September 1st arrived quickly, marking the beginning of Harry's third year. As he boarded the Hogwarts Express, he soon found his group of friends and settled into a compartment. But this year, it wasn't just the usual four of them—himself, Theo, Hermione, and Neville. The compartment was packed, with the rest of the group squeezed together: Pansy, Blaise, Draco, and even Ron had joined them.
Pansy had made herself comfortable on Hermione's lap, her head leaning back against the seat. Hermione's cheeks were a bright shade of red, though she seemed to be managing a shy smile despite her embarrassment. Across from them, Harry sat on Theo's lap, his own face flushed as he tried not to think too much about how close they were. Draco had refused to sit on the floor "like some commoner," as he'd put it, so Neville took a spot on the floor by his feet. Blaise sat beside Draco, while Ron had somehow ended up seated between Blaise's legs, leaning back casually, though his face betrayed his curiosity.
They all wanted to hear about the trial—every detail Harry could share. Despite the letters they'd sent over the summer, he hadn't had much of a chance to explain everything, and their eyes were wide with anticipation.
"So," Pansy prompted, leaning forward with a smirk. "You're just going to leave us in suspense, Potter? Spill it."
Harry took a deep breath, glancing around at the expectant faces. It was hard to know where to start, but he knew they were all waiting, each of them concerned in their own way. Theo gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and Harry felt a little more at ease.
"Well," he began, trying to gather his thoughts. "The whole trial was... intense. Dumbledore kept acting like he was doing everything for 'the greater good,' but Madam Bones didn't let up on him. She kept pressing him about every decision he'd made, especially why he had taken control over my guardianship without telling anyone."
The group listened intently, hanging on his every word. Hermione looked thoughtful, and Neville's eyes were wide with amazement. Draco crossed his arms, smirking slightly, as if savoring every bit of dirt on Dumbledore's reputation.
"And black ?" Ron asked, his tone filled with genuine curiosity. "What happened with him?"
Harry glanced at Theo, who nodded encouragingly. "They finally acknowledged that he was imprisoned without a trial. But even then, they're only giving him a fine for damages. They won't even talk about letting him have his old life back."
The compartment was quiet for a moment as everyone absorbed the weight of what Harry was saying. Hermione's eyes were filled with sympathy, and even Draco looked serious.
"Those Ministry idiots," Blaise muttered under his breath. "They'll cover their mistakes to the end, no matter the cost."
Pansy rolled her eyes in agreement. "Honestly, Potter, the things you've had to deal with. It's amazing you're not hexing everyone in sight."
Harry couldn't help but laugh a little at that. "It's tempting sometimes," he admitted, feeling the tension ease as his friends chuckled. They spent the rest of the journey sharing stories, laughter filling the small space, and for the first time in a while, Harry felt like he could breathe.
Hermione looked at Harry with concern, leaning forward a bit. "Harry, how are you going to handle this? Dumbledore's still the headmaster, and after everything that happened at the trial... he's bound to put pressure on you. You challenged him legally, after all."
Harry sighed, settling more comfortably on Theo's lap, who rested his chin on Harry's shoulder supportively. "Honestly? I don't know," he admitted. "My lawyer told me to stay as far away from Dumbledore as possible, but... it's not like I can completely avoid him at Hogwarts."
He paused, his gaze falling to the floor as he continued, "And it's not just him. I'm supposed to keep my distance from Snape and even McGonagall now. Turns out, they were both considered legal guardians for me at one point—and they both left me to those Muggles."
There was a collective murmur of shock and outrage in the compartment.
"That's just… terrible," Hermione whispered, her brows knitting together. "I can't believe Professor McGonagall would let that happen."
"Snape, I can understand," Draco muttered, crossing his arms with a bitter look. "But McGonagall? That's just disappointing."
Pansy scoffed, leaning back against Hermione. "The audacity of them. And now they'll probably act like you owe them something, Harry."
Blaise gave a derisive chuckle. "They're supposed to be protecting you, and instead, they just followed Dumbledore's orders without question. Pathetic."
Ron looked especially furious, his face red with anger. "So they all just left you with those horrid Muggles because Dumbledore said so?"
Harry shrugged, trying to brush it off, though his expression showed how much it still hurt. "Guess they didn't think it was worth it to question him. But honestly, I can't worry about them anymore. I've got all of you, and that's what matters."
Theo squeezed his shoulder gently, and Harry could feel the warmth and support of his friends around him. It was a comforting reminder that, no matter what, he wasn't alone.
Harry glanced around at his friends, taking in their worried faces. "Honestly," he said, his voice low, "I don't think this is the end of it. This is only the beginning. I'm just starting my third year, and I still have years left at Hogwarts. Dumbledore won't forget what happened at the trial, and I'm guessing he won't be the only one watching us closely."
He paused, looking at each of them in turn. "You should all be careful, too," he warned, voice serious. "It's not just him. Some of the professors might start giving us trouble, especially if they think we're challenging things they believe in. Just… watch your backs, alright?"
Theo gave Harry's hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're right, Harry. But don't worry. We're in this together. If any of them try anything, we'll handle it."
Hermione nodded, her eyes filled with resolve. "If Dumbledore or any of the professors think they can intimidate us, they're in for a surprise. They can't just get away with everything they've done."
Draco smirked, a determined glint in his eyes. "Let them try. I'd love to see them explain to my father why they're messing with us over something that was their own fault."
Ron grinned, his anger replaced by a bit of excitement. "Yeah, if they're going to mess with one of us, they'll have to deal with all of us."
There was a wave of agreement from everyone in the compartment, and Harry felt a warmth settle over him. No matter what the future held, he knew he had his friends by his side—and that made all the difference.
The conversation eventually shifted to lighter topics as everyone shared the excitement—and a bit of apprehension—about the new school year and the classes they had chosen.
"So," Hermione began, looking around the compartment with a keen smile, "what electives did everyone end up picking?"
"I took Ancient Runes and Arithmancy," she said proudly, "and Harry chose the same ones, didn't you?" She turned to him with a grin.
Harry nodded, chuckling. "Yeah, thought I'd stick with you, Hermione. Figured you'd be the best study partner for the tough ones," he admitted, trying to ignore Ron's teasing smirk.
Ron shook his head with a laugh. "Of course you two would pick the hardest ones. I went with Care of Magical Creatures and Divination—might be nice to have some classes that are less… theory-heavy."
Pansy rolled her eyes playfully. "I picked Muggle Studies. Always been curious about it, and, well… it might come in handy someday."
Blaise added, "I went with Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. Couldn't resist learning more about magical creatures, and Runes just seemed fascinating."
Draco, with his usual confidence, crossed his arms. "I took Arithmancy and Muggle Studies. Thought it'd be interesting to see what Muggles are actually up to, even if it sounds a bit strange."
Neville, looking a bit more relaxed, added, "I just focused on Herbology-focused electives for now. Figured I'd stick with what I know best."
As they shared their plans and hopes for the new year, they couldn't help but laugh at each other's choices and reasoning, with occasional teasing and encouragement. The conversation flowed smoothly from their classes to what they'd been up to during the summer—stories about family, mishaps in Diagon Alley, and some unforgettable moments.
For a little while, the worries about Dumbledore and the trials faded into the background. The compartment was filled with laughter and easy chatter, and Harry found himself looking forward to a school year filled with new adventures and the comfort of friends by his side.
______________________
The first week flew by, and soon enough, it was time for Harry's first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. But as he walked into the classroom and saw the professor, his heart sank—there, standing at the front, was none other than Remus Lupin. Harry's mind flashed back to the last time they'd spoken, when he'd firmly told Lupin he didn't want him in his life. He had wanted nothing to do with the man who'd disappeared and left him behind.
Now, seeing Lupin here, a bitter thought struck him: Did Dumbledore arrange this? It seemed like something he'd do—forcing people back into Harry's life, whether he wanted it or not.
The lesson began, with Ravenclaws and Slytherins sharing the class, and Harry focused intently on his parchment, his quill moving quickly as he jotted down notes. He refused to look up at Lupin, barely acknowledging his presence, as if he could will himself to ignore him entirely.
Sitting beside him, Theo noticed Harry's stiff posture, his avoidance of the front of the room, and the way he pressed a bit too hard on his quill. Theo might not have known all the details, but he sensed Harry's discomfort.
Reaching over, Theo gave Harry's hand a comforting squeeze, grounding him with silent support. Harry felt a surge of gratitude—Theo's steady, quiet presence was exactly what he needed to get through the lesson without falling into old, unresolved feelings.
As the class ended, Harry quickly reached for Hermione and Theo's hands, ready to bolt out of the room with them by his side. But just as they stepped toward the door, Lupin called out to him.
"Harry, could I have a word with you?"
Harry stopped, turning to face him with a cold glare. He took a steadying breath, feeling Theo's reassuring grip tighten slightly.
"I'm a minor," Harry said, his voice steady but filled with barely-concealed anger. "And I don't want to be alone with any professor—especially one who abandoned me." His words hung heavily in the air, and he saw Lupin's face falter, but he didn't linger to see his reaction.
Without another word, Harry turned and left, leading Hermione and Theo out of the classroom and away from any reminder of the man he had once thought he could trust.
It was the last class of the day and of the week, so Harry kept walking away from the classroom, still holding onto Hermione and Theo's hands. Neither of them spoke, respecting his need for quiet as he processed his emotions. They just walked beside him, their presence a steadying comfort as he focused on calming down, putting distance between himself and the unsettling encounter with Lupin.
As they reached a quieter corridor, Harry finally let out a deep breath. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, though a hint of frustration still lingered in his gaze. Theo gave his hand a gentle squeeze, while Hermione offered him a soft, understanding smile.
"Thanks for not asking anything," Harry murmured, appreciating their silent support.
"We're here whenever you want to talk," Hermione said quietly, and Theo nodded, keeping his gaze steady on Harry. They walked on together, a quiet but unbreakable trio.
As they reached the common corner room of Ravenclaw, the trio took a seat on one of the couches near the fire. The usual chatter of students filled the room, but none paid much attention to them, especially not with Theo, a Slytherin, sitting in the heart of Ravenclaw territory.
The flickering fire cast a warm glow on their faces as they settled in. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Hermione turned to Harry with a small, tentative smile.
"Hey, Harry," she began, her voice soft. "I hope you don't mind, but I've got plans with Pansy tonight. She wants to introduce me to a few girls, and I was wondering if you'd be okay with me leaving you for a bit?"
Harry, who had been absently staring into the flames, looked up at her. He could tell she felt a little guilty, but he smiled in reassurance.
"No problem, Hermione," he said with a small chuckle. "You should go and enjoy your girls' night out. You deserve it."
He nudged Theo slightly, as if to encourage him as well. "Go on, enjoy your time. I'll be fine."
Hermione smiled back, clearly relieved. "Thanks, Harry. I'll catch up with you later."
As Hermione stood up and walked toward the door, Theo looked at Harry, giving him a slight nod. Harry watched them go, grateful for his friends' understanding, before sinking back into the couch with a deep breath, his gaze drifting once again to the flames.
Harry, still a bit tense, settled more comfortably on the couch. He turned to Theodore, and without really thinking about it, lay down and placed his head on his lap—a natural instinct after the exhausting day. The flames in the fireplace flickered in front of them, casting soft shadows on the walls of the common room.
Theodore, initially surprised by the gesture, quickly relaxed. He gently ran a hand through Harry's rebellious hair, brushing it away from his face. He knew Harry wasn't one to openly seek sympathy, but Harry often sought comfort in subtle ways. Théo caressed the dark strands of Harry's hair with a tenderness that felt almost protective, enjoying the quiet of the moment.
Harry slowly closed his eyes, feeling strangely calm from the simple gesture. He didn't have to speak or explain his thoughts or feelings; he just existed there, in silence, with Theodore.
A small smile formed on his lips, and he let out a soft breath, as if releasing all the tension he had been holding.
"Thanks, Théo," he murmured. "It feels good."
Théo looked at Harry for a moment, his fingers still gently combing through Harry's messy hair. He could feel the tension, the frustration radiating off him, but also the vulnerability that Harry didn't always let show. Théo's touch was calm, a way to let Harry know he was there, even when words seemed too difficult.
"Why are you so angry with him?" Théo asked softly, his voice careful, trying to understand the depth of Harry's feelings. "Lupin, I mean. What's he done to make you feel this way?"
Harry sighed deeply, his breath shaky as he shifted slightly, settling his head more comfortably in Théo's lap. The closeness, the warmth, gave him a sense of relief, but it didn't stop the storm inside him.
"They told us... Snape and McGonagall were supposed to be my guardians," Harry muttered, his voice thick with frustration. "Maybe they didn't know, but Lupin... he was a friend of my parents. He should have at least tried to be there for me. He could've done something. Anything."
Harry's words came out sharper than he meant, and he could feel a knot tightening in his chest. He had hoped for more from Lupin, someone who had known his parents, someone who could've at least cared. But the man had done nothing. He had barely acknowledged Harry, even when Sirius had arranged a birthday celebration for him.
"And when he came to my birthday, his excuse was... the grief. The grief, Théo." Harry's voice cracked slightly, a bitterness creeping into his tone. "It just felt like... I was nothing to him. Like I wasn't even worth the effort."
Théo's fingers paused in Harry's hair for a moment, but he didn't speak immediately. Instead, he simply leaned down and kissed the top of Harry's head, his touch soft and tender. He knew there was nothing to say to make it better right away. But Harry needed to know someone was there, that he wasn't alone.
"You're not nothing to him, Harry," Théo whispered, his voice a little more serious now. "I know it doesn't help right now, but sometimes people... they can get lost in their own pain. But that doesn't mean you don't matter. It doesn't mean you're not worth the world."
Harry felt the weight of Théo's words, but it was the way Théo spoke them that made him feel a little lighter, a little less alone. The gentleness in his touch, the reassurance in his voice—Harry didn't know why it felt so comforting. He hadn't expected it to be like this. The feeling of warmth spreading in his chest confused him, but it was undeniable. The way Théo cared, the way he was always there, made Harry feel... different.
Harry let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the unexpected emotions rushing through him. He felt his heartbeat quicken slightly, his thoughts tangled and unsure. There was something about Théo—something Harry wasn't ready to name, or understand just yet. But in that moment, it was the last thing on his mind. He just needed this, needed to let it all go, even for a while.
"Thanks, Théo," Harry murmured quietly, still lying on his lap, not knowing how else to express the gratitude, the warmth, that he suddenly felt.
Théo smiled softly, continuing to run his fingers through Harry's hair, not saying a word more. Sometimes, there didn't need to be more said. He could just be there.
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As the month went by, Harry found himself spending more time with his group of friends. It wasn't just the core group of him, Hermione, Théo, Neville , draco,Ron pansy and blaise ; more people had begun to join them for their study sessions. One of them was Astoria Greengrass, a friend of Pansy's, who had become particularly close to Hermione.
the bonds within Harry's group grew stronger. Shared study sessions turned into hours of laughter and whispered secrets, and for the first time in a long time, Harry felt like he had a real, steady support system. What caught him most off-guard, however, was how much closer he and Theo had become.
Theo's teasing had taken on a new edge—gentle but constant, his comments always accompanied by a smirk or a playful nudge. At first, Harry had brushed it off as friendly banter, but it became impossible to ignore the way Theo seemed to gravitate toward him. They were increasingly tactile, their casual touches lingering just a little longer than normal. A hand brushing against Harry's when passing him a quill, an arm thrown over his shoulder during study breaks, or Theo leaning in just slightly too close when whispering a joke in the library.
Harry couldn't quite name the warmth that bubbled in his chest whenever Theo did these things, but it was undeniably there.
The month was a blur of group activities—intense debates in the library, study sessions sprawled out across the common room, and sneaking snacks into the corners of the castle where they wouldn't be caught.
Draco had become remarkably less guarded, his cold demeanor often replaced by a genuine laugh or a soft smile, particularly when talking to Astoria. Hermione and Pansy were practically inseparable, their discussions ranging from ancient spellwork to Muggle technology, and Harry couldn't miss the way Pansy's hand often rested on Hermione's arm as they talked.
Meanwhile, Neville had grown more confident, his conversations with Theo ranging from herbology experiments to future ambitions. Even Ron, who had once been hesitant about integrating into this unusual mix of Slytherins, Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws, seemed more at ease. Blaise teased him endlessly, often reducing him to a blushing mess, much to Harry's amusement.
Astoria was an intriguing mix of cold and warm. Her outwardly frosty demeanor hid a strangely kind nature, though it was often difficult to tell if it was genuine or simply a façade.
She was a pure-blood, and carried herself with a grace that seemed innate.
Astoria was tall with long, dark brown hair that cascaded in soft waves down her back. Her deep brown eyes, framed by long lashes, were often contemplative, giving her a look of quiet intensity. Her complexion was fair, and her sharp, aristocratic features—high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a subtle yet confident smile—gave her an air of cool detachment. Despite her seemingly distant presence, there was an undeniable grace to her every movement, as if she were always just slightly above the chaos around her.
Despite her apparent indifference to most things, she was undeniably intelligent—especially when it came to her future. Astoria was determined to make something of herself in astronomy, a field she had been passionate about for as long as she could remember. She would often get lost in the night sky, her eyes tracing constellations and planets, as if they held the answers to everything she needed to know.
Unlike many other Slytherins, Astoria didn't carry herself with the same cold superiority; in fact, she seemed completely uninterested in the old blood purity standards that defined her family's legacy. Both she and her older sister, Daphne, had always rejected the pure-blood mania that their parents held so dear. It was almost as if the Greengrass sisters were determined to carve their own path, regardless of their bloodline.
Astoria and Daphne had always been very close, in contrast to the icy distance often found between siblings in pure-blood families. Where Daphne was warmer, more sociable, and had a passionate love for music—especially playing the piano—Astoria was more reserved, with her eyes often on the stars. Still, the bond between the two sisters was undeniable. They were supportive of one another, despite their differences, and Astoria would sometimes join Daphne in playing piano pieces, humming softly along with the melody.
Unlike many Slytherins, who would have found it difficult to bond with those from different houses, Astoria had no trouble fitting in with Hermione and the rest of the group.
Daphne was the taller of the two Greengrass sisters, with a striking presence that commanded attention. Her hair, a rich chestnut brown, fell in loose waves around her shoulders, framing her delicate yet strong features.
Her eyes, a piercing green, held a certain sharpness that seemed to analyze everything around her. Daphne's lips were full, often set in a faint, confident smile that added to her composed demeanor. Her figure was elegant, with a natural grace to her movements that gave her an air of effortless beauty. Unlike her sister, Daphne exuded warmth, a kind of charm that made her approachable, though she still carried herself with an air of noble composure.
Millicent Bulstrode, a loud, outgoing Muggle-born, also joined their circle. She was known for her extroverted personality and loud laugh, which often made the rest of the group smile, even when they didn't expect to. Millicent had an ambition for both Muggle and magical engineering, and her ideas often sparked heated debates between her and the others. She was unapologetically herself, unafraid to speak her mind, and she quickly became a key player in the group dynamic.
She had a fuller figure, with a solid and athletic build, giving her an imposing stature for her age. Her dark brown hair, usually tied back into a messy ponytail, framed her round face, highlighting her strong jawline and bold features. Her eyes were dark, almost black, with an intensity that could be intimidating when she was focused on something. Despite her tough exterior, there was a subtle softness to her look, especially when she smiled or laughed, though that happened less often than one might expect. Millicent had a sense of confidence about her, though it wasn't the kind that screamed for attention—it was more like the quiet assurance of someone who knew exactly who they were.
His gaze landed on Blaise, who sat at the edge of the table, leaning slightly toward Ron. Blaise was smirking, clearly teasing Ron about something. Harry smirked too, noting the way Ron's face turned a deep shade of red—not the fiery anger he showed during arguments with Draco or Hermione, but a flustered, almost shy blush. It was amusing to watch, and Harry couldn't help but find it endearing.
A few seats away, Pansy and Hermione were huddled over a stack of books, engaged in an animated debate about the merits of Muggle technology versus magical advancements. Daphne and Millicent occasionally chimed in—Daphne with calm, calculated observations, and Millicent with bursts of excitement that drew amused glances from Madam Pince.
Astoria sat across from Draco, her posture straight and graceful as she flipped through a book on astronomy. Harry noticed how Draco's usual air of superiority seemed to fade when he talked to her. His tone was gentler, and his smile, devoid of its usual smugness, was genuinely warm. Harry couldn't help but find it surprising—and oddly pleasant—to see this softer side of Draco.
At the far end of the table, Neville and Theo were deep in discussion, their heads bent close together as they quietly exchanged notes on Herbology. Theo's calm nods and occasional smirks suggested genuine interest in whatever Neville was explaining.
Harry allowed himself to relax, leaning slightly closer to Theo, who was seated beside him. The soft glow of the library's lanterns and the low hum of conversation created a cocoon of peace. For the first time in a while, Harry felt at ease, surrounded by the friends who had become his haven amidst the chaos of his life.
As Harry leaned slightly toward Theo, taking in the comforting hum of the library, he suddenly felt Theo shift closer. The boy's breath was warm against Harry's ear as he whispered, his voice low and teasing.
"If you keep looking at everyone else like that, Potter," Theo murmured, his tone laced with unmistakable flirtation, "I might start getting jealous."
Harry froze for a moment, his cheeks instantly heating up as he turned his gaze to Theo. The Slytherin's smirk was subtle but utterly disarming, his sharp blue eyes glinting with mischief.
"I wasn't—" Harry began to protest, his voice coming out quieter than he'd intended, but Theo cut him off with a light chuckle.
"You were," Theo insisted, leaning even closer, his hand brushing against Harry's as he slid a parchment across the table toward him. "But don't worry. I won't hold it against you... yet."
The soft rasp of Theo's voice sent an odd flutter through Harry's chest. His heart seemed to stutter as he tried to focus on the notes Theo had just passed him, but the heat in his face only intensified under the weight of Theo's gaze.
Harry grumbled something incoherent, pretending to be deeply invested in the parchment, though he could feel Theo watching him with that smug expression that somehow made his stomach flip. Whatever crush he might be developing, he still wasn't ready to face it—or Theo's knowing smirk.
Yet, amidst the growing camaraderie, something else lingered in the back of Harry's mind—an absence of conflict that felt almost suspicious. Dumbledore, who in previous years had found endless excuses to call Harry to his office, had been unusually silent. Not a single cryptic message or unwanted meeting. Even Snape, who had always made a sport of tormenting him, was acting... different. His sharp comments had dulled, and though he still exuded the same cold authority, he seemed almost restrained, ignoring Harry most of the time rather than targeting him.
_________________
Lupin, however, was a different story.
No matter how many times Harry brushed him off, the Defense professor persisted. Each class ended the same way—Lupin waiting until the students had filed out before approaching Harry, a tentative look on his face.
"Harry," Lupin tried again one day, his voice soft and tinged with something that might have been regret.
Harry didn't bother hiding his exasperation as he threw his bag over his shoulder. "I've told you before, Professor. I'm not interested in talking."
Lupin sighed, stepping closer but careful not to invade Harry's space. "I just want to explain. To help you understand—"
"I understand enough," Harry snapped, his voice low but firm. He didn't want to attract the attention of the others still lingering in the classroom. "You had your chance to be there. You didn't take it. That's all there is to it."
"It's not that simple—"
Harry's laugh was bitter. "It is. You didn't care enough. You don't get to come back now and act like you do."
With that, he turned and walked out, his fists clenched at his sides as he ignored the familiar tightening in his chest. He didn't care. He couldn't care.
Theo was waiting for him just outside the classroom, leaning casually against the wall, his expression carefully neutral. The moment Harry stepped out, though, Theo fell into step beside him.
"Let me guess," Theo murmured, his voice soft but knowing. "Lupin again?"
Harry huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "He doesn't get it. He thinks he can just—show up now and fix things. Like it's that easy."
Theo didn't respond right away. Instead, he lightly nudged Harry's shoulder, his touch grounding. "You don't owe him anything," he said simply.
Harry looked up at Theo, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. There was no teasing smirk this time, no playful edge—just quiet understanding. It was enough to loosen some of the tension in Harry's chest.
"Thanks," Harry muttered, his voice quieter now.
Theo's smirk returned, softer this time. "Anytime, Potter."
As they made their way another classroom, Harry couldn't help but steal glances at Theo. The way his sharp features softened in the dim light of the corridors, the easy confidence in his stride, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make Harry feel... okay.
The thought lingered, unfamiliar and confusing. But for now, Harry was content to let it be.
_________________
As the weeks passed, Harry, Theo, Hermione, and Neville made it a point to spend time together, just the four of them. While the group of friends was growing, the original circle valued their moments of solitude, ensuring they stayed close. Their favorite spot for these gatherings? The Chamber of Secrets.
The chamber, once associated with fear and danger, had become a sanctuary for them—a hidden retreat where they could speak freely, away from prying eyes. The basilisk, no longer the fearsome creature it once was, had been saved by Harry and the others. They had refused to let it die after realizing it didn't want to harm anyone. With their help, the basilisk now had access to a protected area outside the castle to hunt and roam freely. Despite this, it often returned to the chamber, its loyalty to Harry unwavering.
Tonight, the enormous serpent was coiled peacefully near the edge of the chamber, its golden eyes half-lidded as it rested. Harry leaned against one of the basilisk's cool, smooth scales, while Theo sat beside him, their shoulders brushing. Theo's hand rested lightly on Harry's knee—a gesture that had become second nature between them.
"Salazar," Hermione began, leaning against a carved pillar near an old, ornate portrait hanging on the wall, "you've mentioned your friendship with Rowena before. Was she really as wise as everyone claims?"
The figure within the portrait, none other than Salazar Slytherin himself, shifted slightly. His dark eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and nostalgia. His voice, though soft, carried easily through the chamber. "Rowena Ravenclaw was brilliant, yes. But wisdom comes in many forms, young one. She could be stubborn and far too proud of her intellect, though we all were in our ways. Godric was the heart, Helga the soul, and Rowena... she was the mind."
"Sounds exhausting," Neville quipped, leaning against the chamber wall. "Imagine being the one everyone expects to have the answers."
Theo snorted, resting casually against Harry's shoulder. "Hermione can probably relate."
"Oi!" Hermione protested, though a small grin tugged at her lips. "I'll have you know I don't have all the answers. Just... most of them."
"She has a point," Harry chimed in, smirking. "Neville, you're just jealous you don't have a book named after your wit."
"Well, excuse me for being the group's comedic relief," Neville shot back with mock indignation.
Their laughter echoed through the chamber, loud enough to disturb the basilisk coiled in the shadows. The enormous creature lifted its head slightly, its forked tongue flicking out as it regarded them.
"You're all too loud," the basilisk hissed in Parseltongue, its tone faintly amused. "I am trying to rest."
Harry chuckled, responding in the same language. "Sorry. You can join the conversation if you like."
The basilisk gave a low, rumbling hiss that sounded almost like a chuckle. "I prefer to listen. You humans have such... strange ways of bonding."
"What's it saying?" Neville asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.
Harry grinned. "Just complaining about how loud we are."
Theo nudged Harry with his shoulder. "It's like you two have your own little secret club. Should I be jealous?"
"Of a snake?" Harry shot back, rolling his eyes but unable to suppress a small smile.
"You're cute when you're defensive," Theo murmured, just loud enough for Harry to hear.
Harry's face turned a light shade of pink, and he quickly looked away, focusing instead on Hermione, who had turned back to the portrait of Salazar.
"Salazar," she asked, "did you ever imagine your chamber would become... this?"
The figure in the painting crossed his arms, his expression softening. "Not quite. I envisioned it as a sanctuary, but this... this is better than I could have hoped. Perhaps it is proof that even legacies rooted in darkness can find light."
The basilisk hissed in agreement, lowering its massive head near Harry once again. Harry ran his fingers along its scales absently, a gesture of trust that would have seemed impossible months ago.
The group fell into an easy rhythm, their laughter filling the chamber as Neville's humor lightened the atmosphere. Hermione, ever curious, kept Salazar engaged in questions about his life and the early days of Hogwarts. Harry, however, found his attention repeatedly drawn to Theo—the way his hand lingered on Harry's arm, the teasing smirk that seemed to soften whenever their eyes met.
He didn't understand the feelings building within him, but surrounded by his friends, the enigmatic portrait of Salazar, and a surprisingly loyal basilisk, Harry felt more at home than he ever had before.