Chapter 12

Monday morning greets Harry like a slap in the face, making him wince as thoughts of classes, painfully red hair, and Gildroy Lockhart invade his mind. He rolls over, grumbling tiredly under his breath about Ron Weasley's obnoxious voice and Lockhart's unfathomable stupidity.

'I can afford to skip class today, right? I mean, it's only fair. I think I deserve this.' Harry internally debates, becoming more and more accustomed to the idea as the seconds tick by. He imagines two Harrys, one sitting on his left shoulder, dressed in a leather jacket and black ripped jeans, and the other on his right, wearing a blue button up and khakis. The Harry on his left wholeheartedly agrees with his proposition, stating things like "Professor Lockhart can suck it" and other phrases that may or may not be school appropriate. All the while, "Good Harry", the prat, is saying, "No, Harry, you cannot skip class. Now, get your lazy arse out of bed or we're going to be late." Now that Harry thinks about it, "Good Harry's" voice sounds suspiciously like Draco. 'Well, that's odd.' Harry thinks before mentally flipping "Good Harry" off.

Suddenly, Harry feels someone shaking him, and "Good Harry's" voice filters through his ears again. "I said wake up, Potter. Don't make me hex you."

'Hold on,' Harry thinks, 'mental images can't touch you.' Harry begins piecing things together, coming to the conclusion that maybe "Good Harry's" voice reminding him of Draco's wasn't actually his mind's way of pissing him off. He cracks his eyes open and is met with Draco Malfoy's annoyed face looming over him. Harry swiftly decides to flip him off too, for consistency's sake. Nonetheless, he rises from his bed, like a zombie from its grave, and moves to sit on the edge, looking around the room with tired eyes.

"You were talking out loud, you know?" Harry grunts in response and rubs his eyes in a futile attempt to wake himself up. Draco snorts and cuffs him upside the head. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He teases in a mocking tone, moving his hand to ruffle Harry's already mussed up hair before retreating to the bathroom with a call of, "If you're not standing at the door all bright eyed and bushy tailed by the time I get back, there will be severe consequences." Harry rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue at the retreating figure of his best friend.

"I saw that, Potter!" Draco yells before slamming the door shut behind him. Harry briefly wonders if Draco is hiding a spare set of eyes underneath all that blond hair. He shakes the thought from his head and deems the situation as another mystery in the enigma that is Draco Malfoy.

Harry gets up, stumbling over to his trunk and haphazardly pulling out his clothes, wishing that he could have listened to "Bad Harry" and just gone back to bed.

~~~Time Skip~~~

Harry's mood improves dramatically about halfway through breakfast. As usual, the owls swoop in through the open windows, delivering packages and letters to the students. Harry and Draco get an assortment of sweets and a letter from Lucius and Narcissa asking them how their classes have been going. The letter sparks the idea to write to Lucius in their three-way journals to tell him about the incident with Justin and Sir Nick's petrification, as well as ask him some questions regarding Dumbledore and his dubious intentions toward Harry. However, this alone is not what changes Harry's day for the better.

Harry suddenly hears the easily recognizable sound of Fred and George Weasley taunting and jeering at their younger brother, which for obvious reasons, immediately draws Harry's attention. When he looks over to assess the scene, he notices a red envelope clutched tightly in Ron's shaking fingers and a hilariously horrified look on the bothersome red head's face.

"This ought to be good." Harry hears Draco say from beside him. Harry turns to look at Draco questioningly, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Why's that?" Harry asks.

Draco scoffs and continues to spread strawberry jam across his toast nonchalantly as he says, "Weasley's got a howler." He replies simply, taking a bite of his toast, somehow managing to make even that look dignified and aristocratic.

"Who's got a howler?" Blaise buts in excitedly, whipping his head around, his mouth still full.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth, Zabini. I thought you'd been raised better than that." Draco says before taking another bite.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Malfoy. But seriously, who got a howler?"

"Weasley did," Harry responds, "Whatever a howler is."

"You don't know what a howler is?" Theo jumps in.

"No idea." Harry responds, looking back over at Weasley, who is getting increasingly upset at his brothers' teasing.

"A howler is an enchanted letter that projects the sender's voice. It's usually used by parents to discipline their children. If you notice, Weasley is starting to look like he's in pain. That's because the Howler will start to heat up once it's received and will eventually explode unless it's opened." Draco explains, aloof as ever as he carefully evaluates his nails.

"Oh…" Harry mumbles, thinking about what Draco said. "Then this is about to get very exciting, isn't it?"

"Hell yeah, it is." Blaise cheers, training his eyes on Weasley, waiting for the inevitable.

Suddenly, a shrill voice pierces Harry's ears, startling him slightly and causing him to drop his spoonful of porridge back into his bowl.

"Blimey, that's loud!" Harry yells, glaring heatedly at Draco, who is staring innocently back at him, as if to say, "I'm so terribly sorry, Harry. I forgot to warn you about the noise." Harry doesn't believe it for a second. He quickly tunes back into the scene unfolding at the Gryffindor table.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! How dare you! Professor McGonogall contacted me to inform me of your actions during Duelling Club. I am unbelievably ashamed of your behavior! Your father and I taught you better than to attack a fellow student when the circumstances do not call for it! Let alone when the rules were to disarm only!" By now, the entire student body is openly staring at Ron, snickering at the deep red spreading across his features, a sure sign of his embarrassment. Harry can't find it within himself to feel any sort of remorse for the Gryffindor, and he ends up laughing right along with his schoolmates.

"What if your opponent had been harmed, or worse, killed?! Needless to say, your father will be contacting you as well and you will be on severe restriction for the duration of the Christmas holiday. And, I assure you, if you put even a toe out of line, your father and I will hear about it, and we'll see to it that you are confined to the house doing chores for the entirety of the summer!"

With that said, the shrieking ends and the howler promptly bursts into flames, making Weasley jump in fright. He turns his head downward, listening to the jeering coming from the Slytherin table and Red and George's sing-song chant of, "Ickle Ronniekins is busted!" Harry laughs at the twins' antics, especially when Ron slams his head down onto the table in utter defeat.

So, yeah, Harry's day has officially been upgraded from irritatingly dull to fantastically amusing. Once the commotion has faded and breakfast has come to a close, Harry stands and begins the journey to the greenhouse with the feeling of sweet justice settling in his gut.

~~~Time Skip~~~

The day passes by in a blur, and sooner than Harry would like, he finds himself seated next to Draco, staring pointedly at Gilderoy Lockhart's infuriating smile.

Students are slowly filtering into the classroom, and once everyone is seated, the class quickly grows silent. All eyes are now fixed on Professor Lockhart, who is still grinning ear to ear, much to Harry's dismay. When Lockhart is sure that all attention is on him, he begins explaining the day's lesson.

"Today we will be learning about Ghouls. And, much to your fortune, you will be receiving my first-hand experiences and expertise on these pesky little creatures." Harry groans while Draco, Blaise, and Theo snort in amusement at Harry's not so inconspicuous disdain for Lockhart and his overly inflated ego.

After a pause, Lockhart, unfortunately, continues speaking. Harry doesn't pay much attention to the fraud's rambling, instead using all of his brain power to plot Lockhart's demise. He's just transitioning into the "how to hide the body" phase of his scheme when a brilliant idea pops into his head.

Harry elbows Draco in the ribs to gain the blond's attention. "I'm gonna do a thing." Harry whispers once Draco is focused on him.

"What kind of 'thing'?" Draco inquires quietly, leaning in so Harry can hear him.

Harry smirks. "The fun kind."

Draco's eyes widen in panic. "Potter, don't you dare." He hisses in warning, his eyes narrowing into a glare that does absolutely nothing to deter Harry.

Harry's smirk deepens as he stares Draco down in an obvious show of defiance and pulls out his wand. Draco makes a grab for it, but before he reaches his target, Harry moves it underneath the table and points it directly at Lockhart.

"Herbifors." Harry casts in a hushed whisper.

For a moment, nothing happens. Draco sighs in relief and slumps in his seat, coming to the conclusion that Harry's attempt to be a nuisance to society has failed. Harry, however, waits patiently for the inevitable.

After a few more seconds pass, the first flower appears, sprouted out of Lockhart's head, its lime green petals clashing violently with the Professor's blond hair. Snickers and sounds of confusion begin to spread through the classroom. Draco leans forward and puts his head in his hands.

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes." Harry mumbles proudly in combatance to Draco's statement. The two boys look at each other, Draco sporting a seething glare from behind his hands, and Harry with a face-splitting grin on his lips.

Draco groans and chances a look back up to the front of the class, noticing that one flower has turned into half a dozen flowers with strange and obnoxious colouration, and Lockhart's look of confusion at his class' loss of attention.

After a few more moments, Hermione speaks up. "Um… Professor… You may want to look in a mirror." It's clear that she's holding back her laughter while she's speaking.

Lockhart's expression goes from confused to horrified as he picks up a mirror, because of course he has one just lying around, and his hands quickly reach up to his head, groping at his scalp. A few flower petals flutter to the ground as he desperately feels around in his hair, trying to confirm that, yes, he does indeed have a garden blooming in his perfectly luscious golden locks.Then, in a show of dramatics that would make even Harry jealous, Lockhart screams, slamming the mirror down and scrambling from the room, holding the top of his head and screaming, "My hair!" so loudly that Harry is sure it can be heard on the other side of the castle. At this point, the class is laughing uproariously, and many students are looking around the room, trying to find out who had the guts to do such a thing.

Draco slams his head on the table. "I hate you."

"Shut up, you love me."

"Unfortunately."

~~~Time Skip~~~

Later that night, Draco and Harry are sitting comfortably in a deserted corner of the Slytherin common room. They have Harry's three-way journal sitting between them and Draco is holding a quill in his right hand, tapping it against his chair's armrest.

"What exactly should we say?" Harry asks, staring out the glass wall and into the murky green water of the lake, watching the fish swim by. He thinks he catches a glimpse of one of Kalvin's giant tentacles in the distance, but he can't be sure.

"What do you mean?" Draco mumbles in reply, ceasing his tapping and bringing his hands up to his chin, steepling them with his elbows resting on his knees.

"It's just…" Harry begins, pausing briefly to sigh and run a hand through his hair. "Are you sure we should tell him everything? This is a sensitive matter. I wouldn't want your family to get caught up in something that could ruin their political standing. Not only that, but Dumbledore still holds power in the Ministry, even after the whole trial fiasco. I guess I'm just worried, is all." Harry finishes, sighing once more and letting his head fall against the back of his chair.

"You needn't worry about my mother and father, Harry. They know how to handle themselves. If we tell them everything, then we can at least ensure that they are prepared for whatever happens. And besides that, I'm sure my father will have some ideas about how to handle Dumbledore and his schemes."

There's a brief pause as Harry mulls over what Draco has said. "You're right." He replies simply, sitting up and pulling the journal into his lap. Draco hands him the quill, and Harry begins writing. Taking advice from Draco as he goes along.

The finished product reads as such:

Lucius,

I am writing to you to inform you of recent events that have taken place at Hogwarts. There are still some elements of these happenings that are unclear to me, and I am hoping that you could shed some light on the situation and possibly advise Draco and me on how to proceed. Draco and I decided to use the three-way journals because of the sensitivity of the matter. We believe that it requires discretion, and therefore do not want to take the chance of a letter containing this information being intercepted.

First and foremost, there has been another petrification incident, this time a ghost, Sir Nicholas, and a Hufflepuff boy by the name of Justin Finch Fletchley. I was the one to discover them and was subsequently found at the scene, which has seemed to convince most of the student body that I am the one behind the petrifications. I was taken to Dumbledore's office to discuss the matter and it was ultimately decided that I had nothing to do with it. However, the fact that I have been the one to discover most of the people who have been petrified is concerning in and of itself.

The next issue I wish to discuss centers around a certain ability I have. Up until recently, no one other than me knew about it. However, due to recent events, the entire school now knows. I apologize for not telling you and Narcissa sooner, but until this point, I didn't think it was relevant other than the fact that it is a rare ability. I'm a parselmouth.

I'm sure you heard about the recent establishment of Hogwarts' Dueling Club, run by Professor Lockhart. Well, at the first session, Ronald Weasley and I were chosen to duel. Once the duel began, things quickly escalated, and eventually, Weasley cast a spell to conjure a snake. The poor thing was scared - rightfully so - and tried to attack Justin, the boy who was recently petrified. I used parseltongue to convince her to stand down, and now, most of the school believes that I am the Heir of Slytherin. And, as you can imagine, that theory was only solidified by Justin's petrification.

On a more positive note, however, I have been allowed to keep the snake as a companion. Her name is Adira and we seem to get along very well, although, I can tell that Hedwig is a bit jealous.

The reason I am specifically mentioning this is because I am unsure of Headmaster Dumbledore's motives for allowing me to keep Adira. It is entirely possible that he did this for no other reason than to be nice, but I have my doubts. After everything he's done to ensure that I am under his control, I find it hard to believe that he would do anything without an ulterior motive, especially where I'm concerned. If my suspicions are correct, then I want to be prepared for anything. We all know the lengths he is willing to go to in order to get what he wants. Needless to say, I am not keen on becoming his lapdog, nor do I want to relinquish my ability to fly under his radar. I'm wondering if you have any insight on this matter, and/or any suggestions as to what Draco and I should do about the situation. We intend to speak to Severus about it as well once we receive a reply from you.

I hope you and Narcissa are doing well. Draco and I appreciate the sweets and letters that you have been sending and we are both very excited to see you during the Christmas Holiday!

Best Wishes,

Harry

Once the letter has been reread, Harry shuts the journal with a snap and leans back in his seat.

"Well, I suppose all we can do now is wait." Draco says, standing from his chair. The blond raises his arms above his head, stretching out his aching muscles as he yawns. He sighs, and then taps Harry's shoulder, prompting the dark-haired boy to open his eyes and meet Draco's gaze. "Come on, there's no use sitting here and worrying about it. We should get some sleep. We have transfiguration first thing in the morning, and I know how abysmal you are at it." Draco chuckles and grins playfully, earning an animalistic growl from his best friend for his efforts.

"As much as I hate to say it, you're right." Harry replies, standing and walking past Draco to descend the stairs. "Oh," He starts, looking back for a moment, "by the way, don't get used to me agreeing with you. I can see the satisfaction in your eyes and I just know you're going to hold this over me. Remember, I can, and will, make your life a living hell." Harry smirks and growls again. "Anyway, sleep well!" Harry calls out as he turns back to the staircase and heads down to bed, leaving Draco shaking his head and chuckling behind him.

Draco sighs and runs a hand through his hair, smiling fondly at his friend's retreating figure.

"Some things never change."