CHAPTER 14: FLEDGLING SECRETS

Sunday dawned lazily for Harry, the warmth of the morning sun coaxing him into a prolonged slumber. The tranquility, however, was abruptly shattered by a series of insistent knocks on his door that resonated through the room.

"Obsidian! Wake up!" Theo's urgent whisper-shout penetrated Harry's dreams, prompting him to groggily sit up in bed. The persistent pounding continued, accompanied by the futile attempts to open the door. With a resigned groan, Harry rolled over, determined to seek refuge under the sanctuary of his pillow.

"Fine! You asked for it! Alohomora!" Theo's incantation was met with a soft clicking sound, and the door creaked open. Outside the room, Draco, Daphne, and Theo exchanged glances, uncertain about their next move. If Harry had bothered to look up, he would have noticed their collective presence, hovering in anticipation.

Draco, ever pragmatic, voiced the question on their minds. "So, do we just walk in and wake him up?" He directed his inquiry at Theo, who responded with a nonchalant shrug. Daphne, however, was not one to mince words.

"You're both idiots. You know how skilled Harry is with spells and charms; just imagine what he might have set up in his room! Here, Avis." Daphne's elegant wave conjured a row of vibrant bluebirds, tweeting cheerfully as they soared towards Harry's room. Their merriment was short-lived, abruptly cut off by anguished cries as they met an unforeseen resistance.

"What's happini-" Theo began to inquire, but the trio fell silent in unison. Their eyes widened as they witnessed the avian messengers burst into flames merely two feet into the room. The unexpected pyrotechnics were met with the sight of a very irate and displeased Harry.

"Heh, hey Harry," Theo stammered, his earlier bravado vanishing in the face of a now fully alert and annoyed Obsidian. The room crackled with tension as Harry regarded them, a mix of irritation and curiosity in his eyes.

Harry's growl echoed in the room as he fixed his gaze on Daphne, the one seemingly most knowledgeable about spells among the trio. She instinctively took a step back, swallowing nervously under the intensity of Harry's stare.

"Wow, you don't seem like a grouchy-when-you-wake person," Draco commented, taking in the sight of Harry's disheveled appearance. However, Harry's frown and crossed arms, which revealed a conspicuous black bandage, redirected their attention.

"What did you do there?" Theo inquired, his eyes fixated on the mysterious bandage. Harry's narrowing gaze prompted an instinctual step backward from the trio.

"I'll be out in five minutes. Do not attempt to enter, or you shall be harmed," Harry declared with an air of finality, grabbing some clothes and heading toward the bathroom in the adjacent room. The three watched in silence as Harry vanished from sight.

"The guy who could curse us to death has a bed-head," Daphne deadpanned, her wry observation prompting suppressed snickers from Draco. Theo, however, wore a grin that quickly faded, his face draining of color, and his eyes widening in shock.

"Please tell me it's not touching my leg," he whispered urgently to Draco, who looked down in confusion, only to be met with the unsettling sight of large yellow eyes and a flickering tongue.

"Oh my—Theo, don't move, but it's coiled around your ankle," Daphne warned, her own complexion paling as she attempted to steady Theo's trembling form. The room, once filled with the remnants of laughter, now hung heavy with tension as they confronted an unexpected and potentially perilous situation.

"You three, why did you wake my master? I want my breakfast, and he always gives me my food. Will you give me food?" Coilis, the snake, inquired in a surprisingly articulate manner, causing a momentary confusion among the trio. Coilis let out a casual yawn, his actions misconstrued as a display of fangs by the apprehensive onlookers.

"Oh man, this is bad; I'm too young to die," Theo whimpered, his attempts to free himself from the snake's coils proving futile. Coilis, however, seemed more interested in comfort than confrontation, as he circled and wrapped his tail around Theo, positioning his head on a coil—an unmistakable sign of settling down.

"Well, you stay here until master comes, then I get breakfast," Coilis declared in a somewhat drowsy manner, the warmth emanating from Theo's leg adding to the creature's apparent contentment.

"Theo?" "Yeah, Dray?" "I think it fell asleep on your leg," Draco observed, a mix of amusement and concern in his tone. Daphne, on the other hand, watched with fascination as the massive snake tightened its grip slightly, eliciting a whimper from Theo.

"Okay, so I have a killer snake on my leg, its owner just left, and we're stuck in the middle of the hallways. What else could happen?" Theo exclaimed, his gaze fixed downward as he grappled with a combination of fear and awe, overwhelmed by the sheer size and unpredictability of Coilis. The hallway, once a mere passage, had transformed into an unexpected stage for this bizarre encounter.

"Okay, I'm back. Now, what is it you wanted to ask me...?" Harry inquired, emerging from the bathroom, the one designated for first years which might as well have been his personal washroom given its frequent use by him, Theo, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. Harry's gaze first fell on Theo's beseeching and pale face before lowering to the still-dopey Coilis, patiently awaiting his breakfast.

"What are you doing with Morsus?" Harry questioned, his brow furrowing as he directed his attention to Coilis. The name had been a mutual decision, influenced by its association with the root words of Morsmorde, signifying pain or bite. Harry, however, opted not to share the additional meaning of a stinging pain, leaving it unspoken.

"Oh, that's its name? Can you please tell me why she's in love with my leg?" Theo whimpered, seeking clarification from Harry, who raised an eyebrow in response.

"It's a 'he,' Theo. As for what he's doing, I have no idea. Probably waiting for breakfast," Harry explained, a nonchalant tone underscoring his words. Theo's whimper persisted, and Draco shivered, his imagination likely conjuring images of the creature devouring an unsuspecting infant or some equally alarming scenario.

"Morsus, come on. What's with you? Let go, and we'll get you some food." With Harry's command, Coilis promptly released his hold, gracefully climbing up Harry's arm and settling on his shoulder. The bizarre spectacle unfolded in the hallway, leaving the trio in a state of both bewilderment and relief.

"Yes, get me food," Coilis yawned once again, prompting a renewed bout of tremors from the three. Harry arched an eyebrow in bemusement.

"You are aware that he is yawning, correct?" Harry's pointed observation left the trio blushing and looking away. Shaking his head, Harry strolled into the main area, where a few early risers were engrossed in books or diligently working on essays. While Harry wasn't hungry, Coilis evidently was.

"Hey, we're going to breakfast, right?" Daphne inquired, receiving no verbal response. Undeterred, she shrugged and followed the boys to the Great Hall, where the atmosphere was relatively calm. A handful of students engaged in conversation, reading, or enjoying games like exploding Snap and wizarding chess.

"What is so important that you deem my appearance necessary?" Harry asked calmly as he buttered a slice of toast. Coilis continued to coil around his neck, prompting gasps and hurried retreats from a few startled Hufflepuffs.

Draco bit his lip and fiddled with his eggs, chopping them into smaller pieces than necessary. Sensing their hesitancy, Harry decided to take the lead.

"Well, if you aren't going to speak, I'll get Morsus his breakfast. House-Elf." Harry clapped quietly, and with a resounding 'pop,' a wide-eyed House-Elf with fuzzy earrings in the left ear materialized. She wore a peculiar shawl, tattered and stained at the bottom.

"Yous be callins for a House-Elf's, I be here. I am Tibble!" she responded, to Theo's evident surprise.

"Yes, Tibble… fetch a rabbit, preferably a full-grown one, raw please, and make sure it's not skinned yet," Harry responded casually, giving the impression that it was a routine request. Tibble nodded and vanished, reappearing moments later with a white albino bunny hanging limply by its ears.

"This be pleasin' yous?" Tibble inquired, and Harry offered a short nod before she disappeared, leaving the rabbit behind. Daphne wrinkled her nose at the sight of the lifeless creature.

"Is there a reason why you ordered a dead rabbit?" Daphne asked, her voice breaking halfway through the question. Coilis, sensing the rabbit, slowly slithered down onto the table, causing Draco to gulp and inch away.

"Morsus enjoys rabbits," Harry stated matter-of-factly, crunching his toast just as Coilis sprang into action. The snake sank its fangs into the rabbit, prompting a reflexive twitch from the creature. Coilis skillfully hid it within his coils as he devoured it, blood seeping onto the table.

"Rabbit… not nearly as good as poodle," Coilis remarked, laying his head on the table as he continued to consume the meal. Harry, seemingly unfazed, set down his toast at the same time.

"You have no idea how sickening that was," Daphne noted, her face pale as she stared at the gruesome scene. Harry stopped eating, his calm demeanor unwavering. He curled his hand into a fist.

"You'll have to grow used to it if you ever wish to be in my presence," Harry stated, his voice remaining eerily calm, never rising above a normal speaking tone. Daphne realized she was trembling, a fact that became apparent only when she looked down at her arms. The unsettling reality of Harry's world began to dawn on her as the breakfast scene continued, marked by the macabre nonchalance of both Harry and Coilis.

Harry bent down, seizing the last remnants of his toast, savoring the warm crunchiness. As he strolled away, Coilis, his serpentine companion, draped around his neck, appeared somewhat dazed after the hearty meal.

"Master, where are we headed?" Coilis inquired, his interest minimal as he nestled his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry, indulgent, caressed his companion's head, recognizing the fatigue lingering from the previous day's events. Fawkes had unleashed a series of fierce strikes, though not visibly apparent, the snake bled internally, resilient but marked by the encounter.

Taking a right turn, Harry navigated into the library, moving with the silent grace of a stalking cat through the book-lined aisles. His miniature black book, reduced in size and hung by a delicate hook around his neck, resembled an eccentric necklace rather than a functional volume. Shrunk raven quills nestled in his pocket alongside his wand.

Amidst the shelves, Harry's senses heightened as he caught faint muttering in the air. "Nicholas Flamel... where have I heard that name, and what does it have to do with a Cerberus?" pondered a voice. Peering cautiously from behind the corner, Harry observed a frizzy-haired girl straightening up, revealing her identity.

Engaged by the overheard conversation, Harry approached, maintaining a nonchalant demeanor. "Nicholas Flamel? Now that's an intriguing name," he remarked, injecting a note of curiosity into his tone. The frizzy-haired girl, startled, turned to face him.

"Who are you?" she asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Harry grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just someone who appreciates a good mystery. What's your interest in Flamel and the Cerberus?" he inquired, steering the conversation toward the intriguing topics he had overheard.

Deep in thought, Harry considered Granger, the girl on the train who had shown admiration for Coilis. "Granger... she seems susceptible to influence," he mused quietly, formulating a plan in his mind. With a decisive turn, he walked into the open, deliberately making his presence known to her.

Granger, engrossed in her own morning routine, was taken aback by his sudden appearance. Her hand instinctively covered her racing heart as she exclaimed, "Oh! I didn't know anybody else came here in the mornings!" The surprise was evident in her voice, and her cheeks flushed slightly as she averted her gaze from Harry's intense stare.

Harry, seemingly engrossed in selecting a book, maintained a calm exterior. He delicately pulled a tome from the shelf, running his fingers along its black spine. It was a basic charm book, but Harry had plans to enhance a few simple spells, amplifying their energy and capabilities. Seating himself across from Granger, he observed her reactions. She hesitated to meet his eyes, a subtle sign of unease.

Taking advantage of the moment, Harry covertly altered the book back to its original size, extracting quills and flipping to a blank page. Opening the charm book, he pretended to peruse its contents, all the while assessing Granger's reactions. It was a strategic move—diverting her attention while discreetly searching for spells that could be modified to suit his needs. The library, with its hushed ambiance, became the perfect backdrop for Harry's subtle manipulations.

Granger's offer to help, accompanied by her innocent and curious expression, struck Harry as a bit too contrived. Nevertheless, he flashed a broad smile and chuckled softly, deflecting her offer. "No thank you. I'm a bit advanced in charms; I enjoy tweaking spells for optimal effects. Plus, having a grasp of old Latin certainly helps," he explained, observing Granger's surprise, which quickly transformed into a thoughtful expression.

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that. I find spells more reliable when they're neatly written in a book," Granger countered, emphasizing her trust in the written word over personal intuition and creativity.

Harry nodded, appreciating her preference for structured learning. "Learning Latin is a requirement for many Pure Bloods in their childhood. It might not be Latin specifically, but most of us pick up a second language," he revealed, diverting her attention away from the unsettling truth. As he transcribed the Lumos spell, Harry contemplated introducing a touch of personal flair—perhaps a hint of green or blue.

Curiosity gleamed in Granger's eyes as she tilted her head slightly. "How did you learn Latin?" she inquired.

Suppressing his annoyance, Harry replied smoothly, "Pure Blood traditions, you know. It's practically a rite of passage." He continued his meticulous work on the spell, contemplating the addition of distinctive colors.

Glancing over, Granger caught a glimpse of the fine script and began to read the spell. Harry, aware of her curiosity, allowed a secretive smile to play on his lips, wondering how much he could reveal without raising suspicion.

Granger's surprise at the mention of modifying the light spell didn't escape Harry's notice. He maintained his forced smile, ready to explain the intricacies of his spellcrafting. "The light spell? Why would you need to modify that?" she inquired, genuine curiosity etched on her face.

Harry, with a composed demeanor, responded, "It's simple. By incorporating the Latin names of colors, you can tailor the spell to be invisible to certain creatures or animals with colorblindness. Adding words like 'my' or 'one man' before the incantation can manipulate the spell to your advantage, affecting the perception of sight." He looked up at Granger, who seemed both excited and astonished by the revelation.

"That's amazing! I never knew the possibilities with spells!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm evident. However, Harry responded with a slightly critical glance. "Magic knows no bounds. Answers to your questions become more accessible when explored together. Speaking of which, what brings you here?" he queried.

Granger's gaze shifted to the thick book on the table before her. She chewed on her lip, displaying a hint of hesitation before surrendering. "Well... I'm looking for the name 'Nicholas Flamel.' He... he created something, but I forgot what. It's really rare, I know that..." She trailed off, her expression a mix of uncertainty and hope.

Harry assumed a contemplative expression, pretending to be lost in thought. "Nicholas Flamel, you say? That name does ring a bell. He's associated with something rare, but the specifics elude me at the moment." He maintained an air of calmness, subtly steering the conversation toward the information he sought.

"Hm... I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that name. My apologies," Harry offered a face of feigned sympathy. Granger nodded, her eagerness dampened slightly. Unbeknownst to her, Harry gently delved into the surface of her earliest memories, skimming for the relevant information.

'Nicholas Flamel... trapdoor... dog-Fluffy... Hagrid...'

Harry's mental notes clicked into place. 'So, the giant Cerberus belongs to Hagrid. Shouldn't be too hard to get that oaf to speak,' he thought, seizing his book and shrinking it while Granger was momentarily distracted.

"I must be leaving. Have a good afternoon, Granger," Harry nodded, disappearing around the corner. Hermione shivered in his absence. Harry Obsidian was undeniably charming—perhaps too much so. He seemed capable of coaxing the smallest secrets from unsuspecting individuals. He was not a force to be underestimated.

A soft cry from a little bird echoed through the air, its mother singing a mournful song, waiting for the cold to silence it into submission and death.

Harry observed silently from a rock near the lake on that bright Saturday morning. The sun had just risen, casting a brilliant glow over the light layer of snow that glistened beneath its rays. Frost nipped at anything it could reach, only to be repelled by a warming charm.

The mother bird frantically attempted to teach its offspring how to fly in the brief minutes before death, but the effort proved futile. Harry, an unseen spectator, contemplated the transient and harsh nature of life against the serene backdrop of the lake.

"Why stay, little bird?" Harry murmured, his gaze fixed on the poignant scene unfolding before him. The mother bird, despite knowing there was no hope for its offspring, persistently fluttered around, attempting to lift the baby's wings with its tiny beak. The little one, shivering, sought refuge by tucking its head into its mother's warmth, but she continued her futile efforts.

Harry, with haunted eyes, questioned the tenacity of such a small creature. "Why not flee and find shelter for yourself? Forget the pain and suffering. Why stay and witness the impending death of your offspring? Why not run away like the others, leaving them to perish?" he mused aloud, the bitter reality of nature unfolding in the wintry morning.

His wand safely tucked away, Harry observed, immobile for a moment, not intervening to aid the struggling creatures. A gentle wind ruffled through, causing the baby bird to tremble even harder, seeking solace in the shelter of its mother's embrace. The mother, aware of the futility of rescue even with a wizard nearby, allowed the closeness.

"Why comfort it, little bird? Why not leave, like all the others? Why not forget and move on, never to think about it again?" Harry whispered, his words carrying a weight of philosophical contemplation. The mother bird, its head snapping up, seemed to regard Harry with a newfound understanding. In an anguished cry, she seemingly implored him to do something, to intervene and help her precious offspring. The plea echoed through the crisp morning air, an unspoken plea for mercy amid the harsh reality of nature's course.

"Why should I help, little bird? Why should I break the cycle when others turned away? Why not abandon it and move on, little bird, without a backward glance?"

The silence hung in the crisp air as the bird stared at its motionless offspring, another gust of wind sending shivers through its fragile form.

"Leave, little bird, but know this—forgiveness will elude you. It will never forgive you," Harry whispered, his words carrying a haunting weight, a reflection of the internal conflict churning within him.

'It will never forgive you.' 'He will never forgive you.' 'I will never forgive you.'

A distant, detached part of Harry seemed to be speaking, the words emerging without full awareness. The adult bird emitted a strangled cry, and suddenly, two large cuts appeared, stabbing deep into its breast. Ruby blood spilled out, causing the baby to squeak at the unfamiliar, offending liquid. The mother bird, once vibrant with life, fell limp, now dead to the world.

Harry approached, his demeanor shifting as he gently picked up the baby bird, cradling it in his palm. With delicate strokes of his other hand, the little bird responded with soft peeps, nestling into the sudden warmth.

A dark and twisting emotion coiled within Harry, thrashing and contorting in every direction. His eyes darkened, then cleared somewhat, as an inexplicable connection formed between the wizard and the tiny creature in his hand.

"Why did she stay, little bird? Why did she choose you and not the others? Why did you get it all, little bird?" Harry's voice echoed, carrying a poignant question directed at the small creature in his hand.

The bird, sensing a change in the atmosphere, looked up suddenly, its eyes widening as Harry's hand tightened around it. The strokes that had offered comfort ceased, and the other hand gently forced the bird's head up, compelling it to meet Harry's intense gaze.

"Why, little bird? Why did she leave me? Why did she forget me?" Harry asked, his words filled with a raw emotion that sent tremors of fear through the tiny creature, its eyes clouded with anxiety.

The faint smile that lingered on Harry's lips disappeared, contorting into nothing as he felt the familiar surge of emotion rising within him. This time, however, he recognized it.

'Jealousy...' his mind whispered, a revelation that brought an eerie sense of understanding. Harry, in a rare moment of self-awareness, acknowledged the dark emotion coursing through him. A small, sickly smile played on his lips as he gently ran his finger along the bird's chin and throat.

Without a single regret, Harry twisted the bird's neck, severing the frail connection between life and the fragile creature in his hand. The once vibrant eyes of the bird dulled, now devoid of the fear that had gripped it moments before.

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