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Chapter Eighteen
"Can we talk to you, Harry?"
"You have been all morning."
It was true. For some reason, Snape had assigned Harry to work with both Blaise and Theo in Potions, and then had kept his back to them for most of the class. Blaise and Theo had tried to tell Harry all about how and why they hadn't intervened to stop Flint, but Harry had kept them focused on the potion.
They were out of the class now, and Theo and Blaise both turned and looked him in the face. Harry sighed and folded his arms. He was going to be late to lunch at this rate.
"It didn't sound like you were apologizing," he added, as they continued to stand there in silence. "And that's really the only thing I would be interested in hearing from you."
"It's—we were afraid."
Harry waited for a second, and then sighed through his nose. "What were you afraid of?"
"That Flint would attack us," Theo said, giving Harry a strange look. Was Harry that different from other Slytherins? From his friends? Maybe he was. "He's so much older and stronger, he knows so much more magic…"
"And he apparently challenges people to random duels," Harry said, understanding a bit better. "You thought he would challenge you if you tried to stand up for me or even just say that it wasn't a proper duel?"
Theo looked at the floor.
"I wasn't in the room," Blaise said softly, shooting Theo a look that made Harry wonder what they'd discussed in private. Or silently, that way they had. "But yes, Flint does do this kind of thing. No one says anything because he's Quidditch Captain and can essentially do what he likes. Although that's changed now."
"Flint got kicked off the Quidditch team?"
"No. He got defeated by a second-year."
Blaise smiled at Harry for what felt like the first time since the "duel" with Flint, and Harry blinked. Blaise's smile was sharp and delighted, and he reached out to put a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Malfoy thought he could win a duel with you because he's rich and pureblooded. Those Ravenclaws who went after us last year thought they'd win because you're young and they thought you wouldn't have any loyalty to us. And we thought you would lose to Flint. It turns out that all of us were wrong."
Theo kept his head ducked, but he swallowed and said, "I'm sorry. I thought Flint would come after me. I should have known that if he did—you would protect me."
Harry nodded slowly. He wasn't going to argue that Theo should have known he'd win, because Theo's skills did seem to lie more in slow magic like Potions and Transfiguration than the quick hexes and curses of a duel.
And he could understand fear (or not being in the room, as Blaise would doubtless point out) better than he could just refusing to engage with the duel because Flint had a higher social standing, or whatever.
"Fine," Harry said. "I forgive you. But you should know that next time, you can at least tell me something like whether my opponent is known for calling stupid little fights duels instead of just expecting me to know."
Theo gave Harry a tentative smile. "I will. Thank you."
"And it helps that now we know you don't lose."
"I would have lost fighting the Dark Lord. That's why I ran."
"But anyone would have. I'm talking about fights with other students, where we might have thought you'd lose, but we know better now." Blaise leaned forwards a little. "Do you mind telling us why you set your snake on Flint and used fire instead of just dodging out of the way and trying to wear him down?"
Harry wasn't about to give an honest answer to that one, which was that he had never known Dudley to get tired or worn-out, despite his size, when he wanted to cause Harry pain. "I wanted to make sure that he would never come after me again."
"Mr. Potter."
Harry glanced over his shoulder. Professor Snape was standing behind them in the doorway of his classroom, his arms folded. Harry sighed. He supposed that this was his fault, in some way, just like everything else was.
"I'll see you later," he told Blaise and Theo, and then turned and went in to see what his bully of a professor wanted.
"Sit down."
Harry had expected to be told to stand in front of Snape's desk like the naughty boy that Snape undoubtedly considered him, and he hesitated a little. But he took the chair at the front table when Snape glared at him.
"I want to know the details of your duel with Mr. Flint."
Harry wanted to object that it hadn't been a duel, but he supposed that if Flint had got away with challenging other students to stupid "duels' for years, it was partially because Snape backed him up. So Harry fastened his eyes on the wall behind Snape's shoulder and droned through a recitation of the duel.
"The snake?"
"Malfoy conjured it a few weeks ago with Serpensortia. I took it away from him and made it my pet."
"How did you do that?"
"I'm a Parselmouth."
Snape's hands slammed down on his desk as he gripped the sides. Harry tensed, but didn't let himself flinch or run from the room, the way he would have liked to do. That would satisfy Snape the bully far too much.
"And you did not think to inform me of this?" Snape asked in a whisper-hiss Harry might have liked trying to translate into Parseltongue under different circumstances.
"I didn't even know what Parseltongue was until Theo and Blaise explained it to me, sir. I thought the snake was speaking because it was magical, and that Malfoy was stupid not to try speaking it to it and bringing it back to his side."
Snape closed his eyes and pinched his nose for a moment. Harry looked back at him without meeting his eyes directly. It didn't seem like a smart idea to do that much anymore, not when he got headaches when he did.
"There are people who will be very upset at the idea that you are a Parselmouth, Potter, because the Dark Lord was one."
"Yes, sir. That's why I didn't tell anyone in another House."
"You should have told me, so that I could be prepared to protect you when the secret was revealed."
Harry didn't mean to, but he laughed. Snape at once leaned in and stared at Harry like he was about to spring on him. Harry stared back without meeting his eyes and wished for the snake.
"Do tell me what amuses you so much, Mr. Potter."
"You gave me the ring because you wanted to protect me, sir. And I know that I didn't use it the right way and so I'm responsible for the alarms never telling you I was in danger. But in the end, you didn't protect me. I protected myself. And you didn't protect me from Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore thinking I cheated, and you didn't protect me from Malfoy last year, and you didn't protect me from yourself. I can't count on you. I can't count on anyone but myself and Ron and Hermione."
In reality, Harry wasn't sure how much that last part was true. He hadn't told them about his Parseltongue for a reason, after all. But he thought Snape would probably say something snide if he didn't mention them.
Snape stared at him with very wide eyes. Harry just stared back and waited for Snape to find a way to blame this on him again.
Snape flowed to his feet with a snap of his robes. "Get out of my sight."
Which was about what he'd expected. Harry just nodded, not mocking because he was plain tired, and then turned around and walked towards the door of the office.
"Mr. Potter."
Harry glanced over his shoulder. Snape was standing behind him with his hands folded into the sleeves of his robe, and his gaze fastened on Harry, complicated and heavy.
"Have you considered," Snape murmured, "that there may be factors beyond a simple desire to protect you influencing my behavior?"
Harry blinked. "Of course, sir. You have to protect other students. I know that."
"That is not what I meant, Mr. Potter."
"Then what did you mean, sir?"
Snape refused to answer. Harry shook his head and turned away. He waited to roll his eyes until he was sure that Snape wouldn't see him do it.
Of course Snape hadn't replied to the question. Of course. Harry was getting heartily sick of cryptic silences and people not telling him the truth because of some hidden requirement or fear or alliance or secret from the war.
At least Ron and Hermione were always honest, because they were blunt and wouldn't know how to be anything else. Even if Harry wouldn't fit into Gryffindor with them because he was a liar like other Slytherins, he knew that he would have been happier in Gryffindor than he was in Slytherin.
Then again, he had always known that his happiness wasn't a priority.
"Are you sure that you aren't the Heir of Slytherin?"
"You're an idiot, Theo."
Harry could feel the way that Theo was bristling and Blaise was paying sharp attention without looking up from his book. After all, this was the first time that he'd called one of them an idiot.
"But you can speak Parseltongue," Theo said at last.
"And I have such motivation to go around setting a monster on cats. And Muggleborns like Finch-Fletchley, when I'm all but a Muggleborn myself."
"You're a half-blood. And it's not unknown for people to be ashamed of their heritage, to seek to fit into the world that rejected them by doing something drastic…"
"Do you see Harry even trying to fit in with purebloods?" Blaise demanded. "Merlin, Theo, maybe you are an idiot."
"Blaise, you know why you I need to know."
Harry glanced up—his Charms essay wasn't that fascinating—and watched Blaise and Theo face off over the ends of their beds. Silent conversation, he thought again, idly, and less bitterly than he once had. He just wasn't meant to have it.
"I know," Blaise said at last, turning his head a little to the side, and some of the tension drained from the air. "But that doesn't mean Harry has the answers."
"He could be the answer."
"To what question?"
Theo turned around and stared at Harry as if he hadn't expected Harry to be listening even though the conversation was clearly about him. "The question as to what I'm going to do," he said at last.
"Going to do when you get out of Hogwarts?'
"That exactly. Yes."
Blaise was watching Harry intently, which let Harry know that this conversation was more important than it seemed. Again. He hid an impatient sigh with a slight shrug. "Well, that's pretty far away."
"I have to decide sooner than that."
"Why?"
Theo looked away.
"Fine," Harry snapped, his irritation overflowing fast enough to make the snake stir under his pillow, "don't tell me why. Hint and hide things and get angry at me for not knowing things like that I'm a Parselmouth, but don't be surprised when I stay closer to Ron and Hermione than I am to you." He turned huffily back to his essay.
There was probably more silent conversation behind him in the form of eyebrow raises and eye contact, but no one said anything, and Harry lost himself in the essay perforce. Then he heard the whisper of a Locking Charm, and whipped around with his own wand raised.
"It's all right," Blaise said softly, lowering his wand. "It's just that if Theo is finally going to tell you the truth, then I want to make sure Crabbe and Goyle and Malfoy stay out in the common room where they belong."
Harry didn't say anything, just waited. Theo sat up and glared at Blaise. "You kept it quiet, too."
"Because it wasn't my secret to reveal. But you know that I've thought for a while that Harry is what we need, and you just keep pushing for more and more evidence."
Harry sighed. "So you want me to save you or something? Look, I'm going to defend your lives from things like those Ravenclaws who cast at us no matter what. So you can count on that. But I'm not interested in—debts and balances and all this careful Slytherin bollocks. So you might as well give up on thinking of me as a friend if that's what this is based on."
Theo closed his eyes. Harry glanced at Blaise. Blaise made a little sawing motion with his hand, so Harry waited, as difficult as it was.
"I need someone who can make sure that I'm not forced into the Dark Lord's service," Theo finally whispered.
"Your father would do that to you?"
Theo gave a bitter laugh and opened his eyes. "I know that you know my father was a Death Eater, Harry. What makes you think that kind of thing would be beyond him?"
"I would have thought he'd want you to serve the Dark Lord willingly, not be forced into it."
Theo paused. Then he said, "All right, there's some merit to that. And so far, he does think I'm willing. But he won't believe that forever. And he loves me, but the Mark on his arm means he loves the Dark Lord more. I need someone who can stand up to him, someone who can shelter me from his demands."
"Sure."
Theo's eyes widened to the point that it looked like it might hurt. Selfishly, Harry hoped it did. "What?" he croaked.
"I'll do it not because I want something from you, but because it's the decent thing to do. So there. You can stop worrying. Problem solved. Tell me what you need, and I'll do it."
Theo stared at him with his mouth slightly open this time. Blaise laugh-groaned. "I told you, Theo."
"But it—no one else would do that."
"Why not?"
"Because they'd want something for it, or they wouldn't care enough."
"I think Ron would do it. Or Hermione. They might not have the power to do it, but they would."
"Weasley would demand something from me. He wouldn't trust my allegiances without some sort of oath. And Granger would—she would say that I ought to go to Dumbledore or something. She wouldn't just offer her help."
"I think you're wrong."
Theo shook his head. "It doesn't matter. The problem is that I wanted someone who would protect me because it's the right thing to do, as you phrase it, and wouldn't ask for much in return. But they also had to be a Slytherin or someone I could trust would be honest with me and not try to take advantage of me."
"And that description doesn't fit a lot of Slytherins."
"No." Theo stared at him intensely. "And then I found what I seemed to need, but—no one is like you."
"Honest?" Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but, well, he had used to think like that, when he grew up with the Dursleys, who lied all the time. It took him a while to see that some others just believed their lies, instead of lying themselves.
"Protective and keeping your word and straightforward and practical and powerful and—" Theo waved his hand. "I couldn't afford to be mistaken, in case it turned out that you were pretending and you managed to trick me."
"I have never wanted anything less than I wanted to trick you."
Theo gave him an unhappy smile. "I know. But that's the way I felt."
Harry nodded slowly. All right, he could understand that. "So are we real friends now, or whatever?"
"Yes," Theo said. His eyes were burning with something Harry couldn't put a name to. Maybe more evidence that he was on the outside when it came to Slytherins. "I trust you. I trust that you are who you say you are."
Harry glanced at Blaise. Blaise lifted his hands. "I trusted you months ago. I wanted Theo to trust you. But he insisted on pursuing this absurd course."
"It is not absurd. Not for what's at stake."
Harry just nodded, finally. He could sort of understand if he thought of what would have happened if he had trusted someone to get him out of the Dursleys' house and then it hadn't worked out. It had been years since he'd trusted that someone would, though. He had just always thought it would be up to him.
"You thought someone you trusted and couldn't trust would betray you to your father?"
"Or give me back to him."
"It's all right, Theo. I wouldn't do that."
"I know that now."
And going back and arguing about what had happened in the past wouldn't solve the problem, Harry thought. He sighed and stood up to cross the distance between their beds. He clasped Theo's shoulder and said, "Fine, we all know that now."
Theo said softly, "I'm sorry that I was too scared to stand up for you in front of Flint. And I'm sorry that I accused you of keeping secrets from us when you didn't even know about your Parseltongue."
Blaise clapped his hands, a sharp sound that echoed the way the door had begun to rattle, probably from one of the other boys who had been locked out. "So! Now we're real friends, and we can get on to discussing something more interesting, like why Weasley is obsessed with the worst Quidditch team to ever exist."
That startled a laugh out of Harry, and by the time Blaise released the Locking Charm on the door and Malfoy strutted in, both Harry and Theo were arguing about whether Ron's obsession was worthless or not.
Malfoy tried to say something loud about how Ron himself was worthless, but Harry turned and looked at him while lazily stroking the snake's head, and Malfoy turned and stomped into the bathroom.
"Not the least of your good qualities," said Theo, with a faint smile in Harry's direction, "is that you put him in his place."
Harry just smiled, because he didn't know how to answer that. Or how to answer the snake's hissing complaints.
"You can change things into things. Change that one into a rat and let me eat him."
Harry had to admit that that would at least solve the Malfoy problem.
