Here's the newest chapter for the "Harry Potter: the Serpent Lord", enjoy!

* Review response:
mliyanagamage, ...or something. *wink*
Goldrune09, yes, there will be Yule ball, but not this chapter. The next (63rd) one.
The Sinful, Toby860, Naginator, nopparitari, The Swordslinger, Gruffard, Penny is wise, BF110C4, shugokage, Zobx, twilightnemo, Zarosian Chaos, Wyrtha, Kairan1979, pandora vanity, Lord Xantos A. Fowl, MKTerra, Arkisenn and Guests, thanks for the reviews, folks!
ElementalMaster16, answered you via PM.
animekingmike, you're probably right, and I will try to stop bashing him this much. But at this point just stopping is nigh impossible.
Zelara, I used not just Futhark runes, so I still stand by 'no mistakes there'.
JPElles, the task will be, as I've said earlier, completely different, so Harry won't really have to interact with merfolk at all.

* Disclaimer: I DO NOT own "Harry Potter" and its characters in any shape or form. Same with "Freezing" anime/manga series.

"human speech"
"wraith speech"
'human thoughts'
"powered speech / true prophecies by the seer"
"spells / parseltongue"
messages

chapter 62: For Lady Slytherin

It was Tuesday, December thirteenth, and like always on Tuesdays, fourth year Gryffindors shared Transfiguration class with their Hufflepuff year-mates the first thing in the morning. And while the lesson itself wasn't anything special – just a rehearsal for what they had studied earlier this semester – the announcement made by professor McGonagall at its end was:

"The Yule Ball is approaching: it's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. The ball will be open only to fourth years and above, but you may invite a younger student if you wish." The deputy headmistress said. "Dress robes will be worn, and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then, the Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to... er... let our hair down..." Quite a few students snickered at the mental image of their ever-stern Transfiguration professor with her hair not in the usual tight bun. Professor McGonagall, though, paid those no mind and continued with the announcement: "But that does not mean, that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if one of you embarrasses the school in any way."

There were some murmurs again, this time coming from the more festive students in the classroom: they were complaining about the staff limiting their fun during the ball. Quietly enough for professor McGonagall not to hear them clearly, of course... Then the bell rang, and while everyone wanted to pack their things and go have some lunch, the head of the Gryffindor house wasn't about to let them leave before she was finished: she still had to explain more of the ball rules to them.

"...And, Mr. Potter, a word if you please." She said after dismissing her students for lunch. Figuring that it likely had something to do with him being a champion – willing or not – Harry just nodded to Hermione and Neville, telling them that they didn't have to wait for him. Then he approached his head of the house.

"Yes, professor?" He asked, wanting to know the exact reason why he was singled out now.

"According to the established tradition, Mr. Potter, champions, and their partners open the ball." Professor McGonagall replied. "And even though you aren't representing either of the three schools, you are still a champion, and so you are expected to be opening the ball along with Mr. Diggory, Mr. Krum, mademoiselle Delacour and their dates." The green-eyed wizard just nodded in response. "I hope that you will not shame Hogwarts by being unable to find a dancing partner or by being unable to dance properly." The Scot witch said.

"Of course I will not, Ma'am." The young Potter replied: he was sure that 'Nica would not deny him the honor of having her as his date for the night. And he was equally sure that his blond minx will make sure that he is able to dance properly... There was a rather prolonged pause, before professor McGonagall spoke again:

"Very well, Mr. Potter, you may leave then." She said, dismissing him. Nodding, Harry swung his bag onto his shoulders, before leaving the classroom as he headed to the Great hall to get some lunch.

As the Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth-year students were walking towards the greenhouses, the young Potter carefully weaved his way through the 'crowd' to get next to Draconica. And as she noticed that, the blond witch knew that he wanted to talk to her; she also had a good suspicion what their little talk will be about... So, slowing down, she let her classmates get far ahead of the two of them and give them a small measure of privacy.

"Milady, may I have the honor of having you as my date for the Yule ball?" Harry asked, offering his left hand to his lady. Draconica accepted it and, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, answered:

"Of course, Harry." She said in a whisper. "I will be delighted." Giving his hand one more gently squeeze, the pretty witch let it go as she continued walking besides her intended. "Shouldn't we catch up with our classmates?" 'Nica asked then with a light smile on her face. And true to her words, the pair was indeed trailing quite some distance behind the others. Harry just nodded in response, and the two of them put on pace.

"Also," The green-eyed teen continued. "As you're going to be lady Slytherin, I think it's about time I show you some of what belongs to the house." This seemed to pick 'Nica's interest as the blonde witch cast him an intrigued glance. "Chamber of Secrets." He mouthed back to her, not daring to speak out aloud as they had almost caught up with their classmates and were within their earshot now. Receiving a nod and a smile from his lady, he continued in a whisper: "This Sunday after lunch?" Draconica nodded again.

"Works for me." Was her reply.

~/ *** \~

By the end of the Tuesday, everyone in the castle knew about the Yule ball, and people started actively looking for the dates. And not just the fourth years and above; some of the younger witches and wizards, who wished to attend the event, were trying to get the older students to invite them. And while Harry would rather this whole mess sorted itself out without affecting him, he was one of the champions and his relationship with 'Nica was rather secret, so quite a few girls thought that he was unattached and tried to get him as their partner for the ball.

Of course, the young Potter send all those groupies away with nothing – honestly, he had never even talked to half of them before; why would he want their advances when he had so many pretty girl friends, not to mention his beautiful intended, to chose from? – but it all annoyed the hell out of the green-eyed teen...

And let's not forget the more arrogant males annoyingly bragging to everyone within their earshot about their future conquests. Seriously, mademoiselle Delacour, despite the label bigots put on her because of her heritage, wasn't shallow enough to choose her date just for he was self-proclaimed number one man in Gryffindor or held some other equally ridiculous and self-awarded title.

Wednesday started as not a very good day, thanks to an awful snowstorm that had hit the Hogwarts grounds. The bad weather, though, did not mean that any classes were canceled, and so Harry, along with his fellow fourth-years who had chosen this subject as one of their electives, had to endure double Care for Magical Creatures outside. At least Hagrid had enough of common sense to kindle a bonfire to keep his students warm during the lesson time...

The lunch too started as nothing special, and the green-eyed wizard, having quickly finished his meal, about to leave for the Ancient Runes, when something interesting happened: Ron Weasley, well known for his gluttony, suddenly stopped eating. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve – not that it made it much cleaner as the sleeve was about just as stained as his face – he stood up and headed towards the Beauxbaton table. Gryffindors, having had to listen to the boy's boasting about being able to get the 'veela chick' as his date, all watched him intently... Even Harry decided to stay and see what will happen.

Puffing out his chest in an attempt to look more ...impressive, and failing quite miserable at it, the 'chosen one' marched up to where Fleur Delacour was sitting. And the blond witch, having felt the unusually-high attention directed at her, looked up from her meal, only to see quite a grubby lanky red-haired boy three years younger than her and as vain as a peacock eying her.

"You, go with me to the ball!" He said with his usual tact, or lack there of. At very least, he didn't call her 'veela chick', or something like that. If he did, Harry was sure, the Beauxbaton champion would have turned him into a human-torch for such offense... Meanwhile, Fleur was shocked into silence by the boys impudence. Honestly, he didn't have the decency to even greet her!

Alas, Ron, apparently being in his own world, mistook her shocked silence for not believing that someone mighty and great as him could be asking her out... His illusions were shattered to pieces a moment later when a dark and overwhelmingly powerful aura that left no doubts as to why mademoiselle Delacour was chosen as a champion of her school started seeping out of French witch. Even Ron wasn't stupid enough to mistake this for a positive response, and so wisely took a step back as Fleur rose onto her feet.

"Get lost, little boy." She said flatly, yet in a way that made it absolutely clear that she wanted nothing to do with this impudent boy. And while Ron was still rooted to the floor, shocked by her rejection – apparently, he became so arrogant that he never thought this outcome was even possible – the Beauxbaton chosen champion strode past him and out of the Great hall.

The silence reigned for maybe thirty seconds, following mademoiselle Delacour's departure, but the whispers started breaking out all 'round the Great hall, and everyone was talking about what had just happened: Ronald's poor attempt at getting himself a date for the Yule ball... And as the boy's shock over being rejected started wearing off, he noticed that people were now all talking about him, and not exactly in a positive way. So, red in his face with embarrassment, the youngest of Weasley boys stormed out of the Great hall, not so quietly cursing the Beauxbaton champion for bringing this shame upon him.

Fleur was fuming. She knew that her heritage will be causing her problems, at least until she would settle down with some man and her veela allure would no longer be acting up as it was now, and she had trained herself to stay calm and indifferent through fools' attempts to woo her to get under her skirt. But what had happened earlier today in the great hall was a bit too much... Not to mention that it didn't look like even her rejecting someone like that would stop others if they knew she had no partner for the ball.

The obvious solution, thus, was to find one. But the Beauxbaton witch sure as hell didn't want to have her date turning into a barely-coherent pile of flesh the moment she loosened her control over her allure even for the tiniest bit. And that greatly decreased the number of those, whom she would consider as her possible date... So, the blond beauty did a quick recall of the boys that, she knew, were resistant to her allure.

All three other champions were the first ones to come to her mind. But she had seen monsieur Diggory being all cozy with some Asian witch wearing Ravenclaw insignia on her uniform, while monsieur Potter had definitely chosen that blond witch from Slytherin as his mate... No matter what nasty, though not always baseless, rumors about veela were saying, Fleur resolved to never lower herself to stealing men from their women.

This obviously left monsieur Krum as her prime choice. But now that she thought about the whole situation a little bit more, the French witch was not sure that the champions were allowed to have each other as their dates for the ball. She needed to consult the rulebook of the Tournament... Thus, once she was sure she had calmed down, Fleur headed to the Hogwarts library, which was the closest place where she could find the rulebook.

Later that day, after the dinner, Fleur parted from her schoolmates as they exited the Great hall. Yet, she didn't head anywhere and just stood there, next to the hall's doors, waiting. She didn't have to wait for long as the Durmstrang delegation, led by their headmaster, walked through those doors soon enough.

"Monsieur Krum, may I 'ave a word with you, please." The blond witch said once she had caught the sight of her fellow champion and was sure that he noticed her as well... The whole mass of the Durmstrang students stopped and Victor exchanged some words with headmaster Karkarov in a language that Fleur presumed to be Bulgarian. By the end of that exchange the wizard in the white furs didn't look too happy, but he still allowed the champion of his school to have his conversation, while continuing on his way to the Durmstrang ship with the rest of his students following him there in neat rows.

"Yes, Ms. Delacour, vat did you vant to talk to me about?" The ever-scowling wizard asked then.

"This would be about the ball, monsieur Krum. I take it, you 'aven't found a date for yourself yet?" Fleur asked, receiving a nod in response. "I can see that you don't want to 'ave some fangirl as your partner, just like I don't want an incoherent pig whose only thoughts are about getting under my skirt as mine." The international quidditch star nodded again, already seeing where this all was heading to. "With that in mind, I think, we could 'elp each other by becoming each others' partners for the ball." The Beauxbaton champion said.

"Is such thing allowed?" Victor asked, unsure that this was allowed by the tournament rules.

"Apparently." Fleur replied with a nod. "I 'ave found nothing that forbids it, at very least."

"I see..." The Durmstrang wizard said. "Let me consult my own copy of the rulebook first, though. I shall give you my answer tomorrow, Ms. Delacour." The french beauty nodded in response: this was actually more than she expected from this encounter.

"Thank you."

~/ *** \~

Thursday and Friday passed in a bit calmer manner for Harry: after being rejected repeatedly, the groupie girls managed to finally get the idea that he didn't want them through their rather thick sculls, and so they switched to trying to get other boys' attention. That, and the general excitement that followed the announcement of the Yule ball started to die down, even if it was still number one topic of the gossip.

Speaking of the gossip, for the last two days, it seemed that everyone was talking about Victor Krum asking Fleur Delacour to be his date for the ball – that had happened just after the breakfast on Thursday morning... At first, the young Potter was as surprised by this as the next person, but after thinking about it for a little bit, he could kind of understand what made those two make such an arrangement. It certainly helped them both in getting a preferable partner for the ball...

Anyway, it was half an hour past noon of Saturday now, and the green-eyed wizard was about to head to the Great hall to get some lunch before showing the fabled Chamber of Secrets to his lady. But before he could leave the Gryffindor common room, he was approached by a very nervous Neville, who obviously wanted to ask him about something.

"What's bothering you, Nev?" The dark-haired teen asked. "Out with it." The Longbottom heir, despite such an urge on, doddered something for a bit, before managing to give his friend an intelligible answer:

"It's all about the ball, Harry." He said. "How am I supposed to ask a girl out? And what if she says 'no'? What if... ?" The green-eyed wizard sighed: even though his friend wasn't naming the object of his interest directly, it was not hard to see that Neville had his eyes on Hermione. And not just because the bushy-haired witch was their best friend – in the recent days she certainly became quite appealing girl, though not everyone could see that just yet.

"Relax, mate, she won't hurt you." Harry replied. Pausing for a moment to quickly recall, whether or not Hermione had been asked out for the ball, he added: "And I think she'll say 'yes'. And if not... Susan and Hannah seemed to be mildly interested in you, Neville." Making another pause, the young Potter continued: "But, you know, nothing at all will happen, if you just sit there overrun by your worries. Be a man and at least try asking the girl you fancy out. You might be pleasantly surprised by her answer." And not really waiting for the other boy's response, Harry walked out of the Gryffindor common room.

The lunch for the green-eyed teen passed without any incidents and, having eaten his meal quickly, he was waiting for his girlfriend just outside the Great hall soon. Draconica didn't make him wait for long as she soon emerged through the doors leading into the Great hall.

"Shall we, my lady?" Harry asked as he extended his hand to the blonde witch. She just smiled in response as she accepted his hand. The two of them ascended to the second floor then, before navigating the castle's corridors to get to the Moaning Myrtle's bathroom... Thankfully, the ghost girl was not there, so they didn't have to listen to her bitching about the hard life of a specter or whatever else might be on her mind... "Open." The young Potter hissed in parseltongue, causing the sinks move apart, revealing a gaping entrance of a very large pipe. "Stairs." A wave of changes ran down the pipe, turning its floor into a very long stairway. "Lights." Right above the stairway, a line of evenly-spaced balls of cold-blue light appeared, lighting the pipe up somewhat.

"Wow." 'Nica had breathed out softly as she watched her man command the infamous Chamber of Secrets... They were about halfway down the stairway, when she spoke again: "This isn't the only entrance to the Chamber, right?" She asked, receiving a nod from Harry.

"Yes, I know three more, but this one is the most convenient and the most comfortable one that I know of..." He trailed off, but after a couple of seconds continued: "I'm quite sure that there is also a passage that connects the Chamber with lord Salazar's personal quarters in the dungeons, but I haven't been able to locate it myself, and I keep forgetting to ask his portrait about it." Draconica nodded, accepting his answer.

The rest of their way down was spent in silence, and before long, the pair stepped into what appeared to be a clean and surprisingly warm rocky cavern, lit by magical torches producing greenish-yellow light. There were no signs that less than two years ago this place had been filled with the skeletons of dead rodents and pieces of old basilisk's shed hide. Just like there were signs of Lockhart trying to perform an overpowered oblivate spell with a faulty wand that the buffoon had 'borrowed' from Ronald.

Before long, this tunnel ended, and the pair of teenagers found themselves in front of a granite wall with a huge circular door in the center. Having seen this 'gate' for the first time, Draconica was certainly impressed, especially by the animated iron snakes that played the role of the lock. Once the door was opened, the pair continued towards their destination, passing through a short(er) corridor lit by green torches... Finally they stepped into the fabled Chamber of Secrets.

Since Harry had been spending quite a bit of his time down there, the chamber now was in a much better shape than it was two years ago, though one still couldn't say that it was in a pristine condition...

"This place is incredible." 'Nica whispered, observing the infamous chamber as she stood next to one of the massive pillars that supported the ceiling of the cavernous room.

"That it is. And once you are the lady Slytherin in the eyes of Magic, it will be yours too just as it is mine now." Harry replied as he stood besides her. He was about to say something else, but before he had a chance to do that, he found himself pushed against the pillar, and not in an exactly gentle manner. A moment later hot body of the blond minx was pressed against his as she sealed his lips with hers for a heated kiss... "Looks like I will have to postpone introducing you to the house familiar..." The young Potter breathed out once they broke for some air. Draconica just smiled in return, before kissing him again.

Not content with just the battle of their tongues, future lady Slytherin slipped her hands underneath her lover's shirt and began running them up and down his chest... Harry too wasn't idle, having busied his hands with kneading those delightful, fleshy orbs of 'Nica's derriere, making her moan into their kiss as small jolt of pleasure ran through her body...

As they continued battling for dominance with their tongues, the blond witch's hands reached his waist on their way south and, wasting no time, she started working on unbuckling his belt, while arching her back to press her breasts into his chest. In response, Harry had slipped his hands under her skirt and, pulling her panties aside, started teasing her eager holes with his fingers... Finally done with his belt, Draconica undid his pants, letting his more than just eager for action cock out. Breaking their kiss, the pretty minx looked into his eyes for several long seconds and, giving him a quick peck on his lips, started sinking onto her knees...

That's all, folks!
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