Chapter Six
It was the first weekend at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the atmosphere was exciting. Agatha and Monty strolled through the ancient stone corridors, their laughter echoing off the walls as they exchanged jokes and shared stories of their summer adventures. Turning a corner near the grand staircase, they spotted three fifth-year Slytherin students loitering menacingly by the portraits.
Monty's amused demeanor shifted as he focused on the scene unfolding before them. One of the Slytherins, tall and brash with an unruly mop of dark hair, shoved a more petite figure to the ground. Monty recognized the victim as Chaz Grendel, a first-year Ravenclaw with strikingly bright blue eyes that seemed to flicker with both hurt and defiance.
Without hesitation, Monty charged forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Chaz, struggling to regain his footing with Agatha's assistance. "What do you think you're doing?!" Monty exclaimed, his voice firm and unwavering. "It's utterly rude to bully other students!"
"Look at him! He doesn't belong in this school!" one of the older boys sneered, jabbing a finger toward Chaz, who was finally back on his feet, though still shaken. His robes were slightly rumpled, and he brushed off the dust while casting anxious glances around.
Agatha positioned herself beside Monty, her brow furrowed in determination. "Everyone deserves to be here," she asserted, her voice steady as she reached out to support Chaz.
"Why are you helping him?" the second Slytherin snapped, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You two are Slytherins, even though you, Potter, shouldn't be since you're a half-blood!" His tone dripped with disdain, stinging Monty's ears.
Though confronted by their taunts, Monty stood tall, not allowing the comments to undermine his resolve. He sensed Chaz's fear and a glimmer of gratitude in his bewildered gaze. The confrontation escalated, but the solidarity between him, Agatha, and Chaz began to form a brave barrier against the bullying. Hogwarts's spirited camaraderie was about to be tested, and Monty was prepared to defend what was right.
Monty clenched his fists tightly, his heart pounding with frustration as he narrowed his eyes in seething anger. A trio of students nearby erupted in laughter, their voices ringing out like mocking bells until they caught the fiery glare Monty directed at them. The humor drained from their faces, replaced by unease as they slowly fell silent, their eyes darting nervously from Monty to each other. If looks could kill, the glare he cast upon them was lethal enough to eliminate the trio on the spot.
Realizing the moment's gravity, the boys shuffled backward, their confidence evaporating, before they turned abruptly and sprinted away, their footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet corridor. Monty let out a long sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing as he finally unclenched his fists. He turned to glance at Chaz and Agatha, who were watching him with varying expressions—Chaz with concern and Agatha with a smirk that suggested she found the whole encounter rather amusing.
The three first-year students stood quietly in the hall. Monty was the first to break the silence, glancing at Chaz with concern in his hazel eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked gently.
Chaz nodded, though a shadow flickered across his face. "Yes. You didn't have to do that, you know," he replied, still feeling the sting of the earlier encounter with the older students.
"Yes, I did," Monty insisted, his tone earnest. "I know Agatha and I are only eleven, and I'm guessing you're the same age. But those older students—those fifth or sixth years—think they can bully others just because they're Slytherins. Agatha and I may be Slytherins too, but that doesn't mean we're going to treat anyone poorly," he stated with a serious expression that belied his young age.
"Oh, and Monty is far too mature to bully anyone," said Agatha with a playful smile, her brown hair bouncing slightly as she spoke.
"Why is that?" asked Chaz, intrigued.
Monty waved his hand dismissively, shrugging off the question for now. "That's not important at the moment. We should definitely go talk to your Head of House. You are a Ravenclaw, right?"
"Yes, I'm a Ravenclaw," Chaz confirmed, his voice steadying a bit. "You might have heard my name when I was called to be sorted into a house. If you didn't catch it, my name is Chaz Grendel. And you are?"
"I'm Fleamont Potter II; please call me Monty. And this is Agatha Sallow," Monty introduced himself and Agatha as they began to walk through the hall, navigating around other students who were animatedly discussing their classes and the latest Quidditch matches. "So, how are you liking Hogwarts so far?"
"I liked it until today because of those three students," Chaz replied, his gaze drifting down at this food.
"You have nothing to worry about now, Chaz," Agatha reassured him, her warm smile brightening her face. "You will be under Monty's protection. He's got your back."
"How? Aren't you just eleven like me, Monty?" Chaz questioned, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
"As I said before, I'm more mature than some of our older classmates," Monty replied, a determined glint in his eyes as he squared his shoulders. He was unwavering, ready to stand up for his new friend.
Monty, Agatha, and Chaz strolled down the dimly lit corridor of Hogwarts, their footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone walls. They approached the door to Professor Flitwick's Charms classroom, curiosity and concern mingling in their expressions. As they peeked inside, they spotted the tiny Professor seated at his cluttered desk, surrounded by scrolls of parchment and an array of sparkling charms. He was intently grading homework, his quill dancing across the parchment with practiced ease.
The three first-year students exchanged glances before making their way to the front of the room. Professor Flitwick looked up, his round glasses glinting in the warm light of the classroom. A welcoming smile spread across his face as he recognized them.
"Hello, Mr. Potter, Ms. Sallow, and Mr. Grendel," Professor Flitwick greeted them cheerfully, his voice warm and encouraging. "How can I assist you today?"
Shifting nervously from one foot to the other, Monty gestured toward Chaz, who stood anxiously beside him. "Well, sir," Monty began, his voice steady despite the emotion tugging at him, "I know both Agatha and I are Slytherins, but we're worried about Chaz. We found him getting bullied by three fifth-year Slytherins, and it's really upsetting. We thought you could do something about it since you are Chaz's head of house."
Agatha stepped forward, her brow furrowed in determination. "It's not fair, Professor. We see how they pick on him, but it feels like no one is standing up for him. We thought you might have some ideas on how to handle it." Chaz shifted uncomfortably, looking down at the floor, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The atmosphere in the room shifted as Flitwick's expression turned serious, his small stature exuding an unexpected authority as he took in their plea.
The smile that usually illuminated Professor Flitwick's features gradually faded, replaced by a deep concern that etched worry lines across his forehead. With a gentle yet heavy-hearted tone, he replied, "I truly wish I could offer more assistance, but unfortunately, my hands are tied by the complex dynamics of our school." He shifted in his chair, his fingers nervously tapping on the table. "Regrettably, I have witnessed Slytherin students bully their peers on numerous occasions—each incident unfolding like a dark cloud over our Hogwarts community, often in plain sight of classmates who felt powerless to intervene. Despite the distress and fear this behavior instills in other students, Headmaster Dumbledore consistently opts for inaction, choosing instead to view these Slytherins as children merely making typical mistakes of youth. His unwavering belief in redemption often leaves victims feeling abandoned. Professor Snape, fiercely loyal to his house, echoes Dumbledore's perspective with an implacable defense of his students, even as the rest of the faculty members express their unease and disagreement over the troubling situation. I truly wish I could do more to help," Flitwick continued, his eyes conveying a deep frustration and sadness. "I'm afraid my options are limited within the constraints of our school's policies and the prevailing attitudes toward these incidents." His gaze drifted momentarily, haunted by memories of helpless students who had reached out for support but found only silence in the halls of Hogwarts.
Monty clenched his fists tightly, his anger simmering beneath the surface before storming out of the Charms classroom. His two friends, Agatha and Chaz, exchanged worried glances and quickly followed him into the bustling corridor, determined to catch up.
"Monty! It's fine!" Chaz called out, his voice a mix of concern and urgency.
Monty halted mid-stride, spinning around to face Chaz with narrowed eyes that reflected his frustration. "It's not fine! It feels like none of the professors care about the students! I refuse to stand by while the headmaster ignores the bullying! I can't let my siblings step foot in a school where they'll be tormented!"
With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his dark red hair, visibly trying to calm the storm within. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, Chaz. It's just… I've been deeply worried about my siblings ever since our parents died."
"W-what?!" Chaz stuttered, taken aback by the gravity of Monty's words. "Your parents are no longer around?"
Monty's expression softened slightly, a blend of sadness and determination crossing his face as he began to walk again, Agatha and Chaz closely in tow. "My brother is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived," he revealed, his voice low but steady. "My parents—Lily and James Potter—were killed four years ago. Since that day, I've had to step up. I took my siblings, and we ran from everything we knew. For the past four years, I've been raising them independently."
His voice hardened again as he continued, "That's why I've had to mature faster than most kids my age. While my peers are out playing and living carefree, I've been worried about keeping my siblings safe and providing for them. I didn't want to come to Hogwarts because I feared leaving them behind, but I thought it would be better for their future. Thankfully, our two neighbors—Mr. Sallow and Mr. Gaunt—are looking after them while I'm here. But even with their help, my siblings always come to me when something goes wrong. Now that they're at Hogwarts, I see it's the same place where I was tormented, and the professors do nothing to stop it. I will protect them against the bullies and won't just sit back and be nice about it." His voice was fierce, filled with the unyielding resolve of a brother determined to keep his family safe.
Monty sat stiffly in the headmaster's office, the weight of the moment heavy in the air. Professor Snape, tall and imposing with his black robes flowing around him, lingered at the side, his expression a mix of disapproval and curiosity. Behind the polished mahogany desk, Headmaster Dumbledore regarded Monty with kindness and concern. The ornate office, filled with countless trinkets and books lined with books, felt comforting and intimidating.
"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began gently, his blue eyes twinkling beneath his half-moon spectacles, "Everyone was so worried about you and your siblings. I find it strange that Professor McGonagall didn't inform me of your whereabouts, especially since you're meant to be with your Aunt Petunia during these troubling times."
Monty's eyes narrowed, a spark of defiance igniting within him. "I don't think it's your concern, sir. If this meeting has nothing to do with my schooling, can I please return to my common room?" His voice was resolute, laced with the lingering tension of recent events.
As Dumbledore opened his mouth to continue, Monty swiftly interrupted, "No, you're not going to lecture me on my responsibilities. I'm not going to divulge how I know that. Again, I am leaving if this meeting strays from my education. Have a good day." With that, he rose abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor, and stepped out of the office, leaving two quiet figures behind him.
Once Monty was gone, a heavy silence filled the room. Snape quickly glanced at Dumbledore, the tension in the air palpable. "Do you want me to force him to return?" he asked, though the words were almost reluctant on his tongue.
"No, Severus, that's not necessary," Dumbledore sighed, his gaze thoughtful as he surveyed the door Monty had just exited. "We need him to trust us. I believe that once he perceives us as allies, he will open up. Only then can we ensure the safety of the Potter siblings with Petunia." His voice was calm, yet his words had an underlying urgency.
Though Snape wanted to voice his concerns, he remained silent. Deep down, he couldn't shake off his distaste for Fleamont Potter. The boy bore an uncanny resemblance to his father, James, except for the distinct dark red hair inherited from Lily—a color that stirred conflicting memories within Snape. Whispers among his Slytherin students hinted at arrogance in Fleamont, with tales of him resorting to intimidation. Snape found these stories dubious, yet skepticism about the boy lingered.
Nevertheless, Snape was unwavering in his belief that Petunia would not care for Lily's children. The idea of leaving them in her unsteady hands filled him with dread. He maintained a watchful eye on Fleamont, knowing that his actions were not just for the boy's benefit but also as part of a larger redemption arc—seeking forgiveness from Lily in spirit, a friend he had failed to protect. The stakes were high, and Snape was determined to ensure that her legacy and everything she cherished would not perish under Petunia's care.