CHAPTER 9: THE HOUSEBOUND DESTINY

While taking a leisurely stroll through Diagon Alley, an unusual spectacle caught my attention – a sizable crowd comprised of witches and wizards. My curiosity piqued, I hastened my steps to discern the cause of the commotion. In the center of the gathering stood Daemon Potter, the renowned Boy-Who-Lived, surrounded by two other boys. One was unmistakably Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy, a prominent figure in wizarding society. The second boy, a newcomer, sported slightly disheveled black hair with a peculiar bluish tint and piercing green eyes.

As the crowd clamored for an explanation, a young witch named Georgia Fardin, a recent graduate from Ravenclaw at Hogwarts, stepped forward to recount the incident. "You see," she began, "this young man here calmly responded to questions, but out of nowhere, this brat started hurling insults at him. Instead of retaliating, the boy answered with composure. Suddenly, the brat charged at him, attempting to throw a punch. Swift as a cat, the young man sidestepped, causing the brat's hand to collide with a wall, shattering his knuckles. Now, he's wailing and seeking sympathy like an infant!"

Upon corroborating the story with numerous witnesses, I decided to conduct private interviews with the enigmatic boy and the young Malfoy heir. What unfolded before me was quite perplexing. Daemon Potter remained sprawled on the ground, tears streaming down his face, despite the non-life-threatening nature of his injuries. The drama unfolded like a twisted scene from a magical play, leaving me eager to delve deeper into the dynamics at play in this peculiar altercation.

Guiding Mr. Malfoy and, as I discovered, Mr. Obsidian away from the bustling crowd, I initiated my interview. It appeared that the two gentlemen were engaged in a convivial exchange, showcasing their recent acquisitions from a nearby animal market when Daemon Potter abruptly charged at them. I posited a tentative theory that jealousy over Mr. Obsidian's purchases might have triggered the confrontation. To my amazement, the boys promptly unveiled their magical companions. Mr. Malfoy revealed a majestic Eagle Owl, gracefully perched on his arm, while Mr. Obsidian, in response to my hypothetical bird scenario, produced a colossal snake from his bag.

Let me clarify, I am not one to harbor fear of snakes. However, Mr. Obsidian, with a twinkle in his eye, informed me that the snake in question was a Viper, categorized based on the lethality of its venom. With gentle assurance, he allowed me to caress the creature. Unlike my prior encounters with snakes, this particular specimen, identified as a Gaboon Viper—a desert-dwelling species—was surprisingly dry, devoid of the expected wet and slimy texture. Beautiful and seemingly harmless, it bestowed a friendly lick upon my hand, affirming its gentle nature.

Shortly thereafter, the two boys bid me farewell, departing with polite wishes for a good evening. Reflecting upon my notes, it became apparent that there was no tangible reason for the altercation, aside from Daemon's apparent anger. Delving deeper, it appeared that this was not an isolated incident; it begged the question—could our esteemed hero be harboring a streak of entitlement and petulance, transforming him into a potential spoiled brat?

For those seeking additional information on Gaboon Vipers and Eagle Owls, please refer to page 12.

To explore the depths of Daemon Potter's character, turn to page 5.

Article authored by Rita Skeeter.

Harry's face lit up with a broad grin as he set down the Daily Prophet; this was undoubtedly a pleasant turn of events. His father had come across the newspaper in a stand, and after a hearty hour of laughter, he swiftly penned a brief reply to the train, knowing Harry would be there ahead of schedule.

Harry, I witnessed your little spectacle in Diagon Alley; the challenge now is how the fool plans to sweep it under the rug. Advise Coilis to munch on some ginger; it might help with the aftertaste. Lucius secured a ministry pass, allowing you to keep your 'Viper' at the school. Oh, and the bird is a birthday present. Enjoy. No formal sign-off, but Harry recognized the sender without a doubt.

The unexpected gift, a sizable Gyrfalcon, left Harry in awe. How his father had managed to acquire such a majestic creature remained a mystery. Fully mature, the bird boasted an unusual yet captivating appearance—a striking blend of white with black wing tips. Her large golden eyes, reminiscent of an owl's, added to her peculiar charm, creating a captivating sight that left Harry wondering about the origins of this extraordinary birthday surprise.

The peculiar choice of September 1st as Harry's "birthday" bore a poignant significance—it marked the day when Bellatrix took him back, symbolizing the commencement of his "new life." This narrative, carefully crafted and inscribed in official Ministry records (courtesy of Malfoy's discreet manipulations), effectively obscured Harry's actual birthday on July 31st. The misdirection was deliberate, concealing the truth beneath a less conspicuous date.

Coilis, now comfortably adapted to his new form as a Gaboon Viper, reveled in the experience. Stretching out on the adjacent seat, he luxuriated in the warm embrace of sunlight, embodying a remarkable ease with his serpent identity.

Meanwhile, the Gyrfalcon, named Hedwig, perched regally on the back of Harry's seat, her keen eyes attentively scanning the passing scenery through the window.

The compartment's door slid open, revealing a bushy-haired girl with prominent buck teeth, accompanied by a jittery boy with a pronounced stutter. Brimming with an air of intellectual superiority, the girl inquired, "Hello there. Neville lost his toad; have you seen it?"

Harry's response was both pragmatic and amusing. "Depends," he quirked an eyebrow before directing his attention to Coilis. "You haven't eaten a toad, have you?" he asked, prompting his snake companion, who responded by burying his nose deeper into his coils, rendering the question unanswered yet comically suggestive. The unexpected dynamics in the compartment hinted at the intriguing journey that awaited them all.

"How about you, Hedwig?" Harry inquired playfully. In response, Hedwig emitted a vehement squawk, clearly offended at the mere suggestion of devouring a toad.

"That's a Gyrfalcon," Hermione remarked in awe, her eyes fixed on the majestic bird.

Introducing herself and her companion, Neville Longbottom, as first years, Hermione seemed eager to establish a connection. Harry, however, couldn't help but let his mind wander to the Longbottoms, victims of Bellatrix's cruel curse that led to their tragic fate.

"Yes, I'm a first year. I don't recognize your name, so you must be a Mud-Blood. Longbottom, huh? At least there's one Pure-Blood," Harry commented with a sly grin, stretching out his feet nonchalantly.

Neville winced at the mention of "Mud-Blood," and Hermione wore a puzzled expression. "What?" she retorted, but before the conversation could unfold further, the train lurched into motion. Neville gently tugged at Hermione's arm, and the two departed, closing the compartment door behind them.

Harry seized the moment, a smirk playing on his lips as he pulled out a book from a small bag. With a flick of magic, he restored the book to its normal size and affixed the tiny pouch containing it to Hedwig's leg. As the train rumbled along the tracks, Harry delved into the world of words, leaving behind a compartment brimming with untold stories and unexplored dynamics.

Opening the book, Harry reclined in his seat, immersing himself in the words as the train journey unfolded. About twenty minutes later, the compartment door swung open once more, revealing a red-haired Weasley and Daemon, both of whom seemed to have narrowly made it onto the train. They scanned the compartments in search of an available space, their attention diverted until the door clicked shut. Harry, however, beat them to the introductions.

"Potter, Weasley," he acknowledged, not bothering to lift his eyes from the pages of his book. Startled, both Weasley and Daemon instinctively drew their wands, pointing them in Harry's direction. Harry regarded the wands with a raised eyebrow.

"You two can actually cast spells properly?" he quipped, an amused glint in his eyes. The Weasley boy blushed and lowered his wand slightly, while Daemon remained defiant.

"You embarrassed me in front of the entire crowd in Diagon Alley!" Daemon protested.

"Nope, you did that yourself," Harry countered, unfazed. The Weasley boy hastily grabbed Daemon, preventing him from lunging at Harry.

"Don't do it, mate; he isn't worth it," the Weasley boy cautioned. Harry, with a snort, closed his book.

"On the contrary, I might be your worst adversary. How, you ask? Well, I have a large raptor inside this compartment eyeing the old mouse in your pocket, and a very lethal snake in the other chair eyeing you for insulting him." The realization seemed to dawn on the two, and they suddenly grasped the extent of their disadvantage.

"Not true! That worm can't understand what we're saying!" the Weasley boy retorted, pointing accusingly at Coilis.

"The mouse in your pocket has passed out, and you smell like a weasel. Is there any reason why I shouldn't bite you? No? Yes?" Coilis ranted in anger, Harry finding slight amusement in the snake's candid outburst.

"You think he can't understand what I say?" Harry casually questioned, drawing the attention of Coilis and the two boys. Daemon sneered, and Weasley crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face.

"Go ahead, strangle him if you want," Harry nonchalantly stated, reopening his book. Weasley looked perplexed, unsure if Harry was addressing him or Daemon. However, he certainly didn't anticipate Coilis lunging, wrapping his coils around Weasley's throat and sending him sprawling to the floor, screaming and thrashing.

"I'm gonna die! Get it off me! Get it off!" Weasley cried out, thrashing even more. Daemon Potter bolted for the door, desperate to escape.

"That's enough; I'll get you a rat when we get there," Harry calmly declared, prompting Coilis to release his captive and slither back to his heated perch.

"Weasley?" Harry inquired as they hurried to the door, only to be met with a dirty glare.

"Watch what you say," came the scowl, and the two hastily departed from the compartment.

The Sorting Ceremony, the one aspect that had given Harry a slight sense of trepidation. He had heard murmurs and complaints about it, but now, as he observed the proceedings, he realized why – it was a chaotic affair.

"Abbott, Hannah!" Professor McGonagall called out. A plump girl with long gold pigtails dashed forward, took her seat on the stool, and the Sorting Hat engulfed her head. There was a considerable delay before the hat finally declared "Hufflepuff."

"Granger, Hermione!" The hall brimmed with anticipation. Hermione sat on the stool, the hat covering her eyes for what felt like an eternity. After much contemplation, the hat settled on "Gryffindor," and she joyfully joined the cheering table.

"Potter, Daemon!" The hall hushed into silence, save for hushed whispers. Daemon strolled over confidently, settling into the chair. The hat descended, twitching slightly, its mouth forming an 'h,' but what emerged was a growling "Gryffindor." Daemon, exuding confidence, sauntered to the cheering Gryffindor table. Harry, with a sharp gaze, noticed a glint in Dumbledore's eye as he observed Daemon.

"Obsidian, Harry!" The announcement jolted him. Without hesitation, Harry walked up silently, taking his place on the stool. The hat descended, and a voice echoed in his mind.

"Well well, Hello, hidden Mr. Potter. I must say, I've been meaning to meet you."

'What do you mean?' Harry thought back, cautious of the hat's ability to delve into his mind. He

"I see into the minds of all, and in the oldest of the Weasleys, they still remember you. Percy Weasley, a fifth-year, recalls you faintly, as do Fred and George Weasley. Ah, you are wary—a commendable trait in this unforgiving world. But fear not, Mr. Potter. I am bound by the laws of Hogwarts herself and the four founders never to spill the secrets of all children."

'Oh? Tell me, Sorting Hat, how is being wary a good trait?'

"Ironic, for a student long ago once asked me the exact same question. Interesting, isn't it, Mr. Riddle? Very sneaky on your part, loyal to your cause even though it goes against what I believe in. But the Hufflepuffs would fear you; no, you would fit in Gryffindor before Hufflepuff."

'Don't you dare, Sorting Hat.'

The hat continued, unperturbed by Harry's mental threat.

"You are smart, possessing talents others could only dream of. Discovering magic at a young age would place you in Ravenclaw, but your ambition to wield it surpasses that, a Slytherin trait."

'Ah, you have encountered a mind like this before, I assume? You speak with ease about this.'

"But of course, Mr. Riddle. Ironic, isn't it, that you hold an uncanny resemblance of traits as your father? As well as your past, present, and future."

'Wha-'

"You belong in Slytherin!" The last word was emphatically shouted, causing Harry to slide off the stool. As he descended, he caught a faint whisper.

"Speak to me again one day," it urged before turning its attention to the next student. Harry walked away, leaning against a marble pillar, choosing the shadows over the limelight of the Great Hall.

Surveying the rows of teachers, his gaze darkened when he spotted a sea of red hair. Lily Potter nee Evans sat on the far left, a tray held aloft, revealing the subjects each teacher was responsible for. 'Muggle Studies,' he noted with disdain. Having a Muggle-born teach a position supposedly tailored for half-bloods and Mud-bloods was an irony not lost on him. A Slytherin third year caught Harry's gaze and snickered, prompting a low growl from Harry's throat. The intricate dance of alliances and rivalries had begun, and Harry chose to linger in the shadows, observing the intricate tapestry of Hogwarts life.

"Professor Potter, huh? That Mud-Blood couldn't even defeat a blinded squib," she scoffed, her disdain evident, provoking a chorus of disdainful grumbles from those around her. Harry blinked slowly, discerning the prevalent animosity towards the professor. As the feast concluded, the Prefects stepped forward, reciting the password 'Dragons eye.' With the utterance of the secret phrase, a previously inconspicuous wall came to life, revealing a subtle snake imprint, ensuring that it wouldn't be overlooked accidentally.

The wall creaked and shifted, rising upright to grant passage. First years gazed in wonder, exchanging murmurs about the marvels of their newfound surroundings. The Slytherin Common room resembled a cave, complete with low ceilings and a gentle slope. Green torchlight cast an eerie glow, emanating from peculiar creature skulls in certain spots. Adjacent to the exit, a bulletin board stood, while leather couches adorned with silver trimming beckoned on the left side.

"This is the Slytherin Common room. Spread out and find your own. They are designated and, typically, three to a room, though some may have two or one. You're free to swap rooms at any point during the year. Room assignments are tiered by year – first years are downstairs, second years on the ground level, third years up the stairs, and so forth. Now, go explore. Be back here in two hours for a concise overview of Slytherin House," the Prefect instructed before abruptly turning away, leaving the first years in a frenzied quest to locate their rooms amidst the labyrinthine depths of the subterranean chamber.

Amidst the shuffle, snippets of hushed conversations emerged, blending seamlessly with the excited whispers of first years discovering the intricacies of their new home. "Did you see those creature skull torches? Creepy but cool," one student remarked, earning nods of agreement. Another ventured, "I hope I get a room with a view. Maybe by those mysterious stairs they mentioned."

In the midst of it all, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation, as the first years embarked on their journey to uncover the secrets and peculiarities of Slytherin House.

"Harry!" Draco's voice echoed through the corridor as he hastened to match Harry's swift pace. A handful of other children trailed behind Draco, but Harry remained focused, having noticed their presence sporadically within the manor. "I suggest you find your rooms; who knows what might happen if you don't," Harry advised, abruptly veering left and striding down a hallway, scanning for the door bearing his surname.

Coming to a halt, Harry reconsidered his approach. Surveying the halls, he closed his eyes, immersing himself in a moment of serene silence. "Coilis? Are you nearby?" "At last, you summon me, Master. I identified your room long before. Follow me," hissed Coilis, materializing on Harry's left. The snake seemed to flick its tail in amusement at Harry's attempt to locate his room.

Emboldened by Coilis' guidance, Harry pivoted and followed the sinuous path through the manor's intricate corridors. The flickering torchlight cast shadows, creating an otherworldly ambiance as they navigated the mysterious depths of Slytherin House. Meanwhile, Draco and the other students dispersed, their chatter gradually fading into the distance as Harry and Coilis pursued the elusive destination of his Slytherin abode.

Coilis gracefully twisted and guided Harry to a surprisingly proximate room on the left side, an unassuming chamber with only Harry's name adorning the door – a solitary sanctuary. Opposite Harry's quarters, two girls occupied the neighboring room, each space devoid of any furnishings. Those who neglected to erect protective wards soon regretted their arrogance, a lesson learned the hard way. This explained the absence of a strict division between the girl and boy sides of the corridor.

Unlocking his room, Harry found it bare, with only two beds and his trunk resting at the base of one. Two dressers and side tables completed the stark ensemble. Dissatisfied with the simplicity, Harry refused to accept the status quo.

"Ligamitian," Harry intoned, slashing his hand across the twin beds. An invisible force compelled them together, seamlessly merging into a queen-sized bed reminiscent of the one in his manor. Determined to further transform his living space, he aimed his wand at one of the dressers, uttering, "Rigaterim." The dresser groaned and stretched, elongating into a stately wardrobe.

As the room underwent its magical metamorphosis, Harry surveyed the blank walls, a frown etching his features. The sterile, white expanse proved too conspicuous and harsh on the eyes. "I'll have to find another spell soon to change the colors," he mused, resolving to personalize his surroundings with a touch of magic and creativity. The prospect of crafting a space uniquely his own energized Harry, sparking the beginning of his enchanting journey within the concealed depths of Slytherin House.

"Exuo," Harry incanted, forming a star shape with his wand. In response, the contents of his trunk levitated gracefully, each item finding its designated place with an enchanting precision that amused Harry. Amidst the arrangement, a peculiar spherical object, akin to a Remembrall, lingered in the air. It radiated a smoky grey when at peace but flashed white when detecting falsehoods within its surroundings, a testament to Harry's ingenuity. With a casual command, the floating sphere obediently settled on the left side table, immediately causing the adjacent lamp's smoke to swirl in an eerie dance.

"My rock! Where is my rock!" Coilis hissed in sudden alarm as he slithered into the trunk, apparently in search of a prized possession.

"Try the left side of the wardrobe," Harry hissed back, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He observed with satisfaction as Coilis, succumbing to the illusion, tumbled through the left side of the wardrobe and onto his cherished rock.

"Trickery! How dare you trick the great species!" Coilis erupted in a furious outburst, indignant at the unexpected deception.

"In my defense, Nagini passed me the idea," Harry retorted, offering a nonchalant justification. The ensuing silence was brief, shattered by Coilis launching into a vehement tirade, vowing to exact a revenge so thorough that it would take Nagini three skin sheds to rid herself of the imagined offenses. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the theatrics, reveling in the animated banter between himself and his irate serpent companion. The dynamic within his newly transformed Slytherin haven promised to be anything but mundane.

"Come on, Coilis, let's head to the common room," Harry suggested, lifting his still slightly disgruntled snake and draping it around his neck. As the group of first years moved towards the entrance, the others engaged in hushed mutterings. Harry, preferring the shadows to the spotlight, hugged the wall and lingered at the rear of the pack.

At the forefront were the two Prefects, accompanied by a couple of stern-looking seventh years. The cave-like entrance fell silent as the male Prefect took charge. "Okay, listen up, first years!"

Vaisey and Terence, the Prefects, scanned the assembled students before Terence continued, "We are your Prefects, capable of giving detention and deducting house points. We'll be taking points from other houses as we have no common ally. We are neutral with Ravenclaw, at odds with Gryffindor, and the ones the Hufflepuffs are wary of. Everyone knows why, correct?"

A girl with raven-black hair and a slightly pug-like nose eagerly chimed in, "Because they think we're dark!" Her statement garnered nods of agreement from those around her, and Harry noted her frequent presence around Draco, often casting disdainful glances.

Terence nodded, addressing the outspoken girl, "Yes, why? Because the other houses think that we're Dark Lord wannabes. Are we all? No, I'll admit, some of us are Death Eaters, but most of us are not." The clarification hung in the air, dispelling some misconceptions while underscoring the complex and varied nature of Slytherin House. The assembly, now enlightened, listened intently as the Prefects proceeded with their introductory remarks.

"Yes, because one of the 'not-Death-Eaters' is actually Shadow the Dark Heir," Harry mused inwardly, casting a subtle glance at the seventh years as they began their address to the first years.

"We are Slytherin, known for our cunningness and the ability to slip out of any situation. We stick together and never show weakness to the other houses," the male seventh year declared, his gaze carrying a subtle threat as it swept over the assembled first years.

"If you have any rivalries within the house, it ends once we leave the common rooms. No other houses can perceive a weakness," a girl added, nodding as she echoed the sentiment, likely recalling it from some established Slytherin tradition.

"Each of us has strengths and weaknesses. If you excel in something, expect others to seek your help. While we may be adept with our tongues, some may not be as mentally inclined," another seventh year elaborated. A few snorts resonated through the group, prompting Draco to shoot pointed looks at two burly boys who resembled large apes, their faces turning a shade of embarrassed red.

As the seasoned Slytherins imparted their wisdom, Harry absorbed the unspoken rules and dynamics of his new house. The emphasis on unity and resilience resonated, and he couldn't help but acknowledge the intricate tapestry that Slytherin House wove, each thread contributing to its unique identity within the magical realm of Hogwarts.

"We have witches skilled in healing charms. If you're ever hurt, seek one of us out. If it's severe, go to Madam Pomfrey," a calm and soft-spoken thin blonde girl advised, offering a reassuring touch of compassion to the otherwise sharp Slytherin ambiance.

"And finally, we are cunning and quick. Now, I won't harm you, but I must ask, how many of you smuggled things not allowed at Hogwarts?" Vaisey inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice as more than 75% of the students admitted guilt by raising their hands.

"Now, you must disclose what you brought if it can harm another in any way. If it's something like a broomstick, we'll cover for you if you're ever in need," Terence reassured, gesturing to a slightly startled boy whom he guided onto the stage.

"Tell us your name and what you brought," prompted the nurse-witch, who had joined the others in their chairs, prepared to oversee the revelations of contraband within Slytherin House. The air hummed with a blend of anticipation and secrecy as the first years prepared to unveil their clandestine acquisitions.

"Urm, my name is Theodore Nott, and I brought a potion that causes the user to go into a coma on contact. It's only for a few days, and I was planning to use it for the Gryffindor's…," Theodore mumbled, his cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment. Chuckles rippled through the assembly, and he hastily stepped down, leaving an air of intrigue in his wake.

The next to step forward was a girl with a pug-like face, unapologetically proclaiming, "My name is Pansy Parkinson, and I brought a smoke raven." Pansy carried herself with an air of indifference, paying no mind to the subtle murmurs that followed her admission. A few knew that acquiring a creature like that often involved a visit to Knockturn Alley.

As the revelations continued, various students confessed to possessing illegal items for pranks. One boy unveiled a cursed dagger, explaining that it created an instant ward when stabbed into a wall, safeguarding his room and belongings. It seemed he had been persuaded that such precautions were necessary.

Finally, Draco Malfoy stood up, exuding an air of confidence that belied any fear. "My name is Draco Malfoy, and I brought an artifact rumored to have been owned by the Dark Shadow himself," Draco declared, his announcement echoing through the cavernous chamber. With a swift and silent exit, he left the audience contemplating the mysterious and storied artifact now concealed within the walls of Slytherin House.

'Oh? I wonder what he snagged,' Harry pondered, the line of students propelling him forward until he found himself at the forefront.

"My name is Harry Obsidian-" Before he could continue, whispers erupted, and a daring boy shouted, "Do you really have that snake of yours?" An air of suspense lingered as everyone waited for Harry's response. In response, Harry blinked slowly and fixed his gaze on the inquisitive boy.

"You think I would leave him at home? No, he's actually right… here," Harry concluded, gently unraveling the impressive serpent from around his neck. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd; some took a step back, while others paled at the unexpected proximity of the formidable creature.

"Great Merlin," one girl whispered, her eyes wide with astonishment. The realization that Harry indeed possessed a snake, now vividly displayed, struck the onlookers with a sense of awe.

"That's… a constrictor, right?" Vaisey inquired, taking a cautious step forward. Coilis emitted a slight hiss, perturbed by the misunderstanding, but Harry dismissed it with a snort.

"No, he's a viper, native to Africa. Mistake him for a constrictor, let him bite you, and you're dead within a day," Harry clarified, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. He observed with satisfaction the horrified expression on Vaisey's face, appreciating the dramatic effect of unveiling the true nature of Coilis, the African viper, in the midst of Slytherin House.

"Here, hold him," Harry declared, practically tossing Coilis toward Vaisey. On impulse, she caught the viper, only to pale quickly at the unexpected weight and sensation of the sinuous creature in her hands.

"Hey, watch the scales, woman! Wait, why are you shaking? You are afraid, you smell of fear. You fear that I will bite you? No, that would send me away," Coilis hissed, his tone more amused than angry.

"He won't hurt you; he's just amused," Harry reassured, extending his arm. In response, Coilis lunged, coiling himself around Harry's arm. "As pleasing as that was, I want my rock," the snake hissed, flicking his tongue in anticipation.

With the meeting concluded, Harry made his exit, heading back to his room. As he closed the door behind him, Coilis offered a parting remark. "Goodnight, Master."

"Goodnight, Coilis," Harry responded, the bond between the two evident in their exchange. The door clicked shut, leaving the Slytherin common room to settle into a quiet night, shadows dancing in the torchlight as the students dispersed to their respective quarters within the concealed depths of Slytherin House.

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