CHAPTER 11: ENCOUNTER WITH CHAOS
Harry scowled, peering from beneath his cloak as he observed the lively scene unfolding below. His father had cleverly assumed the appearance he bore during his seventh year at Hogwarts, yet the distinctive ruby eyes remained unchanged.
The gathering was a medley of houses, where lower-tiered Death Eaters engaged in conversation with their higher-ranked counterparts, and even a handful of children roamed about. Amidst the revelry, two girls, close to Harry's age, conversed in hushed tones, casting wary glances at the adults. Bellatrix, in her element, twirled gracefully with her husband, reveling in the festivity.
The sight grated on Harry's nerves.
"Coilis, convey to Father that I require some air," Harry muttered to his familiar, who perched attentively on the railing.
"Oh? The ball proving too much for you? The sight of dancing adults unsettling? Or is it the absence of a companion that bothers you?" Coilis retorted, a smirk playing on his lips as he relished Harry's evident vexation.
"Shall I summon Nagini to coil around you? Perhaps a dance reminiscent of frilled cobras?" Harry needled, causing Coilis to abruptly abandon the topic, attempting to hide his own embarrassment.
As Harry slipped away, his mind raced with a blend of frustration and curiosity, wondering about the true intentions behind this clandestine gathering and his father's meticulous facade. He wandered towards the secluded gardens, hoping to find solace amidst the tranquility of nature, away from the masked faces and veiled conversations that suffocated the ballroom.
Harry pivoted, channeling his powers akin to Apparition as he whisked himself into his room, nudging the door ajar and pausing, anticipating the stone dragon's movement.
To his astonishment, the dragon spat and hissed, seemingly agitated by an obstruction in its path. Harry wasted no time in stepping out, curious about the cause of the commotion.
A slight, brown-haired boy with a lean frame and a hint of muscle stood before him, blinking and hastily retreating from the growling stone creature.
"He means no harm," Harry assured calmly, prompting the dragon to retreat to its former position. His emerald gaze met the boy's brown eyes, seeking a trace of recognition.
"Who are you, and what brings you wandering the manor on this particular night?" Harry inquired, observing as the boy clumsily regained his footing.
"I'm Theo, Theodore Nott. I wandered off... because, well, I sort of... don't fancy dancing," Theo confessed, his cheeks tinted with a blush as he averted his gaze. Unexpectedly, Harry chuckled softly.
"Surprising, isn't it? A Pureblood who detests dancing. It's a rarity among us," Harry remarked with a smirk, turning to allow the dragon to ease back into place while warily eyeing Theo.
Theo's demeanor seemed a blend of nervousness and intrigue, prompting Harry to gesture toward a nearby alcove where they could speak without the looming presence of the stone dragon.
"So, Theo, what brings you to this secluded part of the manor, away from the revelry?" Harry inquired, curious about the motives that drove someone away from the grandeur of the masked ball.
Theo nodded hesitantly, his nerves palpable in the air. Harry, observing Theo's unease, suggested, "Would you care to come inside? There are some here who wouldn't take kindly to a child wandering the halls..."
Theo nodded again, and Harry, swathed in his chilling cloak, led the way. Once inside, they settled into armchairs, the ambiance a blend of eerie calmness and palpable tension.
"Can I offer you something? Wine, tea, perhaps water?" Harry offered, trying to ease Theo's discomfort. But Theo declined, still visibly on edge.
"If I may ask, who exactly are you?" Theo inquired, his fingers fidgeting nervously with his left arm cuff. Harry chuckled softly, reclining in his chair as he attempted to put Theo at ease.
"I've been waiting for that question. My name is Shadow. I imagine you've heard rumors about me," Harry disclosed, observing as Theo's face drained of color. Theo recoiled, pressing himself against the backrest, clearly unnerved. Harry shook his head, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.
"So, the whispers have reached your ears," Harry mused, noting Theo's struggle to find his voice amidst the tension.
Harry sighed softly, feeling a pang of annoyance at the lack of communication. He leaned forward, intending to dispel the apprehension looming in the air.
Harry quirked an eyebrow, his green eyes probing Theo's hesitant gaze. "Alright, spill it out. What's so fearsome about my power?" His tone held a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
Theo shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tracing the edge of the table nervously. "It's not just the Dark Lord thing or the rumors," he began tentatively. "It's the way you handle magic. The ease with which you control it... it's... intimidating."
Harry's laughter echoed across the room, drawing curious glances from nearby students. "So, it's not my lineage or the gossip, it's the magic itself that gets to you? Trust me, I'm still learning." He flashed a grin, the warmth in his eyes infectious.
The unexpected camaraderie left Theo momentarily stunned. "Uh, yeah. Sure thing, Harry," he stammered, caught off guard by the sudden rapport.
From that day forward, Theo found himself on the periphery of Harry's social circle, unsure of his place but intrigued by the enigmatic boy. Meanwhile, Harry, accustomed to solitude, mused quietly about the concept of friendship, his understanding still a puzzle waiting to be solved.
Crabbe and Goyle remained stalwart presences, forming a barrier around Harry as they exchanged murmured conversations. Among Draco's entourage, Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson lingered nearby, their presence a constant in the group dynamics. First-year students like Blaise and Adrian Puecy added to the mix, their interactions painting a diverse picture of Hogwarts life.
Draco's sneer was evident as the Hufflepuffs reacted with surprise to the fluttering bats above them. "They're like a flock of sheep," he muttered, disdain coloring his voice. Harry, following his gaze, nodded in agreement, prompting Draco to shoot him a quizzical look.
"I mean, it's an odd setup, the house divisions," Harry clarified, sensing Draco's confusion and wanting to explain further.
"What do you mean by that?" Draco asked, genuinely intrigued by Harry's unexpected accord.
Theo, lost in thought, looked down at his meal, pondering deeply. "I think I understand," he said, his voice measured and contemplative. "Hufflepuffs value loyalty, but sometimes it's like they're blindly following without someone to guide them."
"Exactly," Harry affirmed slowly, watching Theo's reaction closely.
"Which essentially makes them timid followers, not leaders," Draco interjected, a smug sense of accomplishment coloring his tone. However, his triumph vanished instantly as he felt the weight of Harry's disapproving stare upon him.
Harry's gaze bore into Draco, an unspoken rebuke lingering in the air. "That's not the point," he interjected firmly, making Draco squirm uncomfortably under his scrutiny.
Theo glanced between them, observing the unspoken tension with a hint of concern, wondering how Harry would navigate this situation without compromising his principles.
Draco's contrite mumble barely echoed in the hall as he quietly resumed his meal, aiming to avoid further disapproval from Harry. Meanwhile, Theo leaned in, his voice a near-whisper as he addressed Daphne, who seemed startled by his sudden inquiry.
"Daphne, what about the horses?" Theo asked, his curiosity piqued, though his tone remained gentle, aware of her lingering unease around him.
Harry, catching the question, interjected, seeking to clarify. "Theo's asking about the Thestrals," he explained, noticing the puzzled expression on Theo's face and Draco's fruitless search around the Great Hall, trying to spot the creatures near the oversized pumpkin. Pansy and Daphne mirrored Draco's gaze, their curiosity not so discreetly concealed.
With a deliberate cough, Harry diverted his attention to his plate, contemplating the unfamiliar dish in front of him. Hogwarts cuisine often left him puzzled, the variety of food often a mystery.
"Thestrals are magical creatures," Harry elaborated, watching Theo's brow furrow in thought. Theo mulled over the name, the concept seeming distant and unfamiliar. Suddenly, Daphne's gasp cut through the air, her lips moving silently as she mouthed unknown words to herself, seemingly struck by a realization. The rest of the group turned to her, their curiosity piqued by her sudden reaction.
Daphne's whispered revelation about the Thestrals drew curious gazes, but Harry couldn't help but let out a soft snort, inadvertently becoming the center of attention once more.
"That's not far off," Harry remarked lightly, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on him. "Thestrals are indeed horse-like creatures, almost the antithesis of Unicorns or Pegasus. The Ministry categorizes them as dark creatures due to their appearance and association with omens." He spoke with a hint of authority, his gaze daring anyone to challenge his explanation. Theo's complexion turned paler as he processed the information.
"Why are they considered dark? And if they are, why are they within the castle grounds?" Theo whispered, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern. Pansy, on edge, began scanning the room for these 'demon horses,' muttering to herself, her agitation evident.
Harry sighed, shaking his head at her futile attempt to spot the creatures. "You won't see them, Parkiness," he remarked, watching her sneering reaction with a sense of exasperation.
"Really? And why's that, Obsidian?" Pansy demanded, her tone challenging, disregarding the startled glances from a few nearby students.
The tension thickened as Harry's words hung in the air, emphasizing the significance of witnessing death to perceive Thestrals. All eyes turned to Theo, who appeared stunned, a Thestral's haunting call reaching their ears, sending a shiver down the spines of several students. The chilling sound went unheard by most, yet its impact lingered.
Theo struggled to find words, his shock evident. But Harry comprehended without needing an explanation. In a disconcertingly eerie manner, the Thestrals possessed a haunting beauty, an aura of sorrow that captivated despite its somberness.
Suddenly, the tranquil atmosphere shattered with shrill screams from two Gryffindor girls, drawing everyone's attention toward the main entrance. Harry recognized the snake-like tracks and realized his scaly companion was hurrying toward him.
"Master! There's a T—" the creature began urgently.
"TROLL!" Lily Potter's panicked cry cut through the air as she burst in, her wide, emerald eyes, different from Harry's sharp jade hues, filled with frantic fear. Daemon Potter sprang into action, swiftly moving to assist his mother. Harry noticed James Potter's absence, a worrying realization dawning on him.
"In the Dungeons... Thought you ought to know," Lily Potter managed before collapsing, caught by Daemon's supporting arms. Professor McGonagall rushed forward to aid Lily, while Daemon, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger swiftly drew their wands.
The abrupt chaos erupted as screams echoed throughout the Great Hall, sending a wave of panic and urgency through the students and faculty alike.
Pandemonium engulfed the Great Hall as seventh-year students leaped into action, attempting to manage the escalating crisis. Even Theo and Draco were swept up in panic, their usual composure shattered by the looming danger. Harry scanned the room frantically, searching for any means to control the chaos among his group, aware of their lack of readiness for such a situation.
In the midst of the commotion, Harry noticed the three troublemakers slipping out, intent on aiding their 'dad' without realizing he was present in the room. Alarm bells rang loudly in Harry's mind.
"I won't let a troll harm Daemon! Not now!" Harry's thoughts screamed, urgency coursing through him. Acting quickly, he seized Vaisey, the Slytherin prefect, pulling her close and hissing urgent instructions.
"Keep the first years in check. We can't afford a spectacle," Harry whispered urgently, releasing her slightly stunned. The Thestrals, agitated by the chaos, added to the turmoil among the students, their calls amplifying the panic.
With teachers occupied and the situation worsening, Harry seized an opportunity. He bolted toward the nearest Thestral, a smaller one, and swiftly mounted its back, feeling the creature rear up beneath him. To his surprise, as he rode, the students' attention seemed to divert away from him, their focus shifting elsewhere.
However, Theo remained vigilant, his voice cutting through the mayhem. "What's he doing?" he exclaimed, drawing the group's attention. Pansy scanned the chaos anxiously, while Draco searched frantically for Harry amid the turmoil.
As panic surged within the group, Daphne's frantic eyes darted around in search of Harry's whereabouts. Theo, visibly distressed, looked up and noticed their shocked Head of House, Professor Snape, observing the unfolding chaos.
"Where is he, Theo?" Daphne's urgency grew as she pressed for an answer.
"He's—oh no, Professor Snape sees him too," Theo whimpered, his eyes filled with worry as he acknowledged their stunned teacher's presence.
"Where? Theo, tell me!" Daphne's voice bordered on desperation as she sought clarity.
"He's riding the Thestral!" Theo's shout resonated, causing a collective gasp of concern from the group.
"Where's he headed?" Daphne's question hung in the air, the group tense and apprehensive, but there was no sign of the boy atop the eerie, skeletal horse.
"I think I know," Crabbe growled suddenly, surprising everyone with his uncharacteristic contribution. Shocked glances were exchanged among the group, amazed by his unexpected words.
Theo silently mouthed to Draco, his expression conveying disbelief at Crabbe's sudden remark. Draco merely shrugged, equally surprised.
Meanwhile, Harry hunkered down on the galloping Thestral, the wind whipping past him as they made their way out of the Great Hall. The creature let out a haunting cry, its wings flapping powerfully as it effortlessly bypassed the steps, indicating a direction only it and Harry knew.
Harry's command spurred the Thestral into action, its eerie cries resonating with a strange agreement. Portraits in the hall blinked in disbelief at the unusual scene unfolding before them. But as they rushed through the corridors, Harry winced; they were heading toward the third floor, the off-limits corridor.
The Thestral dashed on, its movements swift and strangely controlled, its wings serving as rudders as it navigated the halls. Harry hunkered down, marveling at the speed and control of the creature.
"Whoa, riding a Thestral beats a werewolf any day," Harry mused to himself, crouching even lower on the creature's back. Suddenly, the Thestral screeched, coming to an abrupt halt that nearly threw Harry forward. It reared up, hooves striking out in a clear sign of agitation.
"This is why... I hate... flying," moaned Coilis from Harry's sleeve, reminding him of his familiar's presence.
"Sorry, but I need to stop this Troll before it harms Potter. I won't allow his life to end by a mere club," Harry retorted urgently, a surge of anger coloring his words.
"Misplaced aggression, Master?" Coilis questioned, sensing Harry's intense emotions.
"Finish him," Harry hissed in frustration. Coilis slithered from Harry's sleeve, coiling around his arm, poised and ready to strike, a silent ally in the looming crisis.
As Harry assessed the monstrous creature before him, he noted its immense size—standing at twelve feet tall—towering over the seven-foot rearing height of the Thestral. Its rough hide and massive club made for a fearsome sight, and as the 'Golden Trio' dashed away in panic, Harry felt a surge of frustration at Potter's reckless decision to sprint down the forbidden corridor.
"Potter's taken a wild sprint down the forbidden corridor," Coilis observed.
"Let's deal with the troll first, Master," the familiar suggested, ready to act.
"Agreed." Harry nodded. The Thestral partially spread its wings, enough to create a threatening presence that sent the troll staggering backward. The impact shattered the club, turning it into a splintered mess resembling a toothpick jumble.
Roaring in anger, the troll attempted a punch, but Coilis's strike made it recoil in fear.
"Hold on, let me make it look like I did something," Harry muttered, waving his wand. The wooden fragments transformed into a cluster of thick, sharp needles.
"These would surely make a painful landing, no matter how tough the troll's scales are," Harry remarked, assessing the makeshift defense.
As the troll bellowed in agony from Coilis's bite and the impaling needles, Harry urged the Thestral to step back, positioning themselves strategically. With a sudden lunge from the troll, the Thestral executed a half flap, rising and twisting swiftly, delivering a powerful rib-breaking kick to the creature.
The troll cried out in pain, but the situation intensified as Coilis's venom failed to take effect as expected. Instead of incapacitating the troll, the bite caused a disturbing reaction—the area around the wound turned an alarming shade of black and green, oozing blood profusely.
"Master, my venom isn't reacting as it should," Coilis reported, perplexed by the unexpected outcome.
"It seems your venom glands might have adapted to mimic a Gaboon Viper's. Slower but more potent," Harry reasoned, observing the ominous transformation.
"It's only temporary," Coilis added, noticing the gravity of the situation.
"Ah! Just like Nagini's!" Harry teased, a hint of amusement in his voice, as he carefully drew Coilis back around his arm, their bond stronger than ever in this dire moment.
As the chaos subsided and the troll lay defeated, Harry addressed the Thestral, signaling its departure. With a nod, the creature turned and dashed towards an open window, prompting three muffled screams from a room nearby as the Golden Trio emerged, sending out unexpected barks—a mystery Harry resolved to investigate later.
"Good grief! That dog was massive!"
"Forget the size, Ronald, did you see what it was standing on?"
"Looking at its feet? I was too busy staring at its three heads!" Ron exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief directed at the girl named Mud-Blood.
"Let's hope the troll is g—"
"A little too late for that," Harry interjected calmly, observing the trio as they approached the scene. Their focus shifted from the disheveled club and the snake-inflicted wound on the troll to Harry himself, the cause of the troll's demise.
"What? Who said that?" The girl inquired, not daring to look around, her attention fixed on the troll's lifeless form. The confusion and astonishment were palpable among the trio as they processed the unexpected turn of events.
In the dimly lit corridor of Hogwarts, tension crackled like static electricity as accusations flew between the trio and a figure called Obsidian. Ron's voice echoed, charged with indignation. "Mione, you can't see him? It's Obsidian! The one that spun those tales about Daemon!"
Harry maintained a composed facade, his gaze fixed on the unfolding drama. "Ron? What's the matter?"
"He's just there, smirking like a serpent! The conniving sneak!" Daemon Potter's voice sliced through the air, his finger pointed in accusation. Coilis, the snake, hissed in response, triggering a subtle shift in Harry's demeanor, signaling potential danger to the boys.
"Remember what I've told you about your words," Harry chided, but before he could delve deeper, hurried footsteps thundered up the stairs.
Suddenly, a contingent of six wizards and witches turned the corner, their eyes instantly falling upon Harry and the Golden Trio. Among them, Severus Snape stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall flanking the other side. Madam Pomfrey hovered behind the trio, while the figures of James and the recently resurrected Lily Potter completed the astonishing assembly.
An audible gasp collectively escaped their lips, leaving Harry to ponder the cause. "Oh Daemon! Are you hurt? What happened?" Lily's concern quickly morphed into sternness, her maternal instincts aflame.
Ron Weasley visibly swallowed, realizing the gravity of the situation.
The air grew thick with a blend of confusion, concern, and a dash of apprehension. Dumbledore's gaze held a mix of curiosity and worry, Snape's features remained inscrutable, and McGonagall wore a perplexed yet vigilant expression. James and Lily Potter's presence injected an unexpected twist into the charged atmosphere, their astonishment mirroring the others'.
"Explain yourselves," Dumbledore's calm voice finally broke the silence, his eyes probing each face for answers while the corridor hummed with anticipation.
The atmosphere crackled with a blend of curiosity and reprimand, punctuated by Albus Dumbledore's twinkling eyes as he addressed Harry. "Ah, it seems my eyes did not deceive me when I caught sight of a young boy atop a Thestral." Harry's expression remained an enigmatic mask, his mental barriers impenetrable; jumping to conclusions without proof was a folly he wouldn't entertain.
"Mr. Obsidian, do you comprehend the recklessness of your actions? That was remarkably Gryffindor-like," Snape admonished, his tone edged with almost a glare. Harry couldn't help but snort. There was no evidence of the Thestral, yet Snape's scolding likely referred to Harry's bold decision to confront the troll.
"Gryffindor-like? Hardly. The true Gryffindors fled with tails tucked between their legs," Harry retorted, aiming his barb at his own house head. Instantly, Minerva stepped in, ready to chastise her 'little lions'. Snape's eyes held a faint glimmer of amusement as Harry managed to volley an insult, land three students in trouble, and subtly paint them all as cowards.
'Well played, Mr. Obsidian, well played,' Snape's thoughts resonated silently, appreciating the intricate dynamics at play, just before Albus cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone present.
"As entertaining as this banter is, might I inquire about the whereabouts of the troll?" Dumbledore queried, directing his question pointedly at Daemon Potter.
"Absolutely! Do enlighten us and make us proud!" James exclaimed eagerly, his enthusiasm causing Ron and Hermione to squirm uncomfortably, sensing trouble brewing.
Daemon's chest puffed up with pride as he proclaimed, "Yeah! I beat that thing with one arm behind my back, it's… um… over there!" Harry swiftly intercepted, directing his words to the professors, Snape excluded.
"As amusing as it may sound, that arrogant youngster twisted the truth. He didn't kill it," Harry calmly stated, prompting a sharp inhale from Minerva.
"Kill? Oh, no! We can only hope it's been stunned! It would require a team of Aurors to bring down a full-grown mountain troll!" Minerva explained, her words tinged with urgency.
"Indeed? And how improbable is it for a first-year to accomplish such a feat?" Snape drawled from behind Harry, who stepped aside, allowing Snape a clear view.
"Utterly impo—" Minerva's words abruptly halted as Harry moved, revealing the massive feet of the mountain troll.
"Oh! Well done, Daemon! We're so—" Lily began, her voice filled with pride, only to be cut off by Snape's sneer directed at James, who responded with a glare.
"Before you jump to conclusions, Potter," Snape retorted, but Albus intervened before the tension escalated further.
"What's this, Albus?" Lily inquired, approaching alongside James. The professors turned their attention to Albus as he gingerly reached down, his fingers making contact with the troll's flesh, specifically its arm. He exhaled sharply and turned to Daemon.
"What curse did you use to kill it?" Albus asked gently, and Daemon shifted uneasily. Harry stepped forward, examining the wound. The torn flesh, oozing blood, appeared grotesque, the damage so severe that it was hardly recognizable as a bite. The swollen tissue emitted a putrid odor, indicating the ruptured blood vessels beneath, causing the skin to discolor.
"Um…" Daemon fidgeted once more, growing increasingly nervous. Snape drew out his wand. "Scourgify," he incanted clearly, vanishing the blood to reveal Coilis's distinctive bite marks.
Ah, just where I want to be. Amidst the veil of misunderstanding and the cloak of secrecy, perched on the edge of revelation. There's a certain thrill in being privy to truths hidden from plain sight, much like a puzzle waiting to be unraveled. The echo of Coilis's words resonated within, a reminder of the clandestine world that danced alongside the oblivious.
Harry's steps carried him along the corridor, away from the perplexing scene, his thoughts swirling. The adults, caught in their assumptions, remained blind to the reality lurking within their very midst. It was a realm he navigated with ease—the realm of concealed truths, overlooked details, and untold stories.
In the clandestine realm where secrets dwelled, where truths whispered just beneath the surface, Harry found a curious solace. His journey, a mosaic of hidden corridors, concealed passages, and enigmatic revelations, was precisely where he thrived—a place where the unseen spoke louder than the obvious.
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