CHAPTER 22: Halloween (Revelations)

Charms Classroom

October 31st, 1991

11:30 a.m.

The morning had passed relatively uneventful. The other Slytherins had been their pleasant selves, but that was nothing new. It had been just over a month before he realised that none of them would ever want to be his friend, and that he could do nothing to stop their sadistic famine that was only satiated when they bullied and teased him. Soon after that, he had begun sticking mostly to himself, staying alone as much as possible. He didn't set a foot on his dormitory until he was sure everyone else had gone to sleep, and he was out of there before the other boys woke up. It wasn't hard to avoid everyone, the castle was huge, and he'd had practice from his time with the Dursleys.

There was only one person inside the castle who he actively sought out. One person who he liked to spend time with, who treated him like he was something else other than last year's rubbish. His only friend and ally, one of the few reasons why he had decided to stay in the castle rather than go back to Privet Drive and try his luck in the muggle world.

Montague.

Graham, he corrected himself. The older boy had chastised him many times for forgetting to address him by his first name. People inside Slytherin were all half-bloods and pure-bloods, and they were proud of it. It wasn't surprising, traditionalism was a defining trait of a Slytherin. Well, at least according to Manufacturing Evil: A Study of Slytherin House by Walburga Black. It was a book in the Slytherin library - a corner in the common room where the walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with old tomes ranging from recent enough to have been made during this past few decades to old enough that it seemed the pages would fall if anyone touched them.

From what Graham had told him, every common room had its own private library with books exclusive to their houses. They were donations, gifts, from alumni of the respective house - charmed against copying charms or even leaving the premises of the common room.

Over half of the books in the Slytherin Library were about subjects seen at Hogwarts - though a slight majority of them were of DADA, Potions, and Ancient Runes. However, there were also books about various magical subjects not seen at Hogwarts: The Mental Arts, Alchemy, and Healing being the most prominent. There were also books on non-magical subjects: Politics, Psychology, Law, History, and other non-fiction subjects that had no magical application. Though Graham had a vested interest in the latter subjects, Harry had no idea why.

Graham had introduced him to the library nearly two weeks ago, and had given him Manufacturing Evil: A Study of Slytherin House as a reading assignment. Fortunately, it hadn't been as ominous as the title suggested. The book was a study of prejudice against Slytherin House throughout the years. A depiction of how, across the centuries, Salazar Slytherin's name - who had been one of the most renowned and revered wizards of his time - had been gradually slandered and anti-Slytherin biases had begun forming as more traditional views held by wizards were beginning to go out of favour within the Wizarding World.

It was mostly boring, in Harry's opinion, but Graham had insisted it was imperative for him to read it.

"Any Slytherin - any true Slytherin - who has any self-respect has read that book. I know it seems dull and unnecessary, I used to think that too. But it will instil within you the traits Salazar valued most - something that has been lost throughout the centuries."

It had seemed important to Graham, so Harry had continued it. However, since Montague seemed more focused on Slytherin's values than anything else - he had mostly skimmed through the history section of the book and focused on the attributes of the house.

There were nearly twenty traits that were repeated various times throughout the book - cleverness, determination, traditionalism, charisma, subtlety, among others. However, there were only six traits mentioned that Salazar himself priced. Cunning, versatility, ambition, self-preservation, resourcefulness, and ruthlessness.

With ruthlessness being one of the defining traits of the house, Harry couldn't help but see why people outside of Slytherin began seeing them in a bad light.

He had finished the book right before his Astronomy class last night, but since Graham had already gone to his dormitory by that point, Harry had decided to hold off until today to tell him. But he hadn't seen him this morning. Graham had been absent from the Great Hall during breakfast - which, granted, wasn't really uncommon for him - and he hadn't bumped into him as he went from class to class.

It didn't matter, he was sure he would see him during lunch. But with today being Halloween, Harry had wanted to spend as much time as possible with Graham rather than been forced to sit on his own in the most ignored corner of whichever room he was.

"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick's cry snapped him out of his revere. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

And indeed she had. A white feather, identical to the one that Flitwick had given out to everyone, was floating five feet above her head and rising. Despite the professor's enthusiasm, the feat was received with a couple of half-hearted claps and disgruntled looks. Not that it seemed to quell Hermione's satisfaction, as she gave Ron a smug smile.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry intoned, causing his feather to shake slightly as it lifted itself a couple of centimetres before floating down. He stared down at it in annoyance. He didn't feel any struggle as he cast the spell, in fact, it felt oddly easy compared to his lacklustre performance. After a brief look at Pansy - who was sitting beside him - and noticing she hadn't managed either, he grabbed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 and began searching for the chapter on the levitation charm. There must've been something he was missing on the theory, or perhaps his incantation was wrong - or his wand movements.

But before he could even find that section in his textbook, he was distracted by the cruel sniggers from the four Slytherins in front of him.

"Look at him," Greengrass laughed. "Look at how hard he's trying, as if today is gonna be any different."

Harry tried to ignore the feeling of his heart clawing its way up his throat, keeping his focus on the book in front of him. It was okay. They didn't matter. Don't pay attention to Malfoy and his goons, they're not worth it.

"Honestly, how pathetic." Malfoy drawled. "And to think everyone considers him to be the Saviour of the Wizarding World."

Harry stopped, repeating the sentence in his head four times before he finally looked upwards. Draco, Theo, Daphne, and Tracey were sitting ahead of him… but they weren't looking at him. They were focused on Neville Longbottom, who sat beside Seamus Finnegan across the room with the other Gryffindors.

"Saviour," Nott snorted. "He's a disgrace - a filthy blood traitor. No wonder he has the same magical capacity as a squib."

"It's not his magical capacity, you dimwits." Pansy scoffed, bringing their attention to the two of them.

"Defending Longbottom, Parkinson?" Theo asked coldly. "I wonder what your father would think about you siding with filth like him."

Pansy smiled. "Not at all, Nott. I'm merely commenting how idiotic your comments are. Surely, you can't be implying that the Dark Lord was defeated by a squib, are you?" Theo flushed, and Pansy's smile gained a predatory edge. "I wonder what your father would think about such accusations."

Nott turned into a blubbering mess, causing Daphne to step in. "So what? Are we supposed to believe that Longbottom is a great wizard? Especially when he hasn't been able to cast a single spell?"

"It's not the wizard you should be focused on, Greengrass, it's the wand. Neville has been the only student in the school who hasn't been able to do a single feat of magic in the past two months. Even Crabbe and Goyle have managed to do so. So, unless the magic at Hogwarts that generates a letter for every student accepted made a massive blunder, he must not be using an appropriate wand."

"But why would it matter if he isn't using a certain wand?" Malfoy scoffed. "He's a wizard. He should be able to make it work if he was powerful enough."

"I don't think you realise just how much power you would need to force a wand that didn't choose you to work for you - in fact, you'd be lucky if a spell didn't rebound against you. Anyone shy of, I don't know, Dumbledore's level of raw power wouldn't be able to make a foreign wand work. And as first years, whose cores have only started to develop a few months ago, it would be ridiculous to think Longbottom could make it work."

"The Dark Lord would be able to make it work." Daphne said pointedly.

"Perhaps," Pansy shrugged non-committally - but Harry got the sense she didn't agree.

In the end, only Parkinson and Hermione had managed to succeed at casting the spell consistently. Harry had managed to do so twice, both times only rising about two feet before plummeting to the ground - though at least he was relieved by the knowledge he was still better than half of the class. Before Professor Flitwick had finished giving out the instructions for their homework, Harry had his book bag slung across his shoulder and his bum hovering right above his chair.

He was the first one out of the classroom, almost sprinting as he made his way to the Great Hall. Harry doubted that Graham would already be there, but it couldn't hurt to check. He had learnt the older boy's schedule over the past few weeks, which is why after confirming that Montague wasn't sitting in the Slytherin table, he waited by the corridor that led to the dungeons where he knew Graham would have to pass to reach the Great Hall.

Minutes went by as Harry impatiently paced in straight lines. Gradually, students began flooding inside the Great Hall, and he was thankful none of the first years noticed him as they went inside. It seemed like hours had passed before Harry grinned as a group of older Slytherins and Hufflepuffs made their way to the Great Hall from where the Potions classroom was located. Harry all but skipped towards them, looking for Graham in the herd of boys, before stopping to a halt.

"Umm... excuse me," Harry whispered shyly.

Most of the Slytherins that passed him sneered, and even some of the Hufflepuffs - who Harry had expected to help him out - ignored him completely.

"Excuse me?" He tried again. "Where's Montague?"

"Montague?" Harry was surprised when a voice spoke up. The third-year Hufflepuff walked towards him. He had dark brown hair, gray eyes, and a smile that would have probably made any girl swoon. "You know him?"

"Yeah, he's my friend. We were supposed to meet up for lunch today. Have you seen him?"

"Yes, he stayed back to talk to his brother." The older boy answered.

"His… brother?"

"Yeah. Fifth year. Ravenclaw. He hasn't talked to you about him?"

"…no." Harry answered lamely.

"Huh. They're really close. Anyway, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you went along with him rather than waiting here on your own. Who knows, you might even get to meet Eli. They're right outside the Potions classroom."

"Thanks! Err…"

"Cedric."

"Harry," he shook the boy's hand.

"I have to go now, but hopefully, we'll see each other around."

"Yeah. Thank you!"

Before Cedric had even turned around, Harry had already left him behind, running across the hallway. He turned a corner and then proceeded to lead down the stairs. He continued at his brisk pace and just as he was about to reach the corner that lead straight to the Potions classroom, Harry heard a loud thud, as if someone had been slammed against the wall.

He stopped still in his tracks, not knowing what to do. Conjuring his inner Gryffindor, Harry stuck himself to the wall, silently nearing the corner where the two brothers were visible. Eli Montague was pinning Graham to the wall with his arm on his neck. The look that Eli was giving, it looked foreign in a boy with blue robes rather than green.

Montague had never told him about his brother - much less than he existed. Perhaps Cedric was wrong, and they weren't close at all. They didn't seem like it at the moment. Did Graham dislike his brother? Was that why he had never introduced Harry to him - or even just talked about him. Now that he thought of it, Harry had never heard him mention any member of his family. Not even during all those times when he had opened up about his own parents.

A part of him wanted to go to Graham's aid, defend him from his abusive brother. But how would Graham react when he realised he had been spying on him? Would he be mad? Would he want to stop being his friend?

No. Of course not. This was Graham he was talking about, not some jerk like Malfoy or Nott.

But what if he was wrong?

He couldn't risk it. His friendship with Graham meant too much to him to risk. But at the same time, he was unable to tear himself away from the scene. And so, to his own shame, he stayed there. Listening intently to the whole conversation.

"Stop playing games with me, Little Brother." Eli spat those words as if it was dirt in his mouth.

"I'm a Slytherin, Big Brother," Graham smirked. "I always play games."

"Well, you're a poor Slytherin at that." Eli said coolly, removing the smirk off Graham's face. "How do your peers feel about hanging out with a filthy blood traitor who's - more importantly - the son of the bastards who tortured and murdered our parents! Or have you forgotten that little fact?"

Harry suddenly felt nauseous. He had to grip the wall so that he wouldn't fall. It was a lie. His parents weren't killers or torturers. His parents were good people, killed by a group of evil people that devoted their lives to a monster. They didn't kill anyone. They didn't torture anyone. He was lying. It was a lie.

"Of course I haven't forgotten," Graham scoffed, shoving away the shoulder that had him pinned against the wall. "And all my peers are frankly pissed with themselves for not having thought of doing what I did first."

"What you're doing?" The Ravenclaw laughed. "You're babysitting a moron who would've been the biggest loser in the school if Neville fucking Longbottom of all people hadn't been such a pathetic excuse for a wizard."

Graham smirked at his brother. "There's a reason why you didn't make it into Slytherin. You're short-sighted, impulsive - all that cleverness and intellect you have is being wasted. But thankfully, father managed to produce a competent heir before his… departure. Has it not occurred to you that I have Harry bloody Potter eating out of my hand, revering me as if I were the next Merlin? Pouring out his heart to me every night about how no one likes him, how his poor pitiful parents were killed, and how his muggle family treated him badly for all his life?" He said in a mocking voice.

"So… you're playing him?"

"Of course I'm playing him, you blithering idiot! Everyone in Slytherin knows that - I'm sure even most of the first-years know that!"

"But why?" Eli huffed. "What's the point of affiliating with a subpar loser at best?"

Graham rolled his eyes. "Seriously? Potter is one of the richest wizards in Britain, the only heir to his house and the Potter Wizengamot seat, and the spawn of the filth that killed our family! I want revenge just as much as you do, brother, but I'm going to take my time with it. I want to break Potter, make him suffer just a shred of what we have suffered. When I betray him, and believe me, I will - it'll be when I have squished every drop of gold and status being the best friend of a Lord of an Ancient and Noble House. It will be when he is so dependent on me, when our friendship is the most important thing of his life, that it would be like if one of his limbs grabbed an axe and chopped itself off."

"You really think you could ever reach that level of trust with the boy? It would take years, perhaps decades."

"I'm a patient person." He sneered. "And I will savour every moment he thinks of me as his friend, every smile he gives me - oblivious to my plans for him."

"Plans for him?"

"Oh, yes, brother," A predatory grin grew in Graham's face. "I have lots of plans for dear old Harry. But not here." Suddenly, he looked at his surroundings cautiously. "Those are private."

"Pffft," Eli laughed, slinging his arm across his brother's shoulder. "As if anyone would even warn the little bastard."

As the two of them began walking in his direction, Harry finally snapped out of his shock. He quickly turned and dashed through the corridor. He was gasping - sobbing for air as he ran, his body felt much heavier than usual, as if a massive ball had set itself in his chest and had been gradually growing as the conversation went on.

Were they chasing him? Had they heard him? Seen him? He didn't know, and he didn't have it in him to turn back and figure it out.

Harry kept up his efforts until he reached the stairs towards the ground floor, but instead of going up, he turned the corner that led towards the kitchens and kept running. He pushed himself as much as he could, he could feel his heart on his throat, as if a knife was cutting it from within. But he couldn't. He could feel himself crying. He could feel as his soul was slowly been drained from his body, leaving him a drained husk.

Spotting a bathroom at the end of the hall, Harry shoved himself inside. He ignored the loud crash of the door against the wall and threw himself into a cubicle, locking himself inside. Slumping down onto the floor, he listened intently. His heart pounding inside his head, it was painful.

They're gonna find me. They heard me. They're looking for me. Please don't let them find me. Please don't let them see me.

But moments passed and nothing happened. It was too good to be true. They heard him. They know he's there. They had to. He was shaking, the lack of any sign of them making him more terrified by the moment. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. Hours turned to days, and days turned to years. Or at least it felt that way. And nothing happened.

They're gone.

But that realisation didn't come with a sigh of relief, it didn't bring him any elation. Once the understanding fully dawned on him, it broke him. The loud sob that he'd been holding back ever since he heard those spiteful words finally broke out. He began crying, bawling, harder than he ever had in his entire life.

Graham. It couldn't be true. It shouldn't be true. He was supposed to be his friend. He told him he was his friend. HE PROMISED! He said he would always be there for him. Told him he would never leave him, would never abandon him. It wasn't true. It wasn't. He must've misheard. He must've been lying to his brother, trying to find an excuse to be his friend. He was lying. He didn't hate him. He didn't hate his parents. He was his friend. He was his friend. He was his friend.

But as he repeated those four words like a mantra, burning them into his brain, images assaulted him. Montague in his dormroom with the rest of his friends, telling stories about how the poor, pitiful Potter missed his dead parents. All of them laughing as Graham told them about the Dursleys and how the pathetic wizard couldn't do anything to defend himself from the mean muggles. Montague sharing looks with all of his friends as Harry followed him around like a lost puppy, begging for love and attention. Mocking him behind his back. Every Slytherin knowing about how it. Were they laughing at him too?

Of course, they were. They always did.

The rage in Harry's system was clouded by the aching hurt tearing his body apart. He gripped the toilet, holding on to it as if it were the only anchor keeping him from spiralling. He was his friend. He was supposed to be his friend. His mentor. The one who promised to always protect him, to always be there for him. It wasn't possible. It wasn't real. He was dreaming. Hallucinating. Making things up. He was becoming paranoid. Graham wouldn't betray him, he would never do that to him.

He was his friend. He was his friend. He was his friend. He was his friend. He was his friend.

Those were the words he was focused on his, the bile rose to his throat and he doubled over onto the toilet. Fire passed through his gullet as he vomited his breakfast, his lunch, his liver and stomach and esophagus itself. Harry sobbed as he looked into the disgusting mess that had splashed into the water.

He was his friend.

The king of false promises is back… with another chapter that doesn't explore the full events of Halloween 1991.

Originally, this was meant to be a long chapter with everything that happened, but since the writing process was being slower than I would want, I felt it would be better not to leave you guys without a chapter this week. So, I decided to split the chapter in two and post this today. Hopefully, I made the right choice by doing that.

This is only the beginning of Harry's descent into his breaking point, even though I do think all of this is still pretty intense, specially for an eleven-year-old kid with no real support anywhere. But things from here will get so much worse and so much explicit than I would want. I think that's why it's taken me such a long time to write these chapters, my muse is somewhat dreading what comes next. Not just because it's a significant scene that I have to nail, but because of the emotional toll it's going to have on me.

What comes next isn't… pretty. And since I want to show the reason Harry is the way he is, I'm not pulling any punches. When I write, I try my best to put myself in the mental and emotional state of the POV character. Feel what they feel so that it translates to the page. Unfortunately, that makes it hard to write sometimes, even if other times it's so satisfying. Sounds a bit dramatic, I know, but it's the closest I can explain my writing process.

Writing the scene where Harry finds out his only friend was betraying him behind his back brought some emotions, and I don't think that will compare to what comes next in levels of intensity. So just bear with me, though I promise, promise, truly promise that in the next chapter you'll finally get the rest of the events of Halloween 1991. At this point, I can't push it back any longer.

In some final news, since I'm so close to reaching 1,000 kudos on ao3, I've decided to open my own discord server! Please, feel free to join using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT

I hope you liked the chapter. Thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! It means the world to me! :)