Disclaimer: Harry Potter and friends belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this story.
A/N: Any italics in the story are either flashback/thoughts or quoted directly from the books.
Please review, your feedback helps my writing improve and inspires me to write more content more often. ;)
Okay, so last chapter was pretty short; hopefully I can make up for it this chapter. ;)
Also – bold lettering is Parseltongue.
HLP 2 – Slytherin Secrets
Chapter 7:
It would have been nice to say that the next day dawned bright and sunny, but the torrents of rain sluicing down from the heavens gave lie to that hope. Harriet woke to the sound of rain lashing against the windows. Reaching out with one hand she blearily patted around on her nightstand until she found her glasses. Able to see clearly once again, she sent a glare at the windows. It would have to rain the first day back to school. She looked at her wristwatch. It was a Mickey Mouse wristwatch with a plain black band. Her uncle had purchased it for her just before she turned eleven so she would not have to worry about being late for class. She climbed out of bed and began her stretches. Every day began the same way, stretch for fifteen minutes, katas for another thirty, then three times a week she would run a mile and a half. The other four days she included a cardio workout or practiced new katas her sensei had assigned. Once that was done, she showered and headed to breakfast, where uncle Toby expected her to eat a healthy, well-balanced diet. Only then was she allowed to indulge her sweet-tooth, in moderation of course.
The entire schedule had been designed for her by her uncle Toby and his old friend, Master Han Li, her Shao Lin instructor. Uncle Toby may seem like an indulgent uncle at times, but when it came to her health and safety, he was quite strict. She remembered the lecture she had received the first night back from Hogwarts at the beginning of summer:
"Never, ever put yourself in danger like that again. I nearly had heart failure when Minerva and I came upon you fighting with Quirrel," he thundered at her, pacing back and forth in front of the cottage fireplace.
"I didn't mean to put myself in danger. I didn't go seeking it out. It kind of came upon me when I wasn't expecting it. I was actually headed for the dorm to change. Quidditch practice ran late and I didn't want to show up in the great hall sweaty and covered from head to toe in mud," Harriet argued back, convinced of the rightness of her argument.
"Promise me that if you ever find yourself in danger again you will go to the nearest teacher," he hissed, visibly stressed.
"I will. I can't imagine anything that would induce me to go charging into danger heedlessly. I do have some sense of self-preservation after all."
He visibly calmed. "I'm sorry, I just worry about you. If you died, your mother's ghost would probably come back from the dead to haunt me for the rest of my life," he joked.
Harry returned to the present, finishing her stretches. She had just begun her katas when she heard Rhonda's voice ask, "what are you doing?"
"I am practicing my katas."
"What's a ka-ta?" Rhonda asked, brow furled in confusion as she sat up in bed.
"It is a movement in martial arts, in this case, a form of Kung-fu called Shao Lin," Harriet explained.
Rhonda looked at her blankly and shook her head. "Blimey, I can't imagine getting up that early every morning just to exercise."
"You get used to it. I have been doing it for so long that it feels unnatural to sleep past six a.m. anymore. You should try it, it helps keep the body healthy and also teaches you moves that can help you if you need to protect yourself," Harriet advised, tactfully not mentioning the fact that it would also help prevent pudginess caused by consuming large quantities of food.
"No way, there is absolutely nothing that could induce me to get up at the crack of dawn every morning just to exercise. You are barmy," Rhonda buried her head under her pillow, attempting to go back to sleep. Harriet shrugged and returned to her katas, picturing the movements in her mind as she performed them. The smooth shift and flow of the katas relaxed her body and mind and she soon sank into a trance.
HLPHLPHLP
They received their class schedules at breakfast, along with a long letter from Mrs. Weasley concerning the incident at King's Cross Station.
My Dearest Rhonda, and Harriet too, of course,
Your father and I were greatly concerned when we realized that the two of you had not crossed over and we became even more concerned when the train left with the two of you still not aboard. We tried to return through the barrier, but were unable to pass through from our direction as well. For some strange reason, we were unable to apparate back either. Your father lost an eyebrow when he splinched himself attempting to.
It was a great relief, therefore, when Headmaster Dumbledore sent us an owl informing us that the school had been notified of the problem and a professor sent to retrieve you – I swear I'm going to kiss that dear squib for being so helpful.
Also, please tell Gryffin we said 'congratulations on getting into Gryffindor.'
Love,
Mum
Harriet and Rhonda laughed at the thought of Mrs. Weasley kissing the bobby who had assisted them on the platform. It was only glares from Patricia and several of the Gryffindor prefects that silenced the giggling and had them returning to their plates.
Harriet was almost finished with her eggs when Gryffin slid into the seat beside her. She glanced over at him and was immediately concerned. He was paler than usual and had faint smudges beneath his eyes, attesting to his lack of sleep. She nudged him.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine…I just didn't sleep well. New bed and all, you know," he gave her a smile and reached for the plate of sausage.
Relieved that it was just homesickness, Harriet returned to her breakfast, reaching for the tray of fruit, and plucking forth a peach which she promptly bit into.
Breakfast passed quickly and they soon found themselves hurrying to the first class of the day, herbology.
"Harry, can you sign this for me?" a voice called out? Harriet looked over to see a group of first and second year Ravenclaws standing there holding out notepads. She was just about to light into them when another voice broke in.
"Famous Harriet Potter, can't go ten feet without your fan club," the unwelcome voice of Draco Malfoy sneered.
"Bugger off, Malfoy," Harriet started, only to be cut off by Professor Sprout's reprimand.
"Language, Miss Potter. Five points from Gryffindor. Now, get to class, all of you."
Harriet looked up to see Professor Sprout coming toward them, accompanied by Professor Lockhart. They moved in the direction of the greenhouses, but Harriet was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.
"I hope you will forgive Miss Potter for being a minute or two late, but I must speak with her," Professor Lockhart's oily voice crawled across Harriet's skin like a particularly unpleasant insect. Professor Sprout, looking as though she would like to object, nodded.
"Harriet, I must advise against giving autographs at your age," Lockhart began only to be cut off by a furious Harriet.
"Professor Lockhart, far be it from me to disrespect any teacher, however, if you do not remove your hand from my person, I swear I will hex your bits permanently," she hissed, pointing her wand at a particularly sensitive part of his anatomy.
He pulled his hand back as though burned before sneering down at her, "even though you may be almost as famous as me, you have no right to threaten a teacher. Fifty points from Gryffindor and a week of detention in my office starting at 7 p.m. tonight," he growled, dropping his normally sunny demeanor. He turned and stormed off toward the castle. Harriet hurried to herbology, her mind recoiling in horror at the thought of detention with Lockhart.
Herbology class that day covered the mandrake plant. Harriet stared in fascination at the ugly root-baby dangling from the bottom of the plant she was holding up. She'd seen pictures of the nasty little plant-creatures in a herbology book she'd borrowed from Uncle Severus' library a couple of summers ago, but this was the first time she'd seen a real one. Her uncle considered them too dangerous for a young child to be exposed to, and she knew he'd even protested when he'd realized they were going to be covering them in herbology this year.
I don't know why Pomona thinks it wise to introduce second-years to such a dangerous plant. Something like that is NEWT level at the very least," he'd raged.
Harriet had wisely kept silent. Her uncle sometimes went overboard with his protectiveness. It was annoying, but at the same time, left her with a warm, fuzzy feeling. The potting of the Mandrakes went off without a hitch. Even the annoyingly cheerful Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Fletchley, couldn't spoil the class for her. Herbology wasn't always her favorite subject, but every so often they came across a plant that drew her interest, such as the mandrake.
Transfiguration was by far Harriet's hardest class. Uncle Severus had told her, grudgingly, that her father was a natural at transfiguration. It seemed she had not inherited his knack. She bit her lip in concentration as she once again attempted to turn her reluctant beetle into a button. Heedless of her failed attempts, the beetle once again headed for the edge of her desk in a frantic bid for freedom. Rhonda was having similar problems. A hand-me-down from one of her deceased relatives, Rhonda's wand frequently gave her trouble in her classes. Harriet wondered what it would take to convince Mrs. Weasley to buy her one of her own and resolved to ask her about it the next time she saw her.
She watched, slightly miffed, as Herman effortlessly turned his beetle into a button and back again, Harriet made a vow that she would work twice as hard at mastering transfiguration.
HLPHLPHLP
Harriet was busily consuming the large chef-salad she had put together for lunch from the ingredients on the table when an owl swooped down and deposited a letter. Seeing who it was from, she quickly tucked it into her robes and shook her head at Rhonda and Gryff when they looked at her curiously. 'Later,' she mouthed.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as Gryff picked at his food. If he wasn't looking better by tomorrow she was going to insist he go see Madam Pomfrey. "Are you okay? You look like you haven't been getting much sleep," she whispered, leaning toward him.
Gryff nodded, not looking up from his plate.
Harriet sighed. She knew something was bothering him, she just hoped that he would be able to get through it, or let someone help him if he needed it. She reached out under the table and grasped his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "If you need anyone to talk to, I'm always here." Her voice was quiet. She glanced over at Rhonda who was eating, oblivious to her brother's problems.
The feeling that she was being watched had her turning her gaze toward the teachers' table. She saw three faces looking at her. Lockhart was watching them from the corner of his eye as he pretended to eat. Her uncle was watching her too, his face twisted into his customary "Hogwarts Students are Twits" frown as she'd labeled it. The third pair of eyes watching her were Dumbledore's, and the moment she met his eyes, she could feel him testing her occlumency shields. She frowned at him to let him know that she had felt it. The prodding sensation ceased. A glance in her uncle's direction informed her that he'd seen the exchange too. She shrugged and went back to eating.
Ten minutes later, they were filing out of the Great Hall, headed for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
A/N: Sorry to stop it so abruptly, but my muse went on strike in the middle of this chapter. Hopefully by next chapter we will have met a mutually acceptable agreement.