CHAPTER 17: Slytherin Manoeuvres (Part 4)

Gryffindor Common Room

October 15th, 1995

2:45 a.m.

The Gryffindor Common Room had never been as quiet as it was now. Hermione's rapid scratching as she was hunched over the desk, writing faster than he thought possible, and the cracking of the fire nearby were the only sounds he could hear.

It was almost three in the morning, so it wasn't a surprise that the three of them were the only ones left down there. He was incredibly behind his assignments, and he still had to plan out the next session of the DA before he went to bed. Hermione, while not behind, had still made it her mission to do as many assignments in a day as humanly possible without the assistance of a time-turner. And Ron… he had long given up, currently sleeping on the couch beside them.

The burning stab in his hand was the only thing he could think of as his eyes glazed hollowly at the pages of the book in front of him. Long ago had he given up on even trying to read the words it contained. He had never been fond of reading or studying, not even during his first two years at Hogwarts, when he had been hopeless at anything that involved magic. He could still remember the murmurs around the hall.

"Neville Longbottom?"

"No way."

"It's true, can't even cast a levitating charm to save his life."

"But he's the Boy Who Lived!"

"What an embarrassment!"

For a whole year, he had been mocked, ridiculed, torn to shreds by all the people who had been professing their adoration for him since before he could even remember. Every time he failed at a spell, lost control of his broom, was made the laughingstock by a dark creature - he would never forget all the times he had been humiliated. Malfoy and the other Slytherins weren't the only ones. There wasn't a single student in the school, apart from Ron and Hermione, who didn't torment him whenever they could.

It hadn't been until he had saved Hermione from the troll on their first Halloween that, suddenly, people forgot all they had been putting him through and acted as if he was their best friends. It didn't last, of course, he'd gained the love and hatred of the school too many times to count. His lacklustre talent at magic during his first two years made it so that his moments of glory never lasted. When he broke his father's wand in the Chamber of Secrets, he had thought it the worst thing that could have ever happened to him.

How wrong he had been.

After all the embarrassment he had endured, the constant shame around the school that had made his life a living hell for the first two years. He had almost exploded to his grandmother the moment he found out why that had been the case. But as much as he wanted it, he could never muster it. The old woman still had a hold over him that he hadn't been able to shake, and he didn't think he ever would.

His new, holly, eleven-inch wand powered by a phoenix feather core had been life changing. The easiest feats of magic he'd struggled for months with his old wand had become less than an afterthought for him. It wasn't just how easily he could cast the spells, but he noticed they were more powerful than anyone in the classroom. Even Hermione's. He could have even sworn it had made her jealous at times, though she never brought it up, and he wasn't exactly in a rush to do it.

It had been because of his new wand that he'd managed to perform such feats of magic like conjuring a corporeal Patronus before he even turned fourteen. And a big reason as to why he had survived the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort's return. Without it, he would've been dead ten times over. People were even starting believing in him again, it had been as if the legend of the Boy Who Lived had sparked to life again. It certainly stopped anyone from ever mocking him for his lack of talent.

But even then, things were far from perfect. Just the opposite, every year seemed to be getting worse and worse. He hadn't managed to take Pettigrew to Dumbledore and exonerate Sirius, a man who treated him as if he was family. He had been entered into one of the most dangerous magical tournaments in wizarding existence, all in an elaborate plot to bring Voldemort back from the death. He had to watch Cedric-

Everything had gone to shit, and to top it all off, the entire wizarding world had turned against him not once, but twice in the past twelve months. Umbridge had somehow wormed her way into taking control of Hogwarts, and as the days passed and her Educational Decrees began filling the walls of the Entrance Hall, it had become harder to restrain himself from hexing her into oblivion. All the while having to endure as she forced him to carve those five little words into his hand.

I must not tell lies.

He could barely use his hand nowadays, his parchments were filled with chicken scratch that was barely legible by himself. Snape hadn't been the only one to fail all of his assignments because of that, but he had been the one to take the most pleasure out of it. He had had so many chances, so many nights alone with the toad.

How he wished he could grab his wand, aim it at her chest as the two words ever present in his mind left his lips and ended her reign for good. It would be so easy, solve so many of his problems would be solved with a couple of words.

She deserves it.

She did. All the pain she'd brought, the students she had tortured, the ones she'd go on to torture. A howl of rage blared within him, he could feel his blood boil as his mind focused on Umbridge. Her sickly smile as he carved his flesh, the nauseating laugh she would do as his blood dripped into the parchment.

You know the spell, Neville.

He did. He knew it. He couldn't escape it. It would haunt him all day and night, the green flash of light he'd see every time he would turn a corner, every night he closed his eyes as Cedric's death played in his mind over and over again. It wasn't a spell he was supposed to use, one his side of the war wasn't allowed to use. But if Voldemort could do it…

Do it!

"Neville!"

He blinked, only now realising how creased the pages of his book were under his fingers. He could feel as all that rage suddenly left his system, deflating as fast as a balloon. Hermione's eyes were scanning him nervously, as if in fear he'd even lift a finger against her.

He hated that look.

"Sorry," He scratched the back of his neck.

Hermione hesitated. "What spell?"

"Sorry?"

"You know the spell, Neville. You- you whispered that. What spell?"

"It's nothing, Hermione." He snapped at her, his annoyance rising.

"It's V-Voldemort, isn't it."

"Hermione-"

At that moment, a blaze of flames burst out of the fireplace, instantly waking Ron from his slumber. He shot out of the couch, crashing on the ground as he looked around wildly. But neither Neville nor Hermione paid attention to him, they ran towards the fire as two faces began forming in it.

"Sirius!"

"Professor Lupin!"

"Finally caught you, have I? I've been popping in for the past few days and I haven't seen you around. You are alone, aren't you?" He whispered.

"Of course we're alone," Ron said as he made his way towards them, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, people are closer to waking up than falling asleep."

"Sirius, why are you still doing this?" Hermione asked anxiously. "The risk is too much!"

"You could've sent a letter. I haven't heard from you since the beginning of term."

"I've tried, Neville. But Perseus hasn't been able to pass the Hogwarts wards."

"Umbridge has been stopping any mail that doesn't come directly from the Ministry towards the school." Remus told them. "We would've used the Ministry owlery, but Kingsley told us they are searching all the mails and packages that are being sent there."

"That's barbaric!"

"That's how things are now, Hermione, and they will only get worse. But enough about that, we want to know about you. Did you manage to gain access to the Room of Requirement?"

"Well…" Hermione trailed off bashfully. "Yes?"

"Yes!?" Ron cried out. "You forced us to let that snake in!"

"He's not the worst thing in the world, you know? You act as if he's already wearing a Death Eater mask!"

"Give it a few years."

"Who?" Sirius asked.

"Potter!" Neville and Ron spat together.

"Potter?" Sirius' voice was low and cold, unlike anything he'd ever heard from him before. "Harry Potter?"

"Yes!" Ron almost shouted. "That arse forced us to let him in, he somehow controls the Room of Requirement. We didn't want to let him in, but Hermione didn't share in our common sense!"

"What's your problem with him?" Hermione asked heatedly.

"Besides, oh, I don't know… everything!? He's a snake! He's been hanging around those mini Death Eaters! He's a complete arse that has attacked both me and Neville! And of course, he couldn't help but show off. First at the meeting with his stupid stunt and then earlier today at the Quidditch tryouts! Honestly, since when does he even care about Quidditch, anyway?"

"Oh, honestly, Ronald. Just because you're jealous of him doesn't mean he's evil-"

"I'm not jealous!"

"And what did you expect? He's in Slytherin, it's not his fault that most of his classmates have Death Eaters as parents. Besides, just because their parents are Death Eaters doesn't mean they are."

"No, you're right. I'm certain that Malfoy is a big softie on the inside, we should invite him up for a butterbeer this weekend."

"Ron's right, Hermione." Remus told her.

"What!?"

"See!"

"I understand the need of letting him into the DA-"

"The need!?" Sirius snapped. "Are you mad?"

Remus sighed. "As much as I hate to say it, if Potter somehow commandeers the Room of Requirement, then there was no other choice. Without the room, there's no way they could've started the DA right under Umbridge's nose. But, Hermione, don't for a second think he's your friend."

"I never said he was my friend-"

"Good."

"I'm just saying he's not evil or anything like that. He's not even like Malfoy or any of the other Slytherins. He's- he's different."

"You don't know him like I do," Remus spoke, his calm voice holding a hint of anger. "Trust me when I tell you, he is not your friend. Harry Potter doesn't care about you, or Neville, or the war, or anything other than himself. He'll gladly watch you bleed out on the floor if it meant he could get rich from it."

"He's not like that," Hermione insisted, the statement bringing another blaze of anger inside him. "I mean, yes, he's a bit of a jerk."

Neville and Ron glared at her.

"A pretty big jerk." She corrected.

"More like the biggest arsehole in the castle." Ron muttered.

"He's been nothing but helpful, and yes, I know that somehow he's gained something from it. But he has come through with his promises, he made sure the first meeting was safe and has been allowing us access to probably the most powerful magical room in all of Hogwarts for nothing in return. After all of that, how can you not give him the benefit of the doubt? If he really wanted to screw us over, he would've already done so."

"Unless he's playing the long game." Ron commended darkly, and Neville couldn't help but internally agree.

"He's a Slytherin, Hermione!" Sirius barked, and for a second, he looked as haunted as he did when he first met him. "You don't understand. For all I know, he could've been the greatest guy before coming to Hogwarts. But Slytherin, it changes you, rots you to your core until not even your family can recognise you! And after everything I saw from him, everything you've told me, and what he did to Remus-" Sirius choked up. "You can bend over backwards trying to change him, save him, but he's a snake. He'll always be a snake. And if you three don't watch your backs, he won't hesitate to attack."

"Professor Lupin," Hermione pleaded, needing to find anyone to support her.

"I'm sorry," Remus said coldly, his voice unlike he'd ever heard it before. "But if you want sympathy for Harry Potter, you won't find it with me."

Corridor in the Dungeons

October 16th, 1995

8:45 p.m.

The hallway was empty as Harry entered it, the cracking from the fire in the torches above loud enough for him to hear as he made his way through it. It was strange, Harry couldn't remember the last time he had walked alone without Snape or any other teacher begrudgingly acting as their chaperons.

He began to notice it two days ago, right after the Quidditch tryouts. The teachers had gradually stopped caring about Umbridge's Educational Decrees. Harry couldn't blame them, Hogwarts didn't just become hell for the students, after all. It was so much extra work for the teachers, and useless at that. It was honestly a surprise they hadn't started breaking the newly imposed rules earlier in the month. Even the most strict teachers like McGonagall and those who just liked tormenting students like Snape had begun disregarding the Educational Decrees.

But only when Umbridge wasn't around.

There were few times when she wasn't there, the bright pink spot that seemed to roam the whole castle just for fun, never missing a thing. She enjoyed punishing the students, forcing them into her sadistic fantasies as they cut themselves night after night. It didn't matter what you did, the gravity of your crime didn't affect the sentence, just the time. Whether it was a day, a week, a month, or the entire year, you couldn't escape her blood quill.

But in the end, that turned out to be her downfall. Every day, she would always be in her office for three exact hours. Three hours when she couldn't spy on everyone, when she didn't even seem to pay attention to her portraits situated all over the castle. Three hours when they could do whatever they wanted.

He didn't think anyone else had noticed, people weren't as observant as they thought. There were exceptions, obviously, Parkinson and Greengrass had noticed, Montague as well, and even other seventh year students from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. He gave it about a week before the rest of the castle took notice of it.

Abruptly, Harry stopped in his tracks. The room looked slightly dimmer than before, and for a moment, he thought he had heard something. But now it was too quiet. He hovered his hand over his holster but didn't take out his wand. Scanning for anything amiss, he was only met by the snoring portraits and the odd statue along the halls.

The lack of anything at all only made him more paranoid.

He opened his hand, summoning his wand from the customized holster he had bought the summer before his fourth year.

It had been pricey, taking up most of the money he'd earnt from writing essays, but the features were too good to pass up on. It was made completely out of moleskin, its magical properties making it, so only the owner could retrieve the wand. As well as having several enchantments placed on it to summon it with a single hand gesture. Virtually indestructible and completely invisible from any counter-cure, enchantment, jinx, hex, or any sort of magic a person could imagine. But most of all, invisible to any Ministry scan - something that's crucial given how illegal it was.

It had been the first time he had bought something from Knockturn Alley, but it certainly wasn't the last time.

Harry cast a silent Human-prescence-revealing spell, keeping his wand pointed to the ground and his face as clueless as possible. All the while, he looked around, spotting the three red silhouettes that had been revealed. The figures were large, most likely sixth or seventh-years. There were two behind him and one in front of him, all ready to jump.

The idiots hadn't recognised the feeling of the spell crashing on them.

"H-Hello," Harry stuttered, putting as much fear into his voice as possible. "Hello."

No one answered, and he gulped loudly before putting his wand back in his holster, just in case the two from the back decided to take a look at him. After a moment of staying still, he began walking again.

The one in the front would be the first one to make a move, alerting the two from behind to come out to surround him. Otherwise, the formation would be useless, and the three would've come from one side since the beginning. So, when Harry saw the first shape moving, its footsteps loud and clear for the whole hallway to hear, he made his move.

He spun around, summoning his wand from the holster as he got to his knees and aimed at the guy on the left. "Reducto!" The seventh-year, who he now recognised as Pucey, fell to the ground, crying out in pain as he held on to his shattered knee. Harry could see as blood squirted from the wound, a piece of bone bent backwards and sticking out completely. Pucey's pitiful cries and whimpers filled the hallway as the other looked at him in shock.

But as he remembered a similar night to this one, one where he was the one making crying out in pain - any sense of pity or shame left Harry completely.

He took advantage of the shock and fear in the others, aiming his wand at Rowle. "Diffindo! Stupefy!"

The severing charm tore through his clothes, leaving a large gash on his right arm as he lost his grip and the wand clattered on the ground. But before he could cry out in pain, Harry's stunning charm sent him flying across the hall, powerful enough that he crashed against one of the suits of armour.

Knowing that this attack would break Warrington from his shocked state, he quickly turned around. The seventh-year had his wand trained on him, an enraged expression on his face as he tried to hide his fear. Everything was suddenly incredibly slow. He could feel as his body fully turned around, his wand raising directly at Warrington as the older boy opened his mouth, his wand shaking in his hand.

"AVADA-"

"CONFRINGO!"

The fiery orange blaze crossed the hallway before Warrington could even finish uttering the killing curse. It struck him directly on his legs, his robes catching fire as he was violently thrown back so far he hit one of the torches on the wall before crashing against the floor. He began rolling in the ground, trying to extinguish the fire that was burning the lower part of his robes.

The lion inside him roared in anger as he realised what curse had almost left Warrington's mouth. He began walking towards him, gripping his wand so hard he thought it might break.

"REDUCTO! REDUCTO!"

Warrington cried out in pain as each curse hit a thigh, respectively. There was no blood, no bone sticking out, but Harry was sure both of his upper leg bones were completely shattered.

"REDUCTO!"

He hit his pelvis, the sound of it cracking was music to his ears. But it wasn't enough, he needed more, he wanted more. He wished he could cast other curses, wished he could obliterate him like any of the other dummies he had throughout his life. But Harry wasn't stupid enough to kill a student, not while under the wards at Hogwarts, and he wasn't stupid enough to use one of the unforgivable curses either.

Any other spell would kill him for sure, even a well place reductor curse would do that, so he would have to make it count.

"REDUCTO! REDUCTO!"

Both of his elbows snapped off immediately, bones sticking out of them as he finally began to bleed. Warrington's blood-curdling screams would be horrifying to anyone passing, but not to him.

He could feel his rage taking over, the rage he had felt ever since that Halloween, the rage he had kept inside for years, as he was forced to become as cold as ruthless as the other to survive, as his last connection to his family was taken, ripped away from him by the person he had slowly grown to hate more than Voldemort himself, the rage he'd managed to oppress for years, only letting it out whenever he destroyed the dummies the Room of Requirement created.

But none of that felt even a tenth as good as how this felt. A sick sense of joy inside him forced a grin out of his face as he stared down his cowering enemy. The same one that had been such an integral part of his torment, the one who had made his life miserable for his first two years at the castle, alongside Montague. He was crying, looking more pathetic than he ever felt, and he was the cause of that.

His cries of agony turned into nothing but miserable whimpers, bearing none of the resemblance to the person he had once feared as much as Montague. He had curled himself into a ball, his shaking arms making the bones scratch the floor.

"P-p-pleas-se…" He begged, his voice cracking. "P-p-ple-ease-e."

Harry scoffed. For a second, he felt just like Warrington - just like Montague. It was almost like attacking a first-year, and with the sobs and wails, it wasn't hard to realise that they never stood a chance against him. Maybe if they had actually caught him by surprise, then it could've been a fair fight. But they didn't. And Harry couldn't say he felt any sort of pity for them.

Just the opposite, he wondered why he hadn't done this before.

He stepped on Warrington's leg, eliciting a loud cry that briefly brought him out of his rage induced trance. He was being too loud, it was almost impossible no one had noticed it, and the probability of that only increased with every wail. They were less than a minute away from Snape's office, it was a miracle he hadn't come around to check out the noise yet.

Without turning back, Harry launched a stunning charm that struck Pucey, eliciting a loud banging noise from behind him. He turned his attention on Warrington, casting a silencing charm on him.

He wasn't going to get away that easy.

For a moment, he thought about questioning him, find out who it was that had sent them. But he doubted Warrington could complete two words, much less a sentence. Besides, he didn't need to ask who had sent them. He already knew.

Harry took a look at his watch, there were still thirty minutes before detentions ended, and Umbridge began watching the castle right before she slept. None of the Slytherins should die, though if anyone did, it would probably be Warrington. He wanted to avoid risking it, the last thing he needed was the Aurors coming over to Hogwarts and launching an investigation. It might even allow Umbridge more power than she already has, it could even be the thing that forces Dumbledore out of the school.

So, reluctantly, he conjured an alarm clock. He set it to sound in five minutes before casting a Sonorous charm on it and swiftly leaving the scene.

Harry almost jogged as he made his way to the Slytherin Common Room, but not out of any sense of urgency or fear out of being caught. No, fear was the furthest thing he was feeling right now. As reality had settled in, his ecstasy at the power he held as he finally got back at one of his biggest tormentors had dwindled. It was still there, but the ire at whoever had set up the attack, one that could've easily ended with him six feet under if he hadn't been fast enough, had far surpassed it.

When his fight with Daphne begun, he knew there was a possibility of it getting ugly. But he never thought it would get like this. At most, he expected a few arguments, maybe Malfoy trying to duel him using some basic, harmless spells. But this… she had taken it to another level.

If she wanted a real war, then that's exactly what she would get it.

"Power," Harry snarled the password before strolling into the common room, wand in hand.

The common room was filled to the brim. People playing chess in the desks, people talking near the fireplace, people goofing off on the couches, people reading on the floor. But the moment he stepped inside, all the sound drained from the room as everyone turned to him. His eyes glazed through everyone before finally finding her.

She was in the corner, sitting on a small table with a book open and her sister Astoria beside her. He strutted towards her, fully aware of how everyone began circling them, surrounding him. As he did, she stared at him with confusion, but it lasted for a mere moment before panic settled in. She stood up, placing herself between him and her sister, as the whole room realised that Harry Potter was out for blood.

The last time he had held everyone's attention this way had been so long ago. How things have changed.

"I don't know how much of your daddy's money you promised each of them, Greengrass, but something tells me those three will end up asking for much more. And that's without covering the hospital bills."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Daphne snapped, her eyes seeking help from behind him.

"Harry-"

"Of course you'd play dumb," Harry interrupted Pansy, not even looking at her as he continued. "Doesn't require much acting from you."

"What-"

He let out a cold laugh, more maniacal than amusing, something he noticed scared Daphne and others even more. He'd never acted like this. He'd been an arsehole for the past couple years, snapped at people, rolled his eyes. But never had he taken centre stage, and fully let out everything he wished. He didn't know if it was the adrenaline still in his system, or the power high he had just come out of, but he couldn't contain himself. And he didn't want to.

"Come on, Daphne. Can't we get past the bullshit and just talk? Surely, you must be wondering what happened to your friends. They aren't doing so good, by the way."

"Greengrass had nothing to do with that, Potter." A voice called out from behind him, and for a brief second, Harry flinched. Laughter filled his mind as he recalled that night, as he recalled all the pain and betrayal he had felt. For a moment, he re-experienced everything all over again. But then, the moment passed, and once again, he was the fifteen-year-old who just beat three seventh years in a fight.

"Montague," Harry grinned, turning back to face the man who had haunted his nightmares during his first three years at Hogwarts. "How stupid of me, Greengrass has never had the balls of something so upfront."

Montague smiled, and for a moment, those two little words crossed Harry's mind. "Well, if anyone knows how I operate, it's you. Why don't you come to my dorm; you, me, and Daphne are in big need of a good old talk."

"And let down our admiring audience?" Harry tutted. "Come on, Montague, you've always liked to give a good show."

"You know, I've been trying to be nice. Solve this as easy and quick as possible. But you just like to make things harder on yourself."

"If you think that I'm ever going to sit down with you and solve this your way, you are mistaken, old friend. I could tear you apart in a second without needing my pals to help me."

"Is that so?" Montague laughed.

Harry scoffed before stepping forward. "Why don't you ask Warrington, I'm sure he'll paint a vivid picture."

"Ah, Harry, Harry." Montague shook his head in disappointment, before walking towards him, meeting him half-way. "You're still the same, after all these years. Have you forgotten all I taught you? There are so many more things to winning than just being able to out-duel an opponent, so much that happens before you even lift your wand. Slytherins, true Slytherins, are the ones who know this. But you were never one of us, not really, you're just a scared little cub hanging in a nest of snakes, waiting to be eaten."

"Oh, I don't think I'll ever forget everything you taught me. Trust me, it's ingrained so deep in my head, it would be impossible for it to disappear. This is your warning, your first and last warning, back off. Both of you." Harry turned to Daphne for a second. "Or I'll make what I did to Warrington and the others look like a mercy."

Montague laughed, but his eyes were coldly fixed on his. "You still haven't learned, even after everything, you can't beat me, Harry."

Suddenly, a booming chime rang inside the whole castle. A lot of the Slytherins covered their ears and cowered in fear, some grabbed their wands and looked at where to aim. Even Montague, one of the most unshakable people in the castle, looked around in shock. But not Harry, he continued to stare at his enemy, unflinchingly.

"Why don't you ask your friends?" Harry said in a low voice once the ringing stopped. "See if they agree."

As the entire common room began gathering their bearings, Harry simply turned around and headed to his dormitory. Hoping Montague wouldn't back down.

That's it for today's chapter, hopefully you liked it. It took a while to finish this chapter, I've been binging Cobra Kai for the last two and a half days and haven't written much since I started. If you haven't watched it, you totally should. I may even borrow one or two ideas for the fic, if it fits what I'm going for.

Thank you for continuing reading, favouriting, and commenting! It means a lot to me!