CHAPTER 26
16 January 1992 - Hospital Wing, 6:38AM
Harry paused in his Potions homework review, reaching over to gently rub his mother's frozen hand. He bit back a shiver at how cold she felt, devoid of all the warmth and vitality he'd always associated with her. Nonetheless, he continued his tender ministrations. They helped ground him amidst the storm that was lately his life.
On the opposite side of his mother's bed sat Hermione, knitting needles clicking away. His Gryffindor friend was intent on knitting a snake-themed blanket to cover Lily, to provide her some semblance of comfort (though she wouldn't be able to feel it). She'd spent almost every bit of her free time split between visiting the older witch and scouring the entirety of the Hogwarts library to try and find some remedy for Petrification. So far, she'd been unsuccessful.
She wasn't the only one; Harry's Slytherin friends had also made their attempts to help find a solution for Lily's current predicament. Theo and Eurus had sent discrete missives to their elder siblings to see what they could find regarding magicks or creatures capable of Petrification. Blaise and Luna had reached out to both their parents with their own inquiries. For Luna in particular, she was hoping Xenophilius' more…exotic magizoology knowledge would come in handy.
So far, Olivia, Alex, and Contessa Zabini had produced copious information regarding Gorgons, basilisks, and cockatrices, all of which the fledgling Claimant and his Inner Circle had thoroughly pored over. Harry didn't really think the legendary Medusa was lurking in the hallway shadows and turning unsuspecting victims to stone, though Luna insisted that it would be easy for her to "camouflage herself" with aid of the castle's "snake-friendly" magic. The basilisk option didn't seem realistic either, dismissed by Harry and his friends as being a no-go insofar as the Chamber of Secrets and Heir of Slytherin were concerned. It struck none of them as odd that they were so quick and easy to dismiss such a possibility, nevermind not noticing that they became ever so distracted when thinking on the prospect of a basilisk being involved in the entire mess.
Xeno had produced details about something called a svartálfar, an elven being of myth whose enraged gaze could turn its victim to stone. The young Potter doubted that a giant-sized dark elf was lurking unseen in the Hogwarts halls, especially under the keen watch of the Serpent network. Though ironically enough, even they hadn't seen or noticed anything suspicious. Not even Eckbert, the chattiest of pattiest gossipy snakes. His only complaint had been the pipes "rumbling more than usual", to which Harry had no response. It wasn't his responsibility to ensure the castle's plumbing was up to par.
"Ouch!" Harry was shaken out of his thoughts by Hermione's exclamation. He bit back a chuckle at her irritated expression as she sucked on her forefinger. "Not funny Harry! Bloody tungsten needles can be a right menace."
Taking pity on his best friend, Harry unholstered his wand and summoned a small jar of dittany from an unused infirmary tray, guiding it to land in Hermione's lap. Muttering her thanks, she quickly applied some of the soothing balm to her bruised fingertips, sighing in relief.
The two friends sat in comfortable quiet for a few moments before the Gryffindor spoke:
"Do you…do you reckon she'll be alright?" She leveled an anxious stare at Lily's petrified form.
"She…she will be. According to Professor Snape, petrification is a state of near-impenetrable stasis. She doesn't feel pain, doesn't grow older, can't see or hear, nothing really. It's like she's in a magically-induced coma…that makes her feel like icy stone." Harry gently rubbed Lily's frozen hand.
"That's…that's good," Hermione haltingly replied. Harry paused, frowning at her response and her increasingly guilty expression. Sighing, Harry stood up and moved his chair closer to his best friend. Sitting once more, he wrapped a firm arm around her shoulder as she leaned into his embrace.
"It is good Hermione. And again, you're not at fault. No one blames you for anything, especially not me. When mum tells you to go, you go. She was protecting you, with good reason too. You may be a brilliant witch Hermione, but I doubt even you could defeat whomever or whatever did this to her." His friend sighed before smiling appreciatively at her Slytherin friend.
"Thanks Harry." He smiled back kindly.
"Always."
The Black Lake, 10:10AM
Seated under the shade of a few pine trees was Team Mysterioso, having an impromptu meeting during the combined free periods. A bevy of privacy spells ensured their conversation couldn't be overheard.
Leaning against the tree were Hermione and Penelope Clearwater, reviewing their personal notes against copies of Eurus' Mysterioso Manifesto, discussing amongst themselves any new changes in the appearances and behaviors of the creatures only Luna could still see. The witch in question had draped herself directly on the laps of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, answering any questions they would incur as the two older witches would take turns running their hands through her hair (much to Luna's delight).
Across from them sat Ginny and Harry, who were also comparing their notes. Eurus was laid on her stomach smack dab in the middle, swinging her legs while she doodled in her master copy of the Manifesto. She'd fashioned some of the fallen dried pine needles into an ornate circlet sat atop her head, in a manner akin to a dryad queen.
"What kind of security charm do you reckon Lockhart used for our notes parchment?" asked Penelope quietly. "I've attempted to look up the charm in the library, even in the Restricted Section, but I haven't been able to find anything." Her nose wrinkled at her parchments in equal parts annoyed and frustrated.
"I assumed it was proprietary magic," replied Hermione.
"Proprietary? You believe he invented it himself?" Penelope sounded quite impressed.
"I believe so. I looked it up in the library as well, and couldn't find any mention of a spell that can simultaneously obscure written text and render it gibberish to the wandering eye, all while activated by a password. It's either an obscure bit of magic rendered obsolete for…whatever reason, or… he invented it himself." The Gryffindor paused and leveled an amused glance at the older witch. "And if I recall correctly, Professor Lockhart was a Ravenclaw. Spell-crafting wouldn't be too beyond his capabilities."
"Hm, touché Granger." The two witches giggled in tandem.
"Well if that's the case, I'm more surprised he hasn't patented the spell for a profit." Ginny rolled her eyes. "He's capitalized off everything else that happens in his life, his books are practically autobiographical at this point." Everyone got a good snicker out of that, none disagreeing.
"Maybe he has more integrity that we're willing to give him credit for?" Everyone stared at Eurus, who just smiled cheekily.
"Maybe…" replied Ginny unconvincingly.
Comfortable silence reigned for some minutes before Harry spoke:
"Luna?"
"Yes Harry?"
"Can you clarify a bit about Blibbering Humdingers?" He frowned at Eurus' drawing of the creature, a humanoid sea slug bearing three hands with impossibly long fingers. And, oddly enough, appeared to be blowing a raspberry. "I'm a little bit confused about their…mechanics."
"Certainly! Blibbering Humdingers appear when one's magic…assumes control, so to speak. Everyone has one Blibbering Humdinger, no more. Whenever you're in great distress - be it anger, sadness, pain, whatever - and you allow your magic to assert control, it appears. Humdingers use their long fingers to…wrestle control of your nargles to prevent them from going haywire and allowing you to focus. Wrackspurts are terrified of them, since they have the ability to crush them into nothingness." A few brows raised at that, wondering just how scary such a being could be that it could inspire fear in creatures as frightfully hideous as wrackspurts. "Once your magic has allowed you to assume control and get your nargles in order, it fades away until it's needed again."
"Do young children have their Humdingers manifest more often? Due to their accidental magic?"
"That's an excellent question Penelope. You're correct; I've witnessed quite a few children - in the midst of some temper tantrum or performing accidental magic - had their Humdingers manifest and take control of their nargles, allowing them to calm down." Her eyes turned crafty as her voice took on a teasing lilt. "Druscilla Crabbe's Humdinger - the pinkest and fluffiest I have ever seen - manifested during our first Quidditch class, aided by Ginny here when she helped her calm down during her broom incident." Weasley's eyes goggled in response.
"Fascinating…" Hermione furiously scribbled the blonde witch's description, mirrored by Eurus and Penelope.
Luna continued to answer and clarify their questions as best as she could, before Harry politely excused himself from the group. He cited needing to meet with Flint and Bletchley in the Common Room to review some Quidditch strategies for their impending match against Hufflepuff. Bidding their friend goodbye, the remaining Team Mysterioso members continued to comfortably chat amongst themselves about a myriad of other topics.
Suddenly, Luna sat up, eyes narrowed in concentration as she stared in a particular direction. It was Ron, Seamus, and Dean, who were joking and laughing amongst themselves as they picked a spot close to the lake to relax.
"Luna? What is it?" The blonde didn't respond to Hermione's question, just continued to stare penetratingly at the three friends. Specifically at Ron Weasley and the disturbing state of the mysterious creatures that hovered above his head.
His nargles were an uncommon shade of gray, looking quite…sickly and lethargic. Though they maintained a decent pace as all nargles were apt to, it looked as though they were going through the motions. Tiny little wrackspurts sprung chaotically around the entirety of his person, creating a disturbingly foggy haze around the ginger boy.
But that wasn't the most disturbing thing.
Right above Ron Weasley's nargles were two Blibbering Humdingers! One was the same shade of sickly gray as his nargles, expression crumpled and twisted as though it were in pain. The impossibly long fingers of the other Humdinger - inky black like the Breath of Belladonna poison - were thrust through Ron Weasley's. Trapping it…consuming it…
"Ginny," said Luna seriously. Too seriously. Enough to make the others stop what they were doing and look upon Lovegood with great concern. "Have you spoken with Ron lately?" Weasley frowned at the non sequitur.
"Um…no?" she replied in confusion. "If you haven't noticed, my brother has made it a point to not speak to me." A brief flash of sadness illuminated her features, but it was gone in a blink.
"I think you need to talk to him." Nervous glances were exchanged at the urgency in the blonde's tone.
"Luna, he doesn't want to talk to me, I can't just-"
"It doesn't matter." She tore her gaze away from Ron and his friends to stare intensely at Ginny. "Speak with him, and speak with him soon. Let him know that you're there for him, let him know that he's not alone."
"Luna what are you-"
"Say you will Ginny, promise me." Her pale gray eyes practically burned a hole through Ginny's as the rest of Team Mysterioso looked on in varying degrees of worry.
"I…alright Luna, I-I promise I will."
9:31PM
Suppressing his snarl, Jim quietly closed the door to the Transfiguration classroom, finally done with his umpteenth detention. He'd been thankful for the sage advice from Nemo's Occlumency text: 'In the midst of the enemy's attempt to crush your mind, envision your psyche as the perfect chasm, and allow yourself to sink.'
Jim had spent the entire detention nestled in the confines of his own mind, completing a surprising amount of his homework under McGonagall's gimlet eye. To his surprise, he'd had to beat back the occasional thought of hexing his Head of House silly, having to beat back Nemo's persistent whisperings 'to smite an enemy'.
Shaking off those thoughts, Jim continued his trek to the Gryffindor Common Room. He turned the corner of the hallway and paused, eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Harry." His younger brother smirked imperiously. "What the hell do you want?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just…hanging around."
"Hanging around?" Jim replied in a snarl. He stomped angrily to his still-smirking brother. "What the hell do you mean by that? What, you're stalking me now or something?" To his mounting frustration Harry didn't answer, just kept smirking.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded behind Jim. He turned around on instinct, only to freeze.
It was Harry. Five Harrys!
"What the hell is going on here?!"
But he never received a response.
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" "STUPEFY!"
Jim stiffened like a board, before losing consciousness as the Stunning Spell washed over him. The last thing he saw was a Harry standing above him, bearing an expression of unfathomably poignant hatred that spelled nothing but trouble.
For the umpteenth time, Miranda was grateful for her Occlumency shields. They'd done an excellent job of keeping her calm and focused, maintaining her mask of cool disdain while wearing the form of Harry Potter. She'd been assigned guard duty by Cassius, made to stand by the door (locked with a Colloportus Trimendium) and watch for any intruders while said cousin and his stooges took turns physically pummeling the Potter Heir into a bloody pulp for the past 15 minutes. She'd been clever enough to take and keep his wand, fearing that Cassius would break it, caught in his rage as he were.
"You've always thought yourself to be so clever, Brother." Cassius-Harry hit the Gryffindor with a haymaker punch, the force of it causing the kneeling boy - now tied up with aid of an Incarcerous Miranda had been made to cast - to bend over as he screamed and groaned in horrible pain as he coughed out blood. Cassius-Harry repeated the action on Jim's opposite side, forcing the bleeding boy to start coughing blood. The sound of his ribs cracking was an audible thing, causing Miranda to blanch in spite of herself. Jim already looked terrible; face mottled in bruises, a split bottom lip, nose crooked and swollen to almost twice its size, all topped off with a terrible black eye that was swollen shut.
Peregrine-Harry and Lucian-Harry exchanged a nervous glance, wondering if they should do something to stop Cassius from killing the Boy-Who-Lived. Pershore-Harry and Rothley-Harry also stared nervously at each other, wondering if they should take it a step further and intervene on the Boy-Who-Lived's behalf. All four had done their part in kicking around the Gryffindor Boy Wonder, but the bulk of the physical beating had been left to Cassius'...overly eager hand.
"Always thought you're so bloody special."
Cassius delivered another heavy punch to Jim's face, so hard that bloody spittle flew out of his mouth, along with one of his teeth. His stooges looked distinctly alarmed, an expression matched by Miranda's own horrified one. Cassius viciously kicked Jim a few times, causing the boy to finally tip over, unable to remain in his kneeling position. Eyes wide in bloodthirsty delight, Cassius continued to furiously kick the downed boy, even as drops of spraying blood splattered macabrely against his face.
Choking back her rising bile at the violence, Miranda gripped her wand in a vice, knuckles whitening at the sheer force. Cassius was going too far, had gone too far. She would need to intervene before her idiot cousin murdered the Savior of the Wizarding World. Miranda had long given up hope that Harry Potter hadn't dismissed her anonymous letter informing him of Cassius' intent. She imagined if he had taken her seriously, this…debacle wouldn't have occurred in the first place!
Just as Bonnevie prepared to release a non-verbal spell, several knocks thudded loudly against the locked door. It was Prefects Rossum and Weasley, screaming for them to "Open this door NOW!" Miranda could have cried in relief.
"What the hell is that?!" Cassius hissed, ceasing his repeated kicking of Jim. The Gryffindor was approaching unconsciousness, practically blind, with a body singing in pain. He struggled to breathe through his broken ribs, his every breath labored. All he could see was hazy visions of the Four Harrys, bearing varying expressions of anger and fright.
"Sounds like Weasley and Rossum," replied Miranda. She'd made sure to school her expression into a highly convincing frown.
"How the hell did they know where we are?" Rothley-Harry asked, eyes widening in panic.
"Weasley is the Gryffindor Prefect; I reckon McGonagall sent him to look for Potter when the filthy halfblood didn't make it back to the Common Room. Might've told Dumbledore too." That brought Cassius up short, causing the boy to swear passionately.
"We need to get out of here," said Derrick-Harry frantically. At this point, Miranda could feel the magic of the door's lock destabilizing, very close to being unlocked.
"How in Merlin's saggy y-fronts are we meant to do that?" Bole-Harry exclaimed.
"Over there!", replied Miranda, gesturing to a closet door. "Those doors lead directly into an adjoining classroom at the end of the opposite corridor, far away from here. Let's go!" And with that, the five made their exit just as the Prefects finally got the door to open. As she ran by the now unconscious Jim Potter, she made sure to place his wand a few feet away from his body.
As she closed the exit door behind her, Bonnevie felt a chill run through her person at Rossum's horrified screams, hoping the Gryffindors weren't too late.
Hospital Wing, Five Hours Later…
Jim laid quietly in his bed, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.
He'd spent the past few hours being treated for his injuries by a horrified Madame Pomfrey before being allowed to rest for a few moments. After he'd awoken, he'd been bloody interrogated by the Headmaster, his Head of House, and Snape, wanting to know exactly what had happened. They'd even taken a copy of his memory to confirm. Though McGonagall and Dumbledore had been deeply troubled by the events he'd described, it seemed none were willing to believe him. It seemed the real Harry (Jim snorted), along with Diggory and Finch-Fletchley had spent the evening meeting with Professor Flitwick, hoping to get some dueling pointers and general advice that could aid them in the drills with Team Counterstrike.
'A bloody rock-solid alibi.' It took everything in Jim's power not to scream in frustration. His estranged brother had gotten some of his snake lackeys to try to kill him, and no one believed him. Even with memory-proof, they still didn't believe him. It stung more than he would ever care to admit.
Soon, Jim closed his eyes and allowed sleep to claim him. His feelings of rage, humiliation, and sheer helplessness thudded through him, unwilling to release him from their clutches. With a deep breath, Jim allowed Mr. Nemo's advice to flow through him:
'Take all those negative feelings and squish them down into a tiny ball deep in the pit of your stomach until you can freely unleash them all at once on your enemy.'
If Luna Lovegood had been present, she would have balked in sheer horror at the size of the wrackspurt nestled deep within Jim's gut, greedily gorging down the massive fury-flies the Potter Heir eagerly fed to it.
What would be more horrifying, is that there would be almost no more room in the creature.
21 January 1993 - Great Hall, 1:43PM
"EVERTE STATUM!"
A quick Averto parried Jim's overpowered Pushback Jinx, as Harry countered with one of his own. It seemed Brother Dearest had been practicing, because he parried the spell away and before responding with an overpowered Furnunculus that forced his younger brother to duck as he swore internally.
The two brothers had been at it for almost 20 minutes in what was the third demonstration of Lockhart's Dueling & Defense Association, this time solely encompassing members of Team Counterstrike. Justin and Cedric had tied their round, much to the delight of most of the audience gathered in the Great Hall. Professor Sprout had been especially chuffed at how well her two Badgers had performed.
But now, it was essentially another battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin as the Potter Twins dueled each other fiercely. Neither had been able to successfully disarm the other, though not for lack of trying. Though Harry would never admit it out loud, he was quite disturbed at the expression of calm rage his older brother wore. His eyes, so much like his brother's own, glimmered with a cold and almost…homicidal malice that the younger Potter wouldn't have thought him capable of.
Though Harry wasn't too surprised; Jim still believed that his younger brother had schemed to kidnap and attack him, using Polyjuice Potion to make his snakey friends look like Harry, all while they beat him to near death. Though the younger Potter had a rock-solid alibi for the night of the attack, the Professors were still very suspicious that someone in Slytherin had been involved, using Harry as a convincing proxy to exact revenge against the precious Boy-Who-Lived. It annoyed the Slytherin Potter just how accurate that theory was, just barely repressing the urge to curse Cassius Warrington's name.
"DIFFINDO!" The Slicing Spell shook Harry out of his musings. Averto knocked the spell into the Certamen shield, exploding in a shower of acid green sparks. Harry quickly countered.
"FLIPENDO!" "VERTIGO!" "EXPELLIARMUS!"
Jim blocked the first but wasn't too quick for the second, wobbling and swaying as he dove to the side to avoid the Disarmer. Harry quickly pressed his advantage.
"CONCUSSUS!" "SYRTES!"
To his amazement, Jim - still swaying from the Vertigo Jinx - was able to parry away the Concussion Hex then backflip away from the quicksand stage. Jim's cry of "DURO!" hardened the sinking part of the stage to stone, stopping the spell in its track. In any other context, Harry would have been impressed at the older boy's ingenious thinking.
With an enraged snarl Jim rose to face his brother, expression contorted in absolute rage. All the Potter Heir could hear rambling in his mind were the words of Mr. Nemo:
'Imagine your festering rage as barbs of poisoned steel to rain down on your enemy.'
"LACERO TRIA!"
'Allow your wrath to bubble over, let their flames fuel your magic to smite your enemy.'
"INCENDIO!"
'Let there be no mercy, only vengeance.'
"EXPULSO!"
Jim smiled in cruel satisfaction as his first spell struck, causing bleeding cuts to appear over Harry's chest and arms. He wanted to break his younger brother.
Crush him physically, as Harry had done to him.
Strip him of his dignity, as Harry had done to him.
Render him absolutely powerless in humiliation, as Harry had done to him.
In the background, Lockhart's furious scream to "DISARM ONLY!" fell on deaf fears, as did the increasing muttering (and in some cases screams) of their shocked classmates.
"W-WADDIWASI!" Four thick green wads of slime shot out of Harry's wand in response. Jim blocked the first two but the third and fourth struck his mouth and eyes, effectively blinding and silencing him.
Growling in rage, Jim quickly vanished the slime as best as he could, before having to duck (and swear) as Harry's own Laceros almost sliced his face open. In a flash the Potter Heir jumped up, eyes aglow in murderous wrath.
'Let only blood and bone remain.'
"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"
Harry's eyes widened as he watched the Explosion Charm fly directly at him, the cool blue glow of its pulsing light in seeming contradiction with its lethal intent.
Thinking quickly, he dilated his perception to allow himself more time.
THUMP.
One heartbeat allowed him to make a sharp dive to the right, just as the spell landed where his body had occupied. Large chunks of debris broke off in the explosion and slashed against his face and body, creating several bloodied cuts and bruises. Harry shook his head, ears ringing from the aftermath of the spell. Merciless, Jim continued to press his advantage.
"DEFODIO!" Harry barely parried away the Gouging Hex, still attempting to gain his footing. He wouldn't get the chance.
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" "CONCUSSUS MAXIMA!"
The younger Potter stiffened and froze, though he didn't drop his wand. The overpowered Concussion Hex crashed into him like a ton of bricks, physically lifting him to crash headfirst into the Certamen shield. His head snapped against the shield's magic - now like a physical thing - and then, pain. It filled the entirety of his head and his body, the force of it so strong he felt blood drip from his nose and pool into his mouth.
"C'MON!", screamed Jim, his expression absolutely maniacal. "GET UP! GET UP AND FIGHT ME!"
At this point Lockhart, along with Professors Flitwick, Snape, and Dumbledore, had taken to casting spells at the Certamen shield surrounding the stage, trying to bring it down so they could stop Jim from cursing his brother into oblivion. Unfortunately, they weren't having much luck, wondering what in Merlin's name could have altered the Deflection Shield in such a manner that it was nigh impervious to the combined magicks of four powerful mages.
"I SAID GET UP!" Jim gestured wildly before striking in a pique of rage: "SERPENSORTIA!"
As though made of treacle, Harry's wand arm slowly rose. He was too disoriented, too pained to think of a spell in retaliation. Averto wouldn't be enough to stave off his older brother's wrath. No, he needed something stronger, but the pain was too great for him to just bloody focus. All he could do was will his magic to shield him, protect him. In response, his wand seemingly raised of its own volition and let loose a brilliant beam of white light.
And then, came the deafening BOOM!.
The instant the two spells crossed and impacted with each other, a glowing ball of pulsing blinding white light. It expanded quickly, rubbing against the Certaman shield at the edges of the dueling platform, before shattering it with great force, knocking down most of the people around the platform in the process. Though not close to the platform, several screaming students began their panicked descent from their pews and fled from the Great Hall.
The glowing sphere shot out two tendrils of energy, one towards each of the Potter Twins. Harry was slowly losing his energy, slowly losing his grasp on consciousness really. The tendril closest to him touched the tip of his wand, made shocks of pure electricity run over his fingers and up his arms. Instinctively, he fought back, pushing his magic through the connection between his wand and the sphere, pushing it away from his person and towards his equally determined brother. The sphere moved away for a few moments, before pushing back towards his younger brother. Harry's magic would not abide by that, pushing the sphere back.
The two brothers engaged in a seemingly endless tug-of-war for a few seconds, neither willing to budge as the sphere grew more massive, accompanied by…angry hissing! For just a second, the sphere moved away from Harry and towards Jim. Then, it stopped suddenly before jerking back a few feet towards Harry, who could somehow feel his brother pushing the ball towards him.
'Oh no you don't,' Harry thought angrily before he pushed more of himself into the sphere, which wavered between the two boys before remaining in place. Then, it started to slowly expand and grow brighter as both twins pushed against it. And from inside the glowing sphere the angry hissing grew louder and deeper as the sphere expanded.
Suddenly, the sphere stopped dead-center before exploding with a large BOOM!
In its place…was a SNAKE ABOMINATION!
Over thirty feet long and three-feet in diameter at the widest point, the snake was covered with shiny emerald green scales which appeared to be made of mithril-like metal. But the most striking feature of the snake was its eyes – they burned, literally burned with an unholy green fire as luminous as the light of a Killing Curse. Twisting around, the snake focused its attention on the largest mass of screaming students in the pews, opened its wide maw, and breathed a powerful gout of poisonous green flame directly towards them.
Dumbledore and Snape were fast, successfully casting a mass and overpowered Protego Horribilis shield to protect the frightened students. Both grunted in pain, somehow able to feel the heat of the flames though their combined shields. The other professors on hand tried their best to usher students out of the Great Hall, but too many were too panicked to make their way out in any sensible manner, causing a bottleneck of frightened children to practically block the entrance. Lockhart, Flitwick, and several older students (mainly OWL and NEWT-level) cast what spells they could, but the snake seemed to have magic resistant scales.
Suddenly, the creature let out a roar that caused the platform, pews, and the very windows in the halls to rattle violently. From his downed position on his end of the platform, a now very woozy Harry - head spinning from a concussion and blood loss - was surprised to realize he could understand it despite the snake's highly abnormal nature.
"PAIN! WHY DOESsSsS IT HURT SsSSsSO MUCH?!"
One of the older Slytherins standing near fired off a Cutting Hex at the creature which had no effect except to draw its attention and make it angrier. The cries of terror crescendoed as the snake opened its maw to unleash a gout of flame that struck the floor near the fleeing students, generating a small explosion and knocking most of them to the ground. A second later, another gout of flame targeted the helpless students, but at the last second, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Draco Malfoy, as one, interposed themselves and cast overlapping Protego Maxima spells. Both boys screamed in pain as the unearthly green flames struck, but the shields held and none of the students were burned. Even angrier now, the serpent cast about for some other target and saw one: a bleeding and near unconscious Harry Potter.
From the opposite side of the platform, Jim Potter marveled at the absurdity of the choice he currently faced. If he did nothing, the snake would likely kill his damnable brother, officially ending their rivalry. The words of Mr. Nemo rattled around in his head, urging him to do nothing as it would ensure the smiting of his enemy. In spite of himself, Jim shook off the words of his Occlumency teacher.
The other option would be to save his brother, the same slimy snake brother who'd orchestrated a madman's scheme that had left the Potter Heir beaten almost to death. And in doing so, reveal his deepest darkest secret. That the Boy-Who-Lived was, in fact, a Parselmouth, the mark of the darkest type of wizard there could be. Internally, Jim let out a stream of expletives that would have utterly scandalized Professor McGonagall - enough to take off multiple house points - if she'd been in the vicinity to hear.
Just as Harry finally lost the last remaining bit of consciousness he possessed, he heard his brother - The Gryffindor Git Extraordinaire and Savior of the Wizarding World - draw a deep breath.
And then…JIM POTTER HISSED!
Hospital Wing, 5:09PM
With a groan, Harry slowly regained consciousness, scowling at the pervasive scent of analgesic he associated with the Hospital Wing. In a flash Madame Pomfrey was at his side, casting diagnostic charms and shoveling rather foul-smelling potions down his gullet while he did his best not to fuss and gag.
"Oh be calm Mr. Potter. They're to help you. You suffered a pretty serious concussion, though no damage to your temporal lobe as far as I can tell. Thank Merlin for that, it's the portion of your brain that handles speech and communication. If you're unable to understand something that someone else says, to remember words that you understood before yesterday, or any other problems with communication, it will mean that it's damaged." Harry's eyes widened in brief alarm. "Not to worry though, my diagnostic charms haven't revealed anything like that. Still, you'll be kept here for observation overnight, and checked again tomorrow. Should the damage be more severe, I'll send you off to St. Mungo's for a neuromagical exam. I'll send an elf for your supper in an hour, then give you a sedative to help you sleep and heal properly. Now lie back!"
Quickly doing as he was told, Pomfrey cast a few more charms before nodding in satisfaction and making her way back to her office. A few minutes passed before the Hospital Wing doors opened to reveal Harry's friends.
"Thank Circe you're alright!" Hermione rushed in and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug, causing the rest of his friends to chortle in amusement. She sweetly fussed over him as the others made their way over, expressing their relief at seeing him alive and well.
"How bad was it?" asked Hermione worriedly.
"Not too bad," responded Harry. "According to Madame Pomfrey I had a pretty bad concussion, but there's no obvious damage to my temporal lobe." Hermione and Blaise's eyes widened as Theo and Neville stared in confusion at the strange term.
"No obvious damage?"
"Nope!" He squeezed Hermione's hand firmly. "She says she'll check again in the morning to make sure I'm in the clear, but for now, everything should be fine." Though not completely convinced, Hermione still nodded.
"So…how's the fallout with the Git?" Several nervous glances were exchanged.
"Um…not too good at this point." Neville fidgeted uncomfortably for a few moments before continuing. "Pretty much all of the Gryffindors are convinced he's the Heir of Slytherin and responsible for the whole Chamber of Secrets fracas. There are…whisperings from all the Houses that Jim is a budding Dark Lord and Death Eater protégé, with some believing that he acquired the skill from You-Know-Who the night he vanquished him. In some sort of really weird 'right-of-conquest' type of thing." Longbottom rolled his eyes at the absurdity. "Things…things really aren't looking good for him at all."
"Hm…how unfortunate." Harry sneered, before suddenly yelping as Hermione pinched him.
"Don't gloat Harry, it's unbecoming." Potter just pouted as his friends snickered. "I can't say I blame you though…that duel earlier was…well…I imagine that Jim was trying his darndest to…well…"
"Kill him?" Theo replied hotly. "Yeah, I reckon he was."
"Indeed. As you all already know he's convinced I set up some insane plot to tie him up and beat him to death." Harry fought the urge to curse Cassius Warrington's name for that equally violent and successful plot. "Thankfully the Professors didn't believe his nonsense as I had an actual alibi, but still. He attempted to kill me as a result of some psychopath's twisted plan. Bloody lucky to be alive I am."
"Here here!" Theo exclaimed, leveling a challenging look at Hermione and Neville. Thankfully, both were clever enough not to respond.
After a few moments, Neville unholstered his wand and cast a bevy of security charms, startling his friends. "Harry…" said Neville quietly. "If you were a Parselmouth ... you'd tell us, right?" Theo was very careful not to react.
Harry chuckled and smiled at his friend. "Oh honestly, Neville," he replied in a reassuring voice. "Of course not."
"Okay that's ... wait, what?" The other boy seemed mildly offended as Hermione frowned.
"Neville, I trust you as much as anyone in the world. But if I were a Parselmouth, there would be absolutely no upside to telling a highly honorable, morally upstanding Gryffindor who is obviously upset at the way my brother is being treated for having the same gift."
Neville frowned. "Harry..."
"No, stop. Let me just stop you right there. Right now, people think Jim acquired Parseltongue from You-Know-Who, which is plausible, I suppose. If Jim had any sense, he'd be playing that up, claiming that of course that's where he got it. That he defeated The Dark Lord as a baby and he did acquire the power through some sort of magical 'right of conquest' thing. Weirder things have happened. And if he did, I'm sure Rita Skeeter would print an article to that effect, everyone would believe it, and his fan club would all buy snake familiars so that he could translate for them and he'd be even more popular than before."
Harry held up a finger. "But, if I were a Parselmouth too, that would mean that he and I both inherited it, most likely through our mother, which would mean that we're all three descended from Salazar Slytherin. Now you tell me – would it really improve things for Jim if it were proven that he and I were both the Heirs of Slytherin, and James Potter disowned him for doing so? He's already called the paternity of his own heir into question with his affair claim debacle. Do you really think Lord Potter is evolved enough to not disown his own son upon discovery of such a thing? Especially after cursing my mother?" Neville grimaced at the latter statement, before nodding in acceptance.
"You're completely certain you can't talk to snakes?" asked Theo, doing his part to help convince their Gryffindor friends.
"Yes," Harry responded in annoyance, doing his part to ensure the ruse was successful. "I can't talk to snakes."
"Yeah, well, stranger things have happened." Theo shrugged.
"Uh huh," replied Harry with a roll of his eyes. "Just keep running up that hill mate." It was Theo's turn to roll his eyes as Neville snickered.
Hermione, on the other hand, merely narrowed her eyes at her friend, realizing that he, in fact, had not answered Neville's question. In a flash, she unholstered her wand.
"SERPENSORTIA!"
A milk snake shot out of her wand to land in a shocked Harry's lap, who jolted out of the bed and screamed in panic all while attempting to get the angry snake off of him. Theo quickly Vanished the snake before glaring at a now abashed Hermione, as Harry gave a very convincing performance of getting his heart back to a normal rate.
"Bloody hell Hermione, are you trying to kill me?!"
"I'm so sorry Harry!" She looked absolutely embarrassed. "I…I realized you hadn't actually answered Neville's question about not being a Parselmouth and I figured, 'what's an easier way to check that to summon a snake and see what he does?'" Hermione was bright red now, looking away in embarrassment. "M'sorry." Potter was silent for a few very tense moments, before wrapping an arm around her in a hug.
"Don't worry Hermione, I forgive you." He gave her a rather cheeky smile. "Rather Slytherin of you to do that though…you sure there isn't a serpent hidden beneath the lion's mane?" He tugged playfully at her curls, causing her to swat his hand away impatiently as their friends chuckled.
The Following Morning, The Lair…
Harry and his Inner Circle were currently regrouping after the previous day's dramatic events. Notably, Jim Potter's public reveal as a Parselmouth and being the forerunner as the 'Heir of Slytherin' and therefore, the cause of Professor Evans - his mother's - petrification. There were several theories being bandied about in Slytherin; some believed that Jim had secured the Parseltongue ability from You-Know-Who on the night he was vanquished, others believed that it was a mere fluke of magic, while quite a few others believed that Jim may have been fathered by the Dark Lord himself, a theory that had Harry rolling his eyes at the absurdity of it all. Draco and Blaise noted that Cassius had been acting very strangely, more nervous than naught. Bole and Derrick hadn't been too far off either.
"So, I'm going to assume that you're going to let everyone continue to think that Jim is the only Parseltongue in your family?" Marcus leveled an amused look in Harry's direction as Draco and Blaise snorted in unison.
"Oh, absolutely." Potter's eyes glinted in malicious delight. "The Git-Who-Lived almost killed me today in his rage-fest, I'm in no mood to grant him any kind of favor in that regard. He's spent the entirety of his life thinking Slytherin is comprised of nothing more than murderous junior Death Eaters and Dark Lord arselickers. Me included. Besides, with everyone focused on Jim being the Heir of Slytherin, it will give us ample cover to further our inquiries into exactly who the Heir of Slytherin is and what the whole Chamber of Secrets business is about."
"Does the Hydra not know?" asked Draco quietly.
Harry frowned at the serpents. "They do know, but unfortunately, they were sworn to Secrecy by the Prince Emeritus who occupied the Throne when the whole Heir of Slytherin first came about." He scowled, once more wishing that Tom Riddle wasn't so much of a Slytherin that he needed a bloody Fidelius to conceal such an important secret. "Anywho, since I'm a mere Claimant underling and not a Sitting Prince, it won't give me even a bit of a clue as to what it all means."
Harry turned fully towards the Hydra. "Still, I can ask if any of the other serpents I haven't had a chance to speak with today have seen anything."
"The Hydra knows all of that?" asked Ginny incredulously.
"Of course! The Throne is the fulcrum upon which all of Hogwarts' gossip sits." He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily, before hissing at the Throne in Parseltongue. Theo and Marcus shuddered in unison, still not quite used to the shivers that it sent down their backs.
The Hydra didn't respond.
After a few seconds, Harry hissed at it again. And then a third time with more urgency. At that point, his friends all grew visibly alarmed. Now visibly panicked, Harry started hissing angrily at the other chairs in the Lair, but the brass adder finials on the chair backs ignored him just as resolutely as the Hydra. Theo grabbed Harry by the shoulder, and the boy turned to him and started hissing incoherently.
"English, Harry! I don't speak Parseltongue! English!"
Harry was now shaking all over and breathing quickly. "The snakes ... won't answer me ... they won't..." Then, his eyes widened in horror as Madame Pomfrey's words from the previous evening came rushing back to him.
"P-Parseltongue!" he gasped. "The concussion! Brain damage. My Parseltongue's gone!"
And with the realization of that bit of unpleasant shock, Harry Potter went into a seizure.
In a flash, Draco jumped out of his chair to catch Harry before he could fall to the ground, cradling his head as best as he could as he gently guided the still-convulsing boy down. He yelled for Eurus and Ginny to hold his legs and Theo and Luna to hold his arms, lest he injured himself with his bucking. With a short "I'll get a Calming Drought!", Marcus practically ran out of the Lair.
"What the hell's wrong with him?!" asked Theo in a panic.
"His Occlumency shields are buckling," replied Draco, doing his best to keep Harry steady. "Too many stressful events all happening at once and from what I can tell, he hasn't kept up with his meditative decompression exercises like he should. His emotional shields are collapsing, and all of the sudden, he's feeling ... everything. Harry! HARRY!" Draco yelled directly into Harry's face and tried to get the boy to focus on his voice, but it wasn't helping.
"Blimey, his nargles are going mad." Luna's face was white as she stared directly above Harry's head.
"Blaise!" The boy's head snapped up at Draco's sharp voice. "I need you to help Harry get into his White Crystal Room." Blaise's eyes widened. "He needs an anchor to get there, and I'm not nearly a good enough Legilimens to guide him. I'll keep his head steady. Do it, NOW!"
Blaise stared at Draco intensely for three whole seconds, before nodding sharply. Prying Potter's eyelids open with his fingers, he stared deep into Harry's green eyes. "LEGILIMENS," he whispered. At that, Harry went rigid, and Blaise leaned forward, unblinking, until their foreheads touched. Then, Zabini let out a hiss of sudden intense pain as their minds joined and he started shouldering the burden of Harry's roiling emotions until his friend could gain control of himself.
A few tense moments ticked by until Harry finally stilled, his seizure subsiding. At the same time, Marcus ran back into the room carrying his personal stash of Calming Draught. Immediately he pulled out one, yanked off the stopper, and poured the contents down Harry's throat as Blaise slowly released his grip and stood up.
"Give him another," Malfoy ordered. "He needs to rest and recover before he can meditate usefully." Marcus hesitated for just a second before pulling out another vial as instructed and pouring it down Harry's throat. Harry's eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay awake. Then, for just a second, his brow furrowed, and he looked up at Blaise in bleary confusion.
"What's a Deathly Hallow?" he asked with a thick voice before lapsing into unconsciousness. Marcus, Theo, and Ginny turned to look at Blaise in confusion, just as Eurus leveled a sharp glare that Draco didn't fail to notice.
"I have absolutely no idea why he asked me that," Blaise said firmly. "No idea whatsoever."
From her vantage, Luna could only frown as she glared at a spot just above Zabini's head. 'Liar.'
AN 1: Cassius is most definitely a little psychopath, bloody violent to boot. We'll see how Attack Jim-Gate will play out well enough.