Hello! Welcome back! I really liked writing this chapter. I liked writing it so much even though it was a busy week, this all just flowed effortlessly. So I really hope that bleeds through and you enjoy it as well!
I also want to reiterate that this fic is like a rework of an existing fic called I'm Still Here on FFnet. I'm writing this because that author hasn't finished theirs and years later, I still can't get it out of my head. So this is like therapy to me. There are similarities-themes and a name-but no outright copying. I do recommend I'm Still Here but like I said, it's not finished and it doesn't seem like it will be(God I hope I'm wrong)
-.-.-.-.-.-.-REVISED 4/3/2023.-.-.-.-.-.-
I had some time and thought I thought I'd do some simple revisions-mostly grammar stuff, but also including changing the narrative from present tense to simple past tense. Hopefully, it's a better read this way.
Snakes Hunt
With Nova perched firmly on his shoulder, Harry entered the Great Hall with Draco by his side. Of the four long dining tables, three were full and active with cheerful students. At the professors' table, the only missing professors were Dumbledore, Snape, and Babbling. The one empty dinner table was already generating plenty of buzz among the other houses. Harry and Draco being the first Slytherins to breakfast was already worthy of drawing every curious eye in the hall, let alone with the inspiring sight of one of magic's most legendary creatures on the shoulder of the heir of one of the most prominent families in magical history.
Harry was certain he was drawing far more attention now than he did as the Boy-Who-Lived. Curious about this timeline's chosen one, he spotted Hardwin and Ron staring at him derisively, seemingly still upset by his house placement or his association with Draco or both. It was worrisome to think of possible scenarios where he would need them to trust him, but they would not capitulate simply because he was wearing Slytherin colors. Ron, in particular, was giving him one of his better stink eyes.
Moving towards the empty Slytherin table, Harry spotted something that almost made him stop. A small paper Quidditch player was charmed to fly around in the air and dive directly into Hermione's bushy hair. He could see the popular students of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor laughing with each sunk player—even Ron. Focused as she was in her large tome, Hermione hardly seemed to pay attention to the obvious bullying. As Luna took each paper player out, though, Hermione seemed to shy deeper into her large book, inciting Harry with the strongest urge to incinerate the paper players along with the dining tables. He managed to restrain himself... but only barely.
Somehow Harry found the strength to ignore it—if only for the time being. He stopped when he reached the Slytherin table and knelt down, as if to pick something up, making Nova flap her wings to readjust herself. She then decided to use Malfoy's shoulder as a stand. He almost seemed honored to have a phoenix use his shoulder until the very moment her sharp claws sank into the soft flesh between his shoulder and neck like a hot knife through butter. Draco had to do everything he could to keep from crying out in agony. Fist in his mouth, he groaned, muffled and in pain, until Nova's talons eventually numbed him to it.
Under the table and hidden, Harry whipped out his wand with a flick of his wrist. It took him no more than a few moments to cast a charm underneath the Slytherin benches. It was a faint line that looked similar to an age line, though it ran the length of the seats instead of in a circle. Standing back up, he noticed a glassy-eyed, red-nosed Draco breathing heavily, looking pained.
"Don't be such a wuss," Harry told Draco, walking past him. Nova instinctively hopped and latched onto Harry's shoulder as he continued, "The pain lasts a second and the punctures heal nearly instantly."
"Only you would think being stabbed by eight sharp claws is normal," he hotly argued as he rubbed the moisture from his eyes. Ignoring the occasional or blatant staring, they took their seats and started filling their plate as Malfoy asked, "What were you doing, anyway? It looked like a charm."
Harry quickly checked his food as he watched Crabbe and Goyle walk in and make their way to them. Smirking, he confirmed, "It is a charm. I placed it under the benches so it would be hard to spot, but it should still work there."
"And it does...?" Draco implored, leaving the question open-ended.
"You'll see," Harry responded.
Crabbe and Goyle were about to take a seat beside Draco. The second their butts touched the wood, a shell cracking noise was heard before deep, surprised groans. The eggs both boys had disillusioned over their heads were crushed and the yolk splattered into their scalp and oozed down their faces. Both boys grunted, startled, and panicked as they stumbled and rushed out of the Great Hall to the laughter of the few lucky enough to see it. Harry smiled genially on the outside, and laughed maniacally on the inside, so much so that his shoulders actually shook in mirth.
'Sirius would have been proud,' he thought.
Nova hopped on the table as Draco asked, "Is the charm to crack any eggs on a persons head?"
"Oh yeah," Harry answered as he returned to checking his breakfast for any trace of tampering. Draco shook his head at the petty prank, but he couldn't help but laugh later on when multiple Slytherins had to rush from the Great Hall with yolk and egg fluid dribbling through their hair and down their faces. He laughed hardest when Pansy ran out of the hall screaming. She must've used two eggs judging by the amount of icky yellow goo cascading down her face. All three houses laughed with each slimed Slytherin—with the exception of Hermione and Luna, Harry noted—and in the end, Harry, Draco, Tracey, Greengrass, and Zabini were the only fourth years who had a full breakfast. The first and second years seemed to have been left out and so stayed to enjoy their breakfast as well.
"How did they get their hands on eggs so fast?" the normally stone-faced Zabini asked with an actual chuckle.
"One of the upper years knows where the kitchen is and went out last night before curfew," Daphne answered with a wide smirk of her own. "He returned with two baskets full of eggs and sold them for a sickle each."
She smiled as she tried to keep from laughing. Harry couldn't help but admit how pretty her smile was and immediately clamped down on that train of thought, eager to ignore what a beautiful face could do to him. Fun was only a byproduct of this prank. What started as an easy joke turned out to have a lot of potential for an immediate goal in mind.
"That was bloody brilliant, Flamel," Tracey called to Harry between laughs.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Davis," Harry innocently said with a knowing smirk. Tracey enjoying the prank was the success he was hoping for. If the Sirius in this timeline was anything like his own, he was confident the Marauder would appreciate a good prank when he heard one. He wasn't completely certain Tracey wouldn't put an egg on her head, so it was a gamble, but she seemed observant enough to understand he was only joking. Harry chose the bonus points a good prank might earn him by impressing Tracey, and if she were to mention it to him via letters, possibly impress Sirius as well. It obviously wasn't enough to land an invitation to the wedding, but it was certainly a good introduction... if this bubbly strawberry-blonde wrote.
"Would someone care to explain why it is Slytherin students are dashing out of here like a cat on fire," Professor McGonagall asked as she walked up to the few fourth years. With the exception of Harry and Draco, the others shut down without showing any of the typical Slytherin attitude—at least more respect than Nott or Pansy.
Draco; however, answered the Gryffindor head of house. "It may only be the start of the year, professor, but I think they might be cracking under the pressure." Ignoring the unladylike snort from Tracey, Draco shook his head in feigned disappointment as he muttered to the deputy headmistress, "Rotten eggs, the lot of them."
McGonagall eyed the snickering group skeptically before handing them each their course schedules. After watching Hermione race from the Great hall with her giant tome in her arms, Harry took a quick glance at his schedule, all the while wondering what could've happened to his best friend to make her run out so fast.
He was dreading having to waste his time in these mind-numbing lessons when Draco snatched his schedule and compared it with his own. "Damn," he said. "I completely forgot to change my courses. You have Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. I'll talk to Snape and have him transfer me."
"Even if you had your daddy's help, Malfoy, there's no way you can transfer into either course with us," Tracey stated with a smirk. Clearly it was going to take more than a couple of jokes to change Tracey's opinion of Draco, if her derisive tone was anything to go by, but Harry needed Draco to be—at least—on respectful terms with her.
Draco's natural inclination was to fire back insults, but he held his tongue, and instead calmly asked, "And why is that?"
"You don't have the prerequisite necessary to take the second level of either Ancient Runes or Arithmancy," Tracey answered him. "The most you can do is transfer into level one classes with the other third years."
"It doesn't matter," Harry told Draco. "They're just classes."
What Harry really wanted to say was that it was a waste of time, no matter what, and the thing that was truly important was the strides they made in bringing Voldemort down. Harry tried to convey that to Draco with his eyes but wasn't sure how well it translated.
"I wouldn't quite put it like that," Tracey told Harry in a lighter tone than she used with Draco. "These are arguably the hardest courses in all of Hogwarts, and Daphne here is the only Slytherin that can compete against Ravenclaw, who for the moment are top of the class. But this is a new year, right Daphne?"
"I'll overtake Granger this year," Greengrass confidently proclaimed. "I heard she's got far more on her mind than studies."
Curious to know more, all Harry said was, "Good luck with that," stands and leaves. Nova flaps her powerful gust-producing wings a couple times to take to the air and rainbow land on his shoulder. Draco stood and followed, wincing at the sight of the legendary creature's talons latching on to Harry.
They had Charms first and Harry entered Flitwick's class with Draco, Tracey, Greengrass, and Zabini behind him. He hadn't expected them to stick so close to him as he walked the familiar halls. With Tracey there, he couldn't exactly tell them to piss off, so he kept quiet. Fortunately, Tracey preferred to talk with Daphne, and Zabini and Draco shared a few words along the way. Harry heard Zabini ask Draco how long he had known 'Ares Flamel,' to which Draco only responded, 'a while.' Harry enjoyed the social isolation all the way to his seat at the front of the class. As Draco took the seat next to him, he again lamented having to waste his time in class.
They waited for the rest of the fourth-year class to fill in with more fourth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Harry smiled internally as many of the Slytherins looked like they had had fresh showers—a positive feeling that didn't last as Hardwin and Ron rushed in before the final bell. They scowled at Harry and Draco as they made their way to the other side of the stadium seating to sit by Seamus and Dean. Harry easily recalled their decapitated heads in his cell as well, but fortunately, he didn't freak out. Grateful to have handled his emotional response better than before, he simply mentally promised to save them and repeated it over and over.
Once class was settled, the gregarious half-goblin professor Filius Flitwick took his place high on his podium to welcome the class, instruct them on the material they would be going over, and what they would be accomplishing for the entirety of the year; summoning, seizing and pulling, banishing, and mending charms. Harry wanted to groan in pain when he realized how far ahead of the fourth-year curriculum he actually was. A slump in Draco's shoulders told Harry the silver-blonde was at least advanced enough to find this equally as trivial.
The instructions wrote themselves on the chalkboard, and Harry hoped the Upper Order enjoyed the sound of chalk to chalkboard while in their classes. Students brought out their wands and followed the written direction while Flitwick moved from student to student to offer guidance and encouragement. Harry flicked his wrist, and his death white wand easily shot into his grasp. Without even voicing the summoning charm, he flicked his wand in the general direction of the floating cushions and felt his magic eagerly respond. One of the many cushions everyone was unsuccessfully calling on zoomed right to his open palm. He caught it in one hand to the complete surprise of everyone—minus Draco—in the room.
"Oh," Flitwick gasps. "Oh! Very good Mr. Flamel! Fifteen points to Slyther-" Flitwick is cut off when Draco summons a cushion to his hand as well, though not as fast. "Oh my, you've certainly been practicing, Mr. Malfoy. Another ten points to Slytherin! And no homework for either of you, I think."
Harry was aware that the class was surprised, but it was Hardwin and Ron's reactions that gave him the most pause. They were clearly unhappy being 'shown up' by Slytherins. Rationally, Harry was primarily concerned because of how he might need them in the future, Hardwin in particular. Since the majority of his future predictions were fluid, and nothing could be completely relied upon, Harry didn't want to get close to them unnecessarily. While it was possible there could be a future scenario where he could use their help, there's a similar chance he might not need them at all. If that was the case, Harry would much rather they enjoy their lives free of this burden.
As Flitwick allowed the students to leave his class, he pondered on the ease by which Ares had performed every summon charm in class. Being the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Flamel had caused an uproar among the magical community as it was, but to also be a highly gifted wizard as well... It had only been the first class, and already, Flitwick could tell the boy was beyond the fourth-year curriculum. Ares would be the talk of the faculty; he was sure of it. Most professors were eager to know where the boy's natural talents lay, and Flitwick was happy to say Charms was a fair bet.
Flitwick also mentally cataloged not only the ease by which Ares had summoned the cushion but also doing so without uttering a syllable. That had been far ahead of even human adults. He had also found it interesting to see Ares use a wrist holster for his wand. That was an item used by official Aurors or professional duelists, not students—or at least none that he'd ever seen.
Flitwick's observations might have been at the behest of Headmaster Dumbledore, but the old headmaster had not been the only one requesting intelligence on the young heir. He might have worked for Magical Britain, but he was still an active national of the Goblin Nation, and as such, had decided that Ares had been high-value enough—intelligence-wise—to be more diligent with his observations. There might be things he would need to keep to himself from both Dumbledore and Ragnok. It might cause him some friction with his superiors, but until he knew what his observation might lead to, he would err on the side of caution.
Exiting the charms class, Harry was grateful he had, at least, earned credit without having to turn in rolls of parchment. Harry, Nova, Draco, and the others had not gotten very far down the hall when Hardwin, Ron, and Seamus rushed ahead, and cut him off. Dean, Lavender, and Parvati followed as well. It wasn't an overly aggressive gesture, but it wasn't friendly either. Tracey and Daphne stood to the side, alert but without aggression. Nott and Zabini squared their shoulders and tensed their necks, ready to attack themselves. Draco was as calm and collected as Harry. Bored expression on Harry's face and unwilling to say the first word, he stood waiting.
"So Ares Flamel, the Slytherin," Hardwin vilely declared. Ron stood by his side staring intently.
Tracey took a step forward before Harry could give a lackluster response. "Leave him alone, Hardwin," she warned. "Don't think I won't tell Aunt Lily you're bothering Flamel."
"She's not your aunt," Hardwin quickly responded. "And tell her what? That I said he was a grass-eating snake? It's hardly an insult to a snake is it?"
"Oh, because you'd feel honored to be called that," Tracey replied sarcastically.
"And snakes don't eat grass," Daphne added with an air of aristocracy. "They hunt prey," she corrected, eying the Gryffindors sternly.
"Oh I'd like ta see ya try, ya trollop," Seamus returned, stepping up to the group of Slytherins.
"Just leave, Tracey," Hardwin stated loudly, though not quite yelling. "I just want to have a quick chat with Flamel, is all." He turned to his mates and indicated with his chin for them to leave. "See? The boys are leaving too." Reluctantly, every Gryffindor except Ron left.
The house divide might be stronger in this timeline than in his own, but Harry cared a lot less then he used to as well. He simply wanted to move along. "It's okay," Harry told his housemates, almost bored. "You can go on ahead."
"Slytherin stand together," Tracey whispered to Harry.
"I won't be long," Harry assured her.
Tracey hesitated but eventually walked away, glaring at Hardwin the entire time. Daphne studied Harry a moment before rushing after Tracey. When Nott and Zabini lingered, Harry calmly told them, "Go on." Ignoring how much it irked him for Death Eater spawn like Nott try and defend him. Harry crossed his arm and waited for his brother to speak.
When the four of them were alone, Hardwin began, as if revolted, "Dumbledore was pretty certain you'd land in Gryffindor. And Dumbledore is always right about everything."
"You have a phoenix for Merlin's sake," Ron exclaims. "Just like Dumbledore. You couldn't belong anywhere more than in Gryffindor."
Hardwin stepped up to Harry, stating, "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, and say you didn't know what you were doing. Malfoy probably got to you first and confused you, and you asked the hat to put you in Slytherin. It was an easy mistake to make."
"Malfoy can be a prat like that," Ron added, glaring at Draco. "As you might've guessed by now."
"So just say the word and I can speak with Headmaster Dumbledore," Hardwin continued. "It might take a bit of doing, but I'm certain we can have you moved into Gryffindor by tonight. Honestly, I'm sure you'll like it a hell of a lot more than being in a pit of slimy snakes."
Neither Hardwin or Ron hid their displeasure towards the calm Draco.
"Why is it that Gryffindors always have the courage to talk no matter how stupid they sound?" Draco genuinely asked Harry. At least his tone was lacking a thick layer of condescension as he continued to tell the two Gryffindors, "You know it takes just as much courage to sit down and shut up, as it does to run your mouth. You should try it."
"Draco," Harry warned, though he would admit, it was slightly amusing. However, insults between houses mean nothing to their overall plan and Harry would like to be on good terms with Hardwin for a number of reasons. "I appreciate the offer, Potter," Harry said, though he felt weird about using his own surname to address someone else. "But the floppy hat everyone seems to take as gospel sorted me into Slytherin, so why shouldn't I stay there?"
With wide eyes of disbelief, Ron hotly answered, "Because Slytherin's are nothing but backstabbing snakes who only care about blood supremacy, wealth, and dark whack-jobs! They supported You-Know-Who for crying out loud! And they're still around, too. You may have seen the Prophet's article about Death Eaters. They're the parents of Slytherins! Are those the kind of wizards you want to surround yourself with? Is that what you're like too?"
"I am who I am," Harry easily answered Ron. "And honestly, as long as I have my own room, it makes no difference what house I'm in," Harry replied.
Hardwin and Ron shared a look of surprise at hearing that before Ron asked, "You have your own room?"
"...You don't?" Harry asked, faking some disbelief. "How many of you share a room?"
"N-Not many," Ron nervously responds. "Just- just two, really."
"That's not bad," Harry pointed out. "I thought you were going to say four or five. I'd go spare being packed to the gills like that; not an ounce of privacy." When the warning chime sounded, Harry states, "Well, we have History next, so..." Harry walked around Ron and Hardwin without another exchange of words.
"I had no idea Gryffindors had to share four or five to a room," Draco said in a low voice, amused. "I'd suffocate for sure."
"It's not bad when you care about every one," Harry returned as they near Binn's snore-fest of a History class. Harry spotted Nott and Zabini waiting for them by the class door, and he still felt weird about it—well, weird as in not feeling the urge to kill them. Being in peaceful standing with future Death Eaters as well as dreading the next few hours recapping goblin rebellions hit a frustrated Harry like a bag of bricks.
He couldn't help but ask Draco, "Is History as bad as I remember?"
"No," Draco casually commented, drawing a curious brow from Harry. "It's a lot worse. I can feel my body shutting down at this very moment. Why?"
Harry sighed loudly. "To hell with that," he asserted, stopping mid stride. "I'm not doing it. I'm far too old for nap time." Harry turned and walked away from the classroom.
"Where are you going?" Draco called, surprised and uncertain about following him or not. He looked from Nott, who spread his arms wide, as if to ask 'what's the hold up?' Harry was nearly to the stairs when Draco caught up and asked again, "Where are we going?"
Looking around to the portraits lining the walls and seeing them for the chatty eavesdroppers that they were, Harry nonverbally casted a privacy charm around the pair. "Room of Requirement," he whispered. "For the diadem." He would've taken possession of Ravenclaw's Diadem last night but warding the first year rooms took all night.
"What about class?" Draco asked. "It'll only get worse if you keep getting detention for ditching."
"I don't care about detention," Harry returned as they reached the seventh floor, left corridor. "Killing that dark wanker isn't some silly side project that'll be done when we have free time around classes, Draco. I'll put up with a lot, but Binns is probably the most useless professor in Hogwarts, and that's time better spent on things that actually matter."
Draco didn't utter a word of protest since he completely agreed. They reached the secret entrance opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and Harry walked past the entrance three times while thinking of the Room of Hidden Things. When a door materialized, Harry and Draco stepped inside to an impossibly large room exactly as they remembered it. It was a large expanse filled with mountains of random and obscure items. Harry walked over to where he recalled the Diadem was, by the chipped bust of some old ugly warlock. When he found the old discolored tiara, he removed the thin chain from around his neck, enlarged his trunk, and proceeded to disarm its many security precautions and traps. After fetching the lead box within, Harry floated the diadem inside and sealed it.
Draco pointed his wand out to the piles of items and called, "Accio wrist wand holster!" Sensing his magic finding purchase somewhere in the room, clacking and banging of pushed or falling objects sound off before a pink leather wrist holster zipped into his hand. Harry laughed at Draco's dejected frown.
"Pretty," Harry taunted.
With an annoyed look, Draco slowly rolled up his sleeve to don the accessory.
"At least examine it for dark curses before you put your pink holster on," Harry humorously told the blond as he put his silver chain back around his neck. "I'm sure you'd rather keep your hand." A slightly embarrassed Draco examined the wrist holster, while Harry—with the lead box in hand—said, "Meet me inside the second floor girl's bathroom."
"Why? Where are you going," Draco questioned, still running diagnostic charms on the wrist holster.
"Nova," was all Harry said before flaming away in a bright flash of fire.
Shaking his head, Draco sarcastically stated, "Of course his phoenix can apparate. Why wouldn't it?"
Harry flamed into the living area of the Flamel's London whitestone townhouse. Certain the wards would alert Nicolas and Perenelle of his arrival, Harry walked down to the basement toward the Fidelius charmed armoire. He navigated through the numerous security checks successfully until he could finally open the double doors, and place the lead box next to the other two.
"Three down, four to go," Nicolas called from behind Harry, as he and Perenelle descended the stairs.
"Maybe not," Harry stated after he closed the armoire. Walking up to them, he added, "We either caught a lucky break—which I don't believe for a second—or we know far less than we should."
Both Flamels look closely at his Slytherin house colors of Harry's robes and are hit with surprise. Perenelle couldn't help but say, "You mean like learning that our heir is a Slytherin?"
Harry sighed, dropping his head with some frustration. He implored, "Please, I don't want to hear about house loyalties. They're just colors, and quite frankly, mean nothing in the face of killing Voldemort."
Perenelle had the decency to look sheepish a moment before smiling and agreeing. "Yes, of course. You're right. I just... I've never liked that chronic peeper. There are multiple reasons why his animagus was a snake. Quite the pervert, that one."
"Can you blame the wizard for knowing beauty when he sees it," Nicolas suavely commented, eying her flirtatiously, giving her a loving kiss on the cheek.
"Oh, you charmer," Perenelle smiled with brighter cheeks. "But also, yes! I can. Beauty isn't without its thorns, and if I had caught him, I'd have cut his balls off."
Harry didn't feel any reaction he had to these comments would be acceptable, so continued by explaining to his surrogate parents why he was in Slytherin colors, and more specifically, what the sorting hat told him. "So either there's one less Horcrux out there, or there's one running around somewhere."
"To know more about what happened that night…" Perenelle began, but trailed off. "Well, it's not something we'll be able to learn about in a book, is it?"
"Very true," Nicolas said, scratching his bearded chin. "If we want to know for certain what atrocity transpired that night, we have little option but to ask the only adult alive who was in a position to witness anything."
'Lily Potter,' Harry mentally answered what they were all thinking.
She was the only person on that fateful night who could shed some light on what might have happened. It was possible she might have told Dumbledore, but Harry didn't think for one second he would get a straight answer from the old manipulator without some sort of exchange. It was odd to think she might be a point of focus in his future plans to kill Voldemort. He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach at the idea of talking to his mother—a thing that was impossible in his timeline without the resurrection stone. So far, in this timeline, he had only seen her from a distance, and already that was a challenge for his occlumancy to withhold a magically charged emotional outburst. He couldn't be sure how he was going to talk to her, or even if he could.
"This might be wonderful news for Hardwin," Perenelle pointed out. "If he doesn't have the Horcrux in his forehead, that's one less concern to worry about."
"Yeah," Harry muttered. Shaking his head of nervous thoughts, he stood up to leave and Nova flew from her stand by the wall to his shoulder. "I have to get going. I have to meet Ferret at the Chamber of Secrets."
"Well, actually," Nicolas interjected, halting Harry's exit. "I was hoping to speak with you a little longer."
"What about?" Harry asked, turning to the older man.
"Perenelle and I have been discussing the plans we've all come up with thus far, as well as future probabilities, and we felt we could be doing more," Nicolas began, taking his wife's hand. "Aside from maintaining your cover, there isn't anything significant we can help you with. It's not unlike what you must feel like, sitting in class when you know there's more important work to be done. It's quite unsettling, to say the least. Only in your case, being in class is assisting by being in the best possible position to strike. Perenelle and I; however, are now on the outskirts with little else to contribute. We thought we'd bring it up with you and ask if there was some other way we could help stop this madman?"
Harry took a moment to consider their plight. After experiencing charms class, he could easily understand how difficult it must have been to sit idle when there was plenty more that needed to be done. Harry had always had a single-minded focus, unable to concentrate on anything else until the largest problem was resolved. Hermione and Ron were usually the ones to remind him to be patient. They kept him from slipping into obsession, and now all he had was Draco, which was a depressing thought.
Harry considered what he might have needed help with and told the couple, "There might be a few things. The first is getting access to Black Manor. With the majority of the Black family residing there, it's the most likely place for the locket to be. I'm working on my own way of getting in, but it never hurts to have an alternative."
"Since it's an ancestral home, an invitation would be the easiest way in," Nicolas finished in understanding. "We'll have to return to the public eye, but-"
"-But that was the plan since the beginning," Perenelle finished for him with a gentle smile. She turned to Harry. "We'll find a way to make introductions. There are several customs in etiquette and forms of conduct among the high society that can assist us."
"You should know, Sirius isn't your typical high-born," Harry informed them. "He doesn't care about status or privilege. He... he's made of tougher stuff, you know; bravery, kindness, loyalty. And he loves pranking people." Harry took a moment to pull himself away from that train of sentimental thought. "He's different, is all I mean to say," he quietly shared.
"We'll keep that in mind," Perenelle responded in understanding.
Nicolas cleared his throat before asking, "You mentioned a few objectives?"
"Huh," Harry abruptly asked before recalling the second point he wanted to bring up with them. Thinking about his Godfather distracted him with images of good times and the best moments of his childhood. "Oh, yeah, um... I need a note from you giving me permission to skip History of Magic."
"Why on earth would you ever want to avoid that course?" Nicolas cried, barely believing Harry would avoid that, of all the courses to pick.
"And ask us," Perenelle added. "Two of the leading first-hand figures in much of history, known or otherwise. Learning history is important for your own personal history."
"Significant events, people, developments, and achievements in the past aid us in the present, and help avoid making horrific mistakes wherever possible," Nicolas dovetailed. "Not learning the history of magic is simply wrong, and I cannot in good conscience deprive you of its merits."
Harry was hardly fazed by their passionate outcry when he responded, "I don't have a problem learning the history of magic, if that was actually what was happening. Having already been through professor Cuthbert Binns' History of Magic class, I can tell you both we learn nowhere near that type of knowledge. He's been teaching there so long, he's literally a ghost who doesn't know he's died. And for years, all he ever drones on about is Goblin Rebellions and Giant Wars. I've learned more about magic's most prominent pioneers outside of that class. It doesn't help that Binns—bless his ghost heart—is the most boring professor ever to teach wizard-kind. His wheezy, monotone voice will cause severe drowsiness within ten minutes of hearing it, five in warm weather. His class is commonly considered nap time, and I just don't have it in me to waste a minute of my time that way. I just don't."
"That can not be," Nicolas gasped like a hurt puppy. "That sounds ghastly! Could you possibly be overstating a bit?"
"I'll give you a memory if you want, but overestimating? Not even a little," Harry reiterated in a serious tone. "I'm sorry. I can understand how you feel, but I do need that note. Otherwise I'll be skipping detention along with class, and who knows how long I can keep that up before it becomes a problem."
With a stiff nod, Nicolas slowly exited the room to his desk to write out the letter of exemption while Perenelle stayed with Harry. "So, how's school?" she asked half out of humor and half out of curiosity.
"It's fine," he simply answered with some trepidation. When he traveled to the past, he never considered going back to school again, much less talking to a caring guardian about it. Though he could imagine Hermione being absolutely thrilled by that prospect.
"Oh come now, Harry," Perenelle returned jovially. "It must mean a lot to you to see your friends alive and well. Add to that, you now have a mother and a brother you have a chance to know. This has to mean more to you than, 'it's fine.'"
"...I-" Harry sighed. It was uncomfortable discussing this, not that he felt Perenelle was prying or being uncivil. He just had such a hard time keeping his tender and fickle emotions in check as it was. Harry knew he had to hold his emotions back and, whether it was good for him or not, he couldn't exactly talk it out with his mother, brother, or best friends. How could it help if they had no idea what they meant to him? Keeping them at a distance was simply the best emotional strategy for him at the moment, if not the most appropriate.
"I'd rather not talk about that," he eventually said.
"Well, for what it's worth, I think you should," Perenelle warmly said. "It would be good for you in ways you've yet to realize and if you ever feel like you need to, even if just to decompress, I'll always be here to listen." Harry could easily see in her unwavering eyes how much she meant it. Harry only nodded his appreciation, hoping to leave it there. After a moment, though, she easily tacked on, "And just so you know, I won't judge you in the slightest if you crave a bit of aggressive cuddling with a lady friend."
Harry coughed, eyes widened at her insinuation as he replied, "Wha- what?"
"'Moistening the Pope,' is what the kids called it a few hundred years ago," she informed him as a matter-of-factly.
"Perenelle! I don't-" he began, licking his suddenly dry lips. "It's not what I- This isn't a very-"
"Oh come now, Harry," Perenelle waved her hand at his shock as being silly. "We're old souls able to discuss mature topics, aren't we? Despite your mental maturity, your body is young, and I can't begrudge you your urges. It only makes sense you'll want to have your bean waxed every now and again."
"Oh~kay, P-Perenelle," Harry stammered uncomfortably, red-cheeked. "We really- In fact, I insist- We don't have to talk about this, at all! I'm not- I won't be- This isn't a thing. It isn't an issue." Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"I just want you to know I think it's fine if you do, that's all," Perenelle said, holding her need to smile down to a stern smirk. After a moment of silence, when Harry was certain the subject was dropped, Perenelle couldn't help but add, "Just make sure he or she is on the older side of young. Even a professor would be more than fine-"
"Oh, for crying out-" Harry called, quickly moving to the door. "I'm going to see what's taking Nicolas so long. Take care, Perenelle."
"Don't forget to write!" she happily called as Harry exited. After finding Nicolas, he bit the man farewell and flamed back to Hogwarts. Having never shown Nova the girl's lavatory on the second floor, Harry flamed into his room in Slytherin. It was private so no one and nothing would see him. Exiting his room, he found most of the Upper Order having a lye about in the center chairs and couch before the fireplace, seemingly recovering.
When they spotted him exiting the fourth year corridor, Khan and a few of his cronies, Boyle and Yaroslav, if Harry remembered properly, met him before he could exit. "You're suppose to be in class, Flamel. How did you get in here?"
"I used this sophisticated device called a door," Harry mockingly replied, obviously agitating Khan. "Really innovative stuff, that. They're everywhere too."
Khan immediately took an intimidating step toward Harry, but no more when Nova spread her wings and aggressively crowed at a very high pitch, halting Khan's advance. The large, meaty seventh year tried ignoring the agitated phoenix with little success. Though, he still stated with as much gravitas as he could, "You will apologize- no! No, I want you to gravel, instead. I like that better. Tonight. In front of everyone. You're going to be the first example of the year, Flamel. Congratulations." He tried to glare fierce intimidation—or what he thought was intimidation—but to Harry, it might as well have been a puppy whining for treats. "Remember, I did warn you."
"He couldn't even last a day," Boyle remarked with a loathsome chuckle.
Khan moved out of Harry's way, still glaring him down as Yaroslav stated, "Every year, there's always one, tho in'it? He'll learn after tonight though, won't he."
Harry ignored them as he moved toward the exit of the Slytherin common room. Khan shouted as he left, "Don't even think about crying to a teacher! It won't help!"
Harry put it out of his mind the moment he left the dungeons. It wasn't long until he was walking into the girl's lavatory on the second floor.
"Where the bloody hell have you been!" Draco yelled, clearly upset. "It's been ages!"
"It's barely been half an hour," Harry easily returned. "Binns' class isn't even done."
"Well, you didn't tell me anything before you apparated... I didn't even know you could-" Draco was interrupted by a stern frown from Harry.
"Do you remember what I told you about talking," an aggravated Harry told the impatient blond.
"I can't say that I've ever seen a lover's spat between boys," Moaning Myrtle bemoaned, appearing out of her toilet. "OH! I wouldn't mind seeing you two make-up right here, if you want to. Please, want to. I can totally tell who's on the top," she said looking at a wide-eyed Harry.
Draco made a choking noise and Harry completely understood the sentiment, though he hid it better. "No," Harry started. "No... lover's spat, here. I'm actually doing some investigating, and I was hoping you could help me, Ms. Warren. Myrtle Warren, right? That's you?"
"It is," She sang with a gleeful smile. "Though everyone just calls me Moaning Myrtle. And you are?"
"I'm Ares Flamel."
"Ares Flamel?" Myrtle slowly repeated. "You're all the talk among the other ghosts. You're quite handsome, even with the scars; no, especially with the scars. You must be soo dangerous!" She playfully nudged up against Harry and tried to touch the scars on his face. "Will you tell me how you got them?"
"Uh, maybe later," Harry answers. "Will you help me first? With my investigation."
"What sort of investigation?" Myrtle asked, flying higher, keeping suspicious eyes on him. "Are you here to learn who makes fun of me? Because I have several leads. I don't know their names, but I know what they look like. I haunt all of them whenever I can."
"Them?" Draco asked the wailing ghost.
"Oh, yes," Myrtle expressed as she cozied up to Draco, gently moving her translucent hands down his clean face to his chest. Draco moved away as best he could while Myrtle continued. "At least a dozen! These girls can be so mean. Vicious little pixies! And I'm not the only attractive girl they've painfully accosted to tears. I haunt them for the sake of others!"
"Myrtle," Harry interrupted. "I'm actually here about something very specific. You see, I've heard about your death day, and I thought I could help." Moaning Myrtle looked ready to cry at the mention of her death day, so Harry quickly continued. "I know what happened to you was terrible, and I'm here because I don't want it to happen again... to anyone."
"How can you?" Myrtle exclaimed nearly at a sob. "I don't even know how it happened. It was all so quick. All I saw were large yellow orbs, then nothing. I died!"
"I thought so," Harry stated. "Would you mind telling me what happened two years ago? Weren't other students being injured then as well?"
"Why do you want to know about two years ago when you can stop these nasty girls now?"
"I think there's a beast here," Harry told her. "A very terrible beast that needs to be stopped. I think this terrible beast hurt you as well."
"Would you really stop this... beast?" she weakly asked, surprised anyone would stand up for her.
"I will," Harry sternly answered. "But can you tell me how many people have been through your bathroom? To that wall there, by the sink?"
"I couldn't say why, but I don't see all that many witches use this lavatory. Every once in a while, the mean girls come in and bully the other girls into doing heinous things... Mnn, oh, there have been boys as well... I've seen Headmaster Dumbledore here not too long ago. He said hello to me!" Myrtle squeals in delight.
"Can you tell me about Headmaster Dumbledore?" Harry asked earnestly.
"Oh, well, I flew through his robes once," she says. "You wouldn't believe how long his pubic hair-"
"Myrtle," Harry interrupted at the same time Draco snorted in laughter. "I meant did he do anything while he was here?"
"Mnnnn, no," Myrtle commented bored. "He looked over that wall you pointed to with his wand for five minutes. He said hello, but rather than pay more attention to me, he only had eyes for some book, then he left!"
With a flick of his wrist, Harry's wand was in hand and he was examining the wall for any wards Dumbledore might've put up. Sure enough Harry found a simple detain and alert ward underneath the sink, near the serpent engraving. Harry stood and returned to the deviant ghost. "Myrtle, would you mind keeping this a secret between us? This might be dangerous, and I don't want to get in trouble for trying to stop the beast."
"Why ever would you get in trouble for that?" Myrtle asked earnestly. "You would be a hero! ...a handsome hero."
Ignoring the admiration, he answered, "Some people might not see it that way, since I'm young. And a real hero shouldn't have to boast about his good deeds, don't you think?"
"Well," she cood affectionately, floating closer to Harry. "I wouldn't mind at all, actually. Not. One. Bit!" Her voice was high and suggestive as she popped each word; slightly alarming Harry. "As long as you wouldn't mind 'making-up' with your... delicate boy friend right here." She blew a fish-lips kiss to a horrified Draco, who dodged the imaginary affection. "Don't be afraid to be rough," Myrtle suggested to Harry with wide and feral eyes.
Taking a single second to think of alternate counterarguments was apparently unacceptably long for Draco, who yelled out, "No! That is not happening! I'd rather you tell the entire miserable castle!"
"Well, I don't want that," Harry pointedly eyed Draco, easily reminding him about his oath. The blond scion scowled and crossed his arm, shaking his head but saying nothing else. "And Myrtle, you don't want us 'making-up' either." The feral grin dropping from her face, Myrtle looked suspiciously at Harry before he continued. "What you really want is help stopping the bullies from picking on you."
"I don't mind them picking on me," she answered easily. She looked at Draco lavishly before saying, "Not if I get to see this in exchange." The way she licked her lips was disturbing to both boys, Harry just hid it better than Draco.
"Maybe not," Harry continued. "But what about the other girls who are being picked on? You said they cry and have bad things happen to them. You fight for these girls, don't you?" Harry asked innocently and Draco caught on to his train of thought.
"What kind of bad things have you seen happen to them?" Draco asked, trying to get Myrtle to think about the bullied girls' suffering. He tried to engage the ghost girl to take some culpability and forget all about trying to force him to make-out with another boy, asking, "Is it really bad?"
"Well, I suppose you can say some things were bad," she said slowly, as she thought about the victimized girls. "Normally, it's putting antlers on their head, or hooves on their feet, fur all over their body but once, they made these poor girls strip naked!" Harry remembered how his own father bullied Snape—holding him in the air, up down in only his under garments—and though forcing girls to strip is pretty bad, it wasn't terribly hard to believe. "Then towards the end of last year, a few boys found out and made the girls do deplorable acts to them."
"Wait, what?" Harry gasped surprised. "Boys? What boys? What did they do?"
"Mostly silly things, like burning their underwear or making the girls kiss, but once I caught a boy holding one of the girls head to his crotch!" Myrtle admitted remorsefully. "He was calling her a mudblood while making her suck him off! If I hadn't shown up when I did, who knows how much worse it could have been, the poor thing!" Myrtle weeped from the guilt and heartache.
"Myrtle," Harry called, trying to get the weeping girl's attention. "Myrtle, if I stop that from happening will you keep what we do here a secret?"
It took her a moment to regain her composure. Like a call to arms, Myrtle looked determined and nodded. "I will! If you can help those girls, I won't tell a soul you were ever here."
"It's a deal," Harry said. He walked over to the wall, nodding to Draco in a way that said, 'keep talking to Myrtle.' Confident Draco could get all the necessary details, Harry took out his wand and began disassembling the ward. He couldn't say he was expecting this outside of Slytherin. Inside the house, he can understand having to deal with privileged, depraved idiots thinking they could take whatever they wanted, but for them to force themselves on others outside the house as well? Harry was now looking forward to Khan's misguided threat.
"What were their names," Draco asked. "The girls being bullied? Or the ones bullying them?"
"I never heard their names," Myrtle informed Draco. "I only scared the nasty ones away. I don't console the victims. I know the boy who made the witch give him a blowy is in Ravenclaw; the girl too actually. She had bushy hair, and her friend, with dirty blonde hair, was made to watch. Poor thing couldn't stop crying after I scared him away."
Harry was in the middle of the most delicate stage of dismantling the detainment ward when he heard, 'bushy hair.' His magic spiked alongside his rage. The immediate magical surge triggered by hearing how one of his most treasured friends was being defiled, completely destroyed the wards.
"Shit!" Harry cursed, shielding himself from the blinding flash eradicating Dumbledore's wards caused. Split between grilling Myrtle for more details and fleeing the bathroom before Dumbledore arrived, Harry chose flee for now—and murder a Ravenclaw later.
~Open~ Harry commanded the entrance to the chamber. "Draco! In, now!" The urgency in his tone prompted Draco to hurry to the tubes. "Myrtle, I'll keep my promise. Please don't tell anyone we were here!"
"What do you want me to do here, Ares?" Draco asked, looking down the large pipe. "It's a dark deep piiiiiiiiiiiiiii-" He screamed as Harry pushed him in. ~Close~ Harry hissed before jumping in himself.
He heard the entrance close shut behind him, free falling quite leisurely as Nova extended her wings to catch as much air drag as possible. When she sensed the ground approach, a few flaps of her strong wings, and Harry's descent slowed down considerably. Casting Lumos as his feet gently touched down, he found Draco rolling around in pain, gripping his left ankle.
"You okay?" Harry asked.
Draco grunted in pain, scowling at Harry, before he yelled, "What the fuck was that about!"
Harry didn't feel bad about the blond's injury, even slightly, but he didn't feel good either. Rather than feel culpable, his rational mind simply considered how unfavorable it would be if Draco had to run for whatever reason. In a very real way, their shared past, and most of Malfoy's worst deeds, had been erased—though not forgotten. Even if the future was all about positive change, he didn't think he would ever forgive Draco, so he couldn't feel remorseful for the man's pain.
"Look, I didn't intend for you to get hurt, okay. I just, when I heard..." Harry trailed off, recalling Hermione's ordeal from his own timeline. Her anguish, her desperation, agony, torture, rape... days of it, until they finally gave her the mercy of death. "I lost my focus while I was disarming the ward… and destroyed them accidentally. They were a combination of alert and detainment rune schemes. They weren't difficult to bypass but when I heard about... her, what was done, well, we only had moments before Dumbledore showed up. How's your ankle?"
Draco sighed. Harry could easily see the guilt in the boy's eyes and nodded his head. "It feels broken," the blond glumly stated. "Or twisted... I don't know; it hurts."
"I'm not much of a healer," Harry explained. "Oddly enough, the parasite didn't spend much time focusing on the discipline of healing people. Take off your shoe." Instead, Harry conjured an elastic bandage and had it wrapped itself tight around Malfoy's ankle. "That should help. If you want, you can stay here and I'll check for the basilisk on my own."
"No way am I staying here by myself," Draco winced, moving to stand. Harry gripped his arm and helped him to his feet. When Draco put some weight on it, he said, "I think I can manage. Plus, you might need me."
"How would I need you?" Harry genuinely asked. "I still don't even know what you can do."
"I don't know," Draco called out in frustration. "But two wands against a basilisk makes a hell of a lot more sense than going against it alone... if it even makes a difference."
"If the thing is alive, I'll have a better chance facing it alone. The most I'd ask you to do is support; from afar. And don't forget I have Nova," Harry asserted. Nova spread her wings in triumph as he started walking into the outer-chamber. Remembering where Ron and Lockhart were blocked, Harry muttered, "Huh, no cave-in."
Draco looked at the ceiling and asked, "What cave-in?"
"In our time line, when Ron and I were down here, we brought Lockhart."
"That dodgy prat actually came down here?" Draco asked in utter surprise.
"Well, we sort of held him at wand point," Harry admitted. "Anyway, he managed to grab Ron's broken wand and tried to obliviate us, but it backfired, causing a cave-in."
Harry stopped in front a large circular door, and hissed in parseltongue, ~Open~ Draco marveled as a serpent animated itself to slither in a circle around the round frame of the door, unlocking its many locks with a clunking boom. The large door slowly opened wide enough to allow the two to enter the large chamber. Torches flared to life as they passed each column.
At the end of the walkway stood a large statue of Salazar Slytherin with a grand royal chair at its base. Considering there was not a large dead basilisk on the floor in front of it, Harry could assume the basilisk wasn't killed like it was in his timeline, if at all. A heavy atmosphere settled deep into his very bones, and Harry put everything out of his mind, including Hermione's abuse. He saved that rage-inducing revelation for later. At the moment, what they might be facing would require his full attention because, against one of the most dangerous magical creatures in existence, even the smallest distraction could get them severely injured, killed, or petrified.
"Draco," Harry started, thinking of easing the blond into the higher likelihood of danger. "What do you know about Basilisks?"
"A lot," Draco answered as his eyes scanned every trace of their surroundings. "It's Salazar Slytherin's familiar. One of the toughest hides known to wizards; resistant to most, if not all, spells. Its eyes kill with one look, and its lethal venom kills almost anything instantly. All Slytherin boys dream of having one."
Harry chuckled, "Of course, they do. But I doubt they'd want one when it's trying to kill you. You're mostly right. Though Phoenix tears can heal against the poison. It's how I survived being bitten before."
"It's a good thing we have a phoenix, then," Draco commented as they slowly moved closer into the large, ballroom-sized hall.
"Nova's tears won't develop for another year or so," Harry flatly stated. "Malfoy, I want you to understand, I killed this thing in the first place because I was able to use parseltongue to get down here. I'm only a parselmouth because I had the Horcrux. If Hardwin doesn't have the Horcrux, he can't speak parseltongue, he can't get into the Chamber of Secrets, which means chances are high he didn't kill the Basilisk."
Draco let out a long strained sigh. "That has nothing to do with your brother and everything to do with your rotten luck! Ever think about that Potter?" Draco bemoaned frantically, scanning the entire chamber desperately now for the faintest hint of movement; difficult as that is with the flickering shadows of fire-light. "Merlin's balls, I've never met anyone that had this much shite happen to them!"
"Will you shut up," Harry spat low and to the point. He was keeping his eyes on the statue ahead; knowing that was where the monster resided. He was just not sure if the beast knew they were there or not. 'Only one way to find out,' he told himself. "Last chance, Malfoy. You can leave and I'll close the door behind you."
Draco took the briefest of moments to consider being in safety before shaking his head of those thoughts. He would've left if this were his old self. Scared as he was—for his lost son, he'd stay and fulfill his promise. "Let's just get this done," he replied.
"Suit yourself," Harry said, before going into instructions. "Keep your eyes closed until I say otherwise, but if you have to open them, keep them downcast. Look at its shadow if you have to, but never look up, understand?"
"Yeah," Draco answered, gripping his wand tightly and ready. "Do you have a plan?"
"Kind of," Harry admitted with a shrug. "Last time Fawkes showed up with the sorting hat. I was able to pull out a sword from the hat that killed it."
"Wha- That's it?! Another phoenix and a hat is your brilliant plan?!" Draco yelled.
"Merlin's balls, will you stop whining!"
A sudden banging and hiss from the large statue ahead echoed in the large cavernous room. At first Harry thought it was simply hissing until he understood, ~¿whoooooo?~ When he heard the dry scraping of skin against stone, Harry understood that the mouth of Slytherin's Statue was still closed.
~The heir of Slytherin is no more~ Harry hissed to the statue.
~¿Master?~ the king of snakes slowly questioned. ~Noooooo... you dare impersonate Master!~ The large snake banged coils of its large body against the inner space of the statue.
"Master?" Harry repeated curiously to himself when Draco asked, "What? What are you saying? I'm kind of freaking out here!" Harry ignored him and continues in Parseltongue ~I am not your Master Slytherin, but if you do not obey me, you can not survive.~
~A mere insect is no challenge to the king of serpents!~ The large snake hissed back, banging against the confining statue, to the point it creaked. Draco took a step back and Harry could easily hear the stone casing begin to break. ~I will coat my fangs in your blood and feed upon your sinew!~
"Oh, to hell with this," Harry called, whipping out his wand. He turned to Draco and said, "Get behind that last pillar by the entrance. I want you to cast fire charms floating all around the room. If you can cast and control Fiendfyre then use that."
Draco started limping back toward the circular door they first entered as he called back, "I'll stick to Incendio. I could never control fiendfyre," Draco admitted. "What's the plan?"
"I just want you to focus on those fire charms," Harry began. "Keep em going. It can sense body heat and magic so I really want you to heat up this whole room. If you can keep that going without baking us to death, it'll be harder for it to spot us." Recalling an important point, he yelled, "And do not attack it! Against that hide, your magic won't do a thing and I don't want it going after you. I'll shout when I need you to start casting. And for the love of Godric, please remember I only need the heat, not the entire room up in flames."
The basilisk banged its large body against the inside of the statue, and another crack surged down Slytherin's stone figure like lightning. Harry brought up his white wand, pointed it at the statue, and closed his eyes. Regardless of the titan-sized killer serpent desperate to break free, Harry concentrated on a proper state of mind. Always feeling magically on edge, it took less than a moment to submerge himself into that familiar psyche of fierce warfare.
He called upon his magic, and like vehement hemorrhaging, it flowed with greedy urgency as he cast an unbreakable charm on the old, magically rich stone. Harry knew it wouldn't hold. Unlike Rita's animagus form stuck in an unbreakable jar, a Basilisk was far too strong to be held by even his enhanced unbreakable charm. It would fight it with a frenzy. Not to mention the stone itself was imbued with too much natural magic for his charm to work to full effect. The best he could hope for was enough time to set up traps.
"Nova, keep to the air behind the statue. When you get the chance, take out its eyes," Harry loudly commanded his companion to contest the grating banging coming from the statue. With a great cry of spirit, Nova took to the air with her powerful wings, eager to follow through. She was not nearly as old or possibly as experienced as Fawkes, but Harry could feel her courage, and he had great faith in her.
Harry wanted to place a multitude of sticking charms on the floor and wall to slow the beast down as much as he could at several spots when a triangle of stone popped free from the statue, opening a hole. It was not large enough to allow the large snake to escape, but it would not be long now. ~I'm going to enjoy ripping your organs from your mutilated body filthy human!~
Harry saw the great snake trying to forcibly widen the hole with its snout and called, "Malfoy!" Without looking, he could tell Draco was casting a series of fire charms to dance around the perimeter, lighting and warming the room up in firelight.
As the heat rose, he mentally reinforced his balance. Forming the attack plan in mind, he softly spoke, "Aguamenti." Soft as his tone may have been, a torrent of water burst out of his death-white wand with such force that Harry had to hold his wand with both hands to keep control. The magical waterfall spun, twirled, and curved its aquatic force in a few loops before directly smashing into the opening of the statue. The serpent fought and thrashed against his aquatic canon. Similar to water being squeezed out of a plastic bottle, Harry throttled his robust magic to force a stronger, relentless stream of water to flood the interior of the statue's hollow space.
Harry wouldn't have minded if the giant snake had drowned in its flooding container, but he wouldn't have been surprised if it hadn't. It wouldn't exactly be the king of serpents and die by drowning when a weaker water snake would survive. Harry kept the pressure on even when little jets of water shot out of small cracks from all around Slytherin's fracturing statue. It felt like it only took seconds of glutting the statue when the back-burst of water alerted him that there was no space left to fill. Still, he didn't relent and nor did it. In fact, it only fought harder to be freed.
When the demise of Slytherin's stone monument seemed imminent, Harry quickly let up on the water jetting and, without a break in casting, conjured a bright, yellow-white bolt of lightning from the tip of his wand. The powerful electrical bolt struck the water-filled effigy with a thunderclap loud enough to rumble the very stone of the room. The light was much too bright to see if it was an effective attack. The painful screeching of the king of snakes mixed in with the constant crashing pounding of its writhing body against the stone was the only certain way Harry knew his attack was having any effect. Despite the incredible amount of power he was wielding, it didn't feel like his magic was waning much, so he didn't stop.
Until Harry was made to stop.
He was nearly at the point of marveling at the awesome improvement of his magical strength when the snake's thrashing finally exceeded the strength of his unbreakable charm. The statue burst violently, scattering large rock segments and thousands of liters of water in every direction—debris big enough to destroy a few pillars. He barely had a second to avoid a chunk of stone the size of him by rolling to his left, ending his electrical attack and drenching himself in water.
With the water drag, Harry was not quick enough to escape the second fragment of rock the size of his head from striking him in his side, below his right armpit. With a painful grunt, he was knocked back meters. Instinct forced him through the pain into a rolling tumble, reorienting himself and landing on his soaked feet, ready for the next attack. He was pretty sure a few ribs were broken, and his blood was flowing freely, but he ignored that as the large snake erupted out of the statue.
"Anytime now, Fawkes!" Harry yelled, hoping the red phoenix would appear as before. "Sorting Hat!"
Draco's many flames danced and flew through the air without consuming too much of the chamber, but did an effective job of hiding his heat signature. Harry had his eyes downcast, but he could sense Nova springing her attack on the snake's sense of sight. She must've sunk one of her talons into its soft ocular flesh by the sound of its pained cry. Despite the mounting pain and heat, Harry immediately rapid-fired a combination of sticking charms, cutting curses, and maximum blasting curses. The strength of his cutting curse could cut minimally well into its tough scales but no further, and the blasting curse was only enough to keep it off-balance, but that's all Harry needed at the moment.
Attack from above and below.
Harry only needed to keep enough of its attention away from Nova so his phoenix could mutilate its eyes. Harry continued to rapid-fire Bombarda Maximas, Expulsos, Reductos, sticking charms until he heard the meaty splat of a large yellow and bloody eye the size of his head split and rupture on the hard flooded stone floor. He had precious little time to even wonder why Nova felt the need to take out its whole eye when he remembered his instructions—making a mental note to be more specific with his directions in the future. It must've been difficult for Nova if it took her so long just to pull one eye out.
"Nova!" He called and his loyal companion flamed right to him. Despite looking triumphant with her black feathers covered in basilisk blood, she seemed so small as she latched onto his forearm. Looking at her, Harry couldn't help but feel like they were playing a game of fetch. He spared a moment, at most, to tell her, "You don't have to take out the other eye this time. Just injure it badly, then watch out for Draco. Now, fly girl!"
With a loud caw, she spread her wings and flamed—Harry could only guess—by its other eye, as he kept his vision to the ground.
"Focus up, Potter," he muttered to himself, ignoring the flaring pain of his broken ribs. "Or you're going to be the next thing that snake shits."
Sweating and lightheaded, Harry kicked it up a notch by focusing all his curses on a single point on the serpent's body. He layered cutting curses deep into a single point of its scales before trying to dig in deep with a series of Expulsos and Bombardas. His rapid offensive was interrupted by the sticking charms he repeatedly cast to keep it from freely moving to attack him with its tail-end. Not only was it so powerful it broke his best sticking charm in a second, it still swiped at him with its massive body, like a large tidal wave of stone crashing against him. While Nova flamed around its evasive head, trying her best to keep its eye from the phoenix's sharp talons, Harry tried to continue attacking the base of its elevation, gouging out as much tough scale as possible.
Harry found himself dodging the bulk of its body by rolling into some of Draco's flames. He let the flames lick his fire-resistant robes for a moment as he calmly walked out, all the while attacking that single softening spot. Harry knew it was getting tender when it tried to cover the growing weakness with its coiling body. He arched his casting so his series of curses rainbowed with less accuracy against its growing blister. When one of the explosions erupted deepening the wound, greenish-black blood started trickling out along with its pain-filled hissing shriek.
~Call me your Master, and I will let you live!~ Harry hissed, risking a bit of diplomacy, desperate to end it all. Instead, he got an exceedingly fast whip of its tail slam through his impromptu shield and into him. The force was so strong, he was rocketed back twenty-five yards, rolling and skidding to a stop.
~You will never be my Master!~ It hissed.
Already light-headed, he now saw spots and stars in his vision. He could taste copper from the blood rushing down his nose and into his mouth. His lungs hurt when they expanded and his ribs now felt feverish, like superheated metal. He faintly heard Draco shout his name through the ringing in his ears, but more important than that was the dampened high-pitched screech that filled the great hall when Nova sank her talons into the other eye. Harry didn't hesitate to sluggishly look up in time to see Nova flare her entire body in yellowish-white flames.
Harry hesitated, staring at his familiar flaying with her fiery talons tendrils of the yellow eye. Impressed with her evolution despite the situation, his shock didn't last longer than the pain reasserting itself as the dominating impression in his body. Nova ripped slices of its eye off before flaming away to Draco's side. With the room engulfed in dancing flames, heating it beyond bearable, and with both its eyes disabled, it would have a difficult time locating Harry.
~This is your final chance. Submit!~ Harry hissed painfully, realizing he was giving away his location.
The great serpent turned its mutilated head toward Harry's direction upon hearing him. ~There is... no serpent... greater than I... worthy... of the honor... that is loyalty. I shall never... surrender... my Master's side.~
Harry gripped his wand and took a labored step toward the great serpent. He was mildly impressed with its conviction, but that wouldn't stop him from killing it. He understood that unless it pledged its loyalty to him, it would have to die, not only because of the danger it posed to the school students, either now or in the future, but also to harvest its deadly, horcrux-killing venom.
Harry didn't allow it another second of rest and aimed a volley of his deadliest curses at the bloody opening he had created. The giant basilisk slithered toward Harry while attempting to cover its wound. Harry managed to evade a poorly timed strike from the creature's tail. Using the fire for cover, he jogged as quietly as he could while it searched for him. Ignoring the singe and steam of his superheated robes, Harry sent a short burst of blasting curses before moving again. He stopped and cast a barrage of his deadliest curses, then moved on. He managed three critical hits before its tail desperately crushed through a pillar, sending dust and rubble directly at him. Harry shielded against most of it but still got clipped just above his left ankle by a sharp rock. Ignoring the sharp addition of pain, he attempted to flee, but the snake's tail circled him, and the mass of its body quickly wrapped him up.
It tightened its hold on him until the scales were cutting past his robes and into his skin, drawing blood in addition to putting tremendous pressure on his wounds. A moment in the vice grip felt like a lifetime, but he managed to call out, "Nova!"
His majestic bird dove down fast. The second its talon gripped Harry, they flamed away and landed close enough to the large snake's wound with only a moment for Harry to cast the most devilish amount of wildfire into the profusely bleeding wound. It was not fiendfyre he was casting, but it was the closest fire curse he could cast with relative safety at the moment. His body couldn't withstand the demands of casting fiendfyre, and he could hardly hold up against the fire curse he was blasting now. The gigantic snake writhed and shook as its body was incinerated from the inside. Though Harry felt every second like a minute of sheer agony, he didn't relent for an instant until the head of the great beast plummeted to the ground. A few yards away, he felt the head's impact rattle the floor, its tongue slack, and its nostrils motionless.
Though physically tired, his magic felt just as wired, and it took a lot of effort on his part to call an end to the cursed fire. Though the air was foul, made up of blood, fire, burning flesh, and toxic fumes, Harry took precious seconds for quick and painful breaths. When it felt like he was choking, he instantly knew he didn't have long before he either drowned in his blood or passed out from blood loss.
"Take me to Draco," Harry croaked, and no sooner did he finish his sentence, he was beside the blond Slytherin who ended his flame charms.
"Merlin," Draco gasps at the sight of a torn and bloody Harry. "I can't believe you killed a basi-"
"No.. time," Harry managed. Taking hold of Draco's shoulder, Harry stated, "His room."
Harry had never flamed with another person before, but he didn't have the wherewithal to worry about it now. Fortunately, this ability had slightly more to do with Nova, and as she was uninjured, she was completely capable of taking them both to Draco's room. Flaming into the lavish room, Harry dropped to bended knee, and it hurt enough to warn him he might not be able to stand much longer.
Before Draco could say anything, Harry instructed his phoenix in a barely audible voice, "Fla.. mels."
Harry flamed into the foyer of the first floor of the Flamel's whitestone townhouse, landing on his feet this time, but without delay, he dropped hard to his knees. Despite the tremendous pain, he didn't cry out. He simply focused on taking quick shallow breaths until he could feel himself begin to pass out, giving him enough time to think, 'Fucking Fawkes,' before he faded to black.
I meant to post earlier but AO3 wasn't working for a while. Anyway, I hope this update was enjoyable. I know it's been a long day and it'll start to pick up soon. Thank you again for reading and please let me know what you think. Have a great one!