"What music?" Draco and Neville asked at the same time.

"Muggle colloquialism," Hermione put in, understanding dawning on their faces. She then stopped, the others as well, finding themselves in front of the door to the Great Hall, from which was emanating the smell of breakfast and the sound of animated chatter.

"Well," Harry said, pushing open the door, "Here goes nothing."

Immediately, all speech within the hall ceased, the chatter replaced by a stunned silence – which was slowly overwhelmed by the rustle of hundreds of cold whispers.

Harry grimaced under the strength of the fearful glances and angry glares being sent his way as he made his way to the table, which was already full, sitting down between Terry and Luna.

"There's lots of telepuckers buzzing around this morning," Luna commented conspiratorially.

"I think," Terry added, "What she means to say is that everyone's been talking about you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm getting that."

He immediately went for the sausages, shovelling them onto his place and messily throwing some marmalade on it.

"Harry," Padma's soft voice suddenly spoke up from a few seats down, "We all know it wasn't you – Anthony explained everything to us earlier. I'm sure all the rumours will calm down soon."

Harry sighed, wincing slightly at a death glare he caught coming from the Gryffindor table. "Thanks, Padma."

"Yeah!" Lisa exclaimed, "Things'll get better, you'll see!"

But they didn't, not during breakfast, at least. The whispers and the stares continued throughout the whole meal – the particularly fearful, accusing, and angry glares making ingesting his meal rather unpleasant. As he ate in a rather frustrated, violent manner, Terry tried his best to distract him, but unfortunately, his poor attempts only managed to grate on Harry's nerves even more.

Eventually, in one of Harry's vehement attempts to stab his sausages, his plate broke clean in half, causing Terry to jump a few inches.

"Blimey, mate!"

"That's it," Harry ground out, standing up. But instead of marching out of the hall like Terry no doubt expected him to, he stepped onto his seat, and then onto the table, clearing his throat loudly, causing all the chatter in the hall to cease.

"Alright," he declared loudly, "I'm just going to clarify this now, so we can go back to hating and loving each other respectively as usual.

"I am NOT the Heir of Slytherin. I'm a halfblood Ravenclaw, for god's sake, you stupid, judgemental, ignorant little morons. The fact holds that I've got better things to do with my precious time than go on killing sprees – I don't even care about most of you enough to murder you! Why would I risk going to Azkaban for any of you? Stop being so damn presumptuous and conceited! So there. Now we can all eat in peace."

With a huff, he stepped off the table, collapsing back onto his seat.

"Wow, Harry," Luna said, eyes wide and round, "You have a very commanding presence."

Harry's lips twitched. "I'd like to think so." He nodded, absorbing the dumb silence permeating through the Great Hall appreciatively.

So...yeah, thoughts?