Harry Silver

Harry yawned as he shovelled porridge into his mouth, “I miss having my own bedroom, now I have to listen to Blaise’s snoring again.”

“I reject all accusations of snoring,” Blaise said with a slight huff.

“Consider yourselves lucky you don’t have to listen to Pansy drag on about her summer,” Tracey complained as she put eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns and black pudding between two slices of bread.

Blaise chuckled, “Oh believe me, Draco tried but Harry shut him down pretty quickly.”

Harry smirked to himself as he continued to eat. He, Daphne, Blaise and Tracey were relatively early risers compared to most of Hogwarts and the rest of the school was just starting to trickle in for breakfast.

“Good morning everyone!” Came the chipper voice of Astoria, who skipped towards the group, Ginny trailing nervously behind.

Daphne frowned as Astoria took a seat next to her.

“Who said you could sit next to us?”

“The sorting hat,” Astoria replied with a smug grin.

“Morning Ginny,” Harry said with a smile as the redhead took a seat next to him.

Ginny gave him a nervous smile, “Good Morning.”

“So,” Tracey said, ketchup dripping down her chin, “How was your first night in Slytherin?”

“Fine…” Ginny said quietly as she helped herself to some pumpkin juice.

Harry frowned at her, “Did something happen?”

“Someone in our dorms called her a blood traitor,” Astoria said with a scowl.

“Astoria!” Ginny hissed.

“What!?” Harry practically shouted as he got to his feet, “Who was it?”

Before Harry could run off and hex a first year Tracey grabbed his arm and pulled him back down with a surprising amount of strength.

“Calm down Silver, we don’t want you getting detention on the second day.”

“I told you not to say anything,” Ginny groaned.

Astoria shrugged, “My friend was getting bullied, I’m not gonna sit around and let it happen.”

“Who was it?” Daphne asked as she buttered some toast.

“Erin Bluerose.” Astoria said.

Daphne hummed and took a delicate bite out of her toast, “And what did you tell her?”

Astoria smiled, “That the Bluerose’ hadn’t been relevant for over a century and at least the Weasleys were part of the sacred twenty-eight.”

Daphne nodded her approval, “Excellent.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, “I suppose it was better than my plan of punching her.”

“Atta girl,” Harry said and winked at Ginny, causing her to smile and blush.

“Actually I’m not really worried about the other Slytherins, it’s more-”

“Ginny!”

“Him,” Ginny said with a wince.

Blaise sighed, “Can we have one breakfast without some sort of drama?”

The group turned to find a red faced Ron Weasley marching up to them. Harry gulped, he’d been expecting this.

“Hello Ron,” Ginny said with a fake smile.

“Don’t hello Ron me!” Ron snapped and pointed a finger in Ginny's face, “What are you doing at this table!?”

Ginny looked down at her cereal bowl before slowly looking back up at Ron, “Eating breakfast?”

“You know what I mean! What are you doing in Slytherin!?” 

Ginny shrugged, “It’s where the sorting hat said I should go, I actually kind of like it.”

“Like it!?” Ron spluttered, outraged at the prospect, “You’re a Weasley! Weasley’s are Gryffindors!”

“Said who!?” Ginny said, raising her arms in the air, “Slytherin is just as good as Gryffindor!”

If steam were able to come out of Ron’s ears Harry was fairly certain he’d be doing a perfect impression of the express right about now.

“But why on earth would you want to be a slimy snake!?”

By this point most of the Slytherins (and a good chunk of the Ravenclaw’s) were glaring at Ron.

Ginny shot up from her seat, “Maybe because I didn’t want to be in the same house as my moronic brothers!”

With that she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the hall.

“That went well,” Harry said.

Ron turned to him with a furious expression, “This is your fault, you poisoned her mind and-”

“Ron, Ron, Ron.”

“When will you learn not to anger our dear sister?”

Ron’s mouth snapped shut as Fred and George appeared behind him, both placing a hand on his shoulder.

“We don’t know how many times we have to tell you, there’s nothing wrong with Slytherin.” Fred said.

“Besides, do you really want to spend six years sharing a house with our sister? You’d be lucky to survive!” George declared with a shiver.

Ron grunted and shook himself out of the twins grip, “Get off, I’m not scared of you.”

“And what about me?”

Ron went pale as Harry looked behind him to find a very unimpressed looking Snape.

“Detention on the first day Mr Weasley,” Snape said with a click of his tongue, “That may be a new record. Now I suggest you move along before you cause any more distress to my students.”

Ron looked like he wanted to argue but without any backup he quickly made his way back across the hall.

“And what are you two doing here?” Snape asked the twins.

“What?” Fred said.

“We can’t come and say hello to our sister and other Slytherin friends?” George said.

“Yeah!” Fred protested, “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“And if I were to turn out your pockets?” Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well everyone it was wonderful to see you but we must be off!” George said and clapped his hands together before he and Fred fled from the Slytherins.

Harry snorted as Snape handed out everyone’s timetables.

“Miss Greengrass,” he said, handing Astoria two, “Would you please find and pass on your schedules to Miss Weasley?”

“Of course Professor,” Astoria said as she stood up from the table, “I’ll see you guys later!” She said and waved as she ran off.

Snape gave the rest of the group a polite nod before moving on down the table.

Tracey let out a groan as they saw their timetables, “Lockhart first thing? At least we’ll get it over with.”

“You really should show more respect to our teachers,” Daphne tutted as the group grabbed their bags and made their way to the defence classroom.

Most of the Ravenclaws were already waiting when they arrived and Hermione and Daphne quickly fell into conversation about Lockharts supposed feats.

“Do you think he’ll teach us how he defeated the hag of Florence?”

“I doubt it,” Daphne said, “He used runes for that and this is a defence class.”

“Oh I just hope he teaches us the spell he used to defend himself against a Centaur charge.”

“Or the one he used to bring down a Thunderbird.”

The students shuffled inside, Hermione and Daphne took eager seats at the front while Tracey and Blaise sat with the majority of the class in the middle. Harry however was happy to sit by himself as far back as he could, a few empty rows between himself and the rest of the class.

Tragically Lockhart had not died overnight and with a bang his office door opened. The man smiled with his overly white teeth and practically danced down the steps.

“Allow me to introduce myself, not that it’s needed of course, my name is Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin Third Class and quite honestly many other titles that we don’t have time to name.”

For the first time Harry was questioning if it had been worth going back in time.

“Now then, let's get to the register shall we!” Lockhart said and spied Harry at the back of the classroom, “Of course I already know you Mr Gold.”

Harry’s eye twitched, “It’s Silver.”

Lockhart ignored him and completed the register before turning and grabbing a stack of papers, “Now I thought we’d start today with a little quiz, nothing to be concerned about just to make sure you’ve done your reading over the summer. Please take one and pass them on!”

The class handed out the papers with Tracey running to the back of the classroom to give Harry one.

“Now!” Lockhart said, “You have thirty minutes… begin!”

Harry looked down at the quiz in his hand to find it was an exact replica of the first. Harry frowned, he hadn’t appreciated it before but now he knew Dark Forces were at work in the wizarding world and this was how the young generation were being prepared for it? He decided he might as well show his disdain.

• What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?

The white of his teeth

• What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?

Be able to cast an expelliarmus for the first time

• What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?

Managing to bullshit his way into this job

Harry continued to answer the questions like this until he completed the quiz, feeling much better about the lesson than he had when he’d first walked into the classroom. 

Hermione happily collected up the quizzes which Lockhart quickly marked, shaking his head in disappointment.

“What a shame! Only Miss Greengrass and Miss Granger got full marks, it felt like some of you hadn’t even read my books!” Lockhart said with an exaggerated sigh before he walked over to the cloth covered cage on his desk.

“But no matter, let us turn to the lesson at hand! It is my job to teach you how to defend yourself against the evils that lurk within this world and so I must ask you not to scream as it might PROVOKE THEM!”

Lockhart dramatically ripped the cloth off to reveal the cage filled with Cornish Pixies. They rattled on their prison bars and made horrific chirping noises that scratched Harry’s ears.

“Cornish Pixies?” Tracey said as her shoulders sagged, “That’s not very scary.”

“On the contrary Miss Davis, I think you’ll find them quite troublesome!”

Lockhart flicked the cage open and the pixies swarmed out. They immediately started to cause chaos, ripping up books, tearing pictures off the wall and bringing down Lockharts prized (fake) skeleton hanging from his roof. It crashed down to the ground as pixies attacked everything in sight and everyone dived from their chairs.

Lockhart tried to cast a spell but two pixies grabbed his wand and forced him to flee into his office.

Hermione screamed.

Malfoy yelled orders at Grabbe and Goyle.

Harry yawned.

He watched the familiar scene unfold as everyone found their hair pulled and ears tugged. Eventually one of the pixies noticed him at the back and flew towards him. It zig zagged through the air as Harry watched it.

The pixie was fast.

Harry was faster.

Just as it got into range Harry’s hand shot out and plucked the pixie from the air like a deformed blue snitch. The pixie screeched and struggled against him before baring its sharp teeth and biting down on Harry’s thumb.

But Harry, who had suffered beatings, curses and hexes all his life, didn’t even flinch, even as the pixie’s mouth filled with his blood. 

The pixie took one taste of Harry’s blood and reared its head back in horror, spitting the red liquid out. It then looked at Harry with fear, squirming in his hand. Harry smirked and brought it close to his face.

“Boo.”

The pixie let out a terrified cry before forcing itself out of Harry’s grip and flying away from him as fast as it could. It screeched at the other pixies who all started to avoid Harry who sucked the blood out of his thumb. This bliss lasted for a few moments before someone noticed.

“Look! They must be afraid of Silver’s muggle blood! Get to him!” Malfoy cried.

Harry had a wonderful time watching Malfoy sprint full force at him and dive under the desk Harry was sitting at. Meanwhile Grabbe and Goyle both tried their best to waddle over before being tripped up by the pixies and falling to the ground.

“Hello Draco,” Harry said to the terrified boy beneath him, “How are you finding the year so far?”

Sadly Malfoy couldn’t answer because at that moment Hermione was dragged in front of Harry’s desk by her hair. Harry grabbed his hand and flicked it. The pixie grabbing Hermione was sent flying and slammed into a wall.

Hermione regained herself and grabbed her wand, pointing it into the air, “Immobulus!”

The pixies froze in the air, floating steadily like they were in space as their eyes snapped around the room.

Blaise collapsed against the wall, having fought off three pixies, “Well done Hermione.”

Harry smiled as Malfoy pulled himself up from the floor.

“Well,” Harry said, “That was educational.”

Harry was, for the first time in many years, nervous. Oh he’d been terrified plenty of times, depressed, worn out and generally near breaking point too. But the slight twitch of the heart? The winging of your hands? The sort of nerves someone got asking a girl out on a date or giving their parents a bad report card? Those were the sort of nerves Harry thought he had long left behind.

But as he walked down to the quidditch pitch, broom over his shoulder, he felt butterflies in his stomach. Quidditch had always been such a big part of Harry's life and it was one of the few things that had never been tainted by the war. Up in the air Harry always felt free, no Voldemort, no prophecy, just Harry and his broom.

Which was why he was desperate to get on the Slytherin team.

Harry knew he was a good seeker, but he’d never had to actually try out for the position before. He’d ended up with it largely through luck and then had held onto the position for the rest of his Hogwarts years. And loathed as he was to admit it Malfoy was a half decent seeker and assuming his father was once again trying to buy his son's way onto the team Harry wasn’t sure he could get in on skill alone. 

It was the end of the first week of term and an early winter chill had set in, the grass was layered with frost that crunched under Harry’s feet as he made his way to the quidditch pitch, the sun rays desperately trying to make their way through the clouds. 

Next to him Daphne, Blaise and Tracey were all wrapped up warm. Harry of course insisted they didn’t need to come and watch him try out but typically Harry’s words had no effect.

“Muggle clothing is so strange,” Daphne commented as she looked Harry up and down who was wearing a layer of thermals and shorts.

“Better than the bulky quidditch gear everyone else is wearing, works for beaters and keepers sure but chasers and seekers need to be fast.”

“For a muggleborn you sure know a lot about quidditch,” Blaise said.

Harry frowned and opened his mouth.

“Yes you can read,” Blaise said before Harry got a chance, “But I’ve never seen you open a quidditch book.”

Harry shrugged, “I had a long summer.”

The group arrived at the quidditch pitch where a crowd of hopeful Slytherins were all holding tightly onto brooms, hoping to earn their way onto the team. Marcus Flint stood at the side of the crowd, watching them all with a critical eye.

Harry’s friends waved him goodbye as they went to watch from the stands.

“What on earth are you wearing Silver?” Malfoy said with a disgusted look at Harry’s muggle sports gear, Malfoy of course was wearing expensive looking robes.

Harry ignored him (and many of the other people sniggering at him) and turned his attention to Flint. He didn’t particularly like Flint and it was obvious Flint didn’t like him either, but Harry hoped his skills would speak for themselves.

“SHUT UP!”

The entire crowd snapped their mouths shut as Flint glared at them.

“Alright listen up. I know you all have your preferred positions but that isn’t how we do things here, you’ll all be completing the same tryouts. Whoever makes up the best team gets the spots, you don’t like it, you can turn around and leave anytime you want.”

There were a few grumbles among the crowd but nobody left.

“Right,” Flint commanded, “On your brooms, I want everyone doing laps around the pitch!”

“Easy, father got me a new Nimbus 2001 afterall,” Malfoy said smugly to the crowd.

“I got one too!” Harry cheered as he rose several feet in the air and enjoyed watching Malfoy baulk. 

Harry joined the other flyers in circling the pitch. Some of them, like Malfoy, tried to show off by zooming around the pitch as fast as they could while others attempted fancy twists and turns. Harry choose to simply fly around the pitch at a steady and pleasant pace.

This turned out to be the right move as Harry was one of the few people who noticed Flint walk into the middle of the pitch and open several chests. A moment later several bludgers flew out, screaming towards the flyers.

Three people were taken out immediately, being thrown off their brooms and tumbling down to the pitch. A few Slytherin seventh years were making sure nobody was seriously hurt.

The bludgers circled the flyers and everyone went to break off.

“ANYONE WHO ISN’T CIRCLING THE PITCH IS OUT!” Flint’s shout came.

Harry realised what the point of this was, they had to avoid the bludgers while keeping formation. The speed of people moving around the pitch doubled, even Harry pushed himself. All around HIM people ducked and swerved to avoid the bludgers as they took out more and more students.

Harry spied one out of the corner of his eye zooming towards him and he looped in the air to avoid it. It passed him and smashed into the face of a fourth year. This continued for a few minutes until half the students had been knocked out, several of them carried away on stretchers to the hospital wing.

Flint waved his wand and the bludgers returned to their chests. Most of the tryouts had horrified looks on their faces but Harry was grinning from ear to ear. This was the first time he’d been able to properly fly in years!

“Alright!” Flint shouted up to the flyers, “Whoever is holding a quaffle after ten minutes wins! Feel free to break formation for this!”

With that another chest opened and several quaffles shot up into the air. Everyone broke off the shot towards the middle of the pitch. Harry tried to follow but the crowd was too thick and he was forced to shoot upwards so as not to collide with anyone.

Those who had managed to snag a quaffle out of the air spread out in all directions, all with a tail of other flyers behind them.

Harry spied a third year with one weaving between the stands and pushed his broom down, skyrocketing towards them. He angled himself to come in at their side but the third year caught wind of it and spun in the air, Harry’s hand missing them by a good few inches.

He pulled up on his Nimbus and lopped upwards so hard he felt blood rush to his head. Turning round he joined the crowd chasing the third year. But with his Nimbus Harry quickly took the lead of the pack.

The third year was good, twisting between the stands and goal posts, but their broom just couldn’t match Harry for speed. They made the mistake of heading out in the open, giving Harry a clear straight line to catch them up in.

Harry shot forward with a burst of speed, screaming past the rest of the flyers and steadily gaining on the third year. He was just about to smash right into them when the third year threw the quaffle straight in the air and pulled back on their broom, coming to a complete stop. Harry was going far too fast to match it and zoomed past the third year before he was able to turn.

Harry cursed under his breath, for the first time realising just how difficult being a chaser was. Though a snitch was fast, small and hard to see, it rarely pulled off the tricky manoeuvres a wizard or witch on a broom could. And after ten minutes Harry quickly realised while he was very good at catching up to someone else on a broom he struggled to match the stunts they pulled off and actually grab the quaffle.

By the time Flint blew his whistle Harry hadn’t even touched a quaffle. His defeat was only made worse by the fact Malfoy was eagerly flying around with one under his arm.

“Anyone who really knows how to ride a Nimbus 2001 would find this far too easy.” he boasted to anyone who would listen.

Harry gripped his broom with a white knuckled grip and just hoped he could show Malfoy up in the next tryouts.

Sadly the next tryout was for keeper where Harry discovered he was an even worse keeper than a chaser. Everything that made him a great seeker, being small, nimble and fast, made him a terrible keeper. Out of the five shots he had to defend against he only made one. The only saving grace was that Malfoy failed to make any.

At least Harry did a little better when it came to being a beater. He was pretty good at having a sixth sense for bludgers and he hit every single one that came at him. The only issue once again was that compared to big burly fifth years and above he just couldn’t launch the bludgers very far before they would turn around and come zooming back towards him.

But finally, after a gruelling morning, they arrived at the seeker section of the try-outs and Harry was ready to wipe the smug grin off Malfoy's face.

“Ok,” Flint said, now hovering above the pitch surrounded by the quidditch hopefuls, “About five minutes ago I released a snitch. I want you to search for it and catch it when-”

Before anyone else could register what was happening Harry had launched himself towards Flint at top speed. Flint’s eyes widened and he shot to the side. But Harry flew right past him, heading for the corner in the stands. He reached his arm out and a moment later twisted in the air, holding the snitch aloft in his hand.

“I got it!”

Flint blinked at him, “Uh… Right…. Good work Silver, release the snitch and we’ll have another five minute countdown.”

Harry released the snitch and it flew off. Everybody waited in tense silence as Flint kept an eye on his watch. People glanced all over the pitch, looking for the snitch. Except for Harry who had noticed it four minutes after Flint had released it. It was hovering just above one of the benches in the stands to his right.

The moment he heard Flint’s whistle Harry dived for the snitch. The air ripped past him as he turned on his broom so he was riding upside down. He reached out with his hand, his fingers practically skimming the benches before grabbing the snitch in his hand.

“Got it!”

Flint looked stunned and for a moment forgot to speak.

“Uh… Again then…”

Once again everyone waited for the whistle, at least this time Harry didn’t spot the snitch instantly. He circled above the pitch with a few others, waiting for it to make an appearance. There were a few people trying to fake the others into chasing them but Harry knew when someone was faking and when they were actually chasing the golden ball.

A flicker of gold caught Harry’s eye by the goalposts. He turned towards it and crouched low against his broom. He heard shouts around him, other people trying to spot the snitch. But it was too little too late. 

The snitch moved slightly, hoving from inside to just above the goalpost. But Harry’s path was already set. He grit his teeth and decided to do something that might get him killed.

Harry braced himself against his broom before jumping off it. His broom flew through the goal while Harry soared overhead. He snatched the snitch out of the air before managing to land back on his broom, wobbling slightly but holding aloof the smith nonetheless.

“I-”

“Yeah yeah,” Flint said, cutting him off, “You know the drill.”

Harry smirked and let go of the snitch. He caught it two more times (once shouting at Tracey to duck as he nabbed it from above her head) before everyone figured out their best move was to watch Harry and try to out fly him. Unfortunately for them though his chaser, keeper and beater skills needed work Harry had few equals when it came to seeking. He was just too fast and nimble for any of them to stand a chance.

By Harry’s eight time in a row Flint called down to the pitch.

“Silver!” Flint shouted as he marched up to Harry.

Harry panicked, holding tightly onto the snitch as Flint towered over him. For a minute he fought the instinct to reach for his wand before Flint slapped him on the shoulder and gave him a wide smile.

“You’re going to be the best seeker Slytherin has ever seen!”

Harry couldn’t help but beam back at Flint, already excited for his first match back on a quidditch team.

“Harry, that was amazing!” Tracey cried as she, Blaise and Daphne ran up to him.

“I’d say you’re a natural but that was professional level flying out there.” Blaise said.

“Perhaps you might actually win us some points this year,” Daphne said to him with a slight smirk.

“Points? HA!” Flint cheered, “Silver here will be our secret weapon, there’s no way we’ll lose the house cup this year with him on our team!”

“Thanks everyone!” Harry said.

“Hey!” Came a voice like nails on a chalkboard from above them, “I wanted to be seeker!”

Malfoy landed next to them with a huff, his usually pristine hair was a mess and his face was red with fury.

“You’ll be a chaser,” Flint said, “I told you you’d make the team, not which position you’d have.”

Malfoy stamped his feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum, “But I promised father I would be seeker! If I’m just a chaser then perhaps he might reconsider his offer of brooms…”

Flint just let out a loud deep laugh, “You think we need them to win? Sure it’ll be nice to have new brooms but with Silver out there the rest of us can kick back with a butterbeer and wait for him to win the match.”

Harry smirked at Malfoy who seemed to be on the verge of exploding with fury.

“But I want to be the seeker!”

“And want to win the cup,” Flint said before turning back to Harry, “Ignore him, you go and relax. I need to sort the rest of the team out, I’ll let you know when the first training session is.”

Harry nodded and started to walk back to the castle, the joyful sounds of Malfoy’s temper tantrum in the background.

“I’m surprised Flint was so quick to dismiss Malfoy,” Blaise commented, “I hear the Flints will do anything to get in the goodbooks of anybody with an ounce of power these days.”

“Flint isn’t stupid enough to risk the quidditch cup for Malfoy though,” Daphne said, “Even he could see putting anyone but Harry in the seeker position is insane and anyone but Draco will realise it too.”

“I’d like to remind you all how inane pureblood society and politics is,” Harry said as they walked into the castle.

“Noted.” Daphne said.

“Harry!? How did it go?”

Harry looked to his side to see Harrison and the other Hufflepuffs running up to him.

“You guys better get used to losing,” Tracey said and stuck her tongue out, “Harry here is going to be the best seeker Hogwarts has ever seen.”

Harrison smiled wide at Harry, “I knew you’d get on the team! I’m proud of you Harry!”

Harry felt a weird twisting in his gut at Harrison’s words and couldn’t tell if he wanted to hold it tight to his chest or rip it out of him. Instead he decided to counter.

“Thanks, what about you? Didn’t Hufflepuff have their try-outs Friday evening?”

“That’s right, I made chaser,” Harrison said.

“You should have seen it!” Susan cried, “Harrison was amazing, Cedric even offered him seeker at one point.”

“Ah, I really don’t think I’m that good,” Harrison said and scratched the back of his neck, “Besides it would feel terrible to take Cedric’s position from him so for now I’m happy with chaser.”

“Did any of you guys try out?” Hannah asked the Slytherins.

“Nah,” Blaise said, “Not our thing.”

“We tried to get Neville to try out for beater, but I think he’s too scared of the bludger,” Susan said and slapped Neville on the back who squealed, seemingly terrified at the idea.

“We were gonna go work on our Charms essay if you guys want to join us?” Harrison asked.

“Sounds good,” Daphne said as Blaise and Tracey nodded, “I’d say let's find Hermione too but she’s probably already in the library.”

Harry chuckled, “You guys go ahead, I’ll wash and change and meet you later.”

“Sure thing, by Harry!”

Harry waved goodbye to them and made his way towards the common room, whistling as he did. He was so happy he nearly ran into Astoria who was standing in an abandoned hall, staring at the wall.

“Oh, hi Astoria.”

Astoria didn’t move, she kept staring at the wall with a blank expression.

“Uh… Astoria?” Harry said, waving his hand in front of her face with no response.

“Astoria!” Harry cried and grabbed her shoulder.

Finally Astoria jumped out of her trance and turned to Harry with a pale face, “Wha- Harry? What are you doing?”

“Me? What were you doing?” Harry asked with a concerned frown, “You spaced out on me, is everything ok?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, everything is um… fine. Sorry, I was just looking for Ginny.”  

Before Harry could say anything else Astoria took off running down the hall. Harry watched her go before biting his lip. 

He knew he shouldn’t jump to conclusions but…

Was there a chance Astoria had the diary?