March was bitterly cold, and Harry's snake spent most of her time curled around his neck. Harry didn't mind the company; often she would keep a running dialogue going in his ear about the various scents in the air, and Harry was kept continually apprised of what was for meals and where Anthony and Snape were in proximity to him, as well as how close the nearest prey happened to be, and would Harry kindly nip over to that mouse hole and fetch it for her?
Harry was cleaning for Filch one Saturday morning with a similar conversation being carried on in the background of his attention. From time to time he would hiss the Parseltongue equivalent of 'hmm, yes, that's fascinating,' to the tower windows as he scrubbed them. He had been going about this peacefully for the better part of the morning, having had an early breakfast, when he was interrupted suddenly by a passing group of Ravenclaws. Harry would usually ignore them, but when they saw him, their conversation dropped off and they stared.
Never a good sign, generally speaking. Harry didn't know any of these Ravenclaws particularly well, so he didn't bother saying anything. They walked past at a rapid clip, still gawking, and he looked back, quietly nonplussed.
After those Ravenclaws rounded the corner, Harry stashed his supplies in a cupboard and made a beeline for the nearest staircase, nearly knocking someone over in his rush as she reached the landing.
He grabbed her arm to steady her and started to apologise, until he got a good look at her. She was one of his year mates in Ravenclaw, though he didn't know her name. Her dark eyes were currently wide and fixed on him with some alarm.
"Erm," he said, unable to break the eye contact. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean… Pardon me."
When she broke their stare, it was only to look down at her forearm, which he was still holding. Harry let go as though he'd been burned and flushed.
"Sorry, I- er... Sorry." He had never been more embarrassed in his life, and she had yet to even say a word.
He never did get to hear her speak; when he let go of her arm, she looked him up and down, then glanced past him. He realized quickly that he was standing directly in her path and stumbled back out of the way. She gave him one more glance, still looking somewhat alarmed, and flicked her long dark hair over her shoulder as she hurried away.
Harry stood quietly for a moment and stared after her, having forgotten completely about the strange looks the other Ravenclaws had been giving him.
She was quite pretty.
It took another passing group of alarmed Ravenclaws to remind Harry of what he'd been doing. His snake hissed with amusement in his ear the whole time, turning Harry's ears red and causing him to ignore her adamantly.
He hurried down to the library, hoping Hermione or Anthony would have kept their copies of the Daily Prophet. He had a pretty good idea of where the stares were coming from. Now he just needed to know why.
"Is she stalking me?" he asked several minutes later, slapping the Daily Prophet down on the table and turning beseeching eyes on Anthony.
The second page was taken over by Rita Skeeter's trademark inch high scandal font. Parselmouth Potter Exposed!
The entire article was about Harry's ability to speak with snakes, and how he had even taken to 'corrupting young, promising minds with his insidious talents'. Harry let his head drop onto the paper with a thunk.
"Do you speak to Douglas in public?" he asked. Anthony shrugged.
"Not really. Parseltongue is frowned upon in most wizarding circles."
Harry canted his head to one side and looked sideways at him. "Thanks, Anthony. I would never have guessed from this article."
"Well, do you speak to your snake in public?" Anthony asked.
"Not especially," he said, staring down at the grain of the table again, shrugging as he felt her shift against his collar. "I mean, people definitely know I'm a Parselmouth. There was that whole thing in second year. But I don't really advertise it. And I don't know how she'd know I was tutoring you."
Anthony shook his head. "I have no idea. She's got to have some method for listening in on private conversations. But that's hardly surprising."
"You're quite infamous, Harry," Luna said, making Harry startle and lift his head. He hadn't noticed her arrival.
"Hey, Luna," he said. "Thanks, I guess."
She looked at him with her wide, perpetually fascinated eyes, and he remembered the Ravenclaw girl in the stairwell.
"Wh- I mean, er…" Harry stopped, realizing he had no clue how to ask who she was without embarrassing himself in front of Anthony and Luna. "That is, erm..."
Luna was still staring at him, though the quality of the expression had changed. More alarming still was that Anthony's gaze had joined hers.
Harry's snake took this moment to hiss in his ear. "They know," she said gleefully. "I can tell by their scent."
"You're blushing, Harry," Anthony said, furrowing his forehead. "What do we know?" Harry fought the urge to drop his head back to the table and tried instead to master his expression. Luna's expression had gone thoughtful, and broke eye contact to look around the library.
Harry fought with himself internally, but the desire to know who the girl was overrode any embarrassment he might currently be feeling. Besides, this was Anthony and Luna. It was possible that neither of them had ever been embarrassed about anything in their lives. These two of all people wouldn't tease him.
"I saw a girl on my way down from Ravenclaw Tower," he began, ignoring the snickers emanating from his collar. "I think she was in fourth year, and she was really pretty."
Luna beamed at him. So much for not being embarrassed. "Oh, do you fancy her?" she asked. "What did she look like?"
Anthony sized Harry up for a minute. "Did she look like one of the Gryffindor girls?" he asked. Harry thought about it for a second, then his eyes widened and he nodded. He had seen Hermione talking to a girl who looked a lot like his, but with a lot more pink.
"They're twins," Anthony explained. "Her name is Padma Patil. Her sister in Gryffindor is Parvati. Do you fancy her?"
"I... no," Harry muttered. His snake hissed in amusement.
"He does, he does," she exclaimed. Anthony cocked an ear toward her, and a slow smile began to form on his mouth. "When he saw her, he nearly fell down a flight of sta-"
"Yes, that's lovely," Harry said, standing abruptly. Luna glanced between him and the expression on Anthony's face, putting two and two together easily. "Well, thanks for the information," he said, "But I have to be going."
Harry waved over his shoulder as he walked quickly out of the library, face flaming.
"That was not funny," he muttered, scowling. The snake snickered as Harry descended a flight of stairs two at a time.
"I was just trying to help," the snake said. "Don't you think Anthony should have all the information?"
"No!" Harry rubbed his forehead, where a headache was forming. "Just. No. And stop talking. We're in a public area. We can't do that anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want people staring at me when I talk to you," Harry explained. "I don't like the attention."
There was a brief silence. "All that means is you can't respond to me," she pointed out. Then another pause. "Harry, the female who made your blood smell like the sun is nearby."
Harry tripped over a flagstone. "Wh-"
"Hush, someone will hear," she admonished gleefully. "You don't want that, do you? She is very near. Possibly on this floor or the next."
After a split second of thought, Harry turned away from the next staircase he'd been about to walk down and took an alternate route to the Entrance Hall, ignoring his snake's amused hissing entirely and stopping by the Slytherin dormitory to pick up his cloak and scarf. It was getting warmer outside by slow degrees, but it was still chilly enough that he buttoned his collar up tightly and cast a warming charm before he went out.
He trudged through the snow with no clear goal in mind. Now that they were outside the castle, his snake quieted considerably and burrowed down against his collarbone. It was an effective tactic.
"Harry!"
"Hullo, Harry!"
Harry looked up and saw Hagrid and a smaller figure waving at him from near the Quidditch stands. He quickened his pace and squinted. Looked like Neville.
"Hi Hagrid," he said as he arrived next to them. "Hey, Neville. What are you doing?"
Neville nodded at the pitch, cheeks red with excitement. "They're building the Third Task here. It's a hedge maze like mine, only much bigger. Hagrid said I could help him plot out the paths and some of the built in plant traps. Those are the most dangerous part."
"It'll be twenty five feet high when it's done," Hagrid boomed cheerfully. "Yer welcome to help as well, Harry. Just don' tell anyone, alrigh'?"
"Sure thing, Hagrid," Harry said, and he and Neville grinned at each other.
Hagrid had a pink umbrella and a small wheeled device with him, which was filled with green powder.
"We won' be putting down roots till May," Hagrid explained as they stood and looked at the pitch. "They'll be wantin' ter plan it all out now though. Where it all goes and what kinda creatures and the sort. We'll on'y be suggestin' things tonight."
"The entrance could go there," Neville suggested, and the three of them walked over to where he'd pointed, about halfway down the pitch. "That way almost everyone can see, and they'll have a few directions to choose from almost immediately."
Harry tried to picture the smooth grass of the Quidditch pitch replaced by hedges and felt a twinge of distaste. He resolved to take frequent advantage of the pitch before it was ruined in May.
Hagrid nodded, surveying the spot had Neville suggested and wheeling the device over. He flipped a switch on the handle and powder began pouring out of the bottom as he walked it along the perimeter of where the maze would be. Harry and Neville followed, watching the powder flow up from where it touched the patches of grass and snow and form thin green walls two feet high.
They walked around the pitch as Hagrid muttered to himself about lengths and feet and occasionally twitched his umbrella.
"Saw you in the paper this morning, Harry," Neville said as they walked.
"Yeah." Harry scowled. "I don't know how she found out I was teaching Anthony Parseltongue."
"Hermione and Dudley and I were talking about it, actually," Neville said, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Dudley said Skeeter's like a super spy and has us all 'bugged'." He paused. "He and Hermione seemed to know what that meant. Of course, Hermione shot that down immediately, because-"
"Hogwarts, a History says electronics can't work around a lot of magic, I'll bet," Harry finished, nodding. "I wondered the same thing, actually, but then I remembered that Dudley tried to bring his Gameboy to school last year and it nearly set his bag on fire when he got on the Platform. Uncle Vernon had to buy him a new one."
They took the last turn in the large rectangle Hagrid was making and started walking back toward the beginning of the wall. "Either way, she's got some way of watching me without me knowing it, and I don't like it," Harry continued. "Who holds a grudge this long, anyway? Why hasn't she found someone else to harass by now?"
Neville shrugged. "She's been reporting on the Champions a lot too. Mostly you get coverage when there's nothing going on with the Tournament, haven't you noticed?"
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"I have," he said. "And I'm guessing Hermione has too."
Grinning, Neville kicked at the powder wall experimentally. The toe of his boot passed right through and came out covered in a fine layer of green. The wall wobbled a bit.
"Careful there," Hagrid called back over his shoulder.
"Sorry, Hagrid," Neville responded, and shook the dust off his foot. Hagrid closed the rectangle with his powder and pressed the switch on the device. The three of them stood inside, looking around.
"Three different paths from here, each three feet across," Hagrid said, and started demarcating them with his umbrella. As he waved, powder flew from the outer walls and formed new walls in the interior. Neville pulled out his wand and tilted his head.
"Are they all going in at once?" Harry asked. Hagrid shook his head.
"Most points goes first," he explained.
"So Diggory starts," Neville added.
"They won't see which way the others went," Harry said, drawing his own wand. "Which means they're not just going to each take a separate path. They might follow each other without realizing it."
"There should be a trap that triggers for the second person to trip it," Neville agreed. "An Assassin's Vine would work well. On the middle one, probably."
They each took a path and built walls for it. Hagrid finished first, right in the center of the maze, and waved to both of them.
"They'll be endin' here," he explained as Harry brought his path around to meet the middle. "This is where the Cup'll sit."
"Now we need to build the branching paths," Neville said with a grin. His cheeks were red with cold, but he looked like he was having the time of his life. "This is the part where we get to be clever."
They got to work, and within a couple hours, Hagrid called a halt.
"Looks like we're nearly done," he said. "We'll trace it out and work it out a bit more, but this looks fine."
"I want to see the full effect," Neville said. "I'm gonna go up in the stands for a minute, Hagrid."
Hagrid nodded and waved him away, scribbling on a piece of parchment.
"Come on, Harry," Neville said, and opened up a hole in the green mist so that they could walk through without covering themselves in the stuff.
"Bet the Champions are going to wish they could do that," Harry said, and Neville laughed.
"They will if we did it right."
They climbed to the top of the Ravenclaw stands in amicable silence, and Neville whooped when they reached the top and were able to look at the maze from above.
"Look at that, Harry," he said proudly. "That is twisty."
Harry peered at it. "That is twisty," he said, and pointed out an especially nasty section. "Who did that part?"
"I think that was Hagrid," Neville said, leaning over the side of the stands to get a better look. "But I added the Venemous Tentacula at the end of it."
They spent a few minutes longer at the top of the stands. Neville was examining the maze in more detail, but Harry grew bored of that quickly, and started looking around. He could see the gates that led to Hogsmeade from here, distantly.
There was a figure standing at the gates, holding a wand. It looked like they were trying to break through. Harry frowned, and walked to the other side of the stands to get a better view. They really were trying to break the gates down by force.
It was strange, because they were inside the gates. They were trying to break out.
"Hey, Neville," Harry called, still staring at the figure. "Come look at this."
Neville abandoned his examination of the maze and tripped over a few seats on the way to Harry's side of the stands.
"Look at the gates, by Hogsmeade."
Neville leaned past Harry and peered in the direction he was pointing. "What are they doing?"
"I don't know." They watched together in silence as the figure threw another spell at the gates. They seemed frustrated.
"It can't be a student," Neville said after a minute. "They're too tall, and the robes are all wrong."
"That's no professor I know," Harry said. "Maybe it's one of the Beauxbaton students?"
"Or someone from Durmstrang," Neville agreed. "But why are they attacking the gates?"
"Seems a bit rude." They stared for a minute longer. Harry debated with his inner Slytherin for a minute or two, but Neville made the suggestion first.
"Want to go get a closer look?"
"Neville, that is a terrible idea," Harry said, deadpan. "What if they're crazy or they attack us or something?"
Neville looked at him from the corner of his eye, eyebrows raised.
"Yeah, alright," Harry said. "Let's go."
They waved at Hagrid as they left the pitch, walking along the sloping path to Hogsmeade.
"Look," Harry said as they approached the gates. "Pansy will kill me if we do this like Gryffindors. Let's at least sneak up on them."
"Right," Neville said, and they ducked off the trail, instead creeping along at an angle that kept a small copse of trees between them and the figure. When they reached the trees, they got as close as they could without leaving their cover, and peeked out at the gates again. Neville elbowed Harry and pointed, his expression confused. Harry nodded. He'd noticed too. The gates were open, but the person was still casting at them.
"Who is that?" Neville asked. Harry squinted at the figure as they tugged their slipping cloak back over their head. It was a woman with surprisingly blonde hair.
"Speak of the devil," Harry muttered, narrowing his eyes. "That's Rita Skeeter."
"What was she doing?" Harry asked, after Skeeter had finally stormed off in the direction of the lake. They were standing where she had been, examining the gates. Neville prodded at the metal with his wand.
"They're open," he shrugged. "I mean..." He stepped through the gates, turned around in a circle, and stepped back inside. "See?"
"D'you think she's stuck on the grounds?" Harry suggested, rubbing at the top of his head thoughtfully. "Why, though? Who would do that to us?"
Neville snickered. "No idea," he shrugged. "We should keep an eye on her or something, don't you think?"
"Maybe I can keep her from publishing things about me if I tell her I know," Harry said thoughtfully. "She clearly doesn't want to be discovered."
"Seems like the kind of idea a Slytherin would have," Neville said, smiling to soften the pseudo-insult. "Anyway, I'm going in for lunch. You?"
Harry nodded, and they set off toward the castle together. They had nearly reached the doors when a thought occured to Harry. "I'm going to run back to my dorm and grab something," he said, and they parted ways in the Entrance Hall.
He hadn't used his Map in a while. It had been sitting at the bottom of his trunk for at least a few weeks now, which was a shame. Harry resolved to change that.
Right after he found it. A quick dig through his trunk revealed no battered parchment, aside from an old essay. Harry frowned and checked his bedside table. Nothing.
The Map wasn't in his school bag either.
Or under the bed. Or under the mattress. Or in any of his pockets. Or caught in his hangings. Or anywhere.
Harry stopped searching and stared around his part of the dorm, feeling a bit panicked. He loved that Map. Not to mention, it was incredibly valuable to anyone on Hogwarts grounds. Maybe Blaise or Pansy had borrowed it?
He found them on a couch together in the common room, and had his hopes dashed.
"Sorry, Harry," Blaise said, sitting with an arm draped around Pansy's shoulders. "I haven't seen it."
Pansy shook her head as well. "Did you let someone borrow it?"
Harry shook his head, resolving at the back of his mind to interrogate all his Gryffindor and Ravenclaw friends, just in case he had inexplicably forgotten about handing over one of his prized (underused, said a guilty part of his mind) possessions.
He went back to his dormitory to search more thoroughly, and found Draco there. It was always awkward when the two of them found themselves alone in the dorm room with no Blaise to play buffer, but today Harry had other things on his mind. He dropped to the floor in front of his bed and crawled underneath, ignoring Draco entirely.
They passed about a minute in silence, but Harry had known that would never last.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked in a pseudo-casual tone.
"None of your business," Harry said, coming out from underneath the bed and stripping the sheets off his mattress. He paused, holding the pile of bedding in his hands, and looked at Draco. He might have taken it, however much Harry didn't like to think it of him.
"My Map is missing," he said, watching for Draco's reaction. There wasn't much of one, just a bit of a frown, and Harry continued in a pointed tone. "It's rather important that I find it."
"Right," Draco said, shoulders suddenly slumping. "I'll keep an eye out for it."
"Right." Harry tossed his bedding back on the mattress. It wasn't in his room. He was just wasting his time here. He'd go ask his friends in the other Houses instead.
Draco didn't say anything as Harry left.
A/N: Can I just reiterate that this story does not contain OTPs? Do not freak out about Padma. Please. I beg you. I don't care if you don't like her or if you love her and want them to get married. He's fourteen.
Also, yes. That was a WoW reference. Sue me. (Please don't sue me.)
Alright, so since I couldn't figure out how to fit this conversation into the story proper (I did, though. This should have gone at the end of the chapter when he got the owl, and I'm putting it there, but I'm putting it here too so you all get to see it), you get to read it as a cookie at the end of a chapter. This happened back in December, guys! Thanks to bungler, goku, and Nahmen, whose names of choice I used as suggestions, and to Diimortal, whose name of choice I couldn't NOT use. I am such an obnoxious owl-namer. XD
"How about we name him Paracelsus?" Harry consulted the list he and Hermione had complied. "It's the name of a famous alchemist."
"Too dignified."
"What do you think of Shiva? It's a Hindu god, also known as the destroyer."
"Fitting." His snake coiled more comfortably around his wrist as she considered the name. "I don't like it."
"Loki? The trickster god. He turned evil and the other gods had to chain him to a rock."
"Could we chain the bird to a rock?"
Harry snorted. "No."
"Then no."
"How about something simple, then. Gall, the patron saint of birds."
"That bird is not a saint. Don't be deceptive, Harry."
Harry laughed out loud, startling a passing second year. "Alright, we'll forget the saints and gods then. How about Abaddon? It means chaos and destruction."
The snake turned this over thoughtfully. "I like it. But it still sounds too dignified."
Harry shook his head. "Well of course he's going to have a dignified name. I'm not going to name him Stormageddon or something ridiculous like that."
The snake reared up with interest. "What does that mean?"
Harry ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "I don't know. It's a storm crossed with an Armageddon, which is the end of the world. But it's not a real name."
"I like it," she said adamantly. "We will call your bird Stormageddon."
Harry laughed. "No we won't. I think I'm going to go with Loki, actually."
"No, Stormageddon is perfect," the snake said firmly, and wouldn't hear another word on it. Harry made the mistake of telling Blaise and Dudley about the conversation, and from then on, everyone but Harry called his bird Stormageddon. It got to the point that Loki started answering to that instead, to Harry's immense frustration.