"Harry, if I could make a suggestion?"
I would like nothing less, actually.
He bit down forcefully on his thoughts though and turned to Mrs. Malfoy as politely as he could.
They were back at Malfoy manor, something about the floo connection between the head of the school board's home and Hogwarts not being quite as suspicious as one going to Gringotts and back. At least, if someone brought it up the questions would be coming to Lucius, who seemed very confident in his ability to handle that.
Said father was now speaking to Draco off to the side, and the body language was clear enough that Harry knew to just stand there and wait for them to be done doing whatever it was they were doing, despite how much he would've loved to just turn right around and head back to Hogwarts instead of dawdling any longer. Particularly in this particular manor.
Particularly with this particular woman, who now had the perfect opportunity to corner him in a conversation once again. Had he been a better Slytherin he would've asked after the peacocks or her embroidery since technically they'd had those small talk conversations before, but he'd let his tense silence speak for itself.
He doubted she didn't notice, and more assumed she just didn't care about his discomfort when she spoke. He didn't actually say anything, but he did politely look at her as if to continue, which she took easily.
"I'm sure a lot of that information will need to be thought over as it was quite a bit all at once. While you consider it all though, I would advise that Lupin would be a good contact for you… with some reservations." She had no outright expression on, which made it hard to pinpoint what she was after with this conversation, and he frowned a bit.
"Because he is a werewolf?" he couldn't help himself.
Her smile gave nothing away.
"More because he is a coward." She admitted, and he felt himself blink a bit in surprise. "It is not strictly his fault, but so far as spines go, his is certainly on the weaker side. Just something to be aware of."
"Alright," He allowed, not really sure what to make of that. It was weird enough to hear a Slytherin call a Gryffindor a coward, and he knew there had to be more to it, he just… wasn't about to get into it today, nor was he about to pick her brain for details. He was sure that was a bad idea.
Thankfully she seemed just fine with that short answer, and both were saved by Draco and his father returning to them after their side conversation.
"That should be all then. Study hard Draco," Lucius put a hand on his son's shoulder to which the smaller snake seemed to puff up as he nodded assuredly. One glance at Harry though, and Mr. Malfoy seemed to reconsider. "Before you go though, there is a spell I've taught you Draco that Mr. Potter here would likely get more use out of than most. It might be prudent you teach him when you have a chance."
"Oh?" Draco tilted his head, and Lucius just drew his wand and made a sharp stabbing-like motion, which Harry watched carefully.
"Serpensortia." He intoned clearly, and Harry jumped a bit as a huge black snake spun to life as if thread had materialized and wrapped around itself until suddenly it was a living, wriggling, breathing snake hissing wildly around at them in shock at its sudden existence.
Draco immediately perked up in excitement. "Oh yeah! You'll be great with this one then!"
Harry went from looking at his friend's eager gaze back down to the sudden snake, and like a radio tuning in suddenly the hissing filtered through his ears properly.
"Where am I? Who ruined my nap!?" It was totally furious and literally spitting mad, huge fangs bared in indignant rage at apparently being woken up. Looking closely though Harry saw its deep black scales had a very distinct blue shine to the light that he actually found incredibly beautiful.
"Sssorry about that, we didn't mean to wake you." He told it politely, and it immediately stopped hissing to turn around and stare lidless eyes at him.
"He talksss?"
"Hello…"
"Ha! It works!" Draco grinned triumphantly. Lucius looked between Harry and his son for a moment before nodding once.
"Teach him this spell Draco, it will be worth his while."
"Right," the blond nodded obediently. "It's actually a pretty simple one, especially given that you're so good with transfiguration. It shares some principles, I think."
"What, summoning and transfiguration?" Harry wondered, not really having touched the subject before.
"It's not really summoning, that's a bit too high level for second years."
"Oh, so it's not a real snake?"
"No," Lucius chimed in. "It will fade when the spell does in a couple hours and is more easily banished than a summoned snake."
"I see." He turned back to the snake still curled between them all, who was still looking at him in a way only a snake could. He bent down a bit to address it more face-to-face. "Did you know you weren't a real sssnake?"
"No idea."
"Apologiesss."
"I don't mind, if it meansssss I can go back to my nap."
Harry was pretty sure that was just death, or the fake-snake equivalent of death, but decided not to comment out of politeness.
"Would you be my companion until you return to your nap then?" He liked this one, it wasn't like the mantle snakes nor the boa at the zoo—this one was definitely dumber and that kind of made him very endearing. Like a duckling cluelessly about to walk out into traffic, he had the urge to scoop him up. Though urges aside he was under no illusion that a snake was anything like a duckling so he figured asking permission was best.
He bent down and opened his hands in invitation but let the creature choose for himself, and as expected the snake gave a soft hiss, the equivalent of a serpent hum, as it slithered immediately toward him.
"I ssssssuppose I don't have anything better to do. I'm very venomousssss you know, is there ssssomeone I can bite?"
"Not at this moment, maybe another time."
"Ssssounds good. You're warm blooded yesss? Thisssss will be great, I can have another nap."
"Pleassse do." Harry was highly amused as it curled itself into his hands and let itself be picked up, then slithered and bobbed like a curious cat until Harry let it up on his shoulder, where it immediately wiggled around to get comfortable. That nap-position ended up being loosely around his neck, just under the collar of his shirt and well out of sight thanks to a mental thought ensuring his invisibility cloak made any stray exposed black scales disappear from view. The scales were smooth and quickly became warm against his skin, so it was oddly nice actually.
"Yessss, that's the ssspot." It sighed contentedly, muscular body writhing once like he was settling in for a long nap—it was enough that Harry almost yawned too, since he already felt like a nap himself from the blood test ritual taking so much out of him.
All situated and reminded of his desire to get back to the castle, he looked up once more to see all three Malfoys staring at him.
Mrs. Malfoy smiled politely at best. Draco and Mr. Malfoy on the other hand, both did that look-away-quickly thing like the ceiling was suddenly going to start raining on them and they were rightfully surprised by that odd turn of events.
Huh. Guess it's genetic.
000
Snape was indeed waiting on them when they got back to the castle, but spared no words as they immediately fled the Headmaster's office. Given the risk of it all (not knowing if the Headmaster would suddenly come back early or not, for one) the lack of hesitation was probably a good thing. Harry pulled the edge of his invisibility cloak up his neck some, just in case the Potions master spotted his new living accessory, but the bat simply disappeared down the hall as soon as the gargoyle slid shut behind them.
He didn't ask, he barely looked at them, he just walked away.
There was no way he wasn't curious though, or…
"Does he know?" He turned to Draco as they walked a much calmer pace back down the hall—vaguely towards the Great Hall since they might've been able to snag some very late breakfast after the hell of the morning it'd been. Not that Harry was exactly hungry but some tea at, say, the Hufflepuff table where he could have a nice conversation about nothing important sounded rather lovely.
Oh wait, I have a snake on me… maybe we shouldn't be wandering too close to non-Slytherins right now.
"That you're a parselmouth? Yeah, I couldn't get him to help without telling him." He blond admitted. "He also knew this was for a blood test, but he didn't ask for details."
"Are you going to tell him?"
"Not unless he asks and not unless he has a really good reason for me to share. He was a right pain about helping in the first place." Draco pouted slightly, which dragged a small smile to Harry's lips.
"Well, I guess I wouldn't mind if you could get a perfect Potions grade or something out of the deal. If you could work me not failing into the bargain too, I'd appreciate it."
"Ha. I doubt even handing him a copy of your bloodline tree outright would get that." The blond snickered.
Harry was cut off from responding when they turned the corner, and surprise of all surprises they found Nott casually leaning against the corridor wall, a very familiar looking sleek object under his arm.
"Is that my broom!? The hell are you doing!?" Draco's indignant cry confirmed Harry's suspicions, but Theo just rolled his pale eyes and held it out as if this were the world's biggest chore for him.
"Quidditch try outs got pushed back. You can still make it if you go right now—also you owe me one now."
"Really!?" Harry lit up at the sudden good news, but Draco didn't even hesitate as he snatched the offered broom and took off down the hallway without a backwards glance.
"Fine, I owe you!" He called distractedly over his shoulder as he bolted, Harry laughing lightly after him as he turned to Theo—who just rolled his eyes again.
"Tell me you didn't do that out of the kindness of your heart?"
"Of course not, but I'm not telling him that."
"Did you even do it?"
"No, but I'm taking credit."
"Fair… can I ask who?"
"No. Flint made the call to push it back a couple hours—maybe someone did something, maybe he just did it arbitrarily." The tone implying even if he did know of some deal going on, he was not about to give anything away.
"Alright then." Harry grinned, not even bothered by the lack of communication. Draco might have a chance to get on the team then, he didn't have to choose between his friend or his passion after all.
There was some nervousness about it, since if someone had done this to try and get something out of the Malfoy heir by doing him this favor and hoping Draco felt obligated enough to repay in kind, it might back him into a corner he didn't want to be in. But, Draco had jumped at the chance and hadn't looked back, so foolish as it may be… like Harry reaching out to Mr. Greengrass, maybe it was simply worth the risk in Draco's mind.
Despite the undercurrent of uneasiness, there was still an intense amount of relief in this turn of good fortune. He only hoped Draco's skill lived up to the (his) hype and he actually made it on the team.
The fact his first quidditch match of the year might be against Draco lifted his spirits significantly.
"Were you headed to breakfast?" Nott asked, and honestly Harry was pretty interested in just going back to bed right now (the morning had taken a lot out of him) but… his new friend hiding under his collar meant going back to the lion's tower was likely a bad idea. With the cloak there was a chance no one would notice, but if they did…
The concern also reminded him that he needed to talk to Blaise before the guy got bored of keeping secrets and started gossiping without permission. He needed to think of what to say to Blaise in the first place even but… sooner was definitely better.
Also, he wanted to be able to congratulate Draco, or at least be there for him if it didn't turn out so well once try-outs were done.
"Can I hang out in the Slytherin dorm for a bit? That was… a lot. Don't think I'm ready for Gryffindor right now." He admitted, and thankfully Theo just nodded blankly like he didn't care either way, turning to walk in the right direction and Harry following suit at a calm pace. The snake around his neck shifted some in the draft castle air and he lifted his collar a bit once more to shield him. He considered giving it a name, even in just his own head, but if it was going to disappear in a couple hours that seemed like a waste somehow.
"Interesting time?" Was all Theo asked about it as they went.
"For sure." Harry blew out a tried breath, the understatement that was making him even wearier. "I believe I need to have a conversation with Blaise when he's free."
"He took off after breakfast and I didn't ask, so Merlin knows when he'll be back." Another eye roll which Harry smiled at, and they just walked in compatible silence through the halls.
The lack of tension, urgency, or even obligation to talk was actually really nice, too.
He felt more open to talking when no one was pestering him about it, and despite his calm, cool, and collected act, Theo had been the one who'd almost fainted when he'd first spoken to the mantle snakes. Blaise was the one he was doing business with, but he knew Theo wanted an answer almost as bad. He was either just too respectful to pester him by asking, or he knew he had nothing to trade for that information and wasn't even going to embarrass himself by trying.
Despite how uninvolved he claimed to be, he had come up to the second flood with Draco's broom to give him news he wanted to hear, and was going to let Harry into the Slytherin dorm with no fight. Both could be argued to also benefit him somehow (Draco would feel indebted by the gesture, he could keep Harry close to get information out of him, etc)… but for some reason Harry's instinct was saying that was not all there was.
It could be the main reason obviously, but there was also something else to it, Harry was sure.
"I know you're not going to ask but… I did find some answers. Should probably tell Blaise first but, I don't think it's nearly as bad as I was dreading it'd turn out to be. I think."
One blue iris flickered to side-eye him as he spoke, before looking ahead casually.
"That's a slight relief." He paused, a long couple seconds as if considering before continuing. "I was under the impression a blood test could be a bit… unpleasant."
"Yeah, can confirm. Turns out there's a potion to cure you of the effects mostly, though I had to ask for it specifically." He sighed in annoyance.
"Oh." He blinked. "I wonder if that's… common."
"If it is I'm about to get really pissed."
Theo gave a soft scoff which Harry thought was probably his version of a laugh, and perked up. "Not gonna lie, I'm exhausted though."
"I can only imagine."
They walked in comfortable silence the rest of the way, Harry automatically stopping several meters before where he knew the door was so Theo could use the password in peace, still hyper-aware that he was a guest here. He had a feeling a lot of his… welcomeness in this dorm balanced on the fact he did not make himself at home exactly. Him knowing the password would probably get whoever ended up spilling it in trouble, so he was fully planning to go to his grave pretending he didn't know it, even if he somehow did pick it up.
It wasn't until he was passing by Theo as the Slytherin held the door open for him to pass into that he got close enough for the sharp-eyed bookworm to notice his… obvious addition.
He didn't shout, thankfully since there were people milling about the common room in front of them, minding their own business, but Harry noticed him freeze solid and the fact he was staring blatantly at his neck was kind of a big give away.
He blushed a bit and pulled his collar up pointedly.
"Um… it's a serpensortia; Mr. Malfoy showed me. Er… another reason not to go back to Gryffindor just yet."
Theo… nodded after a long pause and just lead the way into the common room as if that hadn't just happened, which Harry was thankful for.
000
While probably not the best location, Harry found himself unable to keep his eyes open as he dozed lightly in what felt like the middle of the Slytherin common room. Because of how the different areas were segmented, each little sitting area was its own personal, semi-private bubble, so while he knew he was literally in "enemy" territory, it didn't seem to matter. Not to his weary eyes at least.
Despite it still being pretty warm weather for early fall, the castle was drafty and the fireplace they were sitting in front of was cozy as hell. Theo had plopped himself down into what was clearly "his" chair as he curled up like a cat, unearthing a book from seemingly nowhere and diving in, totally content to ignore his guest as Harry occupied the equally cozy armchair across from him. Theo had agreed to let him hang out in the Slytherin dorm, he did not agree to entertain or talk to him and honestly Harry was totally fine with that—he'd had enough talking for now, and he knew there'd be plenty to do later that he wasn't much looking forward to.
The silence was in no way awkward as it never seemed to be with Theo, the fireplace crackling and the magically muffled murmurings of conversations happening in other sitting areas were amazing background noises that seemed to lull him right off of consciousness. The snake curled around his neck was snoring soft, hissing snores and had warmed up to his own body temperature, which despite the lack of fur was honestly kind of cuddly and comforting. Not to mention his body was blatantly exhausted after the bloodline ritual despite the potion curing him of the discomfort of it all, it'd still gone through some major events. If anything the relief of it all being over was enough to make his limbs limp in blessed relaxation after the tense morning.
He'd had half a thought not to fall asleep out here and had pulled out Dell's journals to try and read a bit to get his mind off things. But… he wasn't even sure how many pages he'd actually read, much less if he'd actually absorbed any of the words on the page and not just stared at her handwriting blankly, before he was suddenly blinking blearily back to consciousness at a sudden motion nearby. It had been a solid surprise nap and he had no idea how long it had really been, but Theo had not budged from his position across from him, nor did he do more then shoot one sharp glance at their interruption before going back to his text, pointedly ignoring it.
Wherever Harry had drifted off to was cut off sharply by voices coming into their area, suddenly becoming clear as the muffling enchantments gave way to the newcomer's approach.
"Well what did you expect; I told you that you should've offered to buy their brooms." It was a surprise to see Tracy Davis herself, close enough to their alcove for her voice to be heard, but the reason was clear enough in that she was talking to Draco—his hair was wet and he'd changed his robes, so he'd clearly gone to try outs and gotten cleaned up already. The Malfoy heir was obviously intending to sit down with him and Theo, and Davis had followed to continue their conversation.
"And as I told you, there was no need. Clearly." He sneered, chin up proudly—which told Harry all he needed to know.
"Congratulations then," he smiled and Draco flashed him a grin while Davis rolled her eyes and just walked away rather than acknowledge him.
"Watch your back, Malfoy." She called behind her uncaringly, and the blond just scoffed openly although she was already gone.
"Not a chance." He huffed under his breath as he stole the chair beside Harry's. Upon his questioning look he explained. "She was also at try outs. She likes quidditch: she's not that good."
"How much does good mean in comparison to politics?" He asked, sitting up straight again and trying to subtly stretch the nap out of his muscles. Embarrassingly enough he had to bite down on a yawn too.
Draco frowned as he considered the question.
"I mean politics matter but winning is the most important thing. People want to be on a winning team, not just on the team—Flint would be a lunatic if he let politics dictate all his captain duties because then he'd just be the captain who couldn't lead Slytherin to victory."
"I mean he's still going to be that captain, but I see your point." Harry smirked.
"Over my dead body." He immediately snapped back, but also couldn't help but grin at the reminder.
Because just going off the context clues, he'd made it.
"What was that about the brooms then?"
Draco waved that off in annoyance. "That's politics. I could've bribed my way onto the team by getting them all the new Nimbus 2001 series, but there's more reasons not to. And it didn't matter: I knew they'd all get them anyway and true to form they all had them at tryouts today."
"Not sure if you care but you would've gotten a ton of flack from the Gryffindors for that too. More than typical, I mean."
"Yeah I definitely don't care about that, but the point remains." He dismissed that promptly as he settled back into his chair. Harry smiled fondly over the decision anyway although he doubted he was in any way part of it.
Draco let his talent instead of his father's money do the talking instead, which Harry liked quite a bit honestly. He wouldn't have judged Draco either way, not out loud at least, since there could've been a million political reasons to do it the bribing way, but he was happy it'd worked out like this instead. The Gryffindor part of him was much happier at least—now having a solid grasp of the Malfoy elders it was easier on his nerves that he was doing things himself and not needing to lean or involve his parents, who could have a million of their own ulterior motives going on even with their own son. This way, it was Draco himself who'd achieved something and the pride he felt for his friend was purer than if it'd been tainted by worry at the strings his father's money came with.
"In any case, if I'd bribed my way onto the team, strategically the person Flint would've kicked off to have me on would've been Higgs."
"Terence Higgs? The seeker?" Harry blinked. "You don't play seeker."
"I'm awesome at every position, thanks." He snarked, but there was no heat or conviction behind his sarcasm. "But yeah no, I've only been training my whole life to be a chaser, so that would've sucked. I mean I'd still love to be on the team no matter what role I got but given the nature of the role and the pressure, with my lack of training… yeah that would've sucked."
"Don't get me wrong, going head to head with you like that would've been fantastic—but mostly because I can definitely beat you when you're playing my position instead of the one you're actually good at."
"Seems like a hollow victory."
"I'm a hollow person—I like winning; don't care about the details."
Theo scoffed lightly into his book as Draco rolled his eyes.
"You should've been in Slytherin." The blond complained.
"People keep saying that." He mused playfully, earning yet another eye roll. "So politically speaking you didn't replace anyone right? They had an opening after Montague."
Both Slytherins smiled automatically at the reminder briefly before Draco waved his hands enthusiastically.
"We did have competition: Pucey is one of the current beaters but same deal, he got onto the team somehow but beater wasn't his preferred role, he also wanted the open chaser spot. I got it though, so he's stuck as beater which he's fine with, I guess? Not thrilled and also he's not half as aggressive as Flint wants him to be so I'm sure there'll be some kind of switch or something before games actually start." He ranted a bit.
The Slytherin quidditch team alliance was a concept Harry was more than familiar with at this point—it was no secret amongst Slytherin house (or the rest of the school if they cared to pay attention to it, which they didn't) and it had been the center of Draco's attention for the past several weeks leading up to try-outs. He hadn't quite understood the gravity of it last year, but he sure as hell had had plenty of deeper in-depth conversations about it since he'd gone after Montague last year—him being part of the alliance and him also having been dropped like a sack of potatoes meant a lot more than Harry had originally realized. Blaise in particular still liked to talk in lofty, breathlessly happy tones about the boy's demise and was delighted to fill him in on all the intricacies about why it was so entertaining that Harry had initially missed.
Adrian Pucey and Terence Higgs were outer members of the alliance—they got onto the team in their own ways not strictly related to their talent so they were clearly useful to the alliance. Both were dark, but more… Theo level dark. So, dark, as in to hell with the Ministry and it's stupid laws, but were mainly after self-preservation and success, not so much because of any belief system they may or may not buy into. Pucey was in the twins' year level and Higgs was a fifth year so they'd played against them both a lot and confirmed they were the least of their worries—average players and also decent (ish) enough for Slytherins in their opinions. They were about appearances and politics and success, and also apparently had a passion for quidditch while they were at it, but they weren't exactly death eaters in training.
The same could not be said about Marcus Flint the captain. Harry had a healthy distance and education about Slytherin politics and was starting to be able to tell the difference between those that chose to be dark because it was the safest, quickest way to power and success in certain situations, and those who didn't give a shit about idealistic things like that and were dark for, well, appropriately dark reasons. It was one thing to play the part and be arrogant and self-centered—it was another to genuinely truly believe certain people were scum beneath your heel and deserved to suffer simply for being beneath you.
Draco, Blaise, Theo… they wouldn't be hanging out with Hermione for either appearance's sake or simply because they genuinely just didn't like muggleborns, but none of them would go out of their way to hex her because they honestly, earnestly hated her as a person (Blaise might if he discovered some arbitrary bit of blackmail on her, but that was kind of different—he wouldn't be violent about it, even if he would absolutely be cruel). They had appearances to maintain and also had some beliefs Harry didn't agree with about the sort of people they chose to hang out with, but they didn't want Hermione specifically to just up and die. They didn't care about her enough to have those kind of thoughts, probably. Not to say they would care if she did up and die randomly, but they wouldn't care if she didn't either—they cared absolutely zero, essentially.
People like Flint though…
Flint would throw a hex just because he could. Just because he hated muggleborns and thrived off their suffering.
If Voldemort was still around and recruiting death eaters, he wouldn't be one of those who joined out of social pressure or fear or to protect loved ones—no he'd join freely, willingly, and damn near gleefully probably.
Given he was the captain of both the team and the alliance apparently, he really set the tone for how the alliance was run and what it acted on. Given how strong and influential it was within Slytherin house, branching into almost every year level and made up of several big pureblood names of different reputations and strengths… it was a big dominating force in Slytherin politics. And all that meant Marcus Flint was a Big ProblemTM that no one could really do much about.
The only saving grace—so says Blaise and to which Theo looked like he vehemently agreed—was that Flint was apparently dumb as a rock. He had the control pretty much by dumb luck and being good at quidditch, but a lot of the larger schemes the alliance got up to was definitely not his idea, and if he claimed anything was of his own creation, then the most common belief was that someone has just tricked him into thinking it was his idea in the first place. He was one of those loud trouble-makers who picked fights and forced other Slytherins to follow his lead in front of the other houses in the name of appearing as a united house, but there was a lot of mumblings here and there about how bloody annoying that was. Harry was amused to note that several people seemed to have beef with specific Gryffindors only because Flint picked a fight for them and now were pissed a Gryffindor had hexed them or gotten one over on them—in a fight they hadn't wanted to participate in, in the first place!
Thankfully his dethroning of Montague had rattled Slytherin enough to pause a bit more when Harry was in the vicinity, regardless of what Flint was up to. They had to walk a fine line of course, but the less fights that got started the less grudges got started too—and long term that was a good thing.
The rest of the Slytherin quidditch team alliance wasn't any less of a problem either though. The other beater, Lindsay Gold, was actually a half-blood seventh year who came from a family of cut-throat businessmen and women—not even Draco could confirm what her family even did though and Blaise had only grinned far too evilly when he heard that question so Harry had promptly decided he didn't want to know. She was aggressive enough for Flint's liking which had bad written all over it—Harry remembered many bludgers coming his way courtesy of Ms. Gold so he was extremely on guard with her.
Miles Bletchley was the keeper Harry actually didn't know much about aside from he played almost as dirty as Flint in a game and was on his shit list only for being a terrible sport and an infuriatingly competent goal-blocker. The last was Cassius Warrington, who was frankly the tallest Slytherin Harry knew of, towering over pretty much everyone despite only being a fourth year. He had a face like stone that was permanently set to a neutral expression of an angry scowl and was typically right beside Flint when the seventh year was picking fights. He was actually a pretty decent chaser but Harry was thinking he was likely more Flint-level-dark then anything else which wasn't good. Both Warrington and Bletchley had the pureblood status dark-leaning people loved and matching family businesses/inheritances you couldn't scoff at, so both were troublesome players in the political game.
These people all aligned was… yeah, Harry saw how big of a deal it was now that he'd been doing this for a while. He really wanted to ask what Draco was going to do now that he'd made the team—yes the guy loved quidditch but he couldn't not see the kind of opportunities he was presented with right now and be tempted at least a little bit. Dark as the alliance was, it was powerful as hell and the kinds of things he could do with this…
Well, if Harry were in the same position he'd be plotting hard right about now. Draco hadn't told him anything but he trusted his friend had something planned, and would just wait for him to share it when he was ready—or if he wanted to share, that is. He really hoped Draco would though because the curiosity was undying.
"Sounds like you beat a lot of people out though." He noted, if both Tracy and Pucey had gone out it wasn't just up for the taking then.
"Several, I think there was about twelve people total." Draco puffed up proudly, and you know Harry could let him have this one: it was entirely his achievement and he'd done it successfully.
"Congratulations again then, I look forward to beating you."
"Oh ha," He rolled his eyes. "What have you been up to then this morning?"
"Oh, uh… not much." He confessed, suddenly realizing he still didn't know what time it was. If twelve people had tried out and Draco still had time to change afterwards, it'd definitely been a while.
He didn't want to confess he'd just fallen asleep like a child, and pointedly ignored Theo who was smirking into his book. For once Harry was thankful he just stayed quiet with his knowledge.
"Was reading a bit but really just waiting around for Blaise for obvious reasons."
"Right," Draco blew out a breath, leaning back slightly as if the better part of his day wore off to remind him there was still business to be done after this morning. "How's your new friend then?"
"Awake against his will is seems," Harry smiled in amusement as he placed a hand pointedly over his collar, having tuned it out mostly but definitely aware of the soft grumbles beneath his ear about people talking too loudly over his nap. At his touch he felt the snake writhe a bit and poke his head up to see what was happening.
Draco just shook as head as he caught sight of it as if he still couldn't believe that had happened.
"You can't go back to Gryffindor tower with that thing, they'll flay you alive."
"No need to tell me that."
"Potter." A new voice cut in brightly, and the man they'd been waiting on finally appeared, Blaise smugly leaning between his and Draco's armchairs casually. "To what do we owe the honor? And what have we done with the lions now that's upset them?"
"Nothing yet, Draco is just concerned my new friend will earn me some hassle when I go back." Harry deflected the probe for gossip a bit too politely to believed, and sure enough the tall Slytherin cocked a rather snarky brow at him.
"New friend?"
Theo pulled his book up over his face when Harry grinned as mischievously as he knew how.
"Sir, this boy just insssulted sssnakes. Could you ssscare him a bit for me?"
"Eh? He DARESSS?" The curious probing head instantly reared up, popping out of his collar and hissing violently in the shake equivalent of a bellow—less than a foot in front of Blaise's face where he was leaning over his armrest. "WHERE ISSS HE!?"
Blaise flailed, remarkably managing to not make a sound although had he been a lesser man he probably would've shrieked given the expression on his face. To his credit he gave a wild spasm of his whole body—and given how bloody tall he was that was quite the motion—and did a neat hop almost a full meter back. As he landed he had both hands over his heavily-breathing chest and was staring wide-eyed indignation and shock at the snake, as if he were an old century woman who'd just been flashed somehow.
"Oh my god," Draco scoffed loudly before dissolving into laughter, and Harry couldn't help but join him at least briefly before stroking the angry snakes head to calm it down, feeling more bad about riling the fake-creature up than scaring Blaise to be honest.
"Ssservesss him right!"
"Indeed. Thank you, Sir."
He gave a silent huff and glared at Blaise once more for good measure before sinking back down into his collar and snuggling up to his warmth once more.
Blaise, for his part, continued to stare as he processed what had just happened while Draco was almost crying on the seat beside him.
"…what the hell, Potter."
"I'm impressed you didn't scream." Harry had to admit, even if it was complimenting Blaise it was the truth. Boy had composure at the weirdest of times.
"It's a serpentosia, it'll fade in a couple hours but he can't go back to Gryffindor like that." Draco finally collected himself enough to wipe away a tear and explain.
Blaise made a face. "That's not the only reason—you have approximately five minutes to spill before our deal expires and I go tell everyone. You siccing a snake on me only makes my motivation stronger," He snarked, finding his way to the remaining seat left in the area and holding himself tall like he hadn't just flailed like a loon. He did make an almost pointedly large arc away from where Harry was sitting though, much to his amusement.
"Don't be like that, I've been in this seat for hours—where were you then?"
"Classified," He drawled uncaringly, sinking with regal posture into his seat that in no way looked comfy. "And I don't care where you've been, now you're on my time. So spill."
"Impatient much," he rolled his eyes but gave a large breath. He felt… well still kind of blank about the whole thing to be honest, but the nap was nice, Draco's success was a nice pick me up, and scaring Blaise had been the cherry on top. No time like now to get into this when he felt relatively fine for once.
"Okay so… yes, it is… a distant relation. Very, very distant." He admitted, and noted Theo's book had at some point vanished and he was acting like he'd always been part of this conversation. That was kind of amusing.
He did not need to elaborate on what relation he was talking about since both seemed to press their lips a bit more in consideration. Killer poker faces of course, especially since they'd all been half thinking this was going to be the case for a week now. The surprising part though…
"Apparently Salazar Slytherin's youngest daughter was believed to be sterile—she never had kids. Or, we thought she didn't. She was a squib so probably disowned or at the very least hidden, and every one of her descendants henceforth was muggle."
Blaise's eyes bugged out, while Theo blinked as if he hadn't quite heard that right.
"Woah, woah, woah… you're telling me it's not connected to the Potter line? That it was your muggleborn mom's side!?"
"We saw it, clear as day." Draco confirmed simply, earning an almost comical double take at the news.
"The whole line is non-magical until my mother—she's the first witch since Salazar's daughter herself." He explained a bit more, watching their reactions carefully.
"That…"
Clearly, he was not sure what to make of that. None of them were, it seemed, as they sat in silence for a moment to take that in.
It wasn't a direct line of course, but to have a magical ancestor like Salazar Slytherin to then be muggle for centuries… the pureblood in them was probably having a conniption trying to figure out what to think of that. Or at the very least trying to figure out what they should be thinking about it. Harry most certainly hadn't had time to really ponder over what he himself thought about it yet, so it wasn't like they could take their cues from him either.
"Okay, so… you are Slytherin's heir. Or one of them, but it's not like… previous allegations were exactly wrong either. With how a blood test works, no wizard since Slytherin himself has been able to produce a blood test to prove previous thoughts wrong." Theo spoke slowly as if he were thinking out loud, and Blaise narrowed his eyes as if wondering if he should buy into that or not.
"Except for my mother apparently who probably never took one. Or four." Harry admitted.
Blaise raised a brow incredulously. "You took four blood tests?"
"Three, but yeah that… was probably not good." Draco admitted. "Turns out there's a potion to fix it though."
"Really?"
"You have to ask for it specifically, the goblins don't just give it to you."
"Really? Bloody hell," And yes, Blaise looked very pissed about that news, so Harry suspected there'd been many blood tests or goblin rituals Slytherin families took part in that would've made curing potions extremely worthwhile. Maybe he should mention to Axeclaw how much some purebloods would be willing to pay for those potions if he could remember to offer them up front.
"The nap makes more sense then." Even Theo was looking at him rather sympathetically.
"What nap?" Draco frowned and Harry brushed by that topic real quick before Blaise could catch interest too.
"The point being yeah, Theo is probably right. I am also a Slytherin heir, ignoring any others out there who claim similarly. I would have no way of confirming that from my particular blood tree which isn't information worth doing anything with. It also explains the parseltongue and is honestly a relief that the relation is so distant and direct, not… something closer to this generation."
Meaning chances were unless Voldemort also had a muggle parent—and given his rhetoric that was laughable—he probably wasn't descended from the same squib daughter of Salazar Slytherin. He was probably claiming lineage from one of the other well-known children who had very magical bloodlines for centuries before getting lost in the muddle of a pureblood intermarrying-web, meaning Harry's own relation to him was removed by literally dozens and dozens and dozens of generations. In fact he hadn't even inherited much of Slytherin's own magical signature so they were even more far removed still—magically and physically and every other way.
For all intents and purposes, he wasn't related to Voldemort and fucking hell was that a relief.
"Realistically yes, but it's still the same family line even its far removed and from a mostly muggle family at that. It's the superstitions that will make this important." Theo frowned, and Harry almost felt that fly right over his head.
"Excuse me? Superstitions? What superstitions?"
"It's stupid." Theo confirmed. "But most old families tend to half-heartedly believe it even if they know it's not true. Like crossing yourself when you spill salt—it's been proven that's bullshit even in the magical world but almost everyone still does it."
"It's a thing amongst purebloods, about family magic. Like today, with you inheriting the Monroe family name—you inherited their magic now too." Draco explained a bit more clearly. Harry did recall that… he was happy he seemed to have a huge dose of Monroe family magic over his name instead of merely his father's or (clearly) his mother's line. "The Monroe family was an Ancient and Noble house, they can will magic to people. Not every bloodline can."
"Really?" He blinked, not having even considered that. "But I know others have… at the risk of sharing too much, my account manager at Gringotts said many people have willed me inheritance since many family heirs were killed off in the war."
Blaise raised one brow but shrugged. "If someone wills you magical inheritance, it isn't like gifting you sudden magical capacity or skill. I doesn't do anything to you actually—it means your children and your bloodline after you would now have a mix of many seemingly foreign magical signatures not from either parent. It's actually pretty common honestly, childless witches and wizards with nieces, nephews, godchildren, friends' kids they want to inherit a piece of their magical signature—it happens all the time. Pretty sure I got a few from a couple of Mother's exes."
Grim as that extremely nonchalant admission was, Harry did feel slightly less weird about so many apparently willing him things—Axeclaw most certainly hadn't phrased it like that last year.
"Monroe is different though. There were only ever seven Ancient and Noble houses, and Monroe was one of them. Now Potter is too." Theo got back on point.
"It's because I avenged them, yeah?"
"Right of The Conqueror." Draco shrugged, and seeing Harry's questioning look continued. "It's one of the ancient magics; not very useful actually but has its own prestige in a way. 'Whoever kills the beast, owns the beast' is a saying you'll hear tossed about a lot too—an act of revenge or victory from someone of noble lineage triggers it. So if someone of a noble house kills a magical beast, that beast is theirs. Similarly, Monroe was wiped out and by killing the one responsible your bloodline as a noble one got the spoils—meaning everything Monroe left behind if there was anything to get. Since they were an Ancient and Noble house, that means their magic. Technically only Ancient houses can transfer magic to someone while they're still alive—in every other situation the gift is for the recipients children who aren't born yet. I'm sure you actually avenged many bloodlines that night the dark lord fell, but you wouldn't know it—your kids would though."
Harry tried to absorb that, flashing back to some of Daphne's lessons and realizing the gap he'd been missing.
"The Potter line was a noble line, so the fact I of noble blood—somehow—committed a magical act of victory against the person who happened to wipe out a family of ancient blood whose magic could be transferred… then it did."
"Essentially, yes." Draco nodded.
"So there are only seven Ancient and Noble houses but I take it there are a ton of Ancient or Noble houses."
"Yep. They're all over the place—Ancient houses are, obviously, old as hell. Noble houses are a bit pickier—you can actually gain nobility for your house in your lifetime but you can also lose it. Wielding a noble weapon, performing some noble magic—the ways are countless although in modern days it's less common. Most fancy noble weapons have been locked up tight in vaults for centuries and the specifics on what is considered noble magic have long since become archaic. It doesn't change much these days." The blond waved it off.
"But getting back to the point here, Ancient and Noble houses aren't titled that way just for sounding awesome, you know." Blaise pointed out bluntly. "They say Ancient families, which Slytherin definitely is, have inherited magic from their long line of ancestors, and it's not limitless. That's the joke about why Longbottom seems to struggle so much—all his old relatives are still alive and eating up most of the family magic. In reality it works over generations, not just because your grandparents are alive or anything, but the saying goes that the first born always has the most magic because there's only so much in a generation able to be given out. That's why a lot of pureblood families only have one child, as the common belief is that the second will have less magic as there is inherently less family magic available after the birth of the first."
Theo huffed quietly, giving Harry a pointed look. "Yet another reason the Weasleys get a lot of shit, though one of the more pointless, superstitious reasons for sure. Even by my standards and I don't even like them."
"I think I get it… I think."
"It's a pureblood superstition that's never been confirmed. And pureblood families have a lot of those to be sure, but that one is a bit ridiculous even for the most zealous of families." Blaise rolled his eyes, before pausing as if considering if over once more. "But why would your mother's line be muggle until her? It wouldn't not make sense that the other lines had just finally died out enough to give her side a share of the family magic. The Dark Lord probably wanted to be the sole heir and did a good job ensuring he was the only one. That he knew of at least."
"Well, if you remember he did try and kill me as a baby for no apparent reason other than that he hated my parents in particular." Harry countered just as skeptically.
"He… did go personally." Theo allowed, rather quietly.
There was a tense pause as the three Slytherins exchanged significant looks. It didn't take much for Harry to fill in the dots either even though he hadn't grown up around potentially death eater adults: Voldemort probably could've, probably usually, sent death eaters to do his dirty work for him. But no, the night Lily and James Potter died, he was there personally.
As if it was personal—enough to warrant going himself when you didn't have to be a Ravenclaw to realize at that point in the war he didn't need to do anything personally at all. His sudden downfall at the hands of a toddler had been sensational news not just for the good thing it was, but also because up until that night, Voldemort had been winning the war.
He had the people, the resources, the power. Everything had been going his way and he'd been winning—only to suddenly choke in the eleventh hour it seemed. Why would he have gone personally to kill an infant? Of the many men, women, and children he'd killed, why had he chosen that night to go himself instead?
If it was personal… if it had to be by his own hand… there were only so many known reasons for why that could possibly be, and Theo's implication that this might be one of those reasons wasn't wrong by any means. It was just very twisted, but at this point Harry's opinion of Voldemort literally could not be lower so it wasn't a shock.
"So… maybe that was part of it. He wanted to erase the family side-branches so he would have all the family magic." He put together.
"It doesn't really work that way. First of all, how the hell could he have known you were also a descendant in the first place? And secondly, he was already born, he can't retroactively gain more family magic just by killing family members. So at best he was ensuring his child would be the strongest since Slytherin himself—and pardon me while I barf at that thought." Blaise—the untouchable Slytherin and possibly one of the only people who could get away with saying something like that—mimicked barfing and still somehow looked composed while he did it.
"Same." Draco and Theo chorused almost immediately, but they were much quieter and reserved about it.
"We can speculate all we like but I'm sure the longer we sit here the more theories we can come up with. Just because it makes sense doesn't make it true." Theo brushed off the conversation in its entirety, and the other two Slytherins seem to automatically agree as they leaned off. Harry perked up, since that sounded like one of those common Slytherin sayings that Theo was just repeating, and it was an interesting one for sure.
"Well if we're not speculating then we are planning." Blaise announced, locking his gaze onto Harry's pointedly. "I'm going to tell the whole school. You know I have to." He sniffed dryly like that was obvious, which yeah, it kind of was. "But since I've been cornered into a deal then how would you like me to tell everyone?"
Harry sat back in his chair at gave that direct question some last minute consideration. He had been thinking about it on and off, even when he was procrastinating he couldn't exactly shake off this looming event of the whole school learning about his ability. He knew what he wanted, he just only had a vague outline of how to actually go about getting it—and maybe he should let Blaise have some creative license in how he went about doing it then and just leave the details to him. He was a gossip whore after all, he was probably a craftsman of his words and his dealings, so if anyone could do this, it'd be him.
He just had to convince Blaise to want to do it first.
"Alright," he agreed and they gave him their attention in interest to what he was going to decide on. "You can tell whoever you like, but you need to phrase it like it's a good thing."
He announced it plainly, and the three Slytherins exchanged looks again, some which were too subtle for even Harry to gleam much from. He did, however, already kind of guess where their minds would've wandered after this discussion and this blunt declaration.
"Look, not that I care about your feelings but… hm, how to say this delicately?" Blaise drawled rather sardonically, but he actually did hesitate as if trying to figure out his words. Harry rolled his eyes and spared him the trouble.
"Let me guess, if the dark lord does come back, given we're on blatantly opposing sides for obvious reasons, you're not going to side with me or him. Am I anywhere close?"
All three of them stared at him, openly. Lord knows what Draco and Theo were thinking though as their poker faces were firmly back in place, but Blaise blinked several times rapidly.
"Oh. Well… okay then, so long as you already know." He shrugged, gesturing for him to continue.
"Yeah, I know." He sighed a tad morosely.
It was certainly a grim thought, but one he'd first recognized and developed very early into his first year at Hogwarts when he was more actively focused on infiltrating the Slytherin table. He could read the writing on the wall—he wasn't an idiot who thought that anything he'd done with the Slytherins so far would've been possible if the Dark Lord, AKA his blatant enemy, was still around(because there was no way around that solid fact Voldemort wanted him fucking dead and Harry was not even going to pretend for a second the feeling wasn't absolutely mutual).
Theo was a great example—he was here to survive, no matter his true opinion on the matter. Blaise was untouchable, but that didn't make his logic any less Slytherin. If it came down to choosing sides in another all-out war where Harry was clearly on one side, with Voldemort on the other and right back in the position of power he used to be over their families… well, Blaise would instantly revert back to true neutral and stay the fuck out of the fight, and the Nott family was well known to be pitch black in alignment. Whatever that meant, Harry hadn't wormed his way into Slytherin house under the assumption he was going to change any of them. They were still Slytherins. Not once had he ever considered or thought them to be different than they were—that was never the point of befriending them.
The only thing he hadn't… truly dedicated any hard time or effort into confronting mentally, was Draco.
He… couldn't think about Draco, in this hypothetical situation. He was too terrified of asking and finding out the answer. Or, simply terrified that his answer might be I don't know.
He didn't know what the worst option of the two would be either.
He shoved those thoughts aside quickly and pointedly kept his gaze on Blaise instead of drifting to the side to even catch a glimpse at what Draco's reaction to this conversation was.
"I'm sure most people who matter would be able to figure that out too. But you're a self-proclaimed gossip whore and I'm your self-proclaimed friend. It would make sense you'd be thrilled to have a new source of potential gossip, right?"
Blaise pressed his lips together unhappily.
"I guess."
"And you've never denied you only stooped to talking to me because I was interesting. This makes me more interesting, right?"
"I guess…" He grudgingly admitted, but Harry could tell he was being swayed slightly.
"You would have every reason to tell Slytherin house that it's a good thing because I'm on your side so if they play nice to the two of us it can be for their benefit—I can now find out their secrets and if I'm your friend, that means you can too which would obviously make you happy. And to anyone outside of Slytherin you can simply phrase it like it's interesting, not that big of a deal. That it would only make sense for The Boy Who Lived to have an ability that would match the dark lord."
"You hate being called that though." Draco chimed in, like Harry didn't already very much know that.
"But I'm not stupid enough to think everyone else doesn't call me that behind my back anyway."
"Playing to their expectations… Gryffindor and Hufflepuff would fall for it easily." Theo acknowledged, also grudgingly impressed it seemed.
"And Ravenclaw would be too analytical about how it's even possible to be too angry or impressed either way. And I'm totally okay with neutral in this situation." He raised his hands as if washing himself of this ordeal, and Blaise crossed his arms over his chest in a pout as he mulled the offer over.
After several seconds he seemed to come to his conclusion.
"Okay, you have me mostly convinced. Just one last thing."
"Oh?"
"Are you on my side? Because if that's not a lie, all the better."
Harry gave a wicked grin as he scoffed the question off. "Like I said, I'm a Gryffindor and you're my friend—your opinion on the matter be damned. I will hold you accountable on most things as good friends should and no I will not let you steam roll me because I now know exactly who you are and what you'll do if I'm not on my toes… but yes, I am biased towards friends, so I'm on your side Blaise."
The tall Slytherin was instantly on his feet and clapped his hands together loudly, enough that several others glanced over at the sudden intrusion into their muffled bubbles.
"Well, that settles that! Time to go tell everyone!" He was loud enough and also uncaring enough that there was no way the whole common room hadn't heard that, and also no way they didn't see the mild glare he shot down at Harry before he went. "I know I promised but waiting this long has been killing me."
"I'm sure," He snickered, and then laughed loudly as Blaise all but skipped away and plopped himself just across the room for his first target. Some seventh years from what Harry could see, and he tried not to let what he knew they were talking about get to him, forcibly shaking it off and turning to Theo as the bookworm piped up.
"I'm not sure that's wise." He didn't sound objecting, but simply rather sage. And yeah, admitting friendship to Blaise Zabini was probably not the best of his life choices so far, but for once it was an honest one he couldn't precisely regret.
"Gryffindors aren't typically known for putting wisdom over emotions, and I am one of those since a lot of people keep forgetting." He pointed out.
Theo gave a brief, but visible smile.
"Fair." He allowed.
Whether they were going to talk politics some more or move topics, Draco's stomach took that moment to growl loud enough that they both heard. Looking at the blond though he was staring at the ceiling, ears deep pink in embarrassment.
It was a good reminder though that Harry hadn't eaten anything today either—and Draco had gone to quidditch try outs so he was probably in even worse shape. Although, he wasn't sure how many calories a goblin ritual burned but was willing to bet a lot probably.
"Lunch?"
"Please."
000
The day had been long, but it wasn't over yet as Harry finally escaped and wearily climbed his way up to Gryffindor tower. He was so tired, he was sad to realize he hadn't even noticed when his serpensortia friend had vanished from around his neck, but he was also far too tired to even make a mental note to get Draco to teach him that spell ASAP. He's make more concrete plans later, when he had the mental capacity for something like that.
His lunch had been exceptionally late and so instead of attending dinner he was going to use the rare blissfully sweet silence of an empty lion's den to collect his thoughts, and then go to bed early. Maybe he'd start tomorrow fresh like today had never happened.
He also wasn't avoiding the first large gathering where he knew the new rumor of his language abilities would undoubtedly spread like wildfire. The only person he owed a real explanation to, not just having him hear it from a rumor, was Neville. He vowed to wake the boy up early tomorrow morning and clear the air before the rumors got too bad but before Blaise got a some reigns around the rumor mill itself—but tonight he was just too tired to do anything.
A lot had happened, and his mind was buzzing. As the several very important things of equal criticality he'd learned of today were just too much for him right now, his mind settled on one of the quieter, less important things he'd noticed after his conversation about Ancient and Noble houses as he sat at his desk and tiredly brought out a piece of parchment and a quill.
Either they hadn't noticed or simply didn't bring it up as being slightly irrelevant to the conversation at hand, but Harry had pulled a rather important piece of information from his mini-lesson there about Ancient and Noble houses.
He'd inherited the Monroe family magic, he could prove that with his blood test this morning. The requirements for inheriting magic from and Ancient and Noble house were to commit and act of magical vengeance or victory against the person who'd wiped them out. Obviously Voldemort had been the perpetrator, and obviously Harry had, somehow, gotten vengeance over him. Killed him or simply reduced him to that ghost… that apparently counted.
And that meant… it was a magicalact that had killed Voldemort that night. Not a fluke, not an accident—Harry's own magic had to have done something. Or his father even, as the only other person with Noble blood in the house that night… but he didn't think so. He'd have to check, but it sounded from the way Draco phrased it that he inherited the magic… and if James Potter had performed some magic that killed the Dark Lord, Harry wouldn't have inherited the Monroe family magic since he was already alive, but maybe his kids would've instead. The Potter name wasn't Ancient and Noble that night, none of James Potter's magic could be willed to his son outside of what he'd given him as his biological father.
Conclusion: Harry Potter had done something with his own magic to kill Voldemort that night.
As for what the hell it was he'd done… that was still as much of a mystery as ever.
But still. He never really considered much on what had happened that night… he was still an orphan, and he was still an orphan who had a ton of problems on his plate and had since pretty much the day he learned his parents hadn't died in a car accident after all. He understood that the mystery of it all was also part of his fame and intrigue—but most of the time he tried hard to pretend his fame and intrigue didn't exist so he never spent much time pondering over the fact not even he knew the truth about that night.
He still didn't think it was worth that much brain power, honestly. As previously mentioned, he was still an orphan and he was still an orphan with a lot more pressing problems and knowing the truth of that night will not change a thing about his current situation. I
But still.
It wasn't like it was unimportant so he quietly filed this new information away, to ponder over another day.
Today though, he had different plans in mind to occupy his evening before crashing for the night. And then afterwards, he was going to sleep a full night with as many dreamless sleep potions as he could, and then drag Neville out into the quidditch pitch for a full day of football, Gryffindors, and absolutely no more snakes, bloodline talk, or politics until Monday.
He just had one thing to write, before it could slip his mind yet again.
000
Dear Mr. Lupin,
Someone I reasonably trust told me that you were once a friend of my parents, and I thought I'd say hello. So, hello.
I'd love to hear more about my parents if you have the time to tell me, and more about yourself. Also, that person I reasonably trust says you're mostly in the muggle world, and I was kind of curious about how a wizard went about doing that. Actually getting a job in the wizarding world doesn't seem like too much fun the more I think about it so that might be an option.
My owl's name is Hedwig--feed her treats and she won't bite you.
I look forward to hearing back,
Harry Potter-Monroe.