December 1992, 2nd year
In the third week of December, a notice was pinned on the board in the Entrance Hall to inform the students of a Duelling Club that would start taking place that very evening.
"There hasn't been a Duelling Club at Hogwarts in decades," Draco commented. "I know my grandfather was part of it back in the day. It was a regular thing with its own instructor and all."
"Mine and Lynea's grandfather was part of it, too," Theodore said. "Apparently, there was a pair of duellists that no one could beat – a boy and the only girl. But father said our grandfather never told him their names."
"Maybe Naenia knows," Lynea mused. "She attended Hogwarts during our grandparents' era."
"Maybe Naenia was one of the top duellists," Theodore said. "She is good enough."
Lynea shrugged. "I just can't imagine her joining the Duelling Club. Too much of a hassle. Too many living people."
When they entered the Great Hall later that day, the house tables had been cleared away and a golden podium had been erected along one wall. There was already a small crowd and as they waited for the clock to strike eight, many more students appeared.
"I wonder who'll be teaching us," Hermione said, making half of the Slytherins jump in surprise. "Someone told me our Head of House, Professor Flitwick, was a duelling champion when he was young, maybe it'll be him."
"As long as it's not –" Harry began, only to interrupt himself with a groan when a certain blonde peacock hopped onto the stage.
"This is already destined to fail," Lynea commented.
"Did he really bring Professor Snape along?" Tracey asked incredulously. "How ever did he manage that?"
"Ohhh, Snape looks like he will murder Lockhart any second now," Pansy said, rubbing her hands. "Wouldn't that be a delight?"
Lockhart waved and the hall fell mostly silent. "Gather round, gather round. Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!" Lockhart continued babbling on – he was even bold enough to belittle Snape's duelling abilities right in front of what could possibly be the whole school.
Snape's expression darkened with every word that came out of Lockhart's mouth and Lynea would have loved to see their potions professor send the inflated ego of that damn peacock to the Hospital Wing, but Professor Snape was more dignified than that.
Up on the stage, Professors Snape and Lockhart bowed to each other (or implied a bow, in Snape's case) and assumed a fighting position, wands at the ready. Lynea could immediately see that Lockhart had absolutely no idea what he was doing. His explanations weren't all that bad, but his stance left so many spots open, it was a wonder it even resembled a proper combative position at all.
Snape didn't even bother with an elaborative spell – he merely used Expelliarmus and a nonverbal knockback jinx. Lockhart was blasted off his feet and smashed into the wall, where he came to lay in a heap. Draco, Pansy and some of the older Slytherins cheered.
"Do you think he's alright?" Hermione asked.
"Who cares?" Harry and Draco said simultaneously.
Lockhart was already getting to his feet again, looking rather dishevelled and looking for his hat, which had fallen off during the impact with the wall – the fact that he had worn a hat to a duel, told Lynea how much he overestimated his own abilities. She had to comment him for his ability to carry on as if nothing had happened, though. He even criticised Professor Snape as if he hadn't just been blasted into a wall by the potions professor. At least he recognized the very real threat in Snape's eyes and refrained from another demonstration.
Instead, Lockhart and Professor Snape then started putting the students into pairs. Because the second-year Slytherins were an uneven number, Lynea ended up with Hermione – not that she minded.
All of the Slytherins had already practiced the disarming charm before, so none of them were really paying all that much attention to what Lockhart had to say. On the count of three, they all launched spells at each other that were definitely not disarming charms. Although Lynea was kind enough to be the exception, because she knew Hermione was at a disadvantage here. Lynea caught Hermione's wand out of the air and looked around to take in the chaos surrounding them. It seemed as if the Slytherins hadn't been the only ones to ignore Lockhart's instructions.
Snape's voice rang through the hall, immediately putting a stop to the mess Lockhart was futilely trying to put back in order. "Finite Incantatem!"
Some of the students, the Gryffindors especially, looked rather worse for wear. The Slytherins had mostly come out unscathed, although Gregory had a bloody lip from the punch Vincent had pulled on him. They were technically able to cast the disarming charm, but even during the Slytherins' training the two boys had always preferred to use their physical strength instead. Millicent sometimes did that, too, but she wouldn't punch poor Tracey in the face.
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," Lockhart said. He glanced at Snape and quickly averted his eyes again. "Let's have a volunteer pair – Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?"
"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," Professor Snape interjected, gliding over to him. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox."
Lynea's eyebrows rose at his words. That was just mean. Neville only needed a bit of help sometimes, but he was by no means 'causing devastation' anymore. He had improved so much already since they had started attending Hogwarts. All it had taken was a bit of tutoring and some kind words of encouragement.
"How about Malfoy and Weasley?" Snape said, smirking.
"Excellent idea!" Lockhart exclaimed, even though this was not an excellent idea at all.
Lynea wondered what Snape was thinking. He could have just sent some older Slytherins who were more than capable of demonstrating the shield charm.
On the stage, Lockhart was showing Weasley – the one from their year, his siblings dispersed among the crowd – some complicated looking wand motion and then dropped his wand. Snape bend over Draco to whisper in his ear (not ominous at all) and Draco started matching his godfather's smirk.
"Three – two – one – go!"
Draco raised his wand, but what came out of his mouth was not a spell the second-year Slytherins had ever taught themselves – and they had taught themselves a lot of different spells already.
"Serpensortia!"
A long, black Snake erupted from Draco's wand and fell to the floor with a heavy thud. The snake was, unsurprisingly, quite upset with the situation it suddenly found itself in and reared up, hissing and ready to strike. The people next to the podium screamed and hastily backed away.
"What the hell?" Lynea muttered under her breath.
"What – Harry?" Pansy exclaimed.
Lynea looked around in bewilderment and saw Harry pushing his way through the crowd and towards the podium, where Lockhart was throwing a spell at the snake that only enraged it further. The snake slithered over to a Hufflepuff boy from Lynea's year – Finch-Fletchley? – and raised itself, mouth wide open, fangs exposed, hissing furiously.
By that point, Harry had reached the podium and was now approaching the Hufflepuff and the snake. It looked like if he was saying something, but all that Lynea could hear was a strange hissing sound.
He was speaking to the snake, Lynea realized.
Harry was a –
"A Parselmouth?" Theodore whispered in surprise. "Why did he never tell us that he was a Parselmouth?"
"What do you think you're playing at?" the Hufflepuff shouted and snapped Lynea's attention back to the podium.
The snake was just lying there, looking perfectly harmless, but the Hufflepuff was looking at Harry with fear in his eyes, before he bolted out of the hall. Professor Snape stepped forward and made the snake disappear with a wave of his wand. He was looking at Harry with a curious expression, just like everyone else was.
Lynea cursed under her breath as the murmuring began and quickly strode forward to grab Harry's arm and drag him out of the hall. The Slytherins went all the way to the common room, before either of them spoke a word.
"A Parselmouth!" Draco exclaimed. "You should have told us!"
"A what?" Harry asked.
"Someone who can talk to snakes," Lynea explained, reminding the others that Harry hadn't grown up in their world.
"Oh," Harry said.
"Did you not know?" Draco asked.
"I did," Harry said. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley in the zoo once – long story – but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to. That was before I knew I was a wizard …"
"You set a boa constrictor on your cousin?" Draco said, laughing. "That's brilliant."
"Don't lose track on what is important right now," Lynea said. "Harry, do you remember the discussion our house had about the Chamber of Secrets?"
"Er – yeah? Mostly."
"Salazar Slytherin was a known Parselmouth. His wasn't the only bloodline that exhibited that ability, but people generally associate Parseltongue, Serpent-tongue, with dark wizards and now people are going to assume that you are the Heir of Slytherin."
"Because I told a snake not to attack Justin?"
"All we heard was hissing," Theodore said. "We don't understand Parseltongue, so it just sounds like incoherent hissing to us. It's a special, mostly inherent magical ability, like people with a natural talent at Legilimency or those with an affinity for Necromancy."
"I'm not his heir, though," Harry said.
"We know you're not," Lynea said.
"He could be distantly related," Theodore mused. "We know Slytherin's line died out, but maybe some distant cousins still exist. Salazar Slytherin lived a thousand years ago, there is no way for us to prove that his bloodline has truly and absolutely died out."
"Or maybe it came from another family of Parselmouths," Lynea said. "Your father was a pureblood, after all, Harry. There could be a Parselmouth somewhere in your ancestry. It doesn't necessarily have to be someone related to Slytherin."
"Not that this will make a difference to the rest of the school," Draco said.
Or the rest of Slytherin House, for that matter. As more and more students trickled into the common room, people started coming up to Harry and commending him. They asked him why he kept it a secret all this time. Someone even told him how cleverly he had fooled them all into believing he was a Muggle lover, when he had been hiding this the whole time. Harry's face flushed at the latter, but he refrained from saying anything.
"Draco?" Lynea asked and waited for the boy to hum. "Why did you use that specific spell?"
Draco shrugged. "Uncle Severus told me to."
Lynea furrowed her brows. "It was a mock duel. You could have literally used any other spell we have taught ourselves and Professor Snape told you to summon a snake?"
"It was the spell that befitted our house the most."
"It put Harry in even more danger."
"I didn't know he was a Parselmouth!" Draco took a deep breath to calm himself. "I wouldn't have used it, had I known. You know I would never knowingly put Harry in danger."
"Of course not, "Lynea said.
o
The next day, there was so much snow outside that their Herbology lesson was cancelled. The Slytherins mostly slept through History of Magic and then went to the doors of the Entrance Hall, to see how bad it really was.
"I want to go outside," Lynea said. "I understand why Madam Sprout wouldn't let the Gryffindors help her with fitting socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, but Ravenclaw and Slytherin are able to handle such delicate things."
"You're mad," Draco said, hugging his cloak close to him. "Look at this blizzard. We would freeze to death out there."
Lynea pouted at that.
"Do you know what the Hufflepuffs have next?" Harry asked. "I've been wanting to talk to Justin all morning, but I didn't want to skip History of Magic just to go and look for him."
Draco shrugged. "No idea."
"Transfiguration," Pansy said, "with the Gryffindors."
"Great," Harry muttered.
"We could go to the library," Lynea suggested. "Maybe Finch-Fletchley and his friends used their free period in a meaningful way. Besides, if you won't agree to go outside, then we can just as well do exactly that – use our free period in a meaningful way in the library."
Draco sighed dramatically. "Alright, might as well finish our homework."
The others nodded their agreement and off they went. They did indeed find a group of Hufflepuffs leaving the library to go to their next lesson, but Finch-Fletchley wasn't among them. Lynea recognized the pureblood, Ernie Macmillan, but didn't know any the others.
"Hello," Harry said as the he and Lynea approached, the others waiting by the doors. "I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley."
The Hufflepuffs exchanged a look that did not seem overly friendly. Then they collectively looked at Macmillan and Lynea thought there might have been fear in their eyes.
"What do you want with him?" Macmillan said and there was definitely a hint of fear in his voice.
"I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Duelling Club."
Macmillan bit his lip and then took a deep breath. "We were all there. We saw what happened."
Lynea glanced back to the other Slytherins. Draco shrugged at her. They already knew where this was going. But Harry remained stubborn.
"Then you noticed that after I spoke to it the snake backed off?"
"All I saw was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake towards Justin."
He was brave for a Hufflepuff, trembling all over and still confronting Harry with whatever delusion had planted itself in his head. Because Harry had only arrived at the podium, when the snake had already been poised and ready to strike Justin.
"I didn't chase it at him!" Harry exclaimed, anger lacing his words. "I barely reached him in time and I didn't even touch him!"
"It was a very near miss," Macmillan said, stubbornly clinging to his delusion. "And in case you're getting ideas. I might tell you that you can trace my family back –"
"Through nine generations," Lynea interjected. "And Zacharias Smith's through ten. The only muggleborn in our year are Hermione, Finch-Fletchley and that one Ravenclaw." Lynea turned her head to look at Theodore. "What was his name again?"
"Kevin Ernstwhile," Theodore supplied.
Lynea nodded. "Thank you." She turned back to Macmillan. "You, as someone who has grown up in pureblood society, should know very well that we always keep tabs on everyone's blood status. It's not that hard. We purebloods already know each other and most of the halfbloods can be recognized the way they behave, if not by their last name."
Macmillan narrowed his eyes. "Then that makes it even easier for Potter to attack the muggleborn of this school."
"No, it doesn't," Lynea said. "Harry didn't grow up in our world. He has no clue what someone's blood status might be unless they explicitly tell him. I can't remember Finch-Fletchley ever talking to Harry, can you?"
"You obviously told him."
Lynea raised an eyebrow. "And why would we do that? Harry never asked."
"I would never attack a muggleborn!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm friends with one. I don't have any reason to."
"I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with," Macmillan said.
Harry tensed.
"You should go to class," Lynea said sternly. "Professor McGonagall won't be happy if you're late."
Macmillan turned up his nose and gestured for the other Hufflepuffs to follow him, neither of which had uttered a single word so far.
"That went horribly wrong," Pansy commented. "You should have kept your mouth shut, Lynea."
Lynea shrugged. "He was getting on my nerves."
They didn't manage to enter the library, because soon after the Hufflepuffs had left a loud screech echoed through the hallways and someone started shouting.
"What the hell?" Lynea muttered.
Harry was already on his way towards the commotion, but Draco grabbed his robe to stop him.
"We are not going to involve ourselves in anything that would put us in a bad light," Draco said firmly.
"But ignoring it would also make us look suspicious," Harry said. "And we have alibis – we're together all the time."
Draco arched an eyebrow. "And you think they will trust what a bunch of Slytherins have to say? No, they will instantly assume that we are covering for you."
They didn't have to argue any further, because Professors McGonagall and Flitwick came up the stairs, carrying what looked like a petrified student. Macmillan followed them, waving a large fan to move Sir Nicholas in front of him. The ghost was no longer white and translucent, but looked like he had been filled with dark smoke. His head was tilted to the side, the ragged cut showing, and he wore an expression of utter horror on his face.
"It's Justin," Harry breathed. "Shit, it's Justin!"
The Slytherins stood motionless as the odd procession went past them. Macmillan shot Harry a dirty look, but didn't dare saying anything in front of the teachers.
"Great," Pansy commented dryly. "Now they are going to be especially hostile towards Harry. And we still haven't found the people who threw a vase at him. Just great."
"Do you think they are going to close the school now?" Tracey asked.
"Of course not," Draco replied. "That would imply that they actually care about us."
Pansy snorted. "Come on, let's do our homework. We won't accomplish anything by standing uselessly in the hallway."