Chapter Warnings: cussing
Task
Harry tightens his fists, trying to keep the shaking to a minimum. He's excited, his cheeks are actually rosy from the heat of adrenaline flooding his body.
Whatever the task is, he'll complete it without a problem. Doesn't matter if it has anything to do with magic or not, Harry will gladly induce himself into a seizure just to receive even an ounce of notary in his House.
Under his school robes he's hidden the Invisibility Cloak and has other odds-and-ends stuffed in random pockets. Harry isn't sure what's going to happen, but he wants to be prepared.
Pacing the small bathroom for the umpteenth time, Harry decides that it's now or never. He exits the loo adjoined to the dormitory. The beds are empty, no doubt everyone is in the Slytherin Common Room aka; Slytherin Dungeon. Letting out a breath and sucking in deeply, the raven-haired male opens the door and makes his way to the meeting point.
The large room is cast in emerald, the usually burning hearth is out. Instead, there are candles lining the walls, magical green flames flickering up the sides. A silent black mass of witches and wizards are standing in a semi-circle with their hoods drawn, keeping their features unrecognizable. Shadows are cast around the room from their bodies, the shades contorting in a menacing dance. The Great Lake's aquatic noises ring off the stone walls and the Slytherin banner is awake. Hissing in the background, the snake slithers in the rippling fabric. Amused but otherwise silent, the reptile is in no immediate threat of snitching on the students. For now these actions are warranted, because this takes precedence: passage, tradition, and ceremony. Tonight is a night for trails...
Harry steps out from the darkness of the staircase and stands within reach of the group. Giddiness bubbles under his skin, but he remains impassive.
A person steps up and yanks down their hood. Malfoy, with gray orbs like silver mercury glimmer in the dark, that pale hair and face almost glowing under the green light. There is something almost ethereal about the blond.
"Thought you'd never show up, Potter." Draco grins easily at the other.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Harry squashes useless thoughts that have no reason to be flitting around his head at this moment. He nods in acknowledgment.
'Focus. Use the benefits his position guarantees and move on!'
Malfoy swings around to address his peers, "Everyone of relevance or importance has gathered here tonight to send off one of our own on an expedition that will raise his status in our ranks. If he succeeds then there are no doubts that he is one of us and deserves the respect that wearing Salazar Slytherin's colors provides. If he fails then his place is in question... he will be an outcast among us, until such a time he is allowed to prove himself again."
Murmurs sweep along the rows as the First Year Slytherin's whisper about Harry Potter's fate.
A wave of apprehension shudders through Harry as the weight of magic in the air settles around them. He swallows thickly and trains his eyes back on the blond as the boy steps up to him.
"As the Patron to this Passage into Prestige, I offer my support whether he passes or fails." Hand out, Draco grips the raven-haired male's palm tightly and pulls him forward with a harsh whisper, "Do try not to make me look like a fool!"
Harry's eyes narrow and he lets out a low hiss of understanding.
"The neutral ground is held. Who has chosen to be Harry Potter's Ally?"
A second hooded figure approaches to take Malfoy's right side. Blaise Zabini reaches through the space to Harry, "I stand with you for this Task."
Their hands clasp and Harry blinks as the Italian speaks quietly.
"But if you fail, I will not support you again."
He only stares bewildered as the boy glides away. The first traces of doubt are beginning to tingle in the crevasses of his mind.
"The positive ground is held. Who has chosen to be Harry Potter's Enemy?"
The last and third individual sidles up on Malfoy's left side. Pansy Parkinson sneers as she flops her hood down, raising her hand for Harry to take, "I stand against you for this Task."
Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Harry takes her hand and bends his waist, kissing the top of it. He feels wretched even though formality demands him to treat the awful girl with esteem just for the blood running through her veins. On the way up their eyes lock. Parkinson's face splits into a wicked grin, something sinister twinkling in her eyes.
"Don't get too settled on an easy win darling. You never know what's going to happen."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a promise." She winks and then slinks off to mirror Zabini beside Malfoy.
The niggling feeling in his subconscious expands with increasing dread. He knows for sure that Parkinson has altered the Task already, he will have to stay on guard and ready for anything now. With a sour frown, Harry straightens his spine and forces his attention on the blond youth.
"The negative ground is held. All witnesses have been chosen and agreed upon throughout the ceremony. Now begins your Task, Harry James Potter."
Silence reigns and Harry waits for a heartbeat before fidgeting in anticipation and uncertainty as he watches the Slytherin Prince dig in a pocket.
With a flourish, Draco whips out a long green ribbon. The boy holds it high above his head for the others to see. "A Hunt! There are three ribbons hidden on Hogwarts grounds, one from myself, one from Zabini, and the last from Parkinson. Each ribbon has a hint that will lead you to the next one. You must find them all and bring them back before First Bell for classes. If you cannot find them by then, you fail. If you are caught, you fail. If you receive help, you fail. Do you accept these terms?"
Arm outstretched, Harry takes the starting ribbon from the dramatic male, his eyes blazing with purpose. "I do."
A faint snap occurs on the outside of their conscious, where the swirling magic falls into place and the Task is accepted. Potter is bound by magic now and must use time to its full advantage. Draco Malfoy nods to the frail boy as the passage leading out of the Slytherin Dungeon opens.
Harry Potter, his childhood celebrity Hero is in the mercy of his hands. Never has Draco thought that the Harry Potter is tantalizingly dark and unfortunately weak. He should be ignoring the dying boy like everyone else, but how can he? There is something about the quiet gloomy boy that many can't see yet. Reminding him even of his godfather, Snape. Something hidden has yet to burst forth in that skinny frame. Draco is sure that soon, very soon, Potter will come into his own power and when he does, the Malfoy heir has decided to be on that side. Besides, he had idolized the other since he was a child... Harry Potter the babe who defeated the Dark Lord. In turn destroyed his father's dreams of Death Eater servitude, guaranteeing Draco a life of freedom away from pain and despair only for his Hero to grow up with both. If there's anything the blond can do for the other in a silent 'thank you', it's helping the Potter heir to fit in.
Glancing back at the group, Harry steels his nerves and leaves them behind as he enters the halls of the sleeping school. The stone wall groans closed behind him and he is now standing alone.
The air is chilly and damp, a pale light seeps through the halls from some distant source. Harry looks down at the ribbon in his hands. White curving words appear, the first hint:
This is where I observe. This is where I eat. This is where I sit above and watch you from my seat.
'There's only one place everyone eats. I'll start my search there.'
Harry shoves the ribbon inside his school uniform and tugs out the Invisibility Cloak, wrapping it around himself in a fluid motion. His form disappears from view and he sets off at a brisk pace towards the Great Hall.
Maybe it's coincidence or just pure luck, but nothing strange or irregular crosses the twisting path on the way there. The halls remain quiet, paintings wheezing in slumber and the dust continues to swirl in odd patterns under the moonlight streaming in from slender windows. A scent of lamp oil and marble polish is strong, as if the lower surfaces have been wiped in the short amount of time that students have bedded down. Hogwarts is simply too large to clean every nook and cranny, so it's understandable that most unused rooms or the top levels might be overlooked.
For a moment Harry wonders who does the cleaning... surely that degrading Mr. Filch doesn't? The sour man unable to use even an ounce of magic, only seems to be more of a nuisance to everyone than anything. On that thought, Harry peers both ways in front of the Great Hall doors, hoping that the aging squib isn't stalking the halls on this level. He'll have to make this quick.
Ducking into the large hall, Harry stands rooted to the spot. Deep inside his chest, a tingling begins as he roves his eyes over the empty benches and tables. Walking further in, he twirls around and the sensation rises, causing a smile to tug at his lips. Only a second later he realizes that he feels powerful. In a place that is normally bustling with life and students is completely silent and for now completely his, to do as he pleases with. Intoxicated, Harry reads the ribbon again. Green irises immediately jump to the faculty table sitting on a raised tier.
'That has to be it.'
Hurrying across the hall, the youth takes the step up and ducks underneath the table searching for the ribbon. He starts at the Headmaster's seat. Nothing. Harry checks the next one down, but still no ribbon. The flash of green catches his sight on the other end and he crawls towards it, trying not to accidentally let his Invisibility Cloak slip off. Dangling from under a seat is his prize. In the back of his mind, the raven-haired boy notes that it's tied to Professor Snape's chair.
'Hilarious.'
He reaches out and unties it, his arm exposed when a high squeak startles him. Head jerking to the side, two large eyes blink back which startle him.
"House Elf!" Harry hits his head and tumbles out from under the table, the cloak slipping away as he scrambles to stand.
The surprised creature points an accusing finger at him. "It be a student outta bed!"
"Shush!" He lunges forward to grab the elf, but the thing jumps aside wicked fast.
"Student! Student out of bed!" It shouts and turns, running down past the tables and out the door.
"Blood and Bones!" The young Slytherin hisses.
He looks around on the floor, but the Invisibility Cloak can't be seen! Quickly, having to leave behind the most valuable of his prized belongings, he dashed through the hall and into the large foyer. He can hear the echoing footsteps from the lower floor coming closer. No doubt that elf has alerted Filch and the man is now on the way. Heart slamming in his chest, Harry runs to the stairs and climbs them two at a time.
"Where? Where's the student?!" Filch appears from below, sliding on the marble floor with great gusto. There's a lopsided grin on his face as his beady eyes glare too and fro. One of the House Elves from the kitchen had spotted a student and he is going to catch them! Finally catch one of the rotten children! With a grunt the man takes off again towards the Great Hall...
On the banister, Harry watches through the bars as Filch sprints the opposite way. Slowly, Harry stands and tip-toes up the staircase. He wobbles violently as the stairs change direction, moving higher and letting him off on the sixth floor. In the shadows of an alcove, he curses to himself for having lost the cloak so soon. Hopefully, towards the end of his search he can go back and retrieve it before morning.
With a sigh, the young boy holds up the second ribbon to read the next riddle:
I shield, I protect, I defend, yet I am hollow inside.
Blinking in confusion, the Potter heir tumbles the words around in his head. Nothing enlightening pops up. With his adrenaline draining and the dreaded weakness sapping his strength, he slumps against the wall and stares ahead of him.
'Shield, protect, defend... but hollow?'
Across from him, Harry stares at his own reflection in the polished armor of a knight. The scrunched wrinkles slip away as both eyebrows climb high into dark strands. It finally sinks in and the boy grins with a sudden chirp, "Aha!"
Rushing to the suit of armor, Harry inspects it thoroughly, but he doesn't find a ribbon. His smirk dies prematurely and he lets out a groan of irritation. "Of course it's easy to guess what it is! That jerk didn't say where the ribbon's located."
Now he'll have to scour the whole school checking each and every knight he comes across. Did he even have time for that? Then there's the issue with Filch hunting for him as well, while he stands around without a cloak on. Harry smothers his face in both hands.
'I'll just have to check the upper levels first and then head down one floor at a time...'
"Right." The ambitious Slytherin shoves the ribbons back in his robes and yanks out a two-way mirror given to him by his godfather. The mirror is initially created so he can communicate with the one his father owns. There's no way he'd try to get a hold of his father right now, but he needs a way to traverse the halls without detection. Since his cloak is gone for the moment he'll have to use the mirror.
Stealthily, Harry travels along the sixth floor corridors using the mirror around corners. He ends up bolting past the Gargoyle leading up to the Headmaster's office. It's at the end of this hall, by a statue of a ridiculously dressed wizard, is another staircase leading the raven-haired boy to the seventh floor. This place is even darker than the others as it curves around a corner and disappears into blackness. Inching along, eyes and ears alert, body trembling with frailty running only on adrenaline, Harry takes careful steps.
He almost jumps out of his skin when several snorts issue from a painting just ahead of him. As he passes, Harry peers at a gaggle of trolls snoring on a floor littered with musical instruments in their beefy arms. A strange sight to behold.
There, almost towards the darkest end of the corridor is a kneeling knight with a ribbon tied to the hilt of it's sword. With a wave of excitement, the grinning male jogs up to it with quivering legs. Hand seizing the piece of silk, green orbs glimmer in barely contained joy, until he sees the hint left behind:
Meow...
Nothing more, nothing less. Realization dawns on him.
'Parkinson! That little wench!'
The witch diffidently has it out for him. There's only one cat that is famous and vicious enough to guarantee that Harry will get caught and get into trouble. Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris.
"Shit!"
"Shit indeed, Potter." A female voice proclaims, delicate hand falling on his shoulder.
His heart leaps into his throat and he turns around with a swallow, "F-Farley!"
Gemma Farley, the Slytherin Prefect with hazel eyes, grins down at Potter. "I heard from a little birdy that there would be someone wandering this floor after curfew." A sneer lifts the sides of her lips as she begins to drag him by the collar. "Let's go see what Professor Snape has to say about this..."
It's just instincts really. He sees Professor Snape as a role model... seriously! But uh... that doesn't mean he wants to be in deeper waters with the Dungeon Bat. So when Farley speaks his name, Harry's fight-or-flight instincts kick in.
"Hey! Get back here this instant!"
The short boy is rushing down the corridor towards the corner when the most peculiar thing happens-
His robes catch on a handle.
Normally this isn't so shocking since he is a klutz, but this isn't simply a random event. His robes catch on a handle to a door that magically appears from nowhere. The suddenness of it jerks him clean off both feet and slams him onto the floor. The back of his skull smacks soundly against the stone, sending a spark of pleasure racing throughout his body. A gasp falls from his lips, but he doesn't have time to enjoy the pounding bliss. He's being pursued. Fumbling to stand, he tries to rip his expensive robes from the handle. The robe is torn and wrapped up badly...
Just then, the sound of Filch's voice echoes from the staircase.
"Who's there?!"
Panicking, Harry jerks the robes off his shoulders.
The door opens...
On his left Farley is approaching fast, on his right Filch is also apprehending him.
Harry makes a millisecond decision and dives through the door... only to tumble down a flight of stairs. Head ducked between his hands, the boy grunts as he topples over the hard edges of the steps, phantom spikes of pleasure telling him he'll have a dozen or so bruises. He comes to a complete stop just as the older girl stumbles inside, catching herself on the first step. The annoyed look on her face is cut off as the door slips shut behind her. Everything goes dark.
Click.
"What the..." Gemma mutters, palming the handle to the door. Nothing happens and then the knob disappears entirely from her hand. Cursing, she pulls out her wand and tries Alohamora with no effect.
Loud banging rises on the other side, the muffled sounds of Filch yelling things sounding close to: expelled when I catch you!
Harry's breathing is heavy. The euphoria dissipates, but there is something dull pulsing in the back of his brain. An invisible string is tugging at him, trying to pull him down the next set of stairs.
A faint Lumos is cast and Farley shifts above on both feet. She eyes him wearily and comes stomping downward with a nasty frown on her face. "I'm not sure how this happened, but you're not to leave my side until I pass you off to our Head of House."
He tries to ignore his quivering insides.
'I got caught, but that doesn't mean I can't get away. She won't be able to prove she caught me unless she successfully drags me to the Dungeon Bat.'
Just then though, his hand lands on something awkward jabbing his side. He touches it carefully and sucks in a breath. "My wand!"
Sure enough the piece of wood is snapped, the Dragon Heartstring still attached from the dangling end.
Gemma lets out a long hiss of sympathy. To get caught in the halls after curfew is devastating to any First Year, to loose your wand too on the same night? She sighs and hunches down to take a closer look. "It's still attached. There's still hope to get it fixed, but for now let me put a Stasis Charm on it so it won't fall off.
Harry can only gaze through the lopsided glasses as tears begin to build up in his eyes. He swallows several times and lets out a watery whimper. In that moment he doesn't care if the Prefect feels sorry for him and is helping only out of pity. His wand... his wand. The only thing that ever truly belonged to him is now broken.
Farley's spell stabilizes the damage and with a last idea she transfigures the wand into a ring. Watching as the boy slips it on a finger, she tries to give him a reassuring smile. The kid ignores her. With a huff, the older Slytherin stands and pulls the boy up with her. "You have awful luck, Potter. Let's find our way out of here and I'll pretend I didn't see you tonight."
He can't even nod in agreement as they start down the stairs. Harry shivers without the warmth of his robes.
'My robes! No, no, no! My mirror! … Oh Blood and Bones, the ribbons!'
His robes are no doubt on the way to Filch's office.
Harry gripes his hair tightly, following after Farley as she descends the stairs. It can't end like this, he has to find a way out and get his things back! There isn't much time left until the sun starts to rise.
The two Slytherin's find themselves flummoxed as they come to another landing... and another set of stairs. Then after that, it repeats, going deeper and deeper down. A single lighting charm bobs above their heads as they both tread deeper into the earth, far below the levels that the castle can go.
If it's not for his frantic mind set on getting his things back, Harry might recognize the foreboding nature of his descent. His thoughts are elsewhere though, as he mechanically rubs the sensation building at the front of his head where the legendary scar sits.
Finally, the steps end.
Standing in a small cavern, they walk timidly inside. The witch doubles her charm and the space yawns high up, like a pit in the sky that can suck them upward into a beasts belly. Together they shiver and move along the short natural pathway. On the opposite end of the dripping space, where stalactites and stalagmites have formed monstrous shapes, they find themselves at a circular stone portal. A language, old and Celtic is scrawled across a beam resting above the massive door.
Gemma runs her eyes over the structure that seems solid and unmovable for probably thousands of years. "I don't think this is going to be a way out..."
Harry stands utterly still.
Letting out an annoyed grunt, Gemma turns to make her way back across the area. She stops short and turns with a frown when she realizes that she's not be accompanied. "Potter?"
No response.
The young male is standing there facing the sealed portal, body motionless and eerily silent. "Po-"
"Can you hear it?" Harry whispers.
"What?" Gemma grind out in confusion and a bit of fear for the darkness and unknown crawling closer. She listens, but hears nothing besides their own shaky breathing.
A tremble in his voice, "It's teeth..."
She has no idea what he is talking about, and it doesn't matter. If they can't get out this way they'll need to go back and try beating on the wall. Maybe Filch would show back up and they'd figure a way out.
"It's clacking its teeth together..."
Chapter End.