Hello!
I want to thank all the positive, helpful and complimentary comments along with everyone who have left kudos. Thank you. I truly appreciate it, and a special thanks to Katheryn(the author of I'm still here, the fic mine is inspired from).
Without further ado!
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.=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.
What an Enemy Isn't
"Are you okay?" Tracey asked her distracted friend. Both Slytherin girls were sitting for lunch with most of the other fourth years.
"Hmm?" Daphne hummed absentmindedly, as she pulled her eyes from the entrance of the Great Hall to her friend. Daphne recognized the speculative look on her friend's face, and instantly knew the question wasn't just the question. A grand majority see Tracey as little more than a pretty face, but Daphne knew she was a lot sharper than she let on—if only she cared to use her intelligence on anything other than gossip, drama, and status. Recognizing the smirk on the bubbly girl's glossy red lips, she can tell her friend was fishing.
"I'm fine," Daphne answered passively, raising her occlumancy to their normal levels.
"Are you sure?" Tracey cooed, not even attempting to hide her smirk. "You seem awfully distracted. Since History class, right Blaise?" Tracey asked, turning to Zabini.
Familiar with her friend's mischievous tendencies, Daphne easily kept her cool. Tracey had stirred the pot between them so many times, Daphne didn't even think it odd anymore. It wasn't in her nature, nor in her strict upbringing in the Greengrass household, to drop an ally just because they didn't meet all her civil standards. It didn't help that being in Slytherin, she couldn't be too picky, especially when the other options were Pansy Parkinson or the Carrow twins. Moreover, Tracey was a strong ally to have, more so now that she was soon to be Tracey Black, of the Noble and Most Ancient House Black.
Blaise eyed Daphne suspiciously. "I'm not sure," he answered shortly, but Daphne could already see that wasn't exactly true. The tall boy was usually very stoic, admittedly hard to read most of the time, except when it came to her—he wasn't unlike many boys when it came to her. At the moment she could almost sense him analyzing her, recalling evidence and, to her great annoyance, coming up with wild and biased theories.
"You may be fine, but I can tell you who's not going to be," Theodore Nott boasted, rushing in and taking a seat. He moved in close and whispered to them, "Word is Khan's charged Flamel with a Red Order."
"Late as usual, Nott," Tracey chimed in. "We already know."
Nott scowled at Tracey before continuing. "Whatever. I heard Khan's not just going to make an example of Flamel, he wants to break him! Phoenix or not, I wouldn't want to be Flamel right now. It's going to be an intense beating."
"It's not going to end well if his parents hear about it," Zabini added.
"It's not completely surprising," Tracey added. "That disgusting bastard has hated highborns his whole life, and Flamel's practically as high as they come. It's a shame. He's got that rugged good-look and dangerous vibe thing really going for him. I know Daphne agrees. I bet you're extremely upset about this."
As naturally as she could fake, Daphne turned her blank expression enough to see the bubbly, strawberry-blonde's smirk from her peripheral vision. It was an underhanded way of digging closer to whatever truth she thought she knew, but that was how Tracey operated. Nott eyed Daphne's bust like a perverted simpleton, but Blaise seemed to draw into himself at Tracey's comment, giving nothing away. He was so stoic Daphne wondered if he was even breathing.
"The only thing I'm wondering is what might've happened to the Upper Order," Daphne stated, ignoring Tracey's comment. "It's only the start of the year and a lot is going on. I'm just curious."
"About what?" Tracey asked, and Nott leaned closer to have a better listen. "Except for what happened this morning, everything else is pretty normal."
"This morning, certainly, but, there are other events as well," Daphne tentatively stated. "There's a lot to think about. Seemingly random pieces that only appear random."
"Ugh," Tracey bemoaned. "Daphne, stop thinking so much. You need to start taking my advice and have more fun, or you might end up a lonely old spinster with boils and bumps all over your face!"
'All my thinking kept you from wearing an egg on your head, didn't it?' Daphne mentally retorted.
Daphne could sense Tracey checking out of the conversation at that point, but Blaise brought her right back in, asking, "Is Flamel one of those pieces you're thinking a lot about?"
'Jealousy,' Daphne mentally declared and inwardly rolled her eyes. 'The most unattractive quality in a man.'
Daphne could practically feel Tracey salivating at the juicy drama that was beginning to bloom in front of them. When the food appeared before them, Daphne started to fill her plate. For a moment, she considered checking it for any foreign potions or curses, but following Flamel's rather pragmatic lead now seemed ill-considered. She was sure to be on Blaise's radar for a while.
Daphne didn't answer his question, knowing no answer that would dissuade Blaise from thinking what he was already formulating in his mind. While she may have wanted to indulge Tracey as much as she could then to get what she wanted later, this was crossing a line. Daphne ignored them completely and looked down to the second years, quickly spotting her baby sister. As always, her smiling face instantly made her feel better—better about her choices, her burdens, her sacrifices. For her sister, Daphne would do anything.
"Where the hell have you been?" Nott called out when Draco took a seat beside Tracey. Daphne felt her friend shift away from the Malfoy scion. "You skipped Binns! He marked you and Ares absent."
"Where's Flamel?" Tracey asked, looking around the hall.
"Gimme a minute will you?" Draco huffed. "I just sat down."
"Oh, come off it, Draco," Nott scoffed. "We all know you can't wait to lord over us how you're great friends with the heir of house Flamel. We get it. I'm pretty sure half of Slytherin already told their parents the Malfoys are tight with the immortal Flamels. Congratu-fucking-lations, you're untouchable."
"Very good move," Blaise added. "My mother would be impressed, and she's never impressed."
To Daphne's surprise, Draco ignored both Nott and Blaise's praise without even a smirk of self-satisfaction and started filling his plate. The skinny blond flicked his wand out from a wrist holster, just like Flamel did, and checked the food. Although Daphne found it odd he was hiding it with his robe's sleeve, her sharp and observant mind automatically told her he hadn't had a wrist holster that morning. She mentally tallied all these little differences as he checked his food exactly like she had wanted to do.
Once satisfied with his food, the Malfoy scion provided some answers for the group. "Apparently, Ares heard about Binns, so we skipped it. I haven't seen him since we went our separate ways."
Tracey smiled beautifully as she said, "You're so going to get detention, and then you'll be next on Khan's hit list." Draco spotted the comment as weird enough to ask for clarity. Daphne never remembered Draco being sharp enough to spot that open ended comment as Tracey answered, "Khan's called the entire house tonight to execute a Red Order on Flamel."
Draco held in his laughter, and used his occlumancy to school his features.
Unbeknownst to the entire school, Draco had just witnessed Harry bring down a Basilisk nearly by himself with strength of magic on par with Dumbledore, Voldemort or maybe even Merlin. He could remember actually feeling—physically feeling—waves of Harry's magic. With the eerie image of Potter's flaring green eyes in his mind as he waged battle with a Basilisk, Draco had absolutely no worry about a Red Order.
Despite wanting to laugh at the insanity, he was actually more worried about Khan and all of the Upper Order, because if they didn't learn quick enough, he wasn't sure they would survive the week, let alone the year. His only real concern was whether Potter was healing or dying right then. By the end of the battle, the boy-wonder had certainly seen better days.
"A Red Order, huh?" was all Draco said between hearty bites. Using so much magic himself, he was feeling famished. So hungry, in fact, he didn't notice Daphne's elegantly stern eyes soaking in every inference of his calm demeanor, of what he said, and what he didn't say but should have. If he had to, he would face Khan in Harry's place. Not bothered by the threat, Draco only said, "I'll let him know when I see him."
"If he's really your ally, then you better tell him to pay the man off or run," Nott added with a chuckle. "Not that it'll help. Khan's like a rabid dog with a bone. He'll never let it go until he's satisfied."
"Or chokes on it," Draco said easily as he took a moment from eating to regulate their expectations of Ares. "Listen, you guys don't know him well, but don't let it slip your mind for one second that he's been homeschooled most of his life by a great and ancient house. He likely knows magic we've never even heard of, and I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't go well for Khan."
"Sounds like wishful thinking on your part," Zabini stated evenly.
Nott laughed, and said, "Bet all your galleons on the wrong team, Draco. If you don't floo your father, you might as well cut ties with Flamel now."
Daphne snatched this moment to learn more about the biggest mystery she'd come across in a while. If Draco's willing to share, she'd drag out as much information as she could. She asked, "So how well do you know Flamel, Malfoy? Khan is a seventh year. No matter how advanced Flamel may be, he shouldn't have a chance against a seventh year, right?" Daphne eyed the silver-blonde carefully.
The way he was weary of her fed her curiosity all the more as he simply answered, "I know all I need to know." Then he returned to eating. It was clear he wouldn't say more ,and didn't partake in Nott and Tracey's speculation. Daphne turned her gaze to her little sister again, absentmindedly playing out theories in her mind as she subconsciously pondered what it was going to take to save her only sister's life.
—
Draco made his way to Herbology when Harry walked up beside him looking fresh from a recent shower but very tired. He wanted to ask if he was okay, but instead said, "You missed lunch."
"Busy," was his only reply.
If there were any more details to hear about, Potter didn't express them, and Draco knew by now not to discuss their plans out in the open. Instead he told him, "Khan's out to make an example of you tonight. He's put a Red Order out on you."
Twisting his features in confusion, Harry asked, "What the fuck is a Red Order?"
"A Red Order is public shaming to the extreme," Draco began explaining as they traversed the open grounds toward the greenhouses. "In Slytherin, there are unwritten rules everyone has to follow, chief among them is to recognize who's in charge. It's usually just the prefects which is why everyone wants to be prefect, but Khan invited others when he took over, which is why they're called the Upper Order. Knowing you, you either challenged them or tarnished Slytherin's name somehow to their great dissatisfaction, which is only surprising because it's the first day of the year."
"What can I say? I'm an overachiever," Harry stated with a large lack of energy.
"Well, Khan and his are all just itching to congratulate you," Draco sarcastically replied. Harry just shrugged his shoulders, unbothered.
Herbology was almost as Harry remembered, with a few exceptions. He had to ignore more whispers and pointing directed towards him and Nova than when he was the boy-who-lived, and he saw Neville Longbottom in Hufflepuff colors. Harry didn't put much effort into class as they were introduced to Bubotubers, but it was an emotional roller coaster seeing Neville alive and well, talking with Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. It was almost difficult to see the boy happy and healthy compared to what became of him and his family in his timeline.
The Longbottoms were butchered like pigs and fed to pigs, and the memory of the entire event was saved for Harry's viewing pleasure. His occlumency blocked the downward spiral that the memory was sure to be, and Harry had to mentally repeat his mantra for nearly the entire class to stay emotionally sane.
"I'll talk to Snape and see if I can test into fourth-year Runes and Arithmancy," Draco told him before they split up.
Harry was too tired to respond with anything more than a noncommittal grunt. Draco left for Care of Magical Creatures with Crabbe and Goyle flanking either side of the silver-blonde, and Harry turned towards Ancient Runes as he downed another vial of Pepperup Potion Nicolas made especially for him to keep going. He was so badly injured he had to take the Elixir of Life again, which worked best while resting. Although Perenelle healed his broken bones, internal and external bleeding, and his punctured lung, the fact that she did it in an hour without bed rest made him feel more exhausted. It was like running a marathon and then immediately working a full-time job in construction.
Although he should have been resting in bed, he still had Runes, dinner, the Red Order, and most importantly, a Ravenclaw boy to find and kill. Harry hadn't forgotten for a single second what was done to Hermione. He almost didn't need a Pepperup Potion when he thought about what happened to her in this timeline. To think she was supposed to be safe in school, but wasn't, filled him with rage that could last for weeks.
Harry stepped into the stadium-style seating of Ancient Runes and immediately noted that the class was made up of all the fourth-years from every house, with Ravenclaw being the most prominent. Harry identified Greengrass, Davis, Zabini from his house, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff, Eloise Midgen from Gryffindor, and Corner, Boot, Padma Patil, Brocklehurst, Li, Turpin, and Hermione from Ravenclaw. Predictably, Hermione was seated at the very front of the class.
Harry was waved over to the empty seat beside Zabini by Tracey, though Daphne didn't seem to approve. He might have taken it, at the very least for Tracey's sake, but no one was sitting beside Hermione and he couldn't help the great need that swelled up in his chest. She was arranging her materials meticulously, almost obsessively, on her desk and Harry couldn't help but feel her loneliness.
'She shouldn't have suffered like that,' he thought, blaming himself for not being there when she needed him... again. A part of his mind argued it was an irrational response because he wasn't in Hogwarts for some reason when this-Hermione needed him, but he still couldn't shake the crippling guilt.
Harry could remember, clear as day, the way she cried for him in the many memories they forced him to watch. Recognizing the harrowing train of thought for the emotional pitfall that it was, he tore himself away before he lost himself. He couldn't trigger here. The hurt and suffering she went through would only incite maddening rage, and doing nothing to help her now was far too shaming. Until she was safe, he wouldn't be able to think about anything else with the absolute focus necessary.
In another part of his mind, he couldn't help but feel like he owed her. He owed her for her loyalty, her intellect, her suffering, for being a staple of support when he had no one else. She did far more for him than any other witch or wizard he knew. And this might not have anything directly to do with his quest to destroy Voldemort, but her torment, whether at the hands of a dark lord or someone else, was still a wrong he was very eager to right. In a way, this was only an extension of his purpose here. The hard part would be maintaining some boundaries while attempting to open her up and trust him. His approach would take a lot of finesse, with equal parts honesty and omission.
'Why don't you say hello to our friend?' Harry casually told Nova. She trilled and cawed softly, catching the attention of most in the room. She drew all the eyes when she took flight, glided across the room, and landed easily in front of Hermione. She jumped back when Nova landed on her desk, and Harry could see she was a mixture of nervous, delighted, and ruffled. The gust generated blew away some of the materials, but Harry was there to keep them from hitting the ground, using wandless, non-verbal magic to float them back onto her desk exactly as she had them.
"Sorry about that, Ms. Granger," Harry said, trying not to smile at her shocked face, though he couldn't tell if she was more shocked by Nova's appearance or his talent in magic. "She missed you and couldn't wait to say hello."
She quickly veered her gaze from the legendary creature bending her neck, bringing her head down for a pet, to the scarred Slytherin transfer student and back. Ignoring the whispering and chattering of nosy classmates, Harry pointed at the empty seat beside her and asked, "Is this seat taken?"
The question directed at her seemed to bring her voice back, and he wanted to smile, because he could always count on Hermione to want to answer a question. "You can't!" she yelled, then quickly slapped her hand over her mouth, as if she said the dirtiest word. Removing her hand she attempted to clarify. "I only mean to say... you shouldn't. It's not... proper."
"And why's that?" Harry asked, continuing to keep his face as neutral as possible; non threatening, but not overtly friendly either.
Hermione looked from Harry to Nova who took two arching steps closer and trilled affectionately for attention. Even without being a glorified magical creature in all the wizarding world, Nova was still very cute with her dark ruffled feathers and soulful eyes. Curious and respectful as Hermione was, it was impossible for her not to pet Nova's head.
'Nice,' Harry mentally said with an inward smile.
She was so drawn to Nova, Hermione only noticed Harry again after he had taken the seat next to her. She drew in a deep scandalized breath before saying, "Mr. Flamel, I really must insist you take a seat with your housemates. It's the natural way of things."
"And why is that natural?" Harry casually asked. "Because it doesn't feel natural to me. You and Ms. Lovegood were the first people I met with. Nova here really likes you and I've also been told you are the smartest witch in our year. Why wouldn't I want to sit by you?"
Hermione blushed some at the compliment then stopped petting Nova, focusing a more skeptical eye on him. "Is this some sort of cruel jest? Are you attempting to throw me in a bad or prejudicial light?"
Harry evenly answered, "No, but please explain your argument."
Hermione furrowed her brows, concentrating her perceptive eyes on him as if deciphering a coded message. "You're a Slytherin," she whispered.
Harry looked at his uniform before answering, "Yes. Yes, I am. Is that a precursor to attempting to make you look prejudicial?"
"Statistically speaking? It almost guarantees it," Hermione stated. "The best I can hope for from any Slytherin I've ever met is indifference."
Harry couldn't help the displeased reaction that formed on his face. "If that's the best you can hope for, that's actually upsetting to hear."
"Is it really upsetting or is that sarcasm meant to get a laugh at my expense?" Hermione asked, eying him suspiciously. "Because if it is, you'll be disappointed to learn it's already been done and doesn't get quite the laugh it used to."
"Ms. Granger," Harry started, hoping to argue the ineptitude of the sorting system to his favor. "Can I assume the prejudice you're referring to is about house allegiance? The assumption being that simply because I am Slytherin, I can't possibly want to sit by you or even speak to you without ill-intention?" Hermione didn't respond, continuing to eye him suspiciously. Harry continued, "So, should I believe because I'm placed in Slytherin, it must mean that I'm evil? Should I also assume that all Ravenclaw only care about their studies and hate simple people? Or all Hufflepuffs will bend over backwards to help even an enemy because they hate conflict? Or all Gryffindors just want to goof around and break the rules? That seems silly don't you think?"
It only took her a few seconds before she couldn't help but call out, "You're implying I have a faulty argument because I'm affirming the consequent by using that same fallacy!"
Harry allowed a grin to spread across his face, happy to hear hints of his-Hermione's passion for rhetoric, before a simple nod of agreement. When Hermione shook her head with a slight smile, Harry added, "You caught me, Granger. Maybe I am using a faulty argument, but from what I've seen so far, it's hard not to think Hogwart's sorting system adds a thick layer of personality driven conflict among the student body. The reckless glory hounds have their pack. The social-irrelevant nerds assemble in one—no offense. The dark lord worshipers have their congregation, and the tree-hugging virgins have their hovel."
Hermione was surprised by his vulgarity. He only raised his eyebrows in challenge, to which she smiled the smallest of smiles.
Hermione's eyes are light and humorous. Then she returned to petting the happily cooing Nova. "I wouldn't quite put it that way, but to some extent, I'd agree. I've always thought it was a little silly. Adolescence is the most impressionable time for us and our largest opportunity for development throughout our life. What we learn now, we take into adulthood. How is it beneficial for our development if we're placed in a group of singular characteristics and still expected to be well-rounded witches and wizards at the other end?"
"Like a half-finished sculpture still able to be molded any number of ways," Harry stated, getting into the groove of talking with Hermione again. "You don't take an impressionable kid, identify them by one character trait and lock them away with another hundred enablers."
"Exactly," Hermione agreed, eyes wide with excitement. "There are muggle studies that suggest students, or youths in general, need a carefully constructive variety of influences to slowly develop a balanced member of society. It's almost impossible to be anything more than what our experiences form us- to be..."
Hermione trailed off, and turned away from Harry, continuing to pet Nova. Her sudden sullen silence made Harry wonder if this has something to do with how isolated she seemed to be.
"This type of personality based segregation is a good reason to be home-schooled," Harry joked, removing his class materials from his robes inside pocket and enlarging on the desk. "I may not have much experience with people, but I know what a hurting person looks like. It's in the eyes." He heard her breathing hitch slightly. He didn't bring any attention to it, but continued saying, "And trust comes hard to those who've been hurt."
Looking at her, Harry said, "I'm not asking you to trust me right away. I, myself, don't trust easily, so I can't expect that of others. But I do ask you to give me a chance. I'm being sincere when I say I'd like to get to know you better." Neither chocolate nor green eyes broke contact in what felt like a charged moment, until Professor Babbling entered the room in a mad dash; hugging a number of parchments to her bodice. She took several moments to catch her breath as Harry softly added, "Plus, Nova likes you, and she's an excellent judge of character."
He ignored her suspicious eyes as they evaluated him as Babbling arranged her messy parchments on her desk at the center of the room. The parchments with designs on them were then posted on the board behind her and the lovely professor stared out to her students with a wide grin.
"Oh what a wonderful day!" she happily exclaimed. "You, my dearest pupils, will not believe the discovery I've made this morning. It's extraordinary!"
"What is it, professor?" Susan Bones asked the excited Babbling.
"Quite simply some of the best rune arrangement and implementation I've ever seen here in Hogwarts! I wanted to put together a little field assignment for us, but unfortunately the location is an issue that, quite frankly, shouldn't be. As of yet, I've been unable to get permission from the head of house. I'll keep working on that, however. For now, I was able to study it for an hour this morning and through lunch, and made designs of the activated arrays. I should start by asking, what can you tell from these wards... lets see, Terry?"
Hermione was all business for the remainder of the class, ignorant of everything but the joy of learning runes, and Harry was more than fine with that. He paid enough attention to know when he should answer, which seemed like it would be the pattern for all his classes. Like Snape in his timeline, Babbling had asked Harry several more questions than the others. But unlike the slimy git, she asked him 'difficult' questions in a respectful way. Once it had become clear he understood the material, she moved on to the Runes he had used on the first-year dorms.
When class was dismissed, Babbling rushed over to Harry and Hermione. "Mr. Flamel," she called before turning to Nova on her stand. "And hello to you as well."
"Her name is Nova," Harry told Babbling as he bundled his materials and shrank them to pocket size.
"Hello Nova," she said politely. Turning to Harry, she continued, "I just wanted to welcome you to my course and let you know if there's anything I can assist you with, I do have study sessions. Hermione can tell you when and where if you're interested."
"Thank you," Harry replied to the bubbly teacher. "I appreciate it."
"Very good," Babbling said before turning to leave.
"Have you read sixth year material?" Hermione asked as she gathered her things.
"I don't think so," Harry answered honestly. "If there's one thing my parents collected throughout the centuries, it's books. They have a gigantic library of all sorts of knowledge." Harry noticed Hermione's knees wobble and her mouth open to let out a breathy whine noise. He shouldn't tease her like that but he needed to use what he knew to gain her confidence as fast as possible. "So, I've read a lot of books, but I don't know what's considered required text for sixth year. Why do you ask?"
Hermione let out a breathy moan that sounded like, "...librry."
"Excuse me?" Harry asked as if he didn't hear.
Hermione snapped out of it and fumbled to reply, "I- yes. Well, P-Professor Babbling... is very good at recognizing the education level of each student, so she can ask them challenging questions without embarrassing them. I imagine she's been this way since she started teaching a few years ago, but I, of course, only noticed last year. It's quite ingenious when you consider how it promotes learning without the excessive pressure to learn at a fast rate."
"Makes sense," Harry interjected as they exited the class. Harry could easily feel many eyes on him as he walked beside Hermione, and in the back of his mind he was calculating how this could affect befriending Davis; though the probability was good that none of the Slytherins would like him conversing with another house. He ignored the feeling of melancholy that walking beside her sprung up in him to say, "We all learn at different rates. No one method works for all."
"I agree," Hermione affirmed with a touch of exasperation. "It's why Professor Babbling is one of my favorite instructors; it shows how much she really cares. As I was saying, your home-schooling with- with your large..." She shook her head slightly and cleared her throat. Keeping down a short bout of laughter, Harry kept a straight face as she continued. "Your home-schooling explains why you wouldn't know this, but in our third year, out of all of us, she only ever asked Daphne Greengrass and myself fifth and sixth year material questions. I'm certain we're the only two who have read so far ahead, but for her to ask you similar questions must mean she believes you're very knowledgeable on the material."
Exiting the class, a number of Ravenclaw classmates were waiting for them down the hall. Michael Corner and Terry Boot led the way, with Lisa Turpin, Padme Patil, and Brocklehurst trailing behind. Hyper aware of Hermione that he is, Harry noticed her take the slightest step back when Corner stepped up to them. He was clearly the ringleader and his aggression did not go unnoticed by either Harry or Nova. Harry stepped ahead of Hermione, and Nova extended her long dark wings, raising her sharp head and glaring red eyes down at the startled boy.
Corner and his posse took a few steps back as Harry warned, "Careful. She can sense aggression and doesn't like it." Harry was happy to note Zabini, Greengrass, and Davis stood nearby, listening, instead of stepping in and escalating the situation.
"If anyone's being aggressive here, it's you," Corner returned, trying to regain some dignity. Harry had to look up at Corner. While Harry wasn't as tall as the dark-haired Ravenclaw, his facial scars and hawk-sized phoenix more than made up for the height difference. "I'd believe you trained her to do that before I'd believe she can sense aggression."
"You an expert on phoenixes?" Harry asked mildly.
Corner hesitated a moment before stating, "No. But that doesn't mean you're automatically correc-"
"What do you want, Conner," Harry interrupted, ribbing Corner's ego by mistaking his name.
"It's Corner," the boy retorted. "Michael Corner, and I want you to leave our housemate alone," he proclaimed, pointing to a very quiet Hermione. " I don't care if you have a phoenix. Don't think we won't report you to deputy headmistress McGonagall and our Head of House, Professor Flitwick for bullying Ravenclaw."
"What would they do if you told them about Ravenclaw being bullied?" Harry asked just as blandly and evenly as before, but Corner seemed to think he was gaining some advantage.
The misguided boy eagerly replied, "As stated per Hogwart's disciplinary guidelines, any student revealed to harass, abuse, and or otherwise intimidate the safety and well-being of a fellow student can expect a minimum of detention, point demerits, and must issue a public apology, the severity of which will all be determined by faculty based on infraction(s)."
Terry Boot couldn't help but add with a sneer. "Which means—in case you're too shortsighted to see—you'd be made a public fool, laughed at by the entire school and incur the wrath of your very own housemates for losing them possibly hundreds of points."
After a very real yawn, Harry looked to Hermione, who seemed only slightly fearful, but still aware. He rolled his eyes for her benefit before turning back to Corner, and asking, "Is that it?" Listening to this 'blowhole' has exhausted Harry nearly as much as battling the Basilisk. When the boys looked confused, Harry continued, "No physical discipline? No expulsion followed by a call to the Aurors to arrest said bully?" Again, neither boy responded, and Harry took another step forward. "Seems kind of light compared to what I'd do."
"...What would you do?" Susan Bones asked from behind the boys.
"I'd challenge them to an honor duel," Harry answered easily, and Terry snickered for only a moment. "That way I can rip off limbs, shatter bones, blind, maim, or otherwise torture the person who bullied my friend to within an inch of their life, and it'll all be legal."
That wasn't what they were expecting, and his fake scars only added to his credibility. It was a subtle warning Harry hoped they'd pass along to the right abusers, though he doubted it'd have any real or lasting impact on the problem. At least now he can say he tried diplomacy; even if it was indirectly. And when that failed, war.
"You can't do that!" He unexpectedly heard Hermione say before turning to her. Again, she quickly raised her hand to her mouth, seemingly surprised by her own outspokenness. This-Hermione didn't give him the impression she was unapologetic about sharing her opinions in public like his-Hermione is... was. That was just odd, and hard to admit, considering she looked exactly like his best friend. It saddened Harry to see one of Hermione's greatest strengths tyrannized to the point where she looked apologetic just for speaking her mind. Timid chocolate eyes to fierce green ones, it was obvious to him only one of them knew how strong she actually was.
He turned to her and easily replied, "For my friends, I like to think I'd do anything to protect them. Wouldn't you?"
Hermione seemed taken aback, but somehow drew enough strength to return with some conviction, "P-Protecting your friends isn't what you were saying. You were talking about maiming and blinding casually... like it's normal. That's just violence. And- And violence is never the solution."
Harry casted muffliato wandlessly before saying, "Is that what you tell yourself when you see others being hurt, or are terrorized yourself?" Harry's gaze was sharp—too much for her—and Hermione couldn't help looking away. Harry wondered if he had rejuvenated her own traumatic experiences, so with shame, he canceled the privacy charm as everyone was fingering their ears or checking the surroundings for the unidentifiable buzzing noise. "Violence may not be an acceptable solution, but there are times when it's the only one you have."
Again Hermione moved past some invisible barrier of fear to answer him. "If- If violence is your only option... then you haven't thought hard enough for another way." She sped through the end of her sentence fearfully, yet Harry still understood.
"Well then, consider me the last resort," Harry said solely to her. "Because I can guarantee you there are evil men out there you can't reason with, you can't plead with, who are infatuated with chaos. Take care, Granger," he finished before walking through the parting Ravenclaws.
Walking through the stone halls, Harry wondered how much had been overheard by the portraits and how fast they were reporting to Dumbledore. He wasn't happy to be the topic of secret, behind-the-doors discussions; he had always hated attention. He was tired of it as the Boy-Who-Lived and hated it far more now. He would much rather pass through the halls unnoticed, but if that couldn't be an option, then he'd keep most away by using their irrational fear of a ''dangerous'' character. Unfortunately, it wouldn't work for everyone, as Tracey, Greengrass, and Zabini caught up with him on his way outside of the castle.
"What was that?" Tracey bellowed.
Emotionally and physically drained, Harry was completely relying on his occlumency to keep from disregarding her too offensively. It really shouldn't be this hard, but at the moment, he was having a difficult time playing nice. Suddenly he was thankful that the Flamels were endeavoring their approach to the Black wedding. It would be a good safety net if he failed at befriending the shallow strawberry-blonde.
"How do you mean?" he asked mundanely.
"Don't play dumb, Flamel," Zabini stated with some hostility. "You know damn well what you did went against the Order."
Harry mentally filed the tall boy's attitude in his probability bank. Thankfully, Harry didn't hear Greengrass add in her bid for house dominion as he continued through the halls. They all stayed quiet when other groups of chatty students would pass them or stare at Nova until they were outside the stuffy castle in brisk air.
"You sat with the enemy," Tracey dramatically pointed out. "That's the Ravenclaw that Daphne's trying to beat for the number one spot, and in case you didn't know, all Ravenclaw think they're so much smarter than the house of the cunning. For you, a Slytherin and noble heir, to get all cozy with her is an extreme violation. She can't even be bothered to look presentable. Look at her hair for Merlin's sake! It's like a bird's nest on top of withering barn hay."
Harry abruptly stopped and she nearly bumped into him. He turned and said with a bit more edge than he intended, "Let's all save ourselves some time, shall we." 'Keep it civil,' a small voice in his head warned. "I don't give two shits about house superiority. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor; what the fuck does that really mean besides different color ties? We're all still Hogwarts students." Harry felt his voice edge sharpen and his tone deepen. "And it takes a hell of a lot more than where a wizard was born or what house they sleep in to earn my hate. So, no, Ms. Davis. I don't see her as the enemy." Eyes sharp, he frowned fiercely at all three of them. "And if you disagree with me, I don't care. But until any of you are broken and bloody, fighting a madman for your very fucking life, don't presume to tell me what the meaning of an actual enemy is."
Harry spun on his heels, his robes billowing nearly as impressive as Snape's, and he left the three stunned Slytherins to stew.
"How did he ever become a Slytherin," Zabini asked Daphne. Blaise stared intently at her, but she didn't respond to him. Instead, she followed after Harry. Zabini seemed to hesitate a moment before his frustration pushed him to follow Daphne—Tracey was not far behind.
"Did Malfoy tell you about the Red Order?" Daphne asks Harry when she caught up.
Harry ignored her to tell Nova, "Go on girl. I know you're feeling restless."
Nova took her cue and shot into the air with one strong flap of her wings, generating a strong gust that pushed and pulled at their robes and the grass. Harry turned to Daphne, who had to ease and remedy her flustered blonde hair. It was a little jarring how sexy she looks with her disheveled silky blonde locks flowing as it canvased her face. Mentally cursing Perenelle for opening the door to unnecessary thoughts, Harry shook his head and answered, "I don't care."
"If you think Draco or even his father is going to help you get out of this, you're sorely mistaken," Zabini declared with authority. "Even Snape can't help you. Khan doesn't care about status, and in a few hours you're going to learn that." When Harry returned his attention to Nova's flying figure, ignoring the three, Zabini turned to Greengrass, saying, "Let's go Daphne. Home school obviously made him too stupid to understand when he's in danger."
"Or when others are just trying to help him," Tracey added.
Greengrass looked from Harry to Zabini, then at Tracey's gleeful face, obviously enjoying getting Zabini riled up. Daphne wanted to talk more, but with this situation as it was, she decided to just follow Zabini and her friend back to the castle.
"Thank Merlin," Harry sighed. "I thought they'd never leave."
Walking toward the forbidden forest, Harry passed the Durmstrang ship in the Black Lake, then the Beauxbaton Carriage before finally entering the thick tree line. He didn't need to go too deep but far enough he was sure no one would see him.
"Nova," he said, then his partner swooped down to grip his shoulder before they flamed to the Flamel's townhouse. Landing in the study, Harry looked around the warm home and found his pseudo-parents in the kitchen, preparing dinner.
"Ready?" Harry asked Nicolas.
"Really? Now?" Perenelle asked with a bit of a huff.
"Let me get my equipment," Nicolas happily called, looking eager as he rushed out of the kitchen.
Perenelle continued talking with her heir. "You should be resting, Harry. Your body's youth is irrelevant, your mind still needs periodic stretches of rest, especially after doing battle with a Merlin-be-damned Basilisk!"
"I will," Harry told her. "Tonight. Promise. Right now I want to make absolutely sure we have enough basilisk venom to destroy Horcruxes a hundred times over. I hate the idea of going down there days later and learning we can't use any of it."
When Nicolas returned, with a grin on his face, Perenelle continued cooking as she muttered to herself, "I'll never understand... hundreds of years old, and still gets giddy like a loon over the most dangerous things."
They watched her chopping broccoli stems hard enough to cut through into the wood, Nicolas slowly maneuvered Harry away from the upset woman. Once they were in the study, the older man explained, "I find it best to give her a bit of room when she worries."
"That's worried?" Harry asked analytically.
"She hasn't had to worry about me in a long time, and she cares about us both, so it's a little more acute than normal," Nicolas explained as he moved close to flame away. Harry took a moment to realize what the older man said before ignoring it as a slip of casual talk. With Nova on his shoulder, Harry gripped Nicolas' shoulder as he asked, "You're certain, the basilisk is dead?"
"Honestly, I had to get back to class so I didn't check, but I'm fairly sure," Harry answered wearily but truthfully.
Nicolas seemed a little apprehensive, yet still eager to go and they flamed to the Chamber—to the exact spot he and Draco left hours ago. The torches in the room light up on their own, one at a time, slowly revealing the corpse of the giant basilisk.
"Dear merciful Merlin," Nicolas gasped at the sheer size of the enormous serpent. "It's tremendously amazing."
"That wasn't my experience," Harry murmured with a frown, shaking his head.
Careful step by careful step, Harry watched the old man move ever closer to the carcass, his small leather bag in hand. After he reached the head, Harry decided to have a look around the room. Examining the scorched walls, he casually called out, "how long is this going to take?"
The answer he was expecting was not a long, loud hissing that translates to, ~foooooooooood.~
The instant it sunk in that the Basilisk was still alive, Harry sprinted over to the elder, yelling, "Nicolas!"
The older man quickly ran from the giant serpent, and Nova took to the air while Harry whipped his wand out, ready to attack. Harry met Nicolas in the middle of the large hall, and yet he saw no evidence of danger. The large serpent was not moving at all. It still looked very much dead. Harry couldn't understand why he heard the language of the snakes, without a living snake to speak it.
You heard that hissing right?" Harry asked the jumpy man.
"Y-Yes, yes, very much so," he quickly replied, wand in his hand and ready to attack. "All too clearly!"
"Keep your eyes closed, just in case," Harry commanded. Nothing more happened until Harry replied, ~¿If you can hear me, we mean you no harm?~
The sound of slithering quickly filled the room. From around the large carcass, a whitish-blue snake as long as Harry was tall, and as thick as his arm, was slithering towards them fast. Harry was surprised to not only see a baby basilisk, but that he didn't die as a result of seeing its eyes. His mind only processed its eyes seem shut when he heard, the infant snake hiss, ~Master!~
"Uhh," Harry allowed his confusion to slip his lips as the snake used its forked tongue to navigate toward him.
"That sounds far too close, Harry," Nicolas frighteningly called.
Nova landed on Harry's shoulder, and tucked in her wings, which was so surprising, Harry couldn't immediately respond to Nicolas. The fact that she wasn't alert or worried about the large infant snake coiling up his leg excitedly, crying out, ~Master! Master! Master!~ was truly telling.
"Uh, I think it's fine," Harry cautiously said to Nicolas a little too soon. The childish snake was already coiled around Harry's waist nudging at his head with its own, licking him like an affectionate pet, and squeezing his recently healed and exhausted body tighter and tighter.
"What do you mean it's fine?" Nicolas asked aghast, his eyes still closed. "Can I open my eyes or not?"
~Food!~ It hissed as it tried to snatch Nicolas in its jaws. Harry moved away from the older man before the snap of its jaws found meat, and he reprimanded the young snake like he would a child, or dog. ~No! Not food! Bad! No eat!~
The snake tilted its head confused, before recalling Harry as its master and tightening its grip so hard Harry wheezed out, "Nova," and flames a few feet away, though, somehow, with the snake still attached, squeezing him. He was straining against its unbelievable grip hissing to it. ~Down! ...Down snake!~
Taking it upon herself, Nova almost lazily gripped the snake's body in her sharp talons and gathered enough aerial support to pull the snake away, helping Harry wiggle some room to breathe out of his bondage. Surprisingly, the snake didn't attack or bite Nova in any way.
Nicolas dared a peek and was astonished to see Harry wrestling with a large baby snake to be free. He asked, "What is going on?"
"I-" Harry started, using all his exhausted strength to keep himself out of its strong coils. Harry's arms were visibly shaking as he stated, "I... ugh, think it's a... baby basilisk."
"Why are you playing with it?" Nicolas sheepishly asked as it kept hissing and trying to hold Harry.
"Does it bloody look like I'm remotely playing!" Harry bellowed, then hissed back at the snake.
The snake hissed, and Nicolas could tell the sounds had a similar tempo. Then he asked, "What's it saying?"
"It's calling me-" Harry cut himself off, recalling Nicolas' child-like nature to mock and haze. In an attempt to avoid the teasing that was sure to follow, he answered instead, "It thinks I'm its master."
That didn't seem to convince Nicolas; however, as he started grinning, wickedly amused. "It thinks... oh my sweet Merlin, this is wonderful! It thinks you're it's papa!" He laughed.
"Ha, ha, ha, laugh it up," Harry returned to the giddy man. "Just know that I'm also trying to convince it you're not food. So comment at your own peril, yeah?" Nicolas could tell it was a hollow threat, but kept his laughter and comments to himself nonetheless.
In the remaining time before dinner, they learned that the snake seemed to smell the scent of 'parent' on Harry and to some extent, Nova. Recalling the battle, Harry theorized that the poisonous fumes he thought he smelled might have been an imprint of sorts. Harry told the snake he wasn't its master, but it was just too young to understand. They also learned that the diminutive king of serpents had been eating its actual mother, trying as it could to rip off as much of its shredded flesh as possible. Harry had hoped to explore the chamber, but with the infant snake to take care of, couldn't. At least Nicolas collected liters of basilisk venom. The old alchemist lectured Harry non-stop about all the properties of basilisk venom he was looking forward to testing before dropping him off at the townhouse.
"You might as well name him and get it over with," Nicolas said with a chuckle. "I have several suggestions if you're interested."
Harry rolled his eyes and flamed to his room in Slytherin. Walking into the Great Hall, Harry's eyes immediately snapped to Hermione sitting next to Luna towards the end of the Ravenclaw table and apart from her other housemates. Everyone was already eating, but he was so distracted by his bushy-haired friend that he nearly walked towards the Gryffindor table. Taking her own initiative, Nova flew over to Hermione and Luna as he made his way to the empty space beside Draco. He was surrounded by other fourth years, but for the first time, none of them spoke to him about anything. They didn't outright ignore him, but talking seemed prohibited. Draco was the only one to tell him why.
As Harry filled his plate and checked it for foreign substances, Draco told him, "They've all been warned by the Upper Order not to speak to you." He spoke normally, but the other Slytherins were stunned that Draco would violate the Upper Order's decree. Even Crabbe and Goyle seemed overly perplexed.
"Draco," Nott warned the silver-blonde. "They're watching! You don't shut up, they'll add you to the list!"
Harry tilted his head just enough to see the older years glaring at him. He then paid more attention to the way Hermione and Luna were feeding Nova, while the rest of the Ravenclaw looked on with jealousy. He started eating himself and stopped only to say, "It's fine."
Harry didn't know how hungry he was as he stuffed himself, though he noticed Greengrass' baby-blue eyes analyzing him intently. After a moment, Harry turned at her and raised his brows, as if to ask, 'what?' He assumed she would return to talking with Tracey, but she didn't.
After only a moment's pause, Daphne whispered, "Why aren't you scared?" Tracey gripped Daphne's arm in utter concern as she looked around the table. The others, especially Zabini, were astonished and dismayed at her daring to go against the Upper Order. Harry could tell even Daphne was nervous.
Harry didn't mind one bit if he was targeted by the "older" years. He didn't mind if they targeted Draco either. But he didn't know if Daphne deserved some consideration or not. He couldn't recall any interaction with her in his timeline except for how attractive and popular she was. He didn't ever recall any mention of her or her family becoming Death Eaters. If he considered her beauty, it was more than likely she became a bride of one, willing or not. He would have to ask Draco later, but for now, he didn't want to add any undue strife on her shoulders, even if she was the one who broke the 'rules.' Harry just winked at her to acknowledge he heard her without starting a conversation and putting an unnecessary target on her back.
When the other Ravenclaw felt brave enough to approach the majestic creature, Nova took to the air and returned to Harry's shoulder. Once full, Harry stood and left ahead of most of the other Slytherins; Draco following slightly behind his side. Rather than talk in the open, they walked the halls in silence until they reached the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. A quick flick of his wrist and his white wand was in his hand. Draco looked around suspiciously but said nothing. After a moment, Harry moved on. Draco was curious but again, asked nothing until they reached the one-eyed witch statue by the stairs to Defense. Again Harry brought out his white wand, subtly motioned it with a practiced hand, then promptly left.
Harry entered the Slytherin common room followed by Draco. No more than three steps in and almost every eye was on him. He ignored them all as he made his way to the fourth-year dorms. Standing and moving to intercept them were all the prefects, seniors, and sixth years in the Upper Order, led by Khan.
"Can't have you hiding in your hole for days now, can we? Not that it would stop me. It's been decreed by the Upper Order that you be charged with a Red Order. It's unavoidable, Scarhead," Khan spoke loudly, drawing in eager fight fans. He pointed toward the staircase spiraling down to the lower levels. "You know where the dueling pit is."
"I don't, actually," Harry wearily answered him, his agitation rising. "I've only ever dueled once in my life and it wasn't in here."
Looking at his scars, Khan and the others laughed a great deal. Khan was wiping his left eye of a tear, he laughed so greatly. "Oh Merlin, that's hilarious," he says, before turning to Malfoy. "Lead him down Malfoy. And don't even think for a second you're safe from us... or you, Daphne." He eyed her at the entrance of the common room lavishly, defiling her with clear intentions and annoying Harry in the process. "Oh, I can't wait to take a hands-on approach with your punishment." As the center of the entire room's attention, he yelled out to everyone, "And let this be a lesson to all of you! It doesn't matter if it's the first day or the last, if you're an heir of a great house, or not. If you fraternize with other houses, disrespect the great house of Slytherin, or challenge the Upper Order in any way I disapprove of, you will regret it in blood and agony. Especially you first years-"
"Oh will you shut the fuck up already!" Harry bellowed, cutting off the large prefect and jolting everyone into stunned disbelief.
Harry would've allowed the Orca to bask in his precious spotlight if he had featured in his plans like Tracey, but the bully didn't. There wasn't a single member of the Upper Order that required this level of restraint. It was unnecessary and honestly, Harry was exhausted by the hours spent in useless classes, the fierce battle against a basilisk, and learning about Hermione's ordeal. To then have to listen to this walking advertisement for contraception puff his flabby chest when Harry could have killed him seven times over before the prefect would have even noticed was too much. Harry whipped around to Draco and asked, "Where is it? Where's the pit? I want to get this over with."
"So eager-" Khan tried to say, but Harry walked away, following Draco to the wide stairs that led to the lower levels. The other Slytherins parted ways for them and they led everyone down to the dueling pits. Taking the biggest stage, Harry stood at the furthest end of the square platform, Draco behind him while all the Upper Order took position on their end. Once inside the square, the protective ward rose to keep the spectators safe from stray spells.
All the other years quickly settled around the protective ward, trying to get the best position to easily see either side of the square. Thinking it clever, Khan yelled to Harry, "I'll allow you to put your pet outside the ward, unless you're too scared to duel without it."
Rolling his eyes at the obvious attempt to fight Harry without his phoenix, Harry turned around to place Nova on Draco's shoulder. Harry wanted to laugh when the silver-blonde haired boy tensed up to be the substitute bird stand, but instead, he stopped halfway. A thought occurred to Harry, and he wanted to smack himself for not thinking of it sooner. He asked, "How're you feeling, Draco? You know what, never mind. I don't care. Consider this your evaluation. You're up."
Harry stepped aside to allow Draco to step forward. The Malfoy scion looked a bit taken, but immediately steeled himself and stepped forward. Harry ignored the rustling of the other students for Khan's immediate indignation.
"What the bloody hell is this shite?" Khan yelled. "There aren't no replacements! This here…" he said pointing to the stage, "Is your lesson that needs learning. Malfoy'll get his soon after."
"Now, later, his, mine," Harry mundanely returned. "Who gives a shite. Just go... unless you're too chicken-shit to."
Khan took a moment to consider the change, then nudged one of the Upper Order, a sixth year, who took his position lined up with Draco. Harry raised his hand and called out, "Wait!" He walked up to Draco and asked, "How many do you reckon you can take?"
"One after the other, or together?" Draco questioned for clarity.
"Same time," Harry answered at the tail end of a yawn.
Draco looked at the thirteen boys ahead, and answered truthfully, "Four for sure, maybe five."
Harry nodded and turned their would-be attackers before stating, "He wants another five. Another five at the same time. Come on! Any day now. He'll even give each of you Boy-Bottom Riders a hundred galleons if you beat him. Come on, you know he's good for it." The perimeter was no longer whispering. They're all blatantly excited and either cheering or yelling taunts.
"We don't ride boy's bottoms!" the fifth year prefect Harry couldn't name yelled.
"Why so defensive if it's not true?" Harry innocently asked.
There was more snickering than outright laughter ,but it angers the posse enough. At Khan's angered nod, five more boys lined next to the first. Draco looked at Harry as if to say, 'Really, Potter?' Harry ignored it, and told the scion, "I need to see what you can do, and I'm fairly certain they won't kill you, especially now that they think there are galleons to win."
"No, that's great. They'll only come at me that much harder," Draco says with scornful bitterness.
"Exactly. What are we going against, Malfoy?" Harry asked him seriously. "Who's the real enemy? I need to know what you can do and this is going to help me. Take it seriously. Afterward, I'll be able to come up with an effective training regimen for you."
"Alright. I got it," Draco responded, revising his mentality and attitude.
"You have experience," Harry reminded the silver-haired boy. He knew Draco wasn't as powerful as him, but against this, his experience should trump their numbers. "Use it and show me what you can do." Harry stepped away to the corner to stand watch.
"No surprise attacks Flamel, or the rest of us jump in," Khan called out.
"Yeah, yeah," Harry quipped. "Ring the gong."
Khan called for the duel to start, and six wand hands rose to attack, while Draco simply flicked his wrist. That half-second edge gave him enough time to call out, "Impedimenta!" before the six boys called out a hair-loss curse, the jelly-finger curse, the tongue-tying curse, the jelly-legs jinx, a finger-removing jinx, and a head-swelling hex.
'Childish,' Harry thought. 'Not a single shield.'
Having temporarily slowed down all six boys, Draco side-stepped the bothersome spells and quickly cast four banishing charms that impacted four boys hard in the chest before the last two managed to raise their shield to defend themselves. Continuing his sidestepping, Draco didn't lose a second and stayed on the offensive casting, "Depulso! Depulso! Aguamenti!" The first two were distractions when not too high above the boys, water formed and doused them with a splash.
Harry could guess what the blonde's strategy was here. Unbeknownst to the older gang of bullies, Draco saw Harry use this combination to some effect against a giant basilisk, so when Draco cast, "Baubillious," the room was filled with muffled screams of electrocuted boys.
The four banished boys started to retain their senses and stood to continue fighting when Draco aimed his wand well. Four, "Stupify!" later, and all six boys were incapacitated, to the complete shock of the entire room. Harry could understand why. None of them would have expected a result like this from the Draco Malfoy they were accustomed to, but Harry's body needed rest. He was nearing fifty hours without sleep and had already downed five vials of Nicolas' pepper-up potion to minimal effect.
To move this along, he called out, "Next!"
Khan was the first to snap out of the unexpected daze. He yelled and pushed his other members forward. "Move! Surround him!" Khan himself drew out his wand while Harry stood by watching the fight and making mental notes.
"Warm-up's over Malfoy," Harry told Draco. "They didn't take you seriously before but they're after you now. It's do or die."
And true to his suspicions, Khan and his ilk leveled spell after spell at Draco. Harry could hear they had upgraded the barrage of spells to serious curses; cutting, blasting, fire, bone-crushing, blood-boiling—pretty standard issue for Death Eaters, Harry mused. Those were some of Horcrux-Voldemort's favorites and Harry had felt each and every one over a thousand times at least.
Draco evaded as best he could and combined shield-by-magic with shield-by-transfiguration to block the curses he couldn't sidestep. Unlike the stone floor or walls of the castle, the dueling ring was easily manipulated by magic, aiding Draco when a curse was able to break through his protego charm. Harry could feel the anxiety in the room double with the curses yelled out by the Upper Order. He could understand their unease was mostly politically based and not genuine concern for Draco. Aside from being outnumbered, they were leveling some devastating curses at the heir of the Noble House of Malfoy. If Draco were seriously injured, who knew what Lucious Malfoy would do to all involved.
Harry didn't care much about the boy's safety, but Draco was on his side and he needed to know what the blond could do. Analyzing the way he fought, Harry mused, 'It's not terrible, but he'll need a lot of work.'
Draco extended his left hand, stopping a bone-breaking curse he couldn't dodge or protect himself from, breaking the bones in his hand. His loud guttural growl was the only indication it hurt tremendously as he continued to evade, side-step, shield, and attack whenever he saw a chance was available. Flames caught the end of his robe as he escaped a series of blasting and fire curses that destroyed an arrow riddled wall he had transfigured.
"Why aren't you helping him," Daphne yelled at Harry over the cheering crowd from just outside the safety ward.
Harry hadn't realized she was standing behind him, making him wonder if he was just that tired, just that focused on Draco's combat assessment, or she was that good. "He still has some fight left in him," he evenly answered her.
"He's going to be seriously hurt if you don't help him," Daphne yelled over the crowd. "Isn't he your friend? Don't you care?"
'About Malfoy?' His mind snickered. After everything he had done in the previous timeline, it was a miracle they had even worked together. Unable to say that aloud, he instead told her, "He'll be fine."
Draco was not Harry's favorite person, but he wouldn't allow the pompous idiot to die or get irreversibly injured for his own amusement—that would have just made him too much like the thing he was trying to destroy. He returned to watching Draco, who had sustained another injury, this time to the right thigh. A conjured arrow must have slipped through his defense, he reasoned. Still, Draco managed to down three out of his seven attackers.
The Upper Order was getting desperate. Khan in particular, was prowling the outer edges as his three companions were trying to suppress Malfoy's quick casting and strategy. Harry could tell Khan was looking for an opening to hit Draco with, but there was enough distance for Draco to react when he needed to and dodge or block what was racing toward him. While not the best strategist, Malfoy was aware enough to keep them all from completely surrounding him; conjuring spikes on the floor, and returning stunning, banishing, or cutting curses of his own.
Harry put the probability of this fight lasting long quite high, not to say that Draco was a bad duelist. Fighting against six attackers without the option of running away, and surviving that long was a victory in itself, but when neither side could gain the advantage, it was bound to take a long time... that was until Khan had the brilliant idea to awaken the unconscious upper years and bring them back into the fight. They wouldn't be at a hundred percent, but in this case, the more wands, the better. One look at Draco, and Harry could tell he didn't have a plan. There was hesitation in his steps—uncertainty—and he was being backed.
'Let's see how long you last,' Harry thought, unconcerned with the blond's well-being—more to the point, with the blond's comfort. Draco tried to blind them with a powerful lumos, and while it was a good trick, it didn't work against all nine attacking him. The converging spells had crossed midway, and while Draco had managed an expulso between their shields, it had missed them. Draco was then downed when two reductos hit and destroyed his shield. Robe burned, cut, or tattered, the silver-blond had flown back, landing hard enough against the floor to kick the air out of his lungs and aggravating the arrow in his leg. He was a few steps away from Harry, on his back, coughing blood, bleeding from his nose, and wheezing to get air back in his lungs.
Khan and his ilk stopped attacking and had taken gleeful stock of their doing.
'Pathetic,' Harry thought. 'How can they possibly feel pleased about this kind of victory?' Harry sighed as he realized he didn't care about the answer to that question. Turning to Draco, he said, "Get up." Dazed he may have been, but Draco heard that. As the heaving, fallen boy tilted his head up, Harry commanded him again. "I said up, Malfoy."
Harry ignored the shouts of fury and scorn from the crowd, yelling at him. He could hear Daphne clearer than the others, yelling at him to stop being a wanker—which had been funny language to hear from the mouth of a noble heiress. Harry also ignored how Khan had enervated all but one of his down brothers and they advanced on him slowly. He told Malfoy again, "Get. Up."
"Fuuuuuckin..." the boy wheezed as he started to roll over and lift himself. "...Slave driver..." Draco heaved as he managed to get to his feet, wobbly though they were. Harry took Nova and set her on Draco's shoulder; not even wincing when eight claws sank into his pasty flesh.
"Hold her for me," Harry tells the semi-conscious boy. While it may have looked like Harry was being dickish to Draco, none of the students watching knew that the talons of a phoenix had curative properties, and that Draco should start feeling better momentarily. The talons wouldn't completely heal him, far from it, but they would help with the pain and the body's own healing process.
Harry flicked his wrist and his death-white wand slid perfectly into his grasp, his magic already aching to be freed, despite his exhausted body. He started walking towards the meek tyrants, indifferent to their numbers or their threats.
"Last chance. Bow to me," Khan snidely demanded. "Be my slave the entire year, and I won't hurt you too badly."
As quickly as a two count, Harry flowed more than enough magic into his mentally spoken Petrificus Totalus, and through his death white wand to petrify every single one of them without uttering a syllable or missing a step. There was whispering and shouting all around the room as none of the older bullies moved a muscle. Harry calmly walked up to each of them, and with a swish and flick of his wand, he whispered a severe Confundus Charm, which was closer to total sensory deprivation, cutting off all sensory stimuli to the brain. Their eyes rolled into their heads, and they dropped to the ground, still conscious but like sacks of dead meat, unable to move. One by one, Harry brought each boy down, saving Khan for last.
Standing before the giant oaf, staring up into his enraged eyes, Harry said in a tired and drawn out voice, "As of this moment..." Harry yawned deeply. "Apologies. Tired. As of this moment, the Upper Order is disbanded. And you're going to resign as Slytherin Prefect. Of course, you don't have to, but I'll say this… It would be in your best interest to resign."
Harry flicked and swished his wand, causing Khan's eyes to roll up in his head. The fat tyrant was severely confounded, just like the others. He was unable to see, hear, feel, taste, or smell, adrift in his mind, awake but detached from any connection to the world. As his flabby body and wand hit the ground, Harry wondered if he should do more to them. It was a great spell for psychological torture. The trick behind this form of agony was making the one it was cast upon lose all sense of self. The longer they were isolated from each of their five senses—all the while conscious of that destitute limbo—the worse it would be to recover. Time felt infinite as they quickly lost their grip on their sanity. The weak-minded ones might go mad in an hour's time without medical assistance.
Nova landed on Harry's shoulder as Draco dragged his injured right leg over to stand beside him. "You should've said something cool like, 'Order Rescinded.'"
"Don't make me hurt you," Harry replied. Eying the silver-blond, it would appear he was mildly better, or at least, not in agony. "You think you can make it to the infirmary on your own? Never mind," Harry said as Crabbe and Goyle quickly flanked Draco.
The safety ward dropped, and an excited crowd rushed towards them. Harry turned and exited, ignoring everyone following him for various reasons, such as congratulations, threats, petition for favors, or pumping him for information. He ignored them all until he made it to the common room. Annoyed by their pestering, he turned to scowl at them, and that was enough to make them leave him alone.
Everyone left, except for Greengrass. She asked him questions similar to the others, but he ignored her as well, much to her frustration. It didn't seem like she was used to people ignoring her, and she followed him to the boys' wing of the fourth-year corridor, where he stopped to face her. "I don't mean to be rude, but it's been a long day and I'm really tired."
She seemed opposed to being rebuffed, but pulled herself together and asked, "Then will you agree to speak with me tomorrow?"
"We're in the same everything, Greengrass," Harry answered mundanely. "Chances are good we'll talk again-"
"I mean in private," she cut him off. They stared at each other, sharp baby-blue eyes into drooping bright green ones. "Please," she asked.
"If I have time, sure," Harry replied before he and Nova entered a room she immediately forgot the location of.
Harry finally gets some sleep! It's been a slow start, but it'll start moving soon. I'd love suggestions for the baby basilisks name. I have one in mind but I'm hoping you guys might have a better one 😁
Thank you for reading and I appreciate all comments. Have a great one!