CHAPTER 47: THE WILLOW'S WRATH
Harry stood silently next to Pansy, who was screaming uncontrollably, her face pale with horror. Draco and Theo were frozen in shock, their eyes wide as they took in the chaotic scene in the Great Hall. Debris was scattered everywhere, and students huddled together, whispering frantically. Dumbledore was moving swiftly between groups, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something akin to panic.
Daphne lay motionless on the floor, her breaths shallow and labored. She was still alive—just barely. The Ravenclaw Quidditch team, who had been out practicing, had encountered a group of Dementors hovering too close for comfort. The captain, acting on instinct, led the team away quickly, heading for the Covered Bridge as it was the fastest route back to their common room. It was then that they spotted Daphne, plummeting from one of the castle's towers. They had barely managed to slow her descent, but despite their best efforts, she had crashed violently onto the jagged rocks below.
Her injuries were severe—several vertebrae were shattered, one of her lungs had been punctured, and a deep concussion had forced her into a magical coma. Madam Pomfrey was doing all she could, but it was clear to everyone that Daphne might not wake up anytime soon, if at all.
Harry felt a slight pang of regret, a fleeting emotion that he quickly pushed aside. His plans always came first, and he had made sure to cover his tracks meticulously. The odds of anyone suspecting a fellow Slytherin were slim, but Harry wasn't one to take unnecessary risks. Immediately after Daphne's fall, he had unleashed a few well-placed charms that conjured the roar of a lion and sent scarlet and gold sparks shooting into the sky. Now, the Gryffindor Tower was under scrutiny, with several students being questioned about the attempted murder.
"Who could have done this?" Pansy whispered, her voice trembling as she clung to Harry's arm. Her eyes were fixed on Daphne's lifeless form, and Harry could feel her nails digging into his skin.
"I don't know," Harry replied, his voice calm and steady, though his mind was racing. "But whoever it was, they'll pay for this."
Draco stepped forward, his face set in a grim line. "We need to find out who's responsible," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "No one attacks one of our own and gets away with it."
Theo nodded in agreement, his fists clenched at his sides. "This was deliberate. Someone wanted her dead."
Harry merely nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. He was almost certain that Daemon had been sneaking out with his Invisibility Cloak. The cloak, after all, was a perfect tool for someone who wanted to move unseen, to strike without being noticed.
Weeks passed after the attack, and the tension in the castle only grew. Whispers of the attempted murder echoed through the halls, and the atmosphere was thick with suspicion and fear. Students avoided the Covered Bridge, and the Gryffindors, especially, were watched closely, their every move scrutinized.
In Potions class one day, something unusual happened. As Professor Snape moved between the desks, his usually sharp eyes scanning the students' work, he suddenly stumbled, catching himself on the edge of Harry's desk.
Harry's head snapped up instantly, his quill pausing mid-sentence. His emerald eyes locked onto Snape's, watching as the professor straightened himself, a flicker of something—pain, perhaps—crossing his features.
"Sir, are you alright?" Harry asked, his voice laced with concern, though his mind was alert, analyzing every detail.
Snape's eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to read something in Harry's expression. "I'm fine, Potter," he replied curtly, his voice as sharp as ever, though there was a hint of strain. "Continue with your work."
As Snape moved away, Coilis, the small snake Harry had kept hidden in his robes, wriggled his way out, his tiny tongue flicking the air. Harry barely acknowledged him, his thoughts racing. What had caused Snape to stumble? It was a minor slip, but in a place like Hogwarts, nothing was ever just a coincidence.
He continued to write, his quill gliding across the parchment with practiced ease, but his mind was elsewhere, piecing together the intricate puzzle that was unfolding around him. Whatever was happening, Harry knew he had to stay one step ahead. The game was far from over, and he wasn't about to lose.
As he observed Snape, Harry noticed something subtle—a slight twitch in the professor's left arm, followed by a tightening of his jaw. It was a nearly imperceptible movement, but to Harry, it was a clear sign that something was wrong.
"Master, your father is calling him," Coilis hissed gently from his hidden perch within Harry's robes. The words slithered into Harry's ears, confirming what he had already suspected.
Without drawing any attention to himself, Harry carefully inscribed a tiny message at the bottom of his parchment, the letters so small they were nearly invisible: 'I know.'
As soon as the ink dried, he swiftly erased the message with a discreet spell, leaving no trace behind. Coilis, sensing the tension in the air, tasted it with his forked tongue, hissing softly in satisfaction. The atmosphere in the classroom was thick with unease, and Harry could almost smell the fear radiating from Snape.
The class ended earlier than usual, with students muttering their frustrations about not being able to finish their sight-enhancing potion. Harry lingered behind as the others filed out, his gaze fixed on Snape. The professor stood rigidly at his desk, his right hand clenched around his left arm as if trying to stifle the pain that was clearly surging through it. His father was calling, and it was clear from Snape's expression that the summons was anything but pleasant.
Harry's curiosity was piqued, but he knew better than to intervene. Instead, he watched silently as Snape finally gathered his things and swept out of the room, his robes billowing behind him like a dark shadow. Harry waited a few moments before following, careful to maintain a nonchalant demeanor as he left the classroom.
The next day, Snape didn't return. Harry half-expected it, but it still sent a ripple through the student body. Whispers circulated through the halls—rumors of Snape being summoned by the Dark Lord, of him fleeing, of something far worse. But no one knew for sure.
Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of Snape. The once-frigid air of January gave way to February's lingering chill, and as March approached, the snow began to melt. Hogwarts slowly began to shake off the winter's grip, but the absence of the Potions Master left a cold void that no amount of sunlight could warm.
In Snape's place, a new professor had been brought in—Horace Slughorn, an older man with a round belly and a paranoid disposition. Slughorn had once been a respected teacher, but now he was a shadow of his former self, his eyes constantly darting around the room as if expecting danger at every turn. He was gullible, easily swayed by the students, and it was clear that fear gripped him tightly.
March was fast approaching, and with it, the end of the school year seemed both too near and too far. Harry found himself unusually calm, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy that seemed to consume everyone else. He often walked through the halls lost in thought, the pieces of his plan slowly clicking into place.
One day, as he rounded a corner, his thoughts elsewhere, he abruptly collided with something—or rather, someone. The impact jolted him back to the present, and he stumbled slightly before regaining his balance.
Looking up, Harry found himself face to face with a large, spitting Kneazle, its fur bristling and its sharp eyes locked onto him with fierce determination. Before he could react, the creature lunged at his face, hissing violently. Harry barely had time to duck, instinctively pulling back his holster to grab his wand. But the Kneazle was faster—it sank its sharp teeth into his arm, causing a searing pain that made Harry cry out and drop his wand.
"Back off, feline!" Coilis hissed angrily, springing from Harry's robes with lightning speed. The small snake launched itself at the Kneazle, attempting to coil around its midsection and force it to release Harry. The Kneazle yowled in pain as Coilis's tight coils began to constrict around its chest, but the cat was a formidable opponent. It twisted and thrashed, its claws raking against Coilis's scales, and its teeth digging into the snake's sensitive flesh.
Gritting his teeth against the pain in his arm, Harry reached out and grabbed the Kneazle by the scruff of its neck, pulling it free with a sharp tug. The creature hissed and writhed in his grip, its small bell jingling with each movement. Harry's eyes narrowed as he noticed the inscription on the collar: 'If lost, return to Daemon Potter.'
Of course, Harry thought bitterly, Daemon would have bought a Kneazle—probably thinking it would make him look more important, or maybe he just liked the idea of a pet that could hunt snakes.
"Master," Coilis hissed in warning, his voice laced with pain, "these species of feline are known throughout the forest as the snake hunters."
The Kneazle, now subdued, hung limply in Harry's grip, its head lowered in defeat as Coilis glared at it with bared fangs.
Before Harry could decide what to do next, a voice echoed down the corridor. "Hey! Let Snickers go!"
Harry turned to see Daemon Potter, his younger half-brother, rounding the corner at a run. A large black dog was by his side, its lips curled back in a snarl. Daemon clutched a piece of parchment tightly in his pudgy hand, his face red with exertion.
Coilis, sensing the new threat, hissed aggressively, pulling back slightly as the dog lunged forward, barking furiously. "Master! Let me bite! Let me kill!" Coilis shrieked, his tail thrashing in the air as he prepared to strike.
Harry, however, remained calm. With a swift motion, he tossed the Kneazle—Snickers—back toward Daemon, who fumbled but managed to catch the squirming creature. The dog, seeing Snickers returned, hesitated before retreating to Daemon's side, still growling softly.
"You bought a feline and a dog for Hogwarts? What are you afraid of?" Harry asked, his voice cold and laced with contempt. Coilis slithered closer, his eyes fixed on the dog, tongue flicking as he tested the air for any sign of aggression.
Daemon scowled, holding Snickers close to his chest. "Why not? You're always hiding behind that bloody snake of yours—" He was cut off by a furious hiss from Coilis, who coiled back as if ready to strike, his eyes gleaming with anger.
Harry blinked slowly, his gaze never leaving Daemon's. "Careful, Daemon," he said in a low, dangerous tone. "You might want to think twice before insulting something you don't understand. Especially when it could kill you before you could blink."
Daemon hesitated, his grip on Snickers tightening as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other. The black dog at his side seemed to sense the tension, its growls subsiding as it looked between the two brothers.
"Why did you bring them here, Daemon?" Harry continued, his voice now measured, almost casual, but with an edge that made it clear he was not to be trifled with. "Are you trying to protect yourself? Or are you just playing a game you don't know the rules to?"
Daemon's eyes darted away, avoiding Harry's intense gaze. "I'm not scared of you, Harry," he muttered, though the waver in his voice betrayed his bravado. "Just stay away from me."
With that, Daemon turned sharply on his heel, clutching Snickers and the map tightly as he hurried down the corridor. The black dog followed closely, glancing back at Harry and Coilis with a final growl before disappearing around the corner.
Harry watched them go, his expression unreadable. Coilis slithered back up to his usual spot, still seething with anger. "Master," he hissed quietly, "next time, I won't hesitate."
Harry gave a small nod, his mind already turning to the implications of this encounter. Daemon's sudden acquisition of a Kneazle and a dog at Hogwarts was more than just a childish whim. It was a sign of something deeper, something that Harry needed to be prepared for.
"Don't worry, Coilis," Harry murmured, picking up his wand from the floor and tucking it back into his holster. "There won't be a next time."
As he turned to leave, the weight of the situation settled on Harry. The game was becoming more complicated, but that was exactly how he liked it. The stakes were rising, and he was more than ready to play.
"I have told you multiple times, Potter, Morsus understands everything you say," Harry said coldly, his voice dripping with disdain.
"As can Snuffles!" Daemon shouted back defiantly, pointing at the black dog, which responded with a low growl, baring its fangs. Harry's eyes narrowed, studying the dog closely. Something about it was off, more than just its aggressive posture. There was an unnatural intensity in its eyes, a flicker of something dark and uncontrolled.
"You find it necessary to acquire a beast after Morsus' example?" Harry asked, his tone challenging.
"You wish, you slimy git!" Daemon shot back, his face flushed with anger.
Harry's jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed with a dangerous light. He was about to turn away, his anger simmering beneath the surface, when his gaze flicked to the covered bridge on his right—the same bridge Daphne had fallen from not long ago. The memory of her fall and the chaos it caused flickered in his mind, but he quickly pushed it aside, focusing on the present.
"Master!" Coilis's urgent hiss was the only warning Harry received before the black dog, Snuffles, lunged at him with startling speed. Harry managed to roll just in time, avoiding a direct hit to his skull, but the impact threw him off balance. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him as he landed with a painful thud. His wand slipped from his grasp, rolling ominously toward the edge of the bridge where the dog now stood, growling menacingly.
"Snuffles!" Daemon cried out in dismay, but Coilis was already in action. The snake uncoiled himself with a speed that belied his size, positioning himself between Harry and the dog. Coilis thrashed his tail and puffed up his body, making himself appear even larger and more intimidating. His golden eyes glinted dangerously as they took on a reddish hue.
"Back off, mutt! I will strike, without venom perhaps, but nobody harms my Master!" Coilis hissed, his voice filled with lethal intent. Despite the threat, the dog didn't back down, its growls growing louder, more feral.
Harry's gaze flicked to Daemon, who was visibly torn, his face pale and his hands trembling slightly. "Call your dog off, or it's dead!" Harry spat, summoning his wand back to his hand with a quick gesture. He glared at Daemon, ready to hex him on the spot if he didn't act quickly.
But instead of backing down, Daemon seemed to find a burst of courage—or perhaps desperation. With a flick of his wrist, he pointed his wand directly at Harry and shouted, "Aquaflumen!"
Harry's eyes widened in shock. Where had Daemon learned such a spell? The answer didn't matter, as there was no time to react. A massive torrent of water erupted from Daemon's wand, the force of it knocking Harry, Coilis, the dog, and even Daemon himself off their feet. The water spout blasted through the air, sending them all flying out of the bridge and onto the unforgiving ground below.
Harry's body hit the earth hard, the impact jarring his bones and leaving him momentarily dazed. He rolled painfully to a stop near a tree that loomed ominously above him. His vision swam as he tried to regain his bearings, but the situation only grew worse.
"What is this magiks ty—oh dear Salazar," Coilis whimpered, his usual bravado replaced with fear as he caught sight of the tree. It wasn't just any tree; it was the Whomping Willow, and it was already rearing back, its massive branches preparing to strike.
Harry's heart raced as he realized the danger they were in. The Whomping Willow was known for its violent tendencies, and they were within striking distance. He shot a sour look at Daemon, who was struggling to get to his feet, his face pale with fear. Snuffles, the black dog, was shaking off the water, but even it seemed wary of the deadly tree.
"We need to move, now!" Harry shouted, pushing himself up despite the pain that shot through his body. Coilis, sensing the urgency, slithered back to Harry's side, his body coiled and ready to defend.
Daemon hesitated, glancing between Harry, the Whomping Willow, and his dog, who was growling lowly at the approaching danger. But before anyone could make another move, the tree's massive branch came swinging down with terrifying speed.
Harry barely had time to react. He grabbed Daemon by the collar and yanked him out of the way, narrowly avoiding the branch that smashed into the ground where they had just been standing. The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the earth, but Harry didn't pause. He dragged Daemon with him as they scrambled to get out of the Whomping Willow's reach, Coilis slithering alongside them with surprising speed.
Snuffles barked furiously, trying to dodge the branches that were now coming down in a frenzy. The dog's instincts kicked in, guiding it away from the danger, but it was clear that they wouldn't all make it out unscathed.
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