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"Please," Lacerta waved her hand at Harry as the group sat down, the most recent game still coming up. At least until the next was played. "You knew we'd win. Ravenclaw fields the worst team of us all. They don't have Cedric to make matches winnable, nor somebody of your or my level."
"It wasn't that much of a blowout. Not like when we played them." Harry was confident his was the better team.
Tracey made a noise then. One that was, in his opinion, was universally recognised as that which would be antagonistic from a spectator's point of view.
Lacerta seemed to bite too, be it unknowing or uncaring of her. "We had more points."
"We finished the game quicker."
"We injured more of their players."
Harry and Lacerta bantered back and forth until that final remark, and then Blaise added to the conversation before Harry could counter the words regarding injuries. "We weren't aiming to do so. We're a more physical team, as you've experienced first-hand."
"More physical, yeah?" Harry snorted as he looked around the snakes he was seated with. "That's what you lot call it?"
Daphne looked up from her book with a finger raised. "Tracey and I simply attend the games for the amusement they provide, and the post match celebrations. We're innocent."
Tracey nodded a good half-dozen times at her friend's words. "What she said." As if to emphasize who she was with, Tracey scooched away from Blaise and Lacerta, and sat closer to Greengrass; the girl that'd purposefully sat a bit further away from everybody else on account of loving her personal space.
Harry held in a snicker when he saw Daphne huff, her shoulders falling as Tracey wrapped an arm around her and started in on the book which she was reading… and then he looked back at the two Slytherins which played on their Quidditch team. As soon as he did so, Lacerta opened her mouth as if she'd been waiting to gain back his full attention before speaking.
"We play within the boundaries of the rules, but I suppose we could play a touch less physical, if only to beat you at your own style," Lacerta's eyes, challenge-heavy as they were, sought out Blaise across from her and Harry. "What do you say, Blaise? When next we play Gryffindor should we show them how to play a 'proper' game of Quidditch?"
"I believe we should."
Harry raised a brow at their theatrics. "You know, at least since I've been on the team, the record is very much in our favour. We could go to the bo—"
"Ouch." Tracey cut him off before he could make mention of the statistics as logged. "He raises a good point."
"He does." Daphne agreed. "Maybe he could teach Lacerta how to fly better."
Lacerta shot a murderous look Daphne's way, but that look very quickly switched to Tracey, who continued where Greengrass had left off and took it even farther. "They'd be so cute together in the sky. Harry could hold her from behind and show — I'll stop, I'll stop. No need for wands amongst friends."
As Tracey had continued to ramble, Lacerta had seen fit to whip out her wand and aim it at the other girl. It seemed to have the desired effect though, given the former had stopped her little image she'd been painting in the minds of the others.
"Wonderful," Lacerta slid back her wand into the holster she wore upon her right forearm. She looked around then, at the very empty plates of her friends, and then to the greater area around them; she looked displeased during the latter glance. "Why don't we make for the halls? It's grown… busy here."
Given that the Slytherins oft fancied eating earlier, or later than the others when given the chance, Harry wasn't surprised with Lacerta's request to leave. Neither she nor those who oft made up her company were particularly fond of the noise and actions those from other houses oft made or did.
He reckoned that was no small part of the reason why the others didn't usually like Slytherins.
But as for Harry? Well, he quite liked the peacefulness of their group. He hadn't noticed the difference before he'd spent time with them, and whilst he didn't do so often — he had to balance schoolwork and time with Hermione and Ron — he had to admit, his most peaceful moments of the year had been in their company.
In Gryffindor Tower, there was a whole nother attitude.
Harry was yanked from his comparison of his two friend groups when he felt a hand, soft and cool, yank on one of his. When he followed the hand up, he saw the visage of Lacerta peering down at him with a brow raised and a few strands of hair errantly hanging about. The others were already headed in the direction of the archway that'd see them from the Great Hall, but she'd not gone alongside them.
"Aren't you coming?"
He blinked at those words of hers and stood suddenly. As he did so, it forced the pair closer together than they'd been since they'd hugged… but he had to admit, sans the contact, it felt awkward. Like they shouldn't stand that close. He wasn't sure how to put it to words, but he took a step back and stood a bit taller. "Yeah," he coughed, clearing his throat to make his voice that which it usually was, and not strange as it'd sounded. "Yeah, I'm coming."
Lacerta raised a brow at him, and then she slipped an arm through his, looping the two together in that old-fashioned way the adults oft did with one another. When he shot a look her way at doing so in the midst of the Great Hall, that aforementioned brow rose higher.
Evidently, she'd not be dissuaded from doing as she desired.
And so the duo walked out not far behind their companions.
Lacerta and Harry caught up with the others not long after they'd made their way from the Great Hall. Blaise, Daphne and Tracey had waited for them after the first turn which would see them on the path to the staircases; the revolving sort, not the stationary ones. The latter wasn't any fun to use.
"So… Harry, you're inviting us to your upcoming game, right?" Tracey was the one to break the relative silence the five had been walking in.
No surprise there.
He looked her way for a few seconds, and then regarded Daphne and Lacerta. The former, he'd sat with at the Slytherin game and the latter, the one that'd all but ensured he'd go along and watch her play. When each was looking at him, he nodded, feeling the pressure of their stares. "Sure."
"Sure what?" Daphne picked up where usually Tracey might.
"Sure, I'll invite you lot to the Gryffindor game?" Harry thought it'd been obvious.
Lacerta blinked at him. "Where're you inviting me?"
Harry huffed at her, but repeated himself one last time. "I'm inviting you to the next Gryffindor match, yeah? The one with Ravenclaw — reckon the lot of you can wear some Gryffindor colours since I wore something Slytherin."
Tracey whispered something to Daphne, and then Daphne repeated or said something of her own to Lacerta shortly thereafter. Harry wasn't sure what it was that'd been said, but he wasn't given much time to ponder either before Lacerta dipped her head and responded. "I'll accept your invitation and something in the colours of Gryffindor. How kind," she looked him over, and then she blinked, seemingly remembering something. "Oh, Harry."
"Yeah?" He was happy he hadn't needed to repeat himself a fourth time and seized the chance to continue the conversation; he still wasn't sure why the three witches had needed to hear his answer three times.
"My Mother would like you to write to her whenever you have a spare moment to do so, and no, I don't know why," Lacerta had predicted his question, and answered it before so much as a syllable thereof had been said aloud. "She only told me that it wasn't anything of importance, so you needn't rush off. Naturally, I asked to see if she'd tell me what she desired, but she was far from forthcoming — it was horrible. I hate not knowing something."
"Don't we all?" Daphne echoed the sentiment, but Tracey snorted.
"I like not knowing stuff."
Blaise looked over his shoulder from where he was leading the group, more oft content in their presence alone than joining the conversations they had. "You only like not knowing something because it bothers Daphne or Lacerta so much."
Tracey's response was as Tracey-like as Harry had heard thus far. "That's still a reason for liking not knowing stuff, thank you."
Harry blinked, but shook his head. "I'll write to her tonight."
Lacerta opened her mouth so as to give an answer, but she couldn't do so. Not over the screams that sounded from up ahead; and what screams they were. Loud, blood-curdling and shrill, they echoed through the halls.
Without so much as a look at the Slytherins with whom he was walking, Harry tore off in the direction of the yells. His wand was already in his hand as he followed the source of the noise to the very location which the group had been heading to; the revolving staircases. Thereon, and by the entrance to Gryffindor tower was a huge crowd gathered. Prefects and Professors were already present, as were many a student whom the former two groups tried to herd away.
As they did so, the view of Gryffindor tower's entrance was made clear to Harry and when he took it in, he blinked.
There were huge gashes across the painting which normally housed the fat lady, and as for the fat lady herself… she was gone. Harry saw no sign of her in the portrait that oft housed her. As he looked around the place, he noticed it wasn't just hers that seemed empty either. There were dozens of the things that seemed sans any sign of activity.
It was the strangest sight he'd yet seen at Hogwarts.
Harry started forth, intent on learning what he could, but that was stopped after nary a few steps when a hand came to rest upon his shoulder. When he jolted and turned to look at the person that'd touched him, he saw Lacerta. The others weren't too far behind her, catching up to them with the pace of a jog.
"Are you daft?" Lacerta demanded, her hold of him tightening. "You just went and ran off to the sound of somebody screaming. What if there'd been danger?"
With a nod, he indicated toward his wand, withdrawn as it still was. "I wasn't super worried."
"You should be. There's a mass murderer still on the loose." Tracey's words were echoed by Daphne, albeit with actions and not with words as the other blonde girl of the group withdrew a copy of the Prophet from her satchel with Sirius Black's face thereon.
"It's very like it was him again," The words came from Blaise, who was standing at the far back of the group as he peered over the heads of Daphne and Tracey, to where Harry had been looking. "We'll soon find out."
Harry very nearly asked the other boy what he meant by that.
But Tracey did him a solid, albeit unknowingly, as she nodded and added more to his words. "Yeah we will," she looked Harry's way. "You and your Gryffindor friends always have something to say to a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, and that usually gets around to us not too long after. Funny how that works, isn't it?"
Lacerta pulled on Harry's shoulder and then let her hand slide down so as to capture one of his own, whereupon doing so, she restored the loop their arms had previously formed. From there, she pulled him back and away from the revolving staircases. "Let the Professors make sure it's safe first. We have the time to wait — you can even have the privilege of helping me with Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Privilege, is it?" Harry rose a brow as the others snickered around them.
From there, the group of five went back whence they'd come earlier, at least a bit of the way, until they found an empty, peaceful room. Harry and Blaise had been volunteered to go first, wands out, in the event this was the place Sirius Black had hidden away in. But after a quick look over the room around them, the two boys were able to tell not only was Sirius not present, it seemed like very few people in general had stumbled across the unused space; it was dusty, old-smelling and save for a few tattered tomes, void of items that one might use in the studying of magic.
It was almost like taking a peek back into the olden days of Hogwarts, given the older furniture and different feel the room possessed.
The girls came in behind him and Blaise then, the two boys having been peeking around the place, interesting as it seemed to be.
Tracey, immediate as it was, wrinkled her nose and sought out her wand. In an instant, she was muttering incantation after incantation, and so Harry watched as the windows to the room opened and the dust was done away with altogether. The stale air began to be rejuvenated as a steady breeze filtered through the room, and the other surfaces that were dirty including the benches which they'd use for a short time were also clean as they'd once been.
And so the group sat near to one another; Lacerta by Harry's side, had immediately withdrawn her DADA book, intent on getting some assistance whilst they waited for the happenings elsewhere to calm.
Harry reckoned he'd allow her to use his brain so long as she'd return the favour in regards to Potions.
Nearly an hour after the group had first stumbled across the scene, Harry found his way back to Gryffindor Tower — he did so alone… mostly alone. The Slytherins had only followed him to roughly the point which they'd first stopped, when the lot of them had taken in the shredded painting together. It seemed none of them were particularly keen on going further given the number of Gryffindors and others that seemed to hang around the area.
They'd gone to the dungeons once they — Lacerta — was certain all was good and well. There was, naturally, a promise to speak with them on the morrow, and first thing thereon so they could find out what he knew. He'd made them swear much the same, given they were Slytherins and talk always had a way of reaching them.
Harry, after peering at a few still-empty portraits, shook his head and went into Gryffindor Tower proper, his feet carrying him to the centre of the common room. It was in that spot he saw a crowd near the fireplace. One that, even by Gryffindor standards, was quite large. When Harry spotted Ron in the middle of it all, he sought the other boy out with nary a thought.
When Harry made it to the edge of the aforementioned crowd, it was then he heard the words which his friend was saying. "I did, but I was bloody-well scared the whole while. You've seen him in the photos — he had dark hair, barking-mad eyes and a stink about him like Crabbe or Goyle. Thought I was dead, I did, but he was looking for something. He was unfocused, and so I started yelling like you lot heard. He tore off then."
Another voice, Seamus, spoke up then. "Was that before or after the fat lady got turned into minced paint?"
Ron shrugged and pulled a face. "Couldn't tell you. I only saw him digging around before he ran off, muttering and cursing. Scabbers seemed right scared too. Think he's still asleep on my bed now."
More questions welled up then, with a few even polite enough to ask about that little aforementioned rat of Ron's.
As for Harry, as the noise grew louder he dove deeper into the depths of his mind. Ron had stumbled across Sirius Black in Gryffindor Tower, and likely after the man had sliced the Fat Lady. Harry wondered how the man knew where the entrance was, or what specifically he was looking for during the extent of his search.
For some reason, a deep, sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach; the man could be looking for Harry. He was a follower of Voldemort's, after all. One that'd had a part in the death of his parents.
He turned away from the crowd then, intent on seeking out his bed. He'd fit whatever studying he needed to do there, atop the sheets of his mattress. That worked well enough for him.
The next morning saw Harry rise earlier than he oft did on account of sleep coming earlier the previous night. Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean and just about all the rest of Harry's house were still fast asleep, with few awake and alert so early on; this was the hour of Snakes and Eagles more so than Badgers or Lions.
That wasn't to say nobody from Gryffindor was awake so early on though. No, as Harry made to leave Gryffindor Tower altogether, and in favour of the Great Hall for an early meal and gossip with his Slytherin friends, he saw a few others present on the couch. Katie, Alicia and Angelina. With the fireplace going before them and the faint sounds he heard, the trio seemed to be enjoying a little snack as they woke up together.
When the formermost, Katie, glanced his way as he'd walked, she gave him a little wave. Alicia and Angelia did much the same, happy to keep the peaceful silence save for the crackling of wood as it burned in the hearth before them; the warmth was so strong even Harry felt a pull to go back to sleep. He shook that off after standing still for a few seconds' time and returned the wave whilst adding to it a smile.
After that little morning exchange, he headed out the Gryffindor entrance, past the Prefects standing watch and the portraits chatting with them. When first he'd gone off, it had been two Professors standing watch — he supposed with it being morning and all, the Prefects with emptier schedules than any Hogwarts Staff made sense. Many ofttimes had multiple blocks with nary a thing to do.
He couldn't wait for that period of time at Hogwarts.
Harry could but imagine how nice it'd be to sleep in, to wake up late and go to breakfast later still with nary a concern about a class missed. It'd be right glorious, he imagined. That little flurry of thoughts saw him all the way to the Great Hall's entrance, all the while he dreamt of more sleep, and less time spent in a classroom being narrated to.
Mayhaps he was a bad student, but the theory and words that made mention of magic, even the history thereof, wasn't all that interesting to him. No, Harry far preferred it when the time came to practise with wands out; it was then he'd shine and give the utmost attention that he could to the Professor rather than day dream.
He shook his head at the thoughts of Professor Binns' class especially. It was one that many students slept through… if they attended at all.
As he took his first few steps into the Great Hall, he found his eyes seeking out the closer end of the Slytherin table almost automatically — they'd have done the same for Gryffindor, were more than a handful of people sat there. At the former table where nearly three dozen of his peers were already sat, he found those whom he spent his time with near their typical spot.
In an instant, his feet carried him their way, whereupon reaching that empty spot between Lacerta and Blaise, he slid into the seat. He was greeted by the visages and quiet words of those sat round; Tracey, Daphne, Blaise and Lacerta herself. There was another that'd acknowledged him too — two really, if you counted a stiff nod.
Pansy and Millicent. The two were 'friends' of Lacerta. He liked them to Crabbe and Goyle, if not by looks by how they acted as followers ofttimes to Lacerta. Come to think of it, they'd not been as prevalent as the other three had since his time with the Malfoys.
"Well?" Lacerta was the first to speak past the niceties offered. "What'd you find out?"
There was no mincing words or wasting time, was there? Harry nearly snickered, he would have too, were she a morning person rather than a person who but rose in the morning. "Sirius Black was in Gryffindor Tower searching for something. Ron scared him off by yelling. Seems to me he found out where the entrance was and cut it open to get inside."
The Slytherins exchanged glances with one another upon the conclusion of his words.
"A Weasley scared him off?" Lacerta snorted. "And one of the youngest."
"He's our age."
"We're young." Lacerta waved Harry off before he responded again. "Had he wished him harm, he'd have done so. How peculiar."
Harry wasn't very fond of such thoughts, so he shrugged. "Reckon we can't ever understand how people like Sirius Black think," he nodded at her then, and he followed up by looking around at the others to boot. "What about all of you? Did you learn anything?"
"The Fat Lady was hiding in another portrait. She sai—" Daphne, who'd begun to answer his question, was cut off by Tracey who spoke far faster, and far more animatedly. Seriously, with how oft she waved her hands about, Harry had started to wonder if she was Italian like Blaise.
"She said that Sirius gave the Gryffindor password, but she denied him access! Can you believe that?" Tracey looked around, seemingly ignoring or not noticing Daphne's distinctly annoyed expression. "One of your housemates was very bad. I wouldn't be surpris— ouch, Daph. You pinched me."
"I'll pinch you again if you cut me off," Daphne shook her head and shot a look Harry and Lacerta's way. "As Tracey said, he knew the password to gain entry. I'd expect it to be changed this evening, if it hasn't been already. Additionally, he was rumoured to have, once again, made his escape."
Harry rose a brow. "How do you know?"
"Her dad's on Hogwarts' board too," Lacerta said, continuing when Harry shot her look that said that wasn't much of an explanation. "He's able to speak with her and send missives by way of a house elf, whereas most others have to wait for an Owl or courier."
Oh.
"That's wicked." Harry reckoned it was a bit cheaty too, but if that'd help him, he didn't much care.
"It is," Daphne agreed with a small smile, polite and demure. "If you'd ever like something made of chocolate or a gift for the holidays, I'll have it brought for you."
Lacerta was quick to offer much the same, and Tracey simply giggled.
Harry hadn't a clue as to why that was, but thanked the pair all the same and moved to another topic altogether. That of the upcoming Quidditch match — he'd brought something in his satchel for that very game.
"Here," he took out the Gryffindor-style scarf he'd had cleaned and folded. "For the game, yeah? I think it was a scarf you'd wanted, right?"
Across the table, he heard Tracey make a noise that was squeak-like before she covered her mouth. He blinked at her, and it was as he was doing so that Lacerta grabbed his hands with one of her own, deftly taking the scarf whilst remaining dead silent.
She was redder than she'd been in a very long while.