Chapter 8
Harry frowned. "Ron, it's not safe to drive a flying car. You don't know how it works, and the Invisibility Booster might fail."
"But we can use magic in emergencies!"
"I'll send Hedwig to school, telling them what's going on," Harry insisted. "Then we'll tell a Muggle conductor that we got separated from your parents, so we have an adult to protect us."
Ron huffed but agreed. A few minutes later, the two of them were waiting in an office, a couple of biscuits in hand.
Molly and Arthur Weasley showed up ten minutes later, alarmed. "Harry, Ron, thank goodness!" Molly exclaimed, and Harry flinched a little at the sudden, loud noise. "Are you all right?"
"We're fine, Mum!" Ron complained. The conductor chuckled and left the room.
"Where's Hedwig?" Arthur asked Harry gently. He'd noticed Harry's discomfort at loud noises.
"I sent her to Professor McGonagall with a letter," Harry replied. "The barrier shut itself on us, and we couldn't get through."
The adults looked startled. "That's never happened before," Molly said with a frown.
"I think it was the house-elf that was stealing my letters," said Harry.
"Well, it's good that you wrote a letter instead of, Merlin forbid, drove the Anglia to school!" Molly exclaimed, and Harry twitched.
"Molly, why don't you take Ron to the car?" Arthur suggested. "I'll follow with Harry. We can wait for Albus to send someone."
When Ron and Molly were gone, Arthur said softly, "Harry, if you hate noise so much, why do you stay in Gryffindor?"
"Because the only other House the hat mentioned was Slytherin," Harry replied tiredly, "and I don't want to be nearer to Draco Malfoy than I have to be."
The man was alarmed at the fear Harry was trying to hide, but Harry didn't notice.
To both Ron's and Harry's dismay, it was Snape who came to pick them up.
"I am surprised neither of you tried something reckless and idiotic," he sneered as a pair of house-elves took their luggage. "For once, you've done the right thing."
They arrived at school several hours before the feast, so Harry decided to use it to read his first year potions book. He certainly wasn't going to read Lockhart's books.
To Harry's alarm, Lockhart came into the room with a smile.
"Harry, Harry, Harry," he laughed. "I know fame must be tempting, especially after being on the front page with me. Lying about something to get attention won't get you anywhere."
Harry snapped.
"Why the fuck do you think I want fame? I became famous because my parents DIED and I DIDN'T! Before I came to Hogwarts, being the center of attention meant I was in PAIN. Now being in the center of attention means I have to be what other people expect me to be, or I will be in pain AGAIN. Reminding me that I'm famous just reminds me that I'm a bloody orphan! Fuck! Off!"
He stormed out of the room, leaving an alarmed Ron and a gaping Lockhart behind.
Harry was alone again. He wanted some peace and quiet, and Gryffindor was neither of those.
He was sitting in an abandoned corridor, writing his potions essay, when someone spoke.
"Potter?"
He jumped and whipped out his wand, panicking. The handsome black boy rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, Potter. You're holding your quill wrong," he added lazily.
Harry blinked. "You're Blaise Zabini. You're in Slytherin, in Malfoy's year."
Zabini cocked his head. "You're not angry. I thought you didn't like us little snakes."
Snorting, Harry said, "The only Slytherins I even slightly dislike are Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. I don't have a problem with children."
The boy sneered. "You're one of the few." He sat down next to Harry. "Let me show you how to hold a quill properly."
"No one told me I was doing it wrong," Harry sighed as he handed over the quill.
"It's difficult for them to tell, your fingers healed wrong," Zabini said sleekly as he held the quill lightly with his pointer finger, middle finger, and thumb.
Harry froze. "How..."
Zabini leveled him with a look of dark understanding. "My step-fathers were bastards, too." He held up the quill. "This is how you hold it. It'll be painful, unless you want me to fix your fingers for you. My mother taught me."
After a long pause, Harry held out his hands. Zabini put the quill on Harry's lap and flicked his wand at the fingers on his left hand. "Episkey!"
Crack! "Ow!"
Harry blinked. His left hand didn't feel so uncomfortable anymore.
"Episkey!" Zabini cast again, this time on Harry's right hand.
Crack!
"Fuck!"
Zabini snickered and pocketed his wand. "I know an eye-correction spell, too."
"I'm expected to look like my father," Harry said sourly. "Maybe after seventh year is over."
"That's a rather Slytherin response," Zabini said lazily and Harry picked up his quill again. "Most Gryffindors don't have any self-preservation skills."
Harry smirked. "I was supposed to be in Slytherin, but Malfoy kind of terrifies me." He missed Zabini's alarmed look as Harry went back to writing. He paused. "Could you tutor me in Potions? I really like the subject, but Snape's, uh, not very nice to me and I want to fix my potions after Malfoy throws random ingredients in my cauldron."
Zabini muttered something under his breath in exasperation. Then he said, "Sure, Potter."
"You can call me Harry, as long as we're not around other people," Harry said resignedly. "I don't want the Gryffindors to hate me."
"Blaise, then."
"So, you're a Parselmouth," Blaise drawled the next time Harry could meet him alone.
"What kind of hello is that?" Harry complained.
"Hello," Blaise said lazily. "So?"
"I didn't know what a Parselmouth was until today," Harry said. "Why the fuck is a language considered evil?"
"Wixen are high when they ban things," Blaise shrugged.
"'Wixen?'"
"Non-binary term for 'wizard.'"
"Huh," Harry hummed. "And I figured they were high, we're sorted by a talking hat."
Blaise cackled.
"You don't think I'm the Heir of Slytherin," Harry guessed.
"People forget that there were hundreds of Parselmouths even in Salazar Slytherin's time," Blaise sneered. "You could be descended from any one of them. Since neither of your parents spoke Parseltongue, I think it's through your mother."
"Wait, what?"
"Muggleborns are descended from Squibs," Blaise explained. "They don't have enough magic built up to access any family magics from said Squib, but half-bloods do, and since half-bloods are never the product of incest, they're always the most powerful wixen in the world."
Harry opened and closed his mouth in surprise. "Does that mean Dumbledore and Vol- er, You-Know-Who are half-bloods?"
Blaise eyed him. "Do you know why those on the Dark side don't call him by his title?"
Slowly, Harry replied, "I thought it was because they're scared of him, but it's more than that, isn't it?"
"Dark Lords," Blaise said serenely, "are chosen by Lady Magic to bring balance to magic and equality to wixen. They're supposed to fight for 'Dark' creature rights."
"But all You-Know-Who did was murder and chaos," Harry said blankly.
"He wasn't always like that," Blaise corrected. "Over time, he became more insane and unstable. I think he did something to mess with one of the pillars."
"Er... what?" Harry asked.
"Bloody Hogwarts education," Blaise complained. "This is important! First years should learn it!" With a sigh, he said, "The three pillars are soul, mind, and core. They are the essence of who you are.
"Your soul is your genetics. Your parents were good at Defense and Charms, so it's likely that you will be, too.
"Your mind refers to both emotions, like morals, and mental state," Blaise stated. "Most wixen don't realize that mental disorders also effect your magic, because a lot of them don't know they exist and/or can effect wixen.
"Your core is the affinity of your magic. If you have a Dark core, you feel more comfortable casting Dark magic. If you have a Light core, you feel more comfortable casting Light magic. Neutral wixen can cast either Light or Dark magic, but also neutral magic. Most wixen's cores start out neutral and change depending on both genetics and which magic your morals lean towards.
"Light magic refers to magic of the mind. You need to concentrate on your thoughts. Transfiguration and Charms are Light magic.
"Dark magic refers to magic of the heart. You need to concentrate on your emotions. Soul Magic and Death Magic are Dark magic. Dark magic is the hardest to control, because emotions are hard to control, so the Ministry banned most Dark magic.
"Neutral magic is a mix of both. There are few Neutral magic spells, like the Patronus Charm, so they're usually legal."
"Why isn't that taught at Hogwarts?" Harry demanded. "That was really helpful!"
"I don't know," Blaise sighed. "Anything involving Dark magic was removed from Hogwarts education, even though the Fidelius Charm is used a lot, and it's Soul Magic."
"What's the Fidelius Charm?"
Blaise blinked. "You were raised by magic-hating Muggles, weren't you?"
Harry didn't respond to that.
"The Fidelius Charm projects a sort of... magical blanket of security over a house," Blaise said slowly, "making it invisible to passers-by. The address is given to a Secret-Keeper, and once the charm is cast, everyone but the Secret-Keeper forgets about the address. Only the Secret-Keeper can then give out the address. It's one of the safest known protective wards.
"The only way a Fidelius Charm can work is if everyone involved in the ritual trusts each other," Blaise said. "If there is the slightest bit of distrust with any of them, the charm won't work. If any distrust forms between them afterward, the charm will fail after a few days.
"Your parents used the Fidelius Charm to hide from the Dark Lord," Blaise added quietly. Harry's eyes widened. "Most people believe their friend, Sirius Black, was the Secret-Keeper. But if he were, the charm would have failed months before they were killed. Anyone who knows how Fidelius Charms actually work think Black is innocent."
"I don't know who that is," Harry said honestly. "Before my eleventh birthday, I thought my parents died in a car crash."
Blaise looked slightly infuriated. "What?"
Harry glanced at his watch and yelped. "Thanks for the lesson, I have to meet Hermione and Ron in the girls' bathroom-"
"What? Potter, get back here and explain that!"
"You and Weasley were disguised as Crabbe and Goyle," Blaise said in greeting when he sat down.
Harry sighed irritably. "Is this how you're going to greet me every time?"
Blaise smirked in response.
"Slytherins," Harry complained good-naturedly. "Yeah, we were. Ron and Hermione thought Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin."
"Hah!" Blaise barked. "If he were, he wouldn't shut up about it!"
"That's not very Slytherin of him," Harry snickered.
"He has some Gryffindor recklessness in him, but no one's stupid enough to tell him that," Blaise snorted.
"Ron and Hermione seem to have forgotten that Malfoy doesn't speak Parseltongue," Harry added. "I think the Heir has to speak Parseltongue in order to open the Chamber of Secrets. Why else has no one found it yet?"
Blaise nodded thoughtfully. "That makes a lot of sense."
"And I think Slytherin's monster is a type of magical snake," Harry added. "Snakes are always worshipful of Parselmouths -- or treat them like their bloody hatchlings," Harry snorted.
"Explain."
"I may or may not have accidentally set a boa constrictor on my Muggle cousin..."
"Harry, what happened in the Chamber?" Blaise demanded.
"Not what I told the headmaster or Ginny," Harry said dryly. Blaise was startled at that. "I told Ron and Hermione, but they think Dumbledore also knows."
Blaise stared at him, demanding an explanation.
So Harry told him. He started with finding the diary and writing in it ("Are you bloody stupid, Potter?! Don't trust anything that hides its brain!"), talked about Hermione's discovery ("A Basilisk, of course! Why were there only Petrified victims?"), and ended with Lythiae pretending to be dead as Ginny woke up.
"You have a pet Basilisk," Blaise said blankly.
"She's not my pet, she's my friend," Harry insisted. "I'd introduce you, but I need our friendship to be a secret."
Blaise was startled. "You consider me a friend?"
Harry frowned. "Of course I do. I don't use any masks with you, except about..."
The boy realized he was talking about his home-life and nodded. "You don't need to keep that mask on, though," Blaise drawled, "because everyone with the same mask can see through it anyway."
"Oh, your step-fathers were those kinds of jackasses," Harry said with a wince. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.
"Thanks," Blaise said quietly. "If you need rescuing from the bastards, my mother can help you."
"I can't," Harry said resignedly. "My mother did some sort of ritual to stop You-Know-Who from killing me, and the only thing protecting me from him now is apparently living with her sister."
Blaise stared at him incredulously. "The only kind of magic that lasts after a person is dead is a life-for-life sacrifice-"
"I didn't believe it anyway, Blaise," Harry assured him. "I doubt anyone would keep me under that protection if I was... unhappy, but Dumbledore doesn't care. I didn't tell him everything, just the gist."
"And he still sent you back?" Blaise asked, outraged.
"He said it was just a misunderstanding," Harry sneered. "'I'm sure they love you.' And he started guilting me into staying. I don't trust him with my welfare."
"But you trust him with most other things," Blaise guessed.
"He's Dumbledore," Harry pointed out. Blaise nodded resignedly. "Do you know where I can research Parseltongue? There aren't any books about it in Hogwarts library."
"I can bring some next year," Blaise said automatically. "Anything else?"
"Um... could you tutor me in every other subject, too?" Harry asked sheepishly. "I want to be better. Although I don't want to be better than Hermione, she works really hard and I want her to feel special. Also I don't like being the center of attention, and I don't want teachers to expect amazing grades out of me."
Blaise made a face. "I don't like the teachers' attitudes about that, either. Most Slytherins study really hard, but make sure to only get good enough grades to pass but not Outstandings. Lucius Malfoy wants his son to be the best at everything, so... Sure, I'll tutor you. Do you care about History of Magic?"
"I still don't know why the Board lets a bloody ghost teach," Harry grumbled. "Not the class material, but just in general. Do you have any books about the history of Dark Lords, or Dark magic or whatever?"
"Yes, I have books about Dark Lords, or Dark magic, or whatever," Blaise deadpanned. Harry smacked him lightly.
"You know what I meant!"