Severus cursed every single one of the horrible decisions he had made that had led him to become a teacher. After that was done, he spent a long while cursing Albus Dumbledore too for good measure. The meddlesome old man was half of the reason why he was shackled to this accursed job, after all.
He dearly wanted to do something about the moronic actions of the dunderheads under his charge but he was unfortunately too busy to play overseer. Between teaching and grading, brewing for Poppy, probing at his contacts on the continent for any whisper of the Dark Lord's return, maintaining his relations with the politically Dark faction, and figuring out how a bloody basilisk was moving around the school without being seen as well as who was the moron who decided to release it, he was swamped with work. He was fully prepared to invoke the Rex Ex Machina clause if they tested his patience any longer, but he dearly hoped he wouldn't have to. He didn't think his nerves could handle even more sleepless nights.
One of the first years —Priam Travers — had come to inform him of the change of leadership with the kind of shifty expression that made it obvious the little snake wanted to say more but didn't know how to. He had thought briefly about waiting the next morning to find out what had gone on, but his intuition had warned him against it. So he had calmly asked if there was something else he should know about the takeover and the boy had folded like a deck of cards. First years, so impressionable.
Severus had strode over to the Slytherin common room and commanded the Travers kid to fetch everyone involved. While waiting, he inspected the duelling room. The elves hadn't cleaned it yet, and Merlin. It was a blood bath. Severus could actually see splashes of blood strewn around the room, sizzles of acid and broken objects in the duelling circle, and the weight of wild magic permeating the air. When he left the room, the former and current kings along with their lieutenants were waiting at the study corner, pointedly not looking at each other. Flint had a black eye, he noted, and his more notorious second years were here too. The Malfoy heir looked petulant at being dragged out of bed, and Potter looked pale as a ghost.
Severus felt his dread mounting.
Higgs was breathing laboriously, so he skipped the interrogation he had planned and cast a diagnostic charm on the two duellists.
"What in the world…" he murmured.
Poppy had good reason to be as impressed with Harry —Potter damn it, he corrected himself, grimacing— as she was. She had called the boy a prodigy many times; it had never seemed more real than in the aftermath of Rowle's challenge to his former king.
Severus murmured the counter-curse to a Dark spell that still clung to Higgs which Potter wouldn't have been able to identify, then kept reading the diagnostic.
No wonder Higgs wasn't breathing right; there was a slowly closing hole in his lung. Severus would have to ask Potter privately how exactly he had managed to stabilise the boy's organ while it reconstructed itself —some faith, trust, and pixie dust might have been involved, he imagined— but that could wait. Higgs wasn't in critical condition, and the healing Poppy's apprentice had provided could be supplemented by potions tomorrow. Severus supposed that had been their plan. The puncture would have been concealed by morning, if still raw and painful. The potion master wouldn't have been able to do anything more than Harry had done, he didn't have the draughts ready for such a situation. This was a school after all, not a bloody Nundu reserve.
Poppy's charm work was more precise than Potter's from experience, but he didn't think she could have done much better either.
If the prefect's formerly punctured lung was easy to unconceal among the multitude of symbols the diagnostic charm had given him to slog through —the absolute absurdity of that spell's functionment had been one of the many reasons Severus hadn't become a healer, his preference for more esoteric potions notwithstanding—, the damage done to Rowle was incomprehensible.
"How did you manage to tear nerves from within his arm while leaving the flesh, muscle, and tendons intact?"
The way the two boys avoided eye contact with him told him more than a truthful explanation could have.
"You didn't," he deduced with a flat tone. "You let a twelve-year-old stitch back your arm?" he hissed.
"I wasn't exactly in a state to let him do anything," mumbled Rowle.
Severus wasn't impressed by that answer but he let it go. He turned to Potter, who was glaring holes at the table in front of him.
"Why did you think a second-year performing surgery was more appropriate than fetching an adult?"
"I wasn't planning on it. " The boy clenched his jaw before looking him in the eye. His gaze was haunted, the remembered terror obvious for all to see in the trembling of his hands. "I was doing damage control at first; I couldn't leave them unattended and nobody looked willing to go and fetch you." He sent a poisonous look to Malfoy, Flint, and the Avery siblings then. They sneered back at him but didn't deny it. "I disinfected everything, made sure they didn't pass out from blood loss. But if I didn't stitch back Rowle's arm immediately, he wouldn't have been able to channel magic through it anymore. I had to try."
Ah. The boy had done all this to preserve Rowle's wand arm. Severus found himself reluctantly impressed. It was still moronic, but he could see how Potter might have come to the conclusion that he had to do it himself. Judging by the new Argentum rex's expression, he hadn't known how close it had been for him. Severus supposed the idiotic boy thought the worst that could happen was having to ask Madam Pomphrey to stitch it back in the morning. Those kids knew nothing about healing.
"I see. What about mister Higgs?"
"I'd barely finished with Rowle when the stasis charm I used to maintain his lungs collapsed. Too much strain. And—"
The kid looked sick. He had to take a deep breath. Higgs laid a hand on his arm to soothe him and gestured at the Shafiq girl at his right to explain.
"We can't read diagnostic charms so it took us a while to figure out what was going on," she started. "But Harry was getting more and more scared so we left to come to get you. This moron," she pointed at Flint, her disgust palpable, "stunned us in the back as we were leaving. They said that since Harry managed to reattach an arm he could take care of Higgs just fine."
"After about an hour, Terence started looking better. We put him to bed and tried to convince them to let us get you. They wouldn't so we sent someone to announce the takeover. We were hoping you'd ask the right questions. Right after that, they used the throne's magic to lock us in our dorms," explained Selwyn.
That would explain why Travers scurried away as soon as he finished fetching everyone for him. He didn't want the new Argentum court to pay too much attention to him. Judging by Malfoy's speculative expression, he hadn't been fast enough.
Severus raised an eyebrow at the mention of the throne's magic. Lucius must have told his son about his own tenure at Hogwarts. Being the king of Slytherin wasn't simply a matter of public agreement. The Argentum throne only allowed the crowned rex or regina to sit on it, the change of ownership activated by the pronouncement of the ritual phrases at the outcome of the duel.
Rex Mortuus Est, Vivat Rex was proclaimed in the duelling room, and enforced in front of the throne. Then the new court would have access to various enchantments meant to help them keep order. But the true capabilities of the throne involved a lot of guesswork since the so-called instruction manual had been lost through time. He knew for a fact that the throne's magic had only been activated once during his tenure as a Hogwarts professor. It had happened seven years ago if he remembered well, and it was done by Lisbeth Bulstrode who decided to leave her potential challengers locked in their dorm during the entirety of the Spring vacations so she could have peace to revise her NEWTs.
He didn't doubt that Aspen Selwyn knew about some of the throne's enchantments; a few kings and queens had hailed from his House after all. But his court probably hadn't seen the need for it. They had been uncharacteristically kind, allowing the political Dark courts to convene in their own half of the common room. It had been their downfall, he guessed, since they would have never been allowed to plot behind the court's back if not for those concessions. To keep your friends close and your enemies closer was a valuable lesson to learn.
Speaking of lessons.
"I will not invoke the Rex Ex Machina clause. I have neither the time nor the patience to deal with you dunderheads," he said with a sharp glance at the new Argentum court. Before the leaders of the new regime could start gloating, he continued. "But." Their triumphant smirks faltered a little. Severus took great pleasure in it. "Do not test me. If you push me, I will strip you of your power. You," he growled, "endangered the life of your classmates. You are lucky Potter was here at all. His assessment was correct; Rowle would have lost the ability to use his wand from his dominant arm, and Higgs his life before I or Madam Pomphrey would have even made it to the door. Imagine the headlines. Two Slytherin students almost die in a death match. Rita Skeeter would be thrilled."
The morons had the sense to grimace at that.
"Let us start then. Avery —both of you—, Flint, and Malfoy, four weeks of detention for trying to keep me in the dark and risking the lives of your Rex and your prefect in the process. Higgs and Rowle, you will have two weeks once you are healed for the use of excessive force during a duel. Your conduct was unacceptable. You are not animals. Potter, three weeks. I don't believe I need to explain why."
Severus had to be careful now. He couldn't punish the new court too harshly. Ultimately, there had been no consequences to their idiotic actions thanks to Mister Potter. He could already imagine Lucius Malfoy's reaction if he ordered Rowle to choose new lieutenants. Merlin, what a mess. The potion master resisted the urge to rub his temples to alleviate his persistent headache.
He needed a drink.
"I believe that considering the start of its rule, the new Argentum court needs more supervision. I will be making weekly visits to the common room. If I see or hear anything that displeases me, I will gut your Argentum court and apply the clause. You will not like me as king, of this I warn you."
Severus hated how much more work that would be for him, but he had been Regulus Black's lieutenant in wartime. It would take more than that to scare him. Besides, Regulus had been just; Severus didn't plan on being so.
"Now. Rowle, you will drink this and present yourself to my office tomorrow at eight o'clock for a second dose. Higgs, I will have the appropriate potion ready by twelve, no sooner. Until then, I want you to stay on a regimen of Breathe-Easy and Pain Relief potions. That is what mister Potter prescribed, I believe. I trust the common room cabinet is well-stocked enough for you to gather the appropriate supplies?" At their nod, he continued. "Good. Selwyn and Pucey will take turns waking you up every three hours to take them. Now, get out of my sight. Potter, you stay."
The boy flinched and stayed put while the others slowly made their way back to the dorms.
"Apprentice healers make oaths, mister Potter. You have been spared from it by your master with the understanding that you are too young to swear them, is that correct?"
Potter nodded cautiously.
"But I do not believe Poppy to be careless enough to omit to make you read the Oath of Asclepius."
"She did. Make me read it, I mean."
"I will call my master or any fellow healer if their skills are needed," recited Severus. "And I will apply healing in accordance to my ability and judgement. Do you believe that you are above such things?"
The boy hunched in on himself.
"I know I'm not."
"You have inherited your father's arrogance," he said harshly. Then he sighed. He truly was exhausted. "And just as he could, you can back it up. It is no less grating, I assure you. More than that, it is more dangerous in your hands than in his. With the profession you have chosen, mister Potter, you will hold the lives of other people in your hands. I believe you have finally gotten a glimpse of what that means tonight."
"I'm—"
Potter didn't continue his sentence. To Severus' horror, the boy started to sniffle. He raised his head, and the potion master was confronted to the glimmer of tears in the child's eyes.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispered.
"Do not be. Your idiocy saved your classmates tonight." Severus paused and tapped a finger against the hard wood of the table in front of them. He didn't acknowledge the small smile the boy graced him with, instead continuing. "I am not fool enough to believe that such a thing will not happen again during your tenure at Hogwarts. Thus I will spend the three weeks of your detention instructing you on the appropriate ways to conduct field healing. If Slytherin has to have you as a healer, I will make sure you are competent enough for it. Now. Tell me which spells you used."
Potter took a deep breath and started speaking.
"Safaa," murmured a voice in the dark alleyway.
The girl stiffened. She was alone, having just come back from the Divination class she was the only one to take. She had planned to sneak into her boys' dormitory, the only safe place she had in the Slytherin headquarters. They had been avoiding the common room since the night of the duel.
Spencer knew her schedule, of course he knew when to catch her alone. She chanced a glance at him, her eyes catching on the light glinting off the dark blond of his hair. His tall frame was really not conspicuous, but he knew from a lifetime of experience in his family home how to make himself invisible. The skill used to make her want to weep. It only grated now.
She kept her chin up despite her sudden desire to hide and made to walk past him.
"Safaa, please."
"What, Spencer?"
She turned around in a fury, which predictably faltered upon seeing him fully. The desperation on his face, the hunch of his shoulders, it was all too much. To think that she had been planning to ask her Lord Shafiq to risk their House's reputation and steal him from his parents. She would have killed his Lady mother too if Spencer wasn't so adamant on forgiving her cruelty. Safaa was Light but that didn't make her a good girl.
Spencer faltered too, an embrace away from her.
"I wanted to apologise."
"For what? Betraying my trust? Or for almost killing my best friend?"
"All of that, and more. I'm sorry for being a coward."
"I don't forgive you. What good would that do? You made me keep secrets from my friends, something I've never done before. I did it because I loved you and I trusted you! I didn't even tell Gemma and now she's—" She cut herself off, her throat closing. "She's— and you and your little group used that to take a throne you don't even want from us. Why?"
"Malfoy saw us!" he said with a desperate edge to his voice. "I don't know when but he saw us and he threatened to tell Mother if I didn't challenge Higgs."
"So what? Was I to be your dirty little secret until you became Lord? Were you waiting for your Lady mother to die before you'd gather the courage to introduce me as your girlfriend?" She sneered. "No, not even then. You would have married a pureblood Dark witch Madlin Rowle picked for you, and you would have fucked her thinking about how good it was that your mother approved, and I would have been the mistress!"
She cursed in Farsi, ignoring the way her voice broke at the end.
"You have no honour, Spencer, and I hate that I trusted you with my love."
"But I do love you, Safaa, you have to believe me—"
He took hold of her, likely to stop her from leaving. His hold was gentle still, but that only made her angrier.
"Careful, your Grace," spat Safaa. "Harry reattached your arm, but push me and I'll slice it off again."
He let go like she had burnt him.
She whirled around again, readjusting her headscarf. She charmed the kohl on her eyes off so no one could see it smudged and walked away. She didn't go to the common room as planned but climbed up the stairs again in direction of the infirmary. She had no desire to see Malfoy's smug little face right now, and even less to listen to Flint and the Averys' jeers. She might hex them then, and they'd already taken too much glee in banning her and hers from staying in the common room. In some way, she wished that the new court had gutted their hard work but no. Flint and Malfoy had reused the systems they had implemented and then made sure they only benefitted those they approved of. They never went overboard, too conscious of professor Snape's looming shadow over them. Still, the air in the Slytherin headquarters felt hostile.
Once she arrived, she greeted Madam Pomphrey with a subdued voice and sat down at her best friend's bedside.
"Oh, Gemma," she murmured. "I miss you so much."
"Ah. Sorry, I didn't know you were there," said Harry, his hand on the curtain.
"It's okay. We can share her," she said with a weak grin.
Harry paused before nodding and stepping forward. He offered a brief hug to Safaa before sitting next to his cousin.
"Did you see Aspen, Adrian, and Terence?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.
She shook her head.
"Did something happen?"
"Um, yes. But nothing bad!" he hastily reassured. "They'll tell you later, it's just an idea I had. They wanted to come to get you before they went to check it out but I guess you missed each other."
"Is this about the Carrow twins Gemma wanted to help?"
"No, though we talked about that too. I got a letter back from my bank manager and she agreed to help. We'll follow the plan Gemma and the boys worked out during the holiday. We had an issue at first because Gemma hadn't finished the warded bag Achilles was supposed to hide in but I wrote Ulrich and he's going to do another and owl it to us."
"Great," sighed Safaa, rubbing her eyes.
Harry observed her silently.
"Let's talk about it later," he decided. He rubbed his neck bashfully before taking a deep breath and starting to ramble. "Did you hear about what Lockhart has planned for Valentine's Day? I think it's going to give me nightmares. Padma heard him talk about hiring dwarves…"
Safaa let the boy's voice wash over her, her shoulders loosening. He made awkward pauses sometimes, and the sixth-year could tell he wasn't used to speaking so much, but he valiantly continued to take her mind off things. He had probably learnt from Gemma she didn't like quiet when she was sad. Safaa smiled. Her best friend's little brother was a sweet boy.
"Potter. Come heal me, I got a papercut."
Felix sighed.
Harry's group spent as little time in the common room as possible, but Malfoy made a scene every time they did. He hadn't banned them like he did the sixth years and Priam, but what he was doing was hardly better. Felix wished he could do something for his older friends. He couldn't see what though. They skirted the line professor Snape had set for them but never stepped out of it. And considering the man only cared about the reputation of their House and not so much about the happiness of the people in it, it allowed Rowle's court a lot of leeways. Felix wondered if the Death Eaters had been any similar to this during the war. Abusing their powers, trampling those they considered beneath, and making a show of cruelty. He shuddered. Best not to think about it.
"Come on, pauper lord, I'm waiting."
"Then you can wait longer," said Blaise. "Hopefully you'll bleed out by then."
Felix bit his lip to stop himself from smirking. Malfoy couldn't see him from there, the seating arrangements having been reversed to leave the "Light" faction on the outskirts. Aditya outright snickered from his place beside him. Felix still raged about the fact that his friend was being refused a proper seat because of his blood status. Somehow Malfoy had managed to curse all the seats to fold out if unapproved students tried to use them. The fact that their first-year group's only way to protest had been to sit on the floor as well was still grating. Mafalda and Priam had gone to the Weasley twins with a note from Harry to collect a few pranking items to retaliate. Harry would have done it himself, but Malfoy had been hounding him for days now and he didn't have a moment of peace.
It was the first time since the change of ruler that they had spent any length of time in the common room. They had only done so because Tracey reasoned they couldn't avoid it much longer before the Argentum court would start sending them summons. Malfoy had made a show of ignoring them at first, but his and his friends' snickering wasn't subtle.
"Careful, mudblood or I might have you sleep outside like the dog you are," warned Malfoy with a sneer. "We'll see how long the Heir of Slytherin will take to get you."
Aditya stiffened along with the two other muggle-borns present —Pucey was out, though he wouldn't have been allowed to do more than pass through the common room anyway. Felix reached for his wand, just in case it turned ugly.
"I'd like to see you try," said Aditya, pointing his wand at Malfoy.
"The Argentum Rex and his lieutenants rule over Slytherin," exclaimed the boy, his grey eyes narrowed. "You have to do as I say."
"We're not your slaves," snarled Lixian, who had been getting antsier and antsier since the beginning of the debacle.
"Are you not?" asked Malfoy, cocking his head.
"Am I, Draco?" sent back Felix with a biting tone.
He stood up and walked up to the blond, staring him in the eye. Malfoy faltered. The Rosier heir could hear his friends rising too to back him up.
Felix knew it had stung when he'd called him by his last name after being Sorted. He remembered their play dates as children, daydreaming about going to Slytherin and ruling the House together. Beyond their recent blood relation through the Blacks, the Malfoys and Rosiers had been allied for centuries. Felix' father Evan Rosier had been Draco's godfather and Lucius Malfoy had been his, though the former had been killed before he could fulfill the role. His grandfather still sat among the Dark faction as his regent until he turned fourteen and he had warned him that he would continue to do so until he was in a position to make him stop. His family believed in free will. They were set on letting him choose his path even if they disapproved. That was why his mother hadn't stopped him from befriending a muggle who'd wandered near their estate, and why she had watched as Felix's political views changed to match that friendship. That was why his grandfather had made sure that the family's interests wouldn't suffer when Felix booted his cousin from the steward seat.
His great-aunt Druella, Malfoy's grandmother had called him the second coming of Sirius Black with a look of horror Felix still couldn't forget. It had taken a Vow of Silence from his grandfather to stop her from breaking family tradition and announcing the next Lord's political agenda before Felix could do so himself.
Felix mourned his relationship with Draco but he refused to uphold a legacy of cruelty and prejudice just to stay close to his cousin. Befriending Theo Nott had only made him surer of that choice.
The blond seemed to have similar thoughts judging by the conflict on his face. Felix let his godbrother make his choice, the last courtesy he would give him. After that, they would be opponents. Felix would fight under Harry's banner to protect people like Adytia and William, his muggle friend.
"You're a blood traitor," the Malfoy heir finally concluded, his expression settling on resigned disgust. "You're no better than a mudblood."
Felix sighed, mirroring the feeling. He hoped that one day Draco would understand. Today was not that day.
"I am."
"We are blood traitors as you put it. But that does not make us your slaves," said Harry, stepping forward. He laid a hand on Felix's shoulder, and the boy offered him a grateful smile. "The Argentum rex has as much power as we allow him. You can take our chairs, lock us in our rooms however many times you want, but it does not change the fact that we have pride like any respectable Slytherins. We bend to your whims, but we will not break. And at some point, we will refuse to bend as well. We didn't choose you."
"You didn't have to choose us, our Rex took the throne."
"And what do you do with it? You have no vision Malfoy. Ambition is not simply wanting things for yourself. It's a drive to achieve something greater. You wanted the throne? You have it, with a nice warrior king to keep us in line. What do you do with it now?"
"We're making Slytherins great!" said Malfoy.
Felix could see at the corner of his eye that Rowle, Flint, and the Averys were stepping out of the corridor leading to the dorms. He shifted. That wasn't good. If Malfoy demanded a duel, Rowle would be forced to fight it for him. Harry was talented but he was still a second year.
"You said our year would have been great under your leadership too," mused Harry. "How do you define greatness exactly."
He gestured at the common room by making a sweeping motion with his arm. There was the Light faction in the corner, staring from their designated space. When they had realised their few muggle-born students wouldn't be allowed chairs, they had moved the couches and extended a rug on the floor. In the middle, some unaffiliated students were pretending not to pay attention while the Dark faction following the new Argentum court was staring hungrily, likely hoping for Harry to be punished.
"Is this great to you?" Harry paused. "Agatha Langley was a harpy. But she wanted the House to stand out. Outside of her own selfish desires, she imposed dress codes because, in her mind, a sophisticated appearance reflected well on our House. William Robards was essentially useless, but he gave tutors to every struggling student and increased prefect oversight because he thought that academic excellence would do Slytherin proud. Terence and Gemma strove for unity. We walked together out of the Great Hall last year, they organised tutors, chaperones, and social events because the House looked best when it stood together. What the Argentum Rex does is for Slytherin. What do you do for our House?"
"I put those who deserve it at the top of it, how it should be," sneered Malfoy.
Harry was unimpressed. He sent Malfoy a poisonous look before reaching over to his tie and loosening it. He paused for barely a second before slipping it off his neck. Then he reached for the snake pin on his robe and unclasped it while his wand drew the movements of the colour-changing charm. The trimmings of his robe turned white. Felix gasped among many others.
"Then I'll lose the green and silver for as long as you pretend to have a claim on what I do. I have no respect for your court of bullies."
Potter's court imitated him like it was a given. Felix was impressed. He could feel his friends gaze anxiously at him, Tristan and Lily trying to catch his gaze. Felix reached for his wand and cast. Soon, the first years were all without ties or ribbons, bearing the same white trimmings on their pinless robes. Elise Gardner and Shane Williamson, the only two upper-year muggle-borns outside of Pucey did the same. They looked resigned when they saw that their friends hadn't followed them, too scared of the consequences. Felix sent them a disgusted look.
"Rowle!" shrieked Malfoy. "Do something."
"Potter," sighed the Argentum Rex. His eyes looked strangely pigmented like he had cast a glamour over them. Had he been crying? "Do what he says."
"Oh, right."
Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy and healed his papercut.
"Let's go," he then said before the blond could demand something else. They followed him to the dorms, looking at each other with unsure eyes.
"What are we going to do?" asked Lixian.
"We're going to get so many detentions," moaned Julia, looking at the tie in her hand.
The Potter heir grinned, plucking a book out of his robe's pocket. Felix squinted at it. The words "The Marauders" were printed on the cover.
"A family friend gave me this book about my dad's exploits at Hogwarts. They explored the whole castle apparently. He wrote something about how I should do my own search for interesting places but since I was Sorted into Slytherin he did point an important location to me," said Harry with a smirk. "Come on."
And he kept walking past the doors leading to each year's individual dorms, with the door of the girls' rooms on the right and the boys' on the left facing each other. Felix exchanged looks with the other first years. They had no idea what was going on, but it seemed like Harry's friend did. They must have had a contingency plan in the unlikely case that Flint won —since no one had expected Rowle to challenge Higgs.
"My father was a prankster," explained Harry. "He was also a Gryffindor, so he was a little prejudiced against Slytherin." He grimaced then, and Felix wondered if that was an understatement. "I wasn't really happy to learn that, as you can imagine, but Remus assured me he grew out of it. And, well. I looked at the records and guess who were the leaders of Slytherin while he was there? Lucius Malfoy, Corban Yaxley, and Regulus Black."
Felix winced. Three Death Eaters. That probably wouldn't have helped anyone who was already prejudiced.
"So my dad was a prankster and Slytherin students were right gits. You can imagine what happened next. He and his friends found a way into our common room in their fourth year, and they made good use of it." He laughed then. "Imagine if the Weasley twins had access to our beds and a bone to pick with us."
They all shuddered at that, except Harry who seemed to find the idea hysterical.
They finally reached the end of the corridor, next to where the seventh-year dorm rooms. Harry crouched down, pressed his wand on a random intersection of stone, and murmured.
"Per aspera ad astra."
The floor started to glow at the intersections of its stones, the pattern infolding like multiple stars. They connected slowly together, running along the lines of the castle to form the shape of a door in front of them. The light faded after a second, leaving nothing in its wake. Felix blinked in confusion but soon shook himself. Wixen loved hidden doors. He was proven right when Harry pressed his hand right where the light had just outlined an entrance and disappeared behind the stone.
"Aren't you scared Malfoy is gonna follow us?" asked Julia.
Harry shook his head.
"Terence already placed a disillusionment charm over the corridor. Unless he thought to go after us right after we left —and we would have heard him—- then he'll think we all went to our rooms. With any luck, he'll try to lock us in."
"What about our things?"
"Don't worry about that. Let's go in, you'll see."
So they followed Harry through the hidden door. The passageway led to a stairway made of floating stones which they climbed carefully.
"We're right inside the small condemned tower next to the Astronomy Tower," explained Harry. "This room was set up by Phineas Nigellus Black when he was headmaster. He made it for his children to use apparently, but it's big enough to accommodate us until Malfoy understands he can't order us around. We asked the elves to bring smaller beds —there's a room for discarded things at Hogwarts apparently," he told the other second years, "we have to check it out— and put a partition for privacy. It's not ideal—"
"It's perfect," interrupted Lixian. "Much better than having to deal with Malfoy."
They finally reached their destination after a minute of climbing. Felix' eyes widened. It wasn't just a secret passage out of the common room, it was a secret dorm. The sixth-years were already there, laying on their beds. As they all stepped in, the already spacious room grew in size, accommodating to their presence. Then additional beds started appearing.
The room had nothing to do with the rest of Slytherin's decorations. The ceiling showed the stars just like in the Great Hall, and everything from the sheets to the light was coloured in silver and white. He could glimpse an open bathroom door in a corner, and another door probably leading outside of the castle. Judging by its position, it probably led to the Astronomy tower. There was even an enchanted solar system made out of gold and silver wires hung at the door.
"Ah, so Malfoy already pushed your limits?" asked Pucey upon seeing them.
"He didn't even do anything too bad, but I didn't want to wait until he did."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck then, looking embarrassed.
"Smart choice. And what's up with the fashion statement?"
Selwyn pointed at their black and white attire.
"So many detentions," moaned Julia again.
Felix laughed.
"Worth it."
"Harrikins!"
Two arms settled around his shoulders, startling him. The twins offered him an apologetic look as they felt the sting of his magic at the unexpected touch but they didn't withdraw. Harry smiled a little crookedly at them.
"What's this we heard about you and yours shedding your snake skins? With the sixth-years too."
Harry grimaced. He had gotten an additional week of detention for his trouble, though professor Snape had at least made the concession to allow them to keep the white trims on their robes. Malfoy had not been happy. Their Head of House was delighted though, seeing it as a way for everyone to keep having a peaceful year without him having to intervene.
The rest of the school had speculated about it too, theorising that they were trying to distance themselves from the Heir of Slytherin's actions. Cedric had even taken him aside to tell him he shouldn't be ashamed of his House.
"My feud with Malfoy has kind of… escalated."
"That's one way to put it," smirked Blaise.
"Mhm. I had to resort to a little bit of—" He paused, wondering how to phrase it. "— marauding to get back at him."
In truth, Harry wanted to do way more than he had already done, but he was very aware that Malfoy was baiting him so he could order Rowle to duel him. It was safer to simply remove themselves from the situation until they could actually take action. If half of the common room backed them maybe they could pressure the new court, but most of the students who had been so content during Terence and Gemma's rule were avoiding them now. They didn't want to get involved. They would just have to hold on until Rowle graduated. Terence couldn't make a bid for the silver throne again since it wouldn't let him sit on it again but any of his former lieutenants could, or even Gemma if she was up to it. With Rowle gone, the purists' group would be much less threatening.
And if it didn't work out like that, well. Harry had other ideas. He might not like conflict but even his patience had limits.
"Pardon, did you say—" started Fred, eyes wide.
"Marauding?" finished George. "As in, the Marauders? Do you—?"
"Wait, do you?" asked Harry.
"What is going on," whispered Daphne to Blaise, who shook his head.
"Don't worry about it."
"How do you know the Marauders?" the twins asked in one voice.
"Um, my dad was Prongs."
"And you told us about his exploits! We should have known that. How did we not know that, Gred?"
George nodded with gravity, his hand on his heart.
"How do you know them?" asked Harry.
"They're geniuses! Our heroes!"
"Tell us more, oh heir of the Marauders!" demanded Fred, batting his eyelashes.
Harry shrugged and pulled out Remus' book. For the first time in their entire tenure at Hogwarts, the twins were completely speechless.
The conversation was completely derailed after that.
On the other side of the castle, Neville found a diary.
Tracey was having the time of her life. She couldn't stop laughing at her friends' expressions.
Harry, Blaise, and Daphne had received a combined total of eight Valentine's day cards. Their reactions were predictable. Harry was horrified, Blaise delighted and Daphne incredibly uncomfortable behind her ice queen mask. Tracey knew her best friend well.
She and Theo had the pleasure of observing the train wreck as it happened. Harry had resorted to wearing his invisibility cloak outside of classes, hoping it would somehow make the singing dwarves forget he existed. The two letters he got before he started hiding were not that bad.
"The second one was a little creepy," commented Theo when she said that to him.
"It did talk about plucking out his eyes and wearing them like jewels. Ah, another one."
"Harry, hide!" said Theo, because he was nice like that. If Blaise wasn't busy flirting with the girl who had sent the first letter he probably would have pushed Harry toward the dwarves. Actually, Tracey felt inclined to do so as well.
She whistled innocently before pretending to trip and snagging the cloak off Harry. Daphne snickered from where she was setting her letters on fire.
"Tracey, you are a monster," growled Harry as the dwarf started singing about how whoever had sent the letter found his lack of nargles very nice, and that the shine of his hair attracted flutterflies.
"At least we know who this one is. Lovegood, was it? She's sweet. I doubt she actually has a crush on you though," added Tracey as the dwarf continued on to say that she wanted to try writing a letter to him since everyone in her dorm was doing it.
"I think she's a little lonely. Padma told me she's a bit… strange so she has problems getting along with her classmates," said Daphne.
"We should invite her to eat with us."
They turned to Harry, surprised at his suggestion. He was watching the dwarf leave with a pensive expression.
"Is that allowed?" wondered Theo.
"I'm not sure, but we can ask. And if we can't invite her to our table, we can always do something else with her, or have a snack in the kitchens. We haven't been there yet."
"Wait. I'm going to receive something from all the Ravenclaw first years?" asked Harry with a horrified expression.
Tracey laughed.
"Seems like it." She paused. "Do you think Blaise is going to date that girl?"
"No. He's turning her down."
She, Daphne, and Theo looked again at their friend. He was still leaning toward Megan Jones, a smirk on his face. She was red in the face at the proximity but valiantly stuttered her answers anyway.
"Are you sure?"
"Mhm. Look, she's leaving."
And sure enough, Jones kissed Blaise on the cheek and left with a disappointed grin. Their friend came back to them with his hands in his pockets, looking unbothered.
"I think I want to try dating next year," he said with a considering tone.
"Isn't that a little young?" asked Daphne, looking at the ashes of her love letters with distaste.
They started discussing the pros and cons of dating early, walking toward their next class. Then Blaise teased Harry about having a fan club which made him splutter. They were still laughing when they crossed Longbottom and his friends who were immobilised by a singing dwarf.
"His smile is as bright as sunshine, his hair as blond as pure gold. I wish he was mine, he's really divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord," sang the dwarf with a gruff voice.
Tracey's lips twitched against her will but she abstained from laughing as she saw Ginny Weasley's horrified face and the mortification on Harry's godbrother's expression. Her friends had to express the same restraint, but it was difficult. Tracey had to bite her cheek to keep it in, and she could see Blaise wiping a tear of hilarity. He had turned his face away from the scene to avoid laughing openly but he still couldn't resist.
"Give that back."
She looked away from Blaise to see Harry hold his hand out to Malfoy who hissed at him.
"Wonder what's Longbottom written in it?" said Malfoy, ignoring Harry.
"It's not yours, Malfoy. Everyone saw it fall out of Neville's bag."
A hush fell on the onlookers.
"Hand it over, Malfoy," said the Weasley prefect sternly.
"When I've had a look," said Malfoy, waving the diary tauntingly at Harry.
Weasley said, "As a school prefect —" but Harry had lost his temper. He pulled out his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!". Malfoy found the diary shooting out of his hand into the air. They both made to grab it, but Harry had the faster reflexes. He snatched it and handed it over to Longbottom.
"Potter! No magic on the corridors," reprimanded Weasley.
"If you hadn't been so bloody useless I wouldn't have had to use any spell," retorted Harry.
"Ten points from Slytherin."
"Oh no," he deadpanned. "I'll see you later, Nev'? We're late for class."
They made their way to the Transfiguration classroom just as the crowd dispersed. Tracey could see Malfoy fuming from there, and arranged herself so Harry's back wouldn't be unprotected. Her friend was a little reckless sometimes.
"I didn't know Longbottom journaled," commented Blaise.
"He doesn't. I didn't know when I snatched it but it was someone else's. Some guy named Tom Riddle. I suppose Nev' was gonna return it to him."
Theo stopped in his tracks, causing them to turn to him. His face was pale as death.
"Tom Riddle?" he repeated like he was hoping to have heard literally anything else.
Tracey and her friends exchanged looks.
"Who's Tom Riddle, Theo?"