Sunday, 1st October
There was nothing like a light bout of breaking and entering to start the day.
Harry had forgone his sacred weekend morning lie-in in favour of getting up early and being the first to breakfast. Blaise had opened one suspicious eye at him as he'd passed, but Harry's quiet murmur about having a Muggle Studies project to do had sent him right back to sleep again.
Hopefully, he'd get a few hours to himself before his excuse would crumble beneath Tracey and Milli's confusion if the boy asked them about it, and even more hopefully, by then he'd have achieved what he set out to do too.
Harry strode purposefully towards the second-floor corridor, his mind racing. The idea that the Chamber of Secrets could still exist - and that it might house a thousand-year-old basilisk - was exhilarating. He was about to meet the living, breathing King of the Serpents! This basilisk had been alive for over a thousand years! It knew one of the original founders of Hogwarts! And Harry could actually talk to it, really, properly, talk to it, and find out what Salazar Slytherin had been like, and how life was back then, and learn about magic that had been since lost to history and-
And first things first, he had to find the entrance to the Chamber.
He paused outside the entrance to the girls' bathroom, looking both ways to ensure no one was around, then slipped inside. He was immediately hit by a stale, damp smell. The flickering light from overhead bulbs gave the room an eerie glow.
He scanned the space, noting the cracked tiles, broken mirrors, and puddles on the floor. A soft, ghostly wail drifted through the air, sending a shiver down his spine - along with a thrill of excitement.
"Hello?" he called, his voice echoing off the walls, and the wailing abruptly stopped.
A moment later, a strange figure drifted out from one of the stalls, a pale, translucent girl with pigtails and oversized glasses. She looked at Harry with wide, distrustful eyes.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice high and reedy, "What are you doing in my bathroom?!"
"I'm Harry" he said, "Harry Potter. And I'm, uh, I'm sorry for barging in, but I'm looking for something. You're… a ghost?"
The girl sniffled, pushing her glasses up her nose.
"Of course, I'm a ghost!" she replied, clearly offended, "Who else would haunt a bathroom? I'm Myrtle. And you're… Harry Potter, you said? I've heard of you. The famous Boy Who Lived. Breaking into girls' bathrooms now, are you?"
Harry decided to ignore that. "Right. Myrtle. Nice to meet you. I think… I think the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be here. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Myrtle's expression changed immediately, her translucent features hardening. "The Chamber of Secrets. Of course I know about it - I died because of it!"
"You what? How?!"
She floated closer, her face just inches from his, and for a moment, he thought she might start crying again. But instead, she crossed her arms, clearly relishing the opportunity to recount her tragic tale.
"I was here, in this very bathroom" she said dramatically. "I was crying - again - because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. She was so mean! And then… I heard something".
"What kind of something?" Harry asked, leaning forward despite himself.
"A boy's voice. Speaking a strange language. I didn't understand it, but it gave me chills. I looked up… and then I saw them. Two huge, yellow eyes, staring right at me. And then-" She made an exaggerated choking noise and clutched at her throat. "I was dead. Just like that. I didn't even have time to scream".
He swallowed hard. "And those eyes were… where when this happened?"
"Right over there" Myrtle said, pointing to the row of sinks, "Near that one".
It looked like an ordinary sink. Harry examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then he saw it - scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.
"That tap's never worked" Myrtle said brightly as he tried to turn it.
"Yeah" Harry murmured, staring at the tiny engraving, "There's a reason for that".
What had that book in the Black library said? Salazar had hidden the Chamber and protected it with measures only he knew? Hiding its entrance on a random sink in the girl's bathroom on the second floor seemed like a pretty good disguise to him.
Focusing on the tiny snake, Harry spoke. "Open".
Except that the word wasn't what he heard; a strange hissing had escaped him, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.
His heart skipped a beat. This was it. This was the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!
"... Thanks, Myrtle".
She sniffed. "You're welcome, I suppose. But if you die down there, don't expect me to come and save you. I've had quite enough excitement for one afterlife, thank you very much".
Harry straightened up and leaned over the edge, peering into the abyss. It was dark, damp, and definitely uninviting - but he felt a strange pull, a curiosity that outweighed any fear. He lowered himself slowly into the pipe, and then let go.
It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as his one, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons.
And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe levelled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in.
Catching his breath, Harry wandlessly cast a cleaning charm on his robes, and then another one for good measure. After that, he summoned a large ball of light, the glowing orb a comforting sight and a reminder of the very first time he'd ever cast a spell. Merlin, if his eleven-year-old self could see him now…
Sending the light ahead of him, Harry slowly started to walk through the long, black tunnel. He must be miles under the school - miles under the lake, he realised, squinting at the dark, damp walls.
The tunnel ahead was as quiet as the grave, and after a few uncomfortably loud steps, Harry cast a Quietus on himself as well. He wasn't scared of what might be down here - quite the opposite, in fact; Harry couldn't ever remember feeling so alive - but there was no need to announce his presence too early either way.
The stone floor was littered with animal bones and he wondered if they'd died of natural causes or if the basilisk had eaten them. Then again, Harry reasoned, given their size, the basilisk would've devoured their skeletons too.
Up ahead, something blocked his path, and he froze.
Harry could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. Very slowly, his eyes as narrow as he could make them and still see, he edged forward, his left hand outstretched as if bracing himself to be attacked - although what spell he hoped to deter a basilisk with he wasn't sure.
The glowing ball of light slid over what was truly a gigantic snake skin - a vivid, poisonous green in colour, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.
Harry grinned.
Stepping around the snakeskin, he continued down the tunnel and then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.
Harry approached, feeling his entire body thrummed with excitement and anticipation. The locket around his neck burned so fiercely that he had to pull it out from beneath his robes, and the snake's emerald eyes seemed to flicker in the dim light.
"Open".
The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and he found himself standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.
At the far end of the Chamber - for there was no other possibility, this was the Chamber of Secrets - a massive statue loomed. Harry had to crane his neck to look up at the giant face above. It appeared to be of Salazar Slytherin himself, his face stern and regal, but what caught Harry's attention wasn't the statue - it was the immense, coiled figure lying at its base, its emerald scales glinting in the dim light.
The basilisk.
It wasn't moving, and for one heart-wrenching moment, Harry thought it was dead. But as he edged closer, he saw the subtle rise and fall of its body - a slow, rhythmic motion that suggested the creature was merely asleep. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He was standing in front of a living piece of history, something that had been alive when Salazar Slytherin himself walked these halls!
The basilisk stirred.
The air shifted subtly, carrying a strange, earthy scent that Harry instinctively knew belonged to the massive serpent. He froze as its head rose slowly from its coiled body, its scales glinting like polished emeralds in the dim greenish light. Its movements were deliberate, almost languid, but there was no mistaking the power behind them.
Harry belatedly squeezed his eyes shut but he could still sense the exact moment the weight of its attention settled on him.
"SSShield your gaze, pleassse" he hissed, his voice trembling slightly but steady enough, "I don't mean you any harm. You are sssafe".
A soft, low rumble filled the chamber, vibrating in Harry's bones. It wasn't a growl - it sounded almost like curiosity.
"SSSpeaker? You are ssspeaker?" The voice was rich and sibilant, filling the air like the rustle of dry leaves.
"Yesss" he hissed back, still keeping his eyes firmly shut, "I'm a ssspeaker. Not dangerousss. I'm not here to hurt you".
The rumbling stopped, and the air seemed to grow warmer.
"I will ssshield my gaze" the basilisk replied, "Open your eyesss, little ssspeaker. You are sssafe".
Hesitantly, Harry cracked one eye open, then the other. He saw her massive head looming above him, her yellow eyes dulled behind thick, protective membranes. Even with her killing gaze hidden, her sheer presence was overwhelming.
"Thank you" he said, swallowing hard, "I… I didn't know what elssse to do. I wasssn't expecting… well… you".
The basilisk tilted her head slightly, the motion oddly un-serpentine. "You came to me. You mussst know I am here".
"I- I did, but I didn't know you'd ssstill be alive" he, trying to collect his equilibrium, "I thought… I don't know what I thought. But you're real. You're alive. And you're absssolutely gorgeousss".
The basilisk seemed to preen at that, her coils shifting slightly as she adjusted her posture.
"Do you have a name?" Harry asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he could stop himself. The basilisk stilled, her head lowering to be closer to him.
"A name?" she repeated, tasting the word as though it were foreign to her, "No. I have no name. I am alone. No SSSalazar. No ssspeakersss. No need for name".
He felt a pang of sympathy for the ancient creature. He couldn't imagine living for one thousand years with only two or three visitors.
"Then… may I call you sssomething?" he asked tentatively, "I don't think it'sss right for you not to have a name".
"What name, little ssspeaker?" she asked, her tone curious rather than offended.
Harry thought quickly. "You're the King - or rather, the Queen - of SSSerpentsss, aren't you? The mossst majessstic creature I've ever ssseen. I could call you Queen".
"Queen" the basilisk repeated, rolling the word over in her tongue. "What isss queen?"
He blinked. He hadn't expected that question - although, to be fair, what need had a basilisk to know of royalty?
"A queen isss… well, ssshe'sss the ruler of her people. Ressspected. Admired. SSShe'sss powerful, and othersss look to her for guidance. SSShe'sss… important".
The basilisk seemed to consider this for a long moment. Then she inclined her head ever so slightly, a gesture that felt regal in its deliberation.
"I like thisss word" she said,"Queen. That isss me".
Harry grinned despite himself. "Queen it isss, then".
The basilisk shifted her head, her gaze darting lower and lingering on the locket around his neck. Her tongue flickered out once, twice, as if scenting the air around him.
"You have sssomething from SSSalazar" she eventually said, her voice almost reverent, "SSShiny thing. SSSmellsss like him".
Frowning, he glanced down and then picked up the locket. It was still too hot to comfortably touch, but the temperature was more bearable now. This had belonged to-
Oh.
Oh, Harry was an absolute idiot!
This locket had belonged to Salazar Slytherin! Of course, it fucking had! A golden locket with a giant great big bloody 'S' on the front of it in the shape of a snake and Slytherin green accents, of course this had belonged to Slytherin and-
Holy fuck. This locket had belonged to Salazar Slytherin! Harry was holding something that had once been held by Salazar bloody Slytherin! Was that why he liked it so much? Was that why the locket liked him so much? Could it sense that he was a Slytherin?
Wait.
Why the bloody hell did Kreacher have it?! He said he'd belonged to Regulus Black, but why in Merlin's name did Regulus have it? And, more importantly, why had he wanted to destroy it?! The Blacks, baring Harry's godfather, were as proud Slytherins as they came and Salazar wasn't evil but Kreacher had said that the locket was so why-
The basilisk - the Queen - regarded him patiently as his thoughts spiralled.
"Do you know what thisss ssshiny thing doesss?" he asked her hesitantly.
The serpent's tongue flickered out once more and the sheer size of it felt almost surreal.
"Old magic. SSSalazar magic" she said after a moment, "But… different. Changed. SSShiny thing is… wrong now".
Harry's stomach churned uneasily. That didn't sound good - but he could worry about that later. The locket hadn't killed him yet, after all. Taking a deep breath, he carefully lowered himself to the ground, sitting there cross-legged as he looked up at the, quite frankly, massive snake.
The Queen tilted her head slightly, her massive emerald coils shifting ever so slightly as she adjusted her posture to observe him more closely. Her piercing golden gaze, even dulled by the protective membranes, seemed to probe into Harry's very soul.
"You ssstay. Why?" she said, her voice rich and calm, "Why are you here, little ssspeaker?"
Harry hesitated, the enormity of the moment settling over him. He'd come down here driven by curiosity, but now, face-to-face with the Queen of Serpents, he realized he had no clear plan. Still, he knew he couldn't squander this opportunity.
"I… I wanted to know more" he began carefully, "About you, about SSSalazar About magic from a time long forgotten. There'sss ssso much we've losst over the years. I thought… perhapsss you could teach me"
The basilisk let out a low rumble, a sound that resonated through the chamber like distant thunder.
"Teach you… Little ssspeaker is young… Much ssstill to know" she said, her tone contemplative, "I wasss young. Before long sssleep. SSSalazar teach me".
Harry leaned forward slightly, his excitement overcoming his nerves. "Tell me about him. About SSSalazar SSSlytherin. What wasss he like? Why did he build thisss place? The legendsss don't paint him in the… kindessst of lights".
The Queen's head lowered, her massive body coiling up as though preparing to recount a long ancient tale. "SSSalazar wasss many thingssss. He wasss clever. A sssurvivor. Created my den ssso I am sssafe. Can sssleep. He teach me… den isss sssafe for ssspeakersss and not-ssspeakersss. Young, like you. SSSafe for magic. SSSafe only for magic".
Safe only for magic? For those with magic? Did that mean-
"What about humansss without magic? Not-magicsss?"
The Queen's tongue flicked out, her expression unreadable. "In hisss time… yesss… Not-magicsss not sssafe. SSSalazar… ssscared. Not-magic hunt usss. Den sssafe".
It confirmed Harry's suspicions - namely, that Salazar hadn't wanted to exclude muggle-borns out of hatred, but out of fear. The Chamber had been built as a stronghold, a last-ditch attempt to secure the future of wizarding kind should the worst happen.
"And you… agreed with SSSalazar?" he asked cautiously, "About not-magic".
"I do not know not-magicsss" she said simply, "I know SSSalazar".
There was a pause as Harry absorbed her words. "And now? What will you do now that he'sss gone?"
The basilisk's coils shifted, her gaze steady on him. "I wait here. Wait for ssspeaker to come. You are here. I ssserve you".
"SSServe me?" he repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and awe, his heart pounding loudly beneath the warmth of the locket.
"You are a ssspeaker" she said, her tone matter-of-fact, "You have SSSalazar ssshiny thing. You ssstand here not ssscared. I ssserve you".
An alliance with the Queen of Serpents. The idea was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.
"I… I don't know what to sssay" he admitted, "I didn't think thisss would happen".
She inclined her head slightly. "Then think, little ssspeaker. Think. Move. Hunt… I wait".
Harry took a deep breath, his mind racing. The possibilities were endless, but he needed to tread carefully. After all, this wasn't just a magical creature - this was history itself, alive and breathing before him, and one with the ability to kill with a single look too.
It was going to be a long, brilliant day.
Monday, 2nd October
Harry was on a high for the rest of the weekend, and not even the mountain load of homework that he should've done instead of chasing basilisks all day could drag him down.
He'd even finally braved the disaster that was Sirius Black finding out Draco Malfoy had cut his godson's hair and, admittedly, it could've gone a lot worse. Thank Merlin for Remus acting as a stabiliser in that man's life because, without him, Harry genuinely feared that his godfather would've gone insane years ago.
He'd chickened out of telling him about Lady Malfoy's letters though.
Baby steps.
His good mood had been noticed by the others at dinner that evening too, and Blaise had given him a very dirty look indeed when explaining that he'd talked to Tracey about their so-called Muggle Studies project and she hadn't known the first thing about it.
Harry would love to have told them about the basilisk, he really would, but that would mean explaining a whole bunch of other things like the fact he was a Parselmouth and Ginny had been responsible for opening the Chamber and Lord Voldemort had once been a Slytherin called Tom Riddle and he honestly just didn't want to deal with the backlash of it all - not yet, at least.
So instead he kept his mouth shut and smiled pleasantly while Blaise glared at him, Theo gave him a curious look, and Malfoy started teasing him about secret paramours and love trysts.
He practically skipped down the stairs from their dormitory Monday morning, fully intending on visiting the Queen of Serpents after dinner that evening, when he noticed Theo and Greengrass standing next to each other in front of the Slytherin notice board, their postures noticeably… tense.
Frowning, Harry made his way over, immediately catching sight of the new sign that must've been put up overnight, printed in large black letters with a Ministry seal stamped at the bottom.
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded. An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four.
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
HIGH INQUISITOR
"... Is that what I think it is?"
"Yep" Theo said, "Looks like Blaise was right after all. Whatever your friends in Gryffindor were up to in The Hog's Head got back to her somehow".
Harry grimaced. He knew he should've told Hermione that meeting there was a bad idea.
"Someone must've told on them" Greengrass said, evidently having been filled in on what Theo had seen yesterday.
The boy in question frowned. "It's the most likely solution, and yet… I'd have thought Granger would've included a failsafe for that".
"She's a Gryffindor" Daphne said, wrinkling her nose, "They aren't exactly known for thinking things through".
"This one is".
She gave him a surprised, almost bewildered look and Harry had to smile.
"Hermione's got a cunning side to her too, you know" he said, "She just doesn't let it show all that often".
"I'll believe that when I see it" she replied, "Now come on or we'll be late for breakfast".
It was immediately apparent on entering the Great Hall that Umbridge's sign had not only appeared in the Slytherin common room. There was a peculiar intensity about the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurried up and down their tables conferring on what they had read. The Gryffindor table in particular was a flurry of movement, and Harry almost winced at just how obvious they were being with almost everyone conglomerating around Hermione, Ron, and Neville.
He managed to catch her eye as he made his way to the Slytherin table, and she did wince, no doubt realising just how bad the sudden crowd would look to Umbridge. There were multiple faces from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff flitting around her, and a few seats down, Harry caught sight of Ginny in what appeared to be a rather heated conversation with Michael Corner, who was gesturing wildly. Maybe they were getting back together again - or maybe Ginny was cursing him out for coming over to her.
As Harry sat down, Corner turned his furious gaze to him, and his gestures increased tenfold. Harry frowned, confused not by the glare he was getting - that was old news now - but by the sudden intensity of it. Ginny snapped back something, clearly just as angry, and then grabbed his arm to haul him back to the Ravenclaw table.
"I wonder what all that's about" Blaise remarked, following his gaze.
"No idea" Harry replied, reaching for the pot of tea, "But I'm sure we'll find out eventually".
After quite the successful wand movements class with Professor McGonagall - he'd done so well she'd even given him a biscuit as he was leaving - Harry headed to their History of Magic class.
Binns had not improved during the month or so he'd been there, and Harry had taken to self-studying the subject, although he had already learned most of their textbook off by heart. Sometimes he sat next to Ron and they played tic-tac-toe on the margins of their parchment instead.
Today was just as monotonous as ever - something about the giant wars, by all accounts, but that was all Harry could make sense of with the ghost. Hermione seemed to be the only student in their year capable of following along with whatever it was Binns was saying. Not even Theo could stay focused during every lesson, and that really was saying something.
It therefore came as quite a surprise when Blaise nudged his arm and gave a subtle nod in the girl's direction. Hermione was staring at him with a rather annoyed look on her face, as though she'd been trying to get his attention for ages. Once she saw that she had it, she made a small gesture towards the window.
Harry turned around. Hedwig was perched on the narrow window ledge, gazing through the thick glass at him, a letter tied to her leg - but they were just after breakfast; why on earth hadn't she delivered the letter to him then?
Glancing over at Professor Binns, whose pale gaze was firmly focused on the notes in front of him, entirely unaware of what his students were doing, he decided fuck it.
Silently pushing back his chair, he stood up and made his way to the window, sliding back the latch and lifting it open very slowly. He had expected Hedwig to hold out her leg so that he could remove the letter and then fly off to the Owlery, but the moment the window was open wide enough she hopped inside, hooting dolefully.
Harry closed the window with a quick glance at Professor Binns and retook his seat, carefully lowering Hedwig to his lap and removing the letter tied to her leg. It was only then that he realized that the owl's feathers were oddly ruffled; some were bent the wrong way, and she was holding one of her wings at an odd angle.
Something, or someone, had attacked her.
Hedwig was quivering; when Harry made to touch the wing she gave a little jump, all her feathers on end as though she was inflating herself, and gazed at him reproachfully. He looked up at Binns. The ghost was still as oblivious as ever. He probably wouldn't even notice if Harry just… slipped out for a while.
"I'll see you in Potions" he muttered to Blaise, grabbing his bag and carefully perching Hedwig safely on his shoulder.
"In Potions?" the boy whispered back with a frown, "Why? Where are you going now?"
Harry simply shook his head. "Later".
Someone had attacked his owl!
Harry had to fight back against the tidal wave of anger that threatened to overcome him, had to wrestle with the sudden overwhelming urge to track down whoever had done this and see how they liked their arm being broken. Instead, he quietly slipped out of the classroom, ignoring everyone's curious gaze and giving Ron a truly vicious look when the boy opened his mouth to speak and made his way through the castle.
Hedwig hooted feebly as she swayed on his shoulder, and he reached up to stroke her feathers in what he hoped was a soothing manner.
It was a blustery, overcast day outside but he didn't let that deter him as he headed straight for Hagrid's hut. He'd yet to see the inside of the wooden shack, but there was no one else he trusted to help him right now, so he hoped that Hedwig would be alright staying with the man for a few days.
He knocked on the heavy wooden door, hearing loud snuffling snores from within - some guard dog Fang was. He barely had time to lower his hand before the door swung open.
"Harry! What're yeh doin' out here? Shouldn't yeh be in class?" Hagrid's voice rumbled, though his tone softened as his eyes landed on Hedwig perched on Harry's shoulder, "Eh? An' what's this? Somethin' happened ter yer owl?"
Harry nodded grimly. "She's hurt, Hagrid. Someone attacked her. I didn't know where else to take her".
Hagrid stepped aside immediately, gesturing for Harry to come in. "Come on, quick now, quick. We'll patch her right up, don't yeh worry".
Inside the hut, the air was warm, and the scent of freshly baked rock cakes mingled with the earthy aroma of the firewood burning in the hearth. Harry carefully settled Hedwig onto the edge of Hagrid's massive wooden table. The owl hooted softly, her feathers ruffling as if in protest. Hagrid leaned in, his enormous hands surprisingly gentle as he inspected Hedwig's wing.
"Ah, poor girl" he murmured, his fingers brushing lightly over the bent feathers and the awkwardly held wing, "She's got a sprain, that's fer sure. Might be a bit o' bruisin', too, but I don't think it's broken".
"But you can heal her, right?"
Hagrid nodded firmly. "Course I can. I'll set her up proper, give her a bit o' rest here. She'll be right as rain in a few days. I'll keep her fed an' warm, don' yeh worry".
Harry felt a rush of relief. "Thanks, Hagrid. I just… I don't know who would do this to her! I mean, what could they hope to gain by hurting her like this?!"
"Well, it wasn't the thestrals" the half-giant started slowly, "I trained 'em myself. They know better than ter attack our owls like this".
"It wasn't a creature" he replied, shaking his head, "She's never been attacked by one before and, as you said, all the animals around here are well used to owls flying in and out. This was a human. A person".
Hagrid froze for a fraction of a second before busying himself with gathering bandages and a small tin of salve from a nearby shelf.
"Why would anyone do somethin' like that ter yer owl?" he asked, his tone gruff but unconvincing.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the man, noticing his suddenly shifty manner. "That's what I want to know. The only reason someone would attack her would be… to get at my letter".
Hagrid's shoulders tensed, and he fumbled slightly with the tin in his hands. "Now, Harry, yeh shouldn't go jumpin' ter conclusions-"
"Is Umbridge intercepting our post?" he demanded, his voice rising as it all suddenly clicked into place, "She is, isn't she? She's monitoring the owls!"
"Harry" he began cautiously, avoiding his gaze, "I ain't supposed ter say-"
"So it's true! She's spying on us? How can Dumbledore let her get away with this?!"
Hagrid sighed heavily, his massive shoulders slumping as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "Dumbledore don't let her get away with nothin', Harry. She's got the Ministry behind her, an' they've got their claws in deep. There ain't much he can do without causin' a right mess o' things".
Harry's mind raced, anger boiling in his chest. "But Hedwig's hurt because of her! She's attacking our owls just to try and read our letters. We can't let her-"
Hagrid held up a massive hand, his expression earnest. "Harry, listen ter me. I'll take care o' Hedwig, alright? She'll be safe here. But you've got ter be careful. Don't go lettin' her bait yeh into somethin' reckless. That's what she's after".
He clenched his jaw, his fury simmering but tempered by Hagrid's words. He knew better than to let his anger cloud all reason, after all. He had to be smart about this, wait until the opportune moment to strike, and then take that bitch down.
"Fine" he said, albeit reluctantly, "But I'm not going to let her win".
"Good lad" Hagrid said with a small, weary smile. He reached out, patting Harry's shoulder with a hand that could probably crush boulders. "Now, go on back ter class. I'll send Hedwig up ter yeh as soon as she's well enough".
Harry looked down at the owl, stroking her soft feathers gently and promising her fierce retribution. "Get better soon, girl".
As he walked back up to the castle, his thoughts churned. Targeting him was one thing, but now Umbridge was targeting his friends too. Injuring a helpless creature who had no chance of defending itself was crossing the line, but if that was how Umbridge wanted to play this, then he had no problem whatsoever in stooping down to her level.
Harry only barely made it back to Hogwarts on time and even had to run the last hundred meters or so, careening around the corner and skidding to a breathless stop just as Snape was about to shut the classroom door.
The potions master raised a single, questioning, and terribly judgemental eyebrow at him, but Harry could only shake his head, still trying desperately to catch his breath.
Snape stepped aside to let him pass with a heavy, long-suffering sigh and Harry barely had enough time to think wow, he's somehow even snarkier than usual before he saw just what, in fact, was making him snarkier than usual.
In the corner of the dungeon, with a clipboard on her knee, sat Professor Umbridge.
Harry quickly made his way to the bench he shared with Theo, keeping his head down and ignoring the boy's quiet questions. The last thing he needed was for both Umbridge and Snape to give him a detention for talking out of turn.
"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today. You will find your mixtures as you left them" Severus began, "If correctly made they should have matured well. Instructions are on the board. Carry on".
Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner and the lesson proceeded uneventfully. Somehow, the class was even better behaved with her beady little eyes watching them - something that Harry hadn't thought possible given how much the Gryffindors feared and the Slytherins respected Professor Snape.
Near the end of their first period, the woman finally got to her feet and strode between the two lines of desks toward Snape, who was currently inspecting Dean Thomas's cauldron.
"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level" she said briskly to Snape's back, "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus. The Minister might feel it's too - ah - challenging".
Snape straightened, his black eyes narrowing.
"The Minister" he repeated silkily, "must have an extraordinary insight into potion-making if he feels qualified to dictate what is or is not appropriate for this level".
"Oh, I wouldn't expect you to understand, Professor Snape" she said with a patronizing smile, "It's about ensuring that students are prepared for their futures in a way that aligns with the Ministry's goals".
"Yeah" Harry said, unable to resist, "The Minister wouldn't want us to become too competent, would he? Just imagine the chaos".
The room fell silent. Theo stamped harshly on his foot. Umbridge stiffened, her smile faltering as she slowly turned around, her beady eyes zeroing in on Harry - who gave her a wide, blinding grin.
"Mr Potter" Umbridge began, her sugary tone setting his teeth on edge, "Perhaps you'd like to share with the class your grievances with the Minister?"
"No thank you, ma'am" he replied, perfectly polite, "You being here is doing a wonderful job of that already".
Her smile stiffened, her gaze narrowing as she tried to decipher her words - apparently, she was intelligent enough to realise she'd just been insulted, but not intelligent enough to work out how. Behind her, Harry saw the corner of Snape's mouth twitch.
"Yes" Umbridge eventually said, "Quite. Well. As I was saying… How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?"
"Fourteen years" Severus replied, his bored tone really rather impressive even as his expression remained unfathomable.
"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?"
"Yes".
That was news to Harry - but once he taught about it, it made perfectly good sense. Snape would've made a brilliant DADA professor, but given the curse that dear old Tom left on the position, Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted to risk losing his favourite spy so soon by giving it to him.
"But you were unsuccessful?"
The man's lip curled. "Obviously".
Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"
"Yes".
"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?"
"I suggest you ask him". Snape was starting to look rather irritated. Harry decided to help him out.
"Usually, the Headmaster gets the option of rejecting professors, you see" he called, "Personally, I think it takes a lot of nerve to criticize someone for being ambitious while sitting in a job you weren't exactly invited to take".
Behind him, Blaise snorted and then quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. Umbridge's blotchy complexion deepened to an alarming shade of crimson as the room filled with the sound of poorly suppressed snickers. She turned to glare at Harry, her quill trembling in her hand.
"Such insubordination will not stand!" she hissed, her saccharine tone cracking slightly, "It seems you're developing quite the reputation, Mr Potter, for speaking out of turn!"
"Oh, it's not just him, ma'am" Ron suddenly said, "Some of us are just a lot quieter with our disdain".
A few Gryffindors laughed, while the Slytherins glanced over at him with surprise. Ron looked terribly pleased with himself and gave a small, smug shrug, as if to say, When the opportunity's this good, why waste it?
"Oh, and we're all very impressed with your reviews, ma'am" Hermione chimed in, bolstered by her friends' remarks and looking as though she hardly believed that she was speaking up, "You must have written an entire dissertation on each professor by now. Is that really how the Ministry evaluates teaching expertise these days? Doesn't seem very efficient".
The jab earned her a glare from Umbridge and a poorly stifled laugh from Blaise, who added not-so-quietly, "Maybe she's just practising for her memoir - 'How to Ruin a School in Ten Easy Steps'".
"Or a pamphlet" Theo said quietly, "Once the dissertation has been edited down to pertinent information, of course".
The room dissolved into laughter. Even Snape, who had initially turned to silence the students, paused as if reconsidering. His lips pressed tightly together but twitched in a way that suggested he wasn't entirely displeased.
"Enough!" Umbridge shrieked, slamming her clipboard onto the nearest desk, "This is outrageous! I am here on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, and I will not be spoken to in such a- such a- a-"
"-an honest manner?" Seamus Finnigan offered innocently, earning another round of giggles.
Umbridge whirled on Snape, her face now so red that it clashed terribly with her garish pink cardigan. "Professor Snape, I demand that you discipline these students immediately!"
He raised an eyebrow, his expression still impressively calm. "Discipline them? For what, madam? I was under the impression that fostering critical thinking was an essential part of education".
Harry had to bite down on his tongue to keep from laughing. The look on Umbridge's face was priceless - like she'd swallowed an entire barrel of sour lemons.
"Critical thinking?!" she sputtered, "That's- That's insubordination! That's-"
"-an elective skill, apparently" Harry cut in slyly, "Given that it doesn't seem to be one you've mastered".
That was the final straw. Umbridge let out an incoherent shriek, swept up her clipboard, and stormed out of the dungeon, her stubby legs carrying her up the steps as fast as they could. The door slammed shut behind her, and for a moment, the class was silent.
And then, chaos.
The students erupted into laughter and applause, high-fiving each other across the benches. Harry and Theo exchanged smirks, while Neville gave him a thumbs-up. After a moment, Snape raised a hand, and the laughter died instantly. The room fell into a tense quiet as his dark eyes swept over the students.
"While I must commend your creativity," he said, his voice low and measured, "I will remind you that this is a classroom, not a comedy club. Return to your potions immediately".
There was a flurry of movement as everyone hastily bent over their cauldrons, though many wore smug smiles. Harry, still feeling the adrenaline rush of victory, turned to Snape as he strode past.
"Sorry if this gets you a bad review, sir".
Severus regarded him for a long moment, then sighed softly. "If I survive teaching you for the rest of the year, Potter, then a bad review will hardly be the worst of it".