CHAPTER 10: THE SLYTHERIN CODE

As Harry strolled back into the common room, accompanied by Daphne and Tracy, their intertwined arms drawing curious glances from their peers, they were met with an unexpected sight: Draco Malfoy, perched on a plush armchair, his demeanor haughty as ever.

Draco's eyes ignited with indignation at the sight of Daphne and Harry, his voice booming across the common room as if he were the lord of the manor. "Greengrass!" he bellowed, commanding the attention of everyone present. "What do you think you're playing at?"

Daphne, her composure as steely as her resolve, faced Draco head-on. "I'm contemplating why I haven't silenced you yet," she retorted, her tone laced with icy determination.

Draco's lips curled into a sneer. "You should show me the respect I deserve! And why are you holding Potter's arm?" he demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at Harry.

"Because it's comfortable," Daphne shot back, her gaze unwavering. "And unlike your company, Potter's is actually enjoyable."

Draco's arrogance faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of incredulity. "But... my father is arranging a marriage contract between us," he protested, his voice tinged with desperation. "You shouldn't be clinging to Potter; I'm your future husband!"

Daphne's lips quirked into a smirk. "Oh, Malfoy, you're mistaken," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Or perhaps you're just consistently wrong about everything, as usual."

Meanwhile, Harry leaned in to whisper to Tracy, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Looks like Daphne's found her rebellious streak," he mused. "I might be a bad influence on her."

Tracy chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, if that's the case, then I suppose I'm equally guilty," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm certainly not letting you go now."

Daphne, seizing the opportunity to deliver the final blow, turned back to Draco with a triumphant smirk. "You see, Malfoy," she declared, her voice carrying a note of satisfaction, "I happen to have a marriage contract with someone else already. Found out this morning, just before potions class, right before Harry punched you in the face, remember?"

Draco's face flushed crimson with rage, his fists clenching at his sides. "Who?!" he seethed, his voice trembling with fury.

Harry, ever the picture of nonchalance, stepped forward with a casual shrug. "That would be me," he announced, his tone tinged with amusement. "Funny how these things tend to work out, isn't it?"

"Potter! You've stolen my girl!" Draco erupted, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the common room.

Harry leveled a cool gaze at Draco, his words slicing through the tension like a blade. "I don't recall seeing your name engraved on her, Malfoy," he remarked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "And frankly, it's a relief. Wouldn't want to besmirch such perfection with your moniker."

Draco's nostrils flared with anger, but before he could retort, Harry pressed on, his tone laced with defiance. "Oh, what's the matter, Malfoy? Can't handle a little banter?" he taunted. "Or perhaps you're still sore from our last encounter? You know, the one where your face turned redder than a Weasley's hair after I landed a punch?"

Draco's fists clenched at his sides, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you're so clever, Potter? You're nothing but a pathetic loser who doesn't belong in this house."

Harry's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Ah, the classic insult of someone with nothing substantial to say," he quipped. "But let's entertain your little fantasy, shall we? If you're itching for another duel, I'm game. Just know, I won't hold back this time."

Draco's face contorted with rage. "You're a half-blood!" he spat out, as if it were the foulest curse imaginable.

Harry's smirk widened into a grin. "And yet, Slytherin has welcomed many half-bloods into its ranks throughout history," he countered, his voice unwavering. "Some even rose to the ranks of prefects and head boys. As for the Potter family, well, we've had our fair share of Slytherins. Sure, Gryffindor might be the default, but Slytherin runs in our blood too."

Tracy, ever the voice of reason, chimed in with a pointed remark of her own. "Besides, Harry here has displayed more cunning and ambition than any Gryffindor I've ever met," she interjected, her tone firm. "He's played the game like a true Slytherin."

Draco's jaw tightened, his disbelief palpable. "That's preposterous!" he spluttered, his voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.

"Says the boy who throws tantrums like a spoiled child," Daphne shot a disdainful glance at Malfoy. "Since Harry set foot in Hogwarts, he's flourished in nearly every house and garnered allies. Meanwhile, all you've accomplished is yelling, relying on your father's influence, and making life difficult for the rest of us."

"How have I made things difficult?" Malfoy retorted, his tone defensive.

"You've made enemies in every corner of the castle; take Longbottom, for instance," Daphne countered.

"That pathetic squib?" Malfoy scoffed dismissively.

"Malfoy, he's not a squib simply because he's here at Hogwarts," Tracy interjected firmly. "And just because he may not exhibit the same level of magical prowess as you doesn't make him weak. The Longbottoms are an esteemed lineage, and Neville has the potential to surpass you in skill and strength."

"Are you defending your friend now?" Malfoy mocked, a derisive sneer twisting his features.

"Thank you for proving our point, Malfoy," Harry chimed in with a sardonic grin. "You're nothing but a petulant child with a superiority complex. Your behavior is precisely why the rest of the wizarding world looks down upon Slytherin. Instead of fostering alliances, you sow discord. You may hold influence now, but outside these walls, you'd be lost."

Daphne nodded in agreement, her expression resolute. "It's the truth. Strip away your father's name, and what are you left with? Nothing."

"How dare you insult me?!" Malfoy seethed, drawing his wand in a threatening gesture.

But before Malfoy could make a move, Harry's reflexes were faster. With a flick of his wrist, Malfoy's wand flew from his grasp, landing neatly in Harry's left hand, while he held his own wand in his right.

Harry regarded Malfoy with a cool detachment, tossing the wand casually in the air. "Go on, you were saying something?" he prompted, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Give me back my wand!" Malfoy demanded, his face flushing with anger.

Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Which wand?" he quipped, dropping Malfoy's wand to the floor with a nonchalant gesture.

"You'll pay for this, Potter," Malfoy seethed, his voice trembling with rage.

"You'll pay with blood if you threaten me again," Harry warned, his tone steely. "Consider yourself lucky I haven't made you yet. Now, Draco, listen carefully. Stay away from me and my friends. Daphne is my fiancée, and any harassment towards her will be met with consequences. Clear enough for you?"

"Threatening you? No, that was just my way of saying hello," Harry retorted sarcastically. "What did you expect?"

"One day, Potter," Malfoy uttered slowly, his tone dripping with malice, "one day I will make you suffer."

Harry met Malfoy's gaze with a cool resolve. "And on that unfortunate day, I'll have to endure the sight of your ugly mug," he shot back, retrieving Draco's wand from the ground. "Now, unless you've got something worthwhile to say, take your sorry excuse for a wand and leave me be."

With a flick of his wrist, Harry tossed Malfoy his wand, but he remained vigilant, keeping his own wand at the ready. His caution proved wise as Malfoy immediately attempted to cast a hex, only to be swiftly subdued by Harry's stunning spell. Malfoy crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes, prompting Harry to turn to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Would you mind escorting this fool upstairs?" Harry requested calmly. The two hulking figures nodded in silent compliance, hoisting the unconscious Malfoy between them and disappearing up the staircase.

Tracy let out an exaggerated sigh of relief as the tension dissipated, sinking into a nearby chair alongside Harry and Daphne. "Our gallant hero," she remarked with a hint of dramatic flair, observing as the rest of the common room resumed their activities.

"So, about you two being engaged and all," Tracy began, her curiosity piqued. "What's the deal?"

Harry glanced at Daphne, who still clung to his arm, before answering. "Well, it's a bit complicated," he explained. "We only found out today that there's a marriage contract between our families. But I'm not about to force Daphne into anything, so I plan to dissolve it when I turn fourteen."

Tracy raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Really now? But I'm sure Daphne wouldn't mind, would you?" she asked, directing the question to Daphne.

Daphne hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Well, initially I was apprehensive," she admitted. "But if we're bound by this contract, we might as well make the most of it. After all, it won't become official until after we graduate, so we might as well use the time to get to know each other better."

Harry chuckled at Daphne's admission, a playful glint in his eyes. "Is that your way of asking if you can be my girlfriend?" he teased, his tone light-hearted.

Tracy joined in with a playful jab. "Well, it certainly wasn't her way of asking if she could be my girlfriend," she quipped, earning a laugh from the trio.

Daphne squirmed in her seat, her cheeks tinged with a blush. "Um, yes, that's it," she confirmed, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "You want Tracy to be your girlfriend?" he teased, eliciting a bashful giggle from Daphne.

"No!" Daphne exclaimed, her blush deepening. "It's my way of asking if I could be your girlfriend."

Harry's face lit up with a broad grin. "Hell yes!" he exclaimed with genuine joy, his eyes sparkling with affection.

Tracy chuckled at Harry's enthusiastic response. "Wow, he didn't even hesitate," she remarked, amused by the exchange.

"Well, I have to accept before some other idiot snatches her up," Harry quipped with a smirk, earning a playful nudge from Daphne.

"Yeah, now she just has to deal with one idiot," Tracy added with a playful wink.

Harry's grin widened. "Yeah, but I'm her idiot," he declared proudly, causing Daphne to blush even deeper.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" Daphne sighed, though there was a hint of amusement in her tone.

Harry flashed her a mischievous smile. "Oh, don't call on Merlin now," he joked, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "He can't help you anymore."

Daphne shook her head with a smile. "It's going to be a long stay at Hogwarts," she remarked, looking at Harry with a mixture of amusement and fondness.

"A memorable one," Harry replied, his gaze softening as he met her eyes.

The next morning arrived swiftly, and Harry found himself standing outside Snape's office right on time. Together, they flooed to St. Mungo's, Snape guiding him to the ward where his parents resided.

"Harry," Snape spoke up, halting him before they entered. "I'll leave you alone here. How long do you want to stay?"

Harry paused, considering Snape's offer. "Don't you want to come in, sir?" he asked, sensing the man's reluctance. "I don't mind if you do."

Snape shook his head, his expression unreadable. "No, thank you," he declined quietly, his emotions carefully concealed.

"About an hour, please, sir," Harry replied, sensing Snape's discomfort. "I can shorten the visit if it's a problem for you."

Snape shook his head once more. "No, it's not a problem. I'll return in an hour," he stated before turning and walking away, his cloak billowing behind him.

Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed open the door and entered the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. He made his way to the two beds nestled in the right corner, opposite two more occupied by the Longbottoms. Harry's heart twinged with sympathy for Neville and his family; perhaps he'd reach out to him later.

Approaching his parents' beds, Harry studied them intently. They lay under a stasis charm, frozen in time, yet still bearing the familiar features he'd only seen in photographs and his own reflection. His father, tall with brown hair, bore a striking resemblance to Harry himself, or rather, Harry resembled him.

Then his gaze shifted to his mother, her red hair cascading softly around her face. She appeared ethereal, a vision of beauty even in her slumber. Harry pulled up a chair and settled between the beds.

"Hi Mum, hi Dad," Harry began softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's nice to see you, even like this. I'm Harry, your son, in case you've forgotten. I don't even know if you can hear me, but if you can, I want you to know that I love you both dearly and I miss you every day."

He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "Let me fill you in on what's been happening in my life. I'm currently in my first year at Hogwarts, sorted into Slytherin. I hope that's not a problem," he added with a small smile. "My twin brother's a Gryffindor, but he's... well, he's something else. I'd rather not dwell on him right now."

"I'm excelling in all my classes, except for Herbology, but that's Neville Longbottom's specialty, isn't it? Your godson, Mum. He's doing alright, a bit shy, but he's finding his footing," Harry continued, a note of fondness creeping into his voice.

"And then there's this girl, Hermione Granger," Harry said with a rueful chuckle. "She's brilliant, I'll give her that, but she's also insufferable. She's made it her personal mission to outshine me in everything, and when she doesn't, she accuses me of cheating. It's a bit tiresome, to be honest."

"Ah, and let's not forget about Malfoy," Harry added with a smirk. "He struts around like he's Merlin's gift to the wizarding world, but I've put him in his place more times than I can count. I even punched him once, and he tumbled down a flight of stairs," he confessed, his tone tinged with mischief. "I know you'd probably disapprove, but it was worth it."

Harry's expression softened as he reminisced about Hogwarts. "Despite the challenges, I'm really enjoying my time at Hogwarts. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick are still there, as kind and knowledgeable as ever. Did you know Severus Snape is the Potions Master and Slytherin House Head? He's... tolerable, I suppose, though my brother seems to rub him the wrong way," he added with a chuckle.

"Oh, and there's one more thing I almost forgot to mention," Harry continued, his voice taking on a more somber tone. "Since yesterday, I've officially got myself a girlfriend. Her name's Daphne Greengrass, and let me tell you, she's the best-looking Slytherin in the entire school."

He paused for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "We found out we have a marriage contract, believe it or not. But instead of letting it dictate our lives, we've decided to give it a shot and see where it takes us," Harry explained, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"I think she's starting to fall for me, too," he added with a chuckle. "Can't really blame her, after all, I've got the legendary Potter charm working in my favor."

"You'd like her, Mum, Dad," Harry continued, a fondness evident in his voice. "She's got blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and she's absolutely stunning. But beyond that, she's funny and kind, once you get past the Ice Queen facade she puts up. Although, I have to admit, I might have influenced her a bit poorly. Thanks to me, she's discovered sarcasm and cheekiness," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "Merlin help us all."

Harry's expression darkened as he shifted topics. "Now, onto my brother," he began, his voice tinged with bitterness. "The wizarding world sees him as a hero, calling him the Boy Who Lived. It's a ridiculous name, really, considering I've survived too. But that's beside the point. Everyone believes he's responsible for defeating Voldemort, and while that's not entirely false, what irks me is his attitude."

"He's become spoiled and arrogant," Harry continued, his tone growing more impassioned. "He makes no effort and thinks he can coast through life just by virtue of being the Boy Who Lived. Dumbledore's absurdly biased in his favor, so he gets away with treating everyone else as if they're beneath him."

"I don't hold out much hope for him," Harry admitted, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "I wish you could wake up and set him straight, Dad, but alas, that's not possible."

Harry's gaze drifted to the clock, realizing he was running out of time. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, standing up and quickly gathering his belongings. With a glance around the room to ensure he was alone, he approached his parents' beds.

"Sorry, Dad, Mum," Harry murmured softly, conjuring a needle and carefully collecting a small vial of their blood. "I'll be back to visit you again, I promise. I love you both."

After wiping away a stray tear, Harry exited the room and found Snape waiting for him outside. With a nod of acknowledgment, the two made their way back to Hogwarts through the nearest fireplace, returning to Snape's office in a swirl of flames.

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