The two teams took their places on the field, Gryffindor in their scarlet jackets and black pants, Slytherin in their green and silver. It was colder then it was this same time last year, but the Gryffindors were prepared. Harry had been working his team to the bone any time he had the chance, following Wood's way of training.
It was the first Quidditch match of the year, and the players were buzzing with anticipation. The air was filled with an electric charge, and the crowd was on their feet, cheering and chanting. Magic fireworks shattered above, courtesy of the Weasley twins he had taken the day off to come watch Ron play.
Harry looked at Ron, sighing. He knew that slipping in the fake vile of Felix Felicis into Ron's drink was wrong, but his friend looked so confident! Hermione hadn't approved, but she still came to the game, sitting in the stands with a book to read.
The match began, and Harry immediately took off, his broom flying like an arrow through the sky. The Slytherin team was quick to follow, but Harry was faster, his agility and skill unmatched. The three chasers, Ginny, Demelza Robins, and Tyler Spinny shot off as well, instantly taking the ball and heading over the the Slytherin goal posts. The Gryffindors cheered, Tyler passing the ball over to Ginny.
Harry would have liked Katie to be apart of his team for this first match, but after what Malfoy had done to her, the poor girl likely wouldn't play the rest of the year.
Harry ducked, avoiding a bludger coming right for his head. The teams youngest beater, a third year named Ritchie Coote, hit the ball back towards the Slytherin goal post, their keep flying out of the way to avoid being hit. Ginny scored.
"Good hit, Ritchie!" Harry called out, flying around. He needed to keep his head on the game.
Thirty minutes in the game, Gryffindor ahead by thirty points, Harry called the first time out. As the team flew down, Demelza cried out, and Harry watched as a beater brought her and her broom straight to the ground, snapping both the broom and her arm. Harry cursed, Ginny and Ron screaming at one of the Slytherin beaters as he grinned cockily. They only had three players on the bench, non of which were chasers. Damn it!
"Hooch, you have to do something!" Harry said, storming up to her, the Slytherin captain Edward Beaumon storming up with him. "You know that was a cheap shot!"
"Potter, my beater was already hitting the bludger when you called your stupid half time!"
"Boys!" Hooch yelled out, stopping an argument from breaking out. "We don't have- just pick another player, Potter! Beuamon, bench Higginsworth."
Both boys stomped over to their respective teams, Ginny trying to talk to a fuming Harry. She didn't have much luck, Harry walking over to Dean, Cormac McLaggen, and Albert Montgomery.
"Which one of you wants to try your hand at being a chaser? We don't have time for this." Dean raised his hand, standing up with his broom.
"I've got it, Harry."
"Good."
After a brief meeting, mostly to tell them to score over defend, the teams were back up into the air.
This time, Harry was going to play dirty too.
As he flew up into the air, he began diving randomly, swirving around and spinning like he was looking for a snitch. Malfoy followed, looking far too calm for someone that had just injured a fellow student. It made Harry's blood boil.
Fourty more minutes into the game, Slytherin and Gryffindor were tied, 90-90. That's when Harry finally spotted the snitch, flying up.
Sadly, Malfoy followed him too, and the two boys were neck in neck, Malfoy slamming his broom against Harry's own to throw him off course.
"What, trying to kill Katie wasn't enough for you?" Harry jabbed, pushing his broom forward. "Want to be a real killer now?"
Malfoy's face turned furious, as they raced, dipping down and feinting left and right. Malfoy watched Potter, and Potter watched the snitch.
"You don't have the balls to be a murderer, Malfoy." Harry told him, fingers moments away from the snitch. Malfoy yelled, smacking his broom into Harry's, knocking them both to the ground. In a last ditch effort, Harry grabbed Malfoys nimbus with a shout, and the two boys tumbled down, wind racing against their faces. Malfoy screamed, Harry didn't have the strength to. He clenched his fists, grabbing onto the blonde as they inched closer and closer to the ground.
Magical surrounded them, both boys gasping as they were saved and slowly brought back to the earth. Dumbledore lowered his wand, giving them a hard stare as they used each other to stand up straight. Harry raised his hand up, clutching a small ball in his fingertips.
Gryffindor had won.
The crowds erupted into applause and cheers, shouting Harry's- and surprisingly Ron's- name as both teams flew down and dismounted off of their brooms. Malfoy pushed off Harry, stumbling as he walked away. Harry's Firebolt slowly fell to the ground, swaying as if someone was still flying it. Harry didn't see Malfoys.
Serves the git right if it broke, Harry thought to himself. He was surprised though. He didn't think Malfoy had the guts to knock him off his broom like that. If he didn't hate the bastard, he'd be a little impressed.
"Harry, we won!" Ron called out, shaking his shoulders in excitement. He leaned in closer, whispering in Harry's ear "You gotta brew some more of that stuff, if you can. I feel great!"
"Ron, Ron, Ron." Harry said as laughter bubbled up. "I didn't add anything. That was just water."
"What?" Ron sounded confused. Harry patted his shoulder with a smile, the team walking to the locker rooms.
"That game? All you, mate." Ron seemed lost for words, making random sounds of confusion as the team changed, laughing and cheering as they all headed back to the common room for a Gryffindor party.
"Hey, that was a good game, Harry." Ginny told him, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I had a question-"
Loud "WOOP!" And other cries made their way around the common room, people cheering. Harry pushed his way through the crowd, locking eyes with Neville as they watched Ron be snogged senseless by Lavender Brown. Neville and Harry both cheered, happy their friend was finally getting the attention he truly deserved. Neville called him over, waving an ice cold bottle of butterbeer, which Harry happily walked towards.
Ginny and Hermione had both stormed out, not that anyone noticed. The team partied long and hard, chanting "Weasley is our king!" The whole night through. After a while, McGonagall came in and shut down the party, giving them a stern talking-to. Her grin gave away her feelings though, and the party continued for an hour afterwards.
Eventually, everyone settled into bed, all smiles and laughs and full of happiness and cheer. Once he was sure everyone had gone to bed, Harry pulled out his potions book.
Sectumsempra the page said. For enemies. Harry had plenty of enemies. Maybe he could use it against Malfoy?
"You're attached to that book, aren't you?" Neville said, sticking his head through Harry's curtains. Harry rolled his eyes, bringing his legs in as Neville took a seat. "Anyways, I learned the spell to copy it."
"How?" Harry asked, passing him the book, albeit reluctantly.
"Hermione." He said, casting the spell Gemino. He passed Harry back his original copy.
"Really? I'm surprised she taught it to you."
"I told her it was for a Herbology book of Professor Sprouts. That I didn't want to take a professor's book, even when offered." Neville said slyly, cheeks going a little pink.
"You lied to Hermione?" Harry said, shocked. "Mr LongBottom, have you gone dark?" Neville shoved at Harry, both laughing softly. Eventually, Neville's curiosity got to him, and his question was blurted out.
"Why'd Malfoy knock you off your broom?"
"I told him he didn't have the balls to commit murder."
Harry wasn't prepared for Slughorn's Christmas party. Sure, he was dressed the part thanks to Neville, who was sadly only going as a waiter, but he felt odd.
Harry wasn't this prodigious child Slughorn had made him out to be. He was a cheat, using the Half-Blood Princes' book to get by in class. "Get by" was an understatement. He was finally at the top of his class! Finally, he shone in a class that wasn't defence! If it took cheating to do that, well, Harry honestly didn't mind.
Honestly? He couldn't care less. Plenty of students cheated, hell, Ginny had cheated on her charms homework many times! Harry wasn't different from them.
"Harry, come on, you wanted to get there early, right?" Neville said, fixing his tie. Harry nodded, following him down the steps and into the hallway.
"Why are you even putting in all of this effort?" Neville asked, curious.
"Dumbledore. He wants me to retrieve the real memory of an event."
"What do you mean?"
"Apparently, actually not apparently, I saw the memory, anyways, Slughorn gave Dumbledore a fake memory of a conversation he had with Tom Riddle." He leaned in closer, letting his voice soften as he whispered into Neville's ear. "Dumbledore thinks Slughorn told Tom about the Horcruxes."
"Seriously?" Neville asked, bewildered. "How?"
"Tom was a student who was very close to Slughorn; almost like a son. Dumbledore says Slughorn would have adopted Tom if he could have." Harry shrugged, turning a corner as he fixed his tie.
"The more you learn," Neville said, seemingly out of it. He shook his head, hand sliding over his hair to fix the slicked-back look of it. Neville had wanted to slick Harry's hair back as well, but with its length and his scar, we figured it would have looked stupid. "So Dumbledore thinks you could get it?"
"Yeah, he said something about 'Horace seeing the similarities' or whatever."
"Awful luck."
Harry snorted.
"You're telling me?" The pair laughed, walking into the mostly empty, expanded classroom by Slughorn's rooms. There weren't many other students there, mostly waiters and helpers like Neville, all dressed in fancy pseudo-server outfits. Provided by Slughorn, of course.
"Ah, Harry! Neville! Wonderful to see you! Neville, if you could head over to the table over there, Miss Griffin should be able to help you with what you need to do."
"Got it, by Harry."
"Bye Nev!" Harry told him, flashing his best smile at Slughorn.
Shouldn't he feel guilty for this? He was essentially- no he couldn't even sugarcoat it, he was manipulating his teacher. A teacher who held Harry in such high regard! They were even casual with each other! Was he wrong for doing this?
Was he even more like Tom than he originally thought?
"Harry, how have you been? Enjoying yourself as of late?"
"Yes sir, I have! Me and Neville have been working on a lot of spell research recently!" Harry told him, flashing a smile. At least he could be honest.
"Whatever for?" Slughorn asked, leading Harry inside and away from the doorway.
"I've gotten into spell creation as of late. It's very… interesting." Sue him, he couldn't think of a better word.
"It is indeed! Why an old student of mine used to come up with spell ideas at the drop of a hat! Most were already invented of course, but he had a few very interesting ones himself. You may have heard of the paraphrase spell, or even its quill variant?"
Harry thought for a moment, nodding slowly. He had seen something similar to that when out in Hogsmeade,
"He created it! Dear Nowit Nesses, such a smart lad." Slughorn passed him a champagne flute, Harry taking a gingerly sip. It was sweet and bubbly, he liked it. "Say, can I ask you a bit of a personal question?"
"Go right ahead, sir."
"Are you and Neville…" Slughorn trailed on, looking between the two boys. "It's alright if you are, I am not prejudiced at all!" He rushed to add.
"Are we together, sir?" Slughorn nodded his head. "No, we're just friends. Best friends, more like brothers really. Last years Christmas gifts even have us, Ron too, labelled as brothers."
"God lads," Slughorn told him, patting him on the shoulder. "Not that there's anything wrong with it of course, but," Harry, only half listening, let the man talk on and on as he watched other patrons enter and exit the room. A few Slytherins, Flora and Hestia Crow, dates to Blaise and Knott respectfully. Two Puffs, Susan Bones and her date, Ernie Macmillan. Susan was the only actual Hufflepuff member, which the redheaded girl openly flaunted. A few Ravenclaws, Kevin Entwhistle, Padma Patil (who had brought her sister as her date) Terry Boot, and their dates Harry didn't know the names of.
A few Gryffindors flooded in, fashionably late as ever, consisting of Dean Thomas with Ginny as his date, Hermione with Cormac McLaggen as her date, and Sophie Roper, a mysterious girl Harry only knew by name.
"Harry! You look so good!" Hermione told him, walking over to him and giving him a deep once-over. Harry laughed, shaking his head.
"Compliment Neville, he's the one who made it work."
"I didn't know he was so into fashion." Ginny told them. "I thought he was avoiding it like the plague."
"'Mione got him into these male magazines, both muggle and wizard. He takes a lot of inspiration from them." Harry explained to her, laughing when Hermione tried to defend herself, only to stop short with a soft blush.
"Well, they're good magazines!" Hermione said, glancing around. "Where's Ron, Harry? I thought he was your date?"
"He was making out with Lavender when we left. Should be coming later. Hey Hermione." Neville said, holding a platter of delicious pink champagne, greeting them. Harry gladly grabbed one, drinking some of it before setting it down on the table next to him. "I'm technically Harry's date tonight."
"Are you two…" Ginny trailed on, looking between them.
"No! Bloody hell, first Granny, now you?"
"At least you got her, I got Dumbledore and Slughorn!" Harry told him, the pair laughing at the shocked looks on their faces. It's like they weren't expecting the two boys to be so okay with it. After a quick goodbye, Neville began walking over to the other guests, offering drinks and smiles. Harry was glad he was out of his shell, at least for the most part.
Not even a moment's peace later, Slughorn was back on Harry like a vulture.
"Harry! Come meet this old friend of mine, F. T. Hisheet! He's from the islands in America, you know! Very interested in your spell making habits.
"Coming, sir. Be back later." Harry told the two girls, Hermione silently fuming while Ginny watched him go.
"What's your problem?" Ginny asked her, grabbing a sweet from one of the other waiters.
"Harry! It's just- that book is such a problem!" She mused, face turning red as she vented to her friend. "If he had just given it up like I said, he wouldn't be filled with "spell creation" ideas!"
"Hermione, you do know that spells have to be created, right?"
"Well yes, but-"
"And some of the runes you use are as recent as the past twenty years?"
"Yes, but-"
"And Ron has been praised for starting the process of creating and finding new runes?"
"Its not the same!" She almost shouted, flushing as she lowered her voice. "Harry is cheating, and everyone knows it. And he's being all close with Slughorn for no reason!"
"Trust me, Hermione. He has a reason." Ginny told her, giving her a quick side hug. "He'll probably tell you soon, I bet you."
"Yeah, you're right." SHe told the girl, rubbing a hand over her face. "Maybe I'm just jealous."
"Oh, definitely." Ginny told her, Hermione sending her an offended look. "Oh hey, there's Susan! Susan!"
And Ginny ran off, leaving Hermione alone once more. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair and downing the rest of her hair.
That's when she saw it. A woman, older, dressed fully in pink.
Her skin turned pale white, like a vampire was suckling the blood right through her eyes. Her skin felt too tight, too loose, too hot, too cold. Her breathing quickened, each breath like the chattering of a skeletal carriage, rolling down the side of a gravel road. Her hands tightened into fists, her nails digging into her skin. It hurt, it truly hurt. Yet it didn't stop.
Her mind began to flash horrible images behind her eyelids, showing her every detail as she watched it happen over and over again, like she normally did. Every night.
Umbridge's scream rang silent in the room, but deafening in her eyes. A hand came up, covering her ears as she tried to force her legs to move. She needed to get out of here. She was in the middle of the room! Yet everything kept spinning, as if the world was a hare, and she was damned to be the turtle.
"-ey…out of….okay?" She heard mumbling next to her, a long arm wrapping its way around her shoulders. Her feet wouldn't move, but the person holding her was patient, and she tentatively took her first step, then another.
"-ats it, okay? Good job…." Her feet moved, each step a horrid reminder. Her mind battled the wayward thoughts, trying as hard as she could to make one coherent non-screaming thought.
Was God taking punishment on her now? She didn't even believe in God! And it wasn't like she forgot about that. Her every sleeping moment was filled with nightmares.
"'S all good, come on." A large hand rubbed her back, small circles mixed with loose shapes and quiet moments. "Breath, 'Mione."
Breathe? Hermione could do that. It was easy, in and out, just like that, yeah, good lungs. Huffs of breath slowly left her body only to be brought in again. She tried breathing through her nose, but every intake sounded horrible with how snotty she was.
Slowly her eyes unclenched, her nails leaving her palms with little resistance. The hand kept making circles on her back, and she realised they were sitting down. Her legs felt like jelly, her palms stinging and her head suddenly pounding.
"Hermione?" The voice said softly, the hand on her back stilling. "You alright?"
Her eyes slowly opened, turning to her right to see who was helping her.
"Ron?" She whispered, lips parting in surprise. "It was you?"
"Always the tone of surprise." He joked softly. His hand still rubbed on her back. "You were just standing there when I showed up to the party. Are you alright?"
"Yeah." She said, voice firm, only for her to sniffle and bring her prickling legs to her chest. "No, no I'm not."
"Do you wanna talk about it?" He questioned. Hermione shook her head.
"No, I don't, I can't, you'll-" She paused, picking her words carefully. "You'd hate me."
"Okay," Ron said simply, hand still moving, turning from soft rubs to his fingers tracing triangles and squares. "But I promise, I wouldn't hate you."
"You don't even know what I've done."
"Can't be worse than Harry at the ministry." He stated, voice tight. "But it's up to you."
Hermione didn't say anything for a few moments, using her finger to copy the shapes Ron was tracing on her. It was relaxing, just sitting together like this.
Her heart squeezed a little, but she ignored it.
"I killed Umbridge." She finally admitted. "I brought her to the centaurs and…"
"Bitch had it coming," Ron said, not even flinching. Heroine shook her head fiercely
"She did but still I- and she-" A hand flew to her face. "She hurt me, she hurt all of you, and yet…"
Wet, steaming tears rolled down her face as she blinked. Ron's hand slid from her back to her shoulder, pulling her into his side as he said nothing, thumb rubbing her arm. He said nothing as she sobbed into him, each cry heavier than the last.
"I can still feel where the blood splattered on me!" She cried out, tucking her head into his shoulder. Ron used her hand to tuck her face from his arm. They shared a long look, Hermione's wet brown eyes staring into his warm blue.
And then Ron rubbed his hand all over her face.
"There, just remember where my hand was instead, yeah?" He said, as if that would solve her every issue.
She couldn't help but laugh, the tear tracks drying as she watched Ron grin, loud and proud as she calmed down.
"That was foul." She admitted, leaning back into his shoulder.
"But it worked, right?" She could hear him grinning. "You're not crying anymore."
No, no she wasn't.
Inside the party, Harry faked another laugh as Slughorn introduced him to yet another person, his pockets filling with contact information and business cards. They would be useful later in life, probably, but it's not like Harry needed a magical baker or chef, at least not at sixteen! Hell, even later in life, he could cook for himself, and if he didn't want to, a house elf could!
The thought of house elves filled Harry's mouth with a nasty taste. Although he was grateful for Dobby, any reminder of Kreacher made him want to curse; both literally and verbally.
"Ah, Harry, I must say, I never thought you of much an entertainer, but my old friends enjoy your wit!"
"Thank you, professor," Harry told him, preening (just a little!) with pride. "I learned from the best, after all." Harry gave Slughorn a pointed look, the older man laughing and patting him on the back.
Harry hated himself at this moment.
"Horace. Mr Potter." Snape drawled, coming up to the pair, and eyeing Harry curiously. "I hope I am not interrupting?"
"Not at all, Severus! You're always welcome to join in. Are you enjoying yourself?" Horace asked. Snape nodded, looking around the room.
"Indeed. I only stopped by to check where my…students are, and I have made sure to find them all." Horace laughed, turning away to look at the room. Harry caught Snape's eye, and the man nodded at him, confusing the life out of him. SNapes half-neutral line scowled a little, and Harry's ears turned pink in embarrassment. Oh, Snape must have been looking for him too.
"PROFESSOR SLUGHORN!" A booming voice called, interrupting them all. The music lowered slightly, with most of the guests looking around. The three men walked closer to the front, just in time to watch Filch storm into the party room, holding a seething Draco Malfoy by the collar. Harry's eyes widened for a moment before a smirk found its way to his lips.
And Snape promptly cuffed him over the head.
Watch it. Snape mouthed at him, eyes set in his signature glare. Slughorn and Snape made their way to the front of the class, Snape sneering (as he usually did) and Slughorn looking worried.
"Sirs, caught this one moving around in the dark, you see."
"I was invited! Just trying to get back in." No one said anything, everyone was silent. Slughorn gave a soft shake of his head, and Malfoy sneered. "Fine! I was gate crashing!"
"Mr Malfoy, I can't believe this, I-"
"Do not worry, Professor Slughorn," Snape began, narrowing his eyes at the blonde. "I shall deal with my…wayward student. Release him." Filtch scoffed, but let go of Malfoy with a hard nudge.
Snape walked towards him, leaving Harry's side. His hand brushed calmly on Harry's shoulder, a small squeeze, a nod, and a quiet "Move, Potter," before he grabbed Draco's shoulder and fragged him out of the room.
Draco's eyes were wide, and never left Harry's shocked own.
Had Snape just- Harry didn't even know! What was that for? And Malfoy had seen? What was happening!?
Harry needed to find out.
"Well, this is still a party, non?" Slughorn said with an awkward laugh. "Music!"
Chatter instantly started up, along with the music, and Harry made his way out of the classroom. He hadn't seen Ron or Hermione come back in yet, and Neville was serving, so he had to do this on his own.
Right, wouldn't be the first time.
Harry slipped out of the room with ease, giving small waves to previous people he talked too, and nods to some of his friends he saw in passing. Easy enough to get out of there.
Now to find them-
"I don't need you! This task was given to me!" He heard a voice yell. Malfoy. The shush after it belonged to Snape. Found them easily enough. Harry crept along the hallway, sticking close to the wall, what was Malfoy talking about?
"I do not care what you say, Draco, I made a promise to your mother-"
"That means nothing against the power of the Dark Lord." Draco hissed. "You shouldn't even be talking to me, being buddy buddy with Potter as if he were your own son! And don't say you haven't! I've seen it!"
"Yes." Snape said. Harry's breath caught in his throat.
"W-what?"
"You are correct in your accusation, Draco. Potter is my…son."
"Does he know?" Draco asked quietly. Harry strained his ear to listen.
"Yes, Potter knows of this and while I am sure he is not happy about it-"
"No, the Dark Lord, does he know?" Snape said nothing. "He doesn't, does he? I'll tell him!"
"And risk your life doing so?" Snape practically growled, pushing Draco into the wallaby his collar. "Risk the life of your mother?"
Malfoy said nothing, and Harry heard a thud.
"I'll finish my task without you, I swear it."
"Indeed." Snape said, turning away with a twirl of his robes. Malfoy walked the other way, stomping as the parted. Snape rounded the corner.
Harry finally breathed, Snape stopping as he rubbed his head.
"Harrison, we need to talk."
"Noooo shit."