It was whispered that the Dark Lord’s eyes glowed red, but Harry Potter’s were green. Not Slytherin green like the tie he wore, but a very particular shade of green as if his body had absorbed the killing curse meant to end his life.
Slytherin was a House divided. Nobody knew who to support, the Dark Lord meant to offer them salvation, or the boy who was becoming Slytherin’s greatest hero since Voldemort had been vanquished the first time. The Dark Lord offered power, Harry offered acceptance. The school had cheered for their champion during the Triwizard Tournament. It was a Slytherin who had resealed the Chamber of Secrets and slain the basilisk. It was a Slytherin who was favored even by the Headmaster and the Head of Gryffindor. And their parents expected them to kill him.
Well, not everybody was so indecisive. Everyone had known from the jump exactly where she would land. Bare months after Harry had loudly proclaimed Voldemort was not in fact dead, Cyrus and Cylenthene had announced the betrothal of their eldest to Harry, signaling exactly where they stood as well. Of course Daphne’s bastard sister Tracey would stand by her friends. Theodore and Blaise were recently estranged from their parents for reasons not publicly given.
Harry sat in the loveseat generally considered the softest (nobody had any actual clue if it was softer than the others, it was just thought of that way) with Daphne and surveyed his classmates. Some didn’t meet his gaze, others were hesitant, a couple glared back defiantly. Daphne snuggled into his side. “I’m cold.”
Harry kissed the top of her head and cast a warming charm, knowing full well she could do it herself.
He watched as Draco marched over, his face twisting between determination and fear. There, in the middle of the common room, he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the dark mark.
Most people, especially the younger years, gasped and backed away. Others followed suit as they saw what was causing the commotion. Others drew their wands, unsure of who to curse. Blaise stood behind Draco, his wand pointed at the Malfoy’s scion’s back. Tracey, who had just entered the common room, rushed over. Draco took no notice of any of it.
“He wants me to kill Dumbledore.” Somebody screamed, and more wands were drawn. Harry didn’t move.
“What do you want?”
Now Draco’s eyes were darting around, taking in the room. He was hyper aware of Blaise’s wand behind him. “My father told me to follow his orders.”
“What do you want?”
Crabbe and Goyle were standing back uselessly, unwilling to incur the wrath of Harry Potter. Draco took several long seconds to answer. “I don’t like you Potter,” he finally said. “But I don’t hate you. He has ruined my family.” He spat into the plush carpet.”
It was Daphne who answered. “Don’t worry Draco, the feelings are mutual.”
“Fawkes!” Harry called. In a rush of flame, the phoenix appeared. Somebody yelled again at the sudden appearance of a legendary creature. “Tell the Headmaster Draco wishes to speak with him.” Fawkes trilled and disappeared as quickly as he had come.
“I-I do?” Draco said.
Harry ignored that. “Do you know where the Headmaster’s office is?” Draco nodded. “Then go now. Speak to him.”
Now Draco’s face was entirely filled with fear, but he nodded and left.
Eventually Voldemort got desperate enough to assault the castle. In the rubble, Theodore was found cradling his mother’s corpse while sobbing. She was nearly bisected at the waist where his curse had hit her. Pansy’s father was led away to be tried for; among other things, the murder of his daughter. Crabbe Sr. and Goyle Jr. had hit each other with killing curses at the same time.
In the end, they all had to decide.