Halloween
Natrix was in the woods, having been practically dragged there by eager Thestrals. Of course, that wasn’t unusual, however, the talking definitely was.
Sure, Natrix was aware there were Centaurs in the forest, they’d met her, and decided she was both young enough not to bother with and not human enough to not give a shit about. Natrix wasn’t exactly sure what to think about the second part, but they suppressed the matter anytime she thought about it.
The reason the chatter was unusual was because the centaurs didn’t come near the thestral grove and nobody not deemed an adult by their community was to leave the village. The two voices she heard were young, and one was familiar, strangely familiar. She left the grove, creeping toward the voices, curious.
She looked through branches upon being able to make out two figures, one clearly a centaur child and the other human. She realized it was Hannah, giving the child a carrot and holding a basket of fruit.
Hannah wasn’t a threat to her, so Natrix quietly walked out of the trees and into the little clearing. She spoke up, not realizing Hannah hadn’t noticed her, forgetting most people didn’t listen for footsteps outside of their bedroom doors, (or up to the attic) daily, “You know Centaurs are omnivores right?”
Hannah yelped, tripping over a log and falling against a tree, clutching her chest, “NAT! Don’t scare me like that! You’re going to give me a heart attack one day, even with your cane, you’re dead silent!”
Natrix tilted her head and giggled under her breath before saying, “Sorry, I thought you knew I was there, considering I was walking over branches and such.”
Hannah said, “Next time please announce yourself before you’re right over my shoulder. I swear you’ve got the aura of the Grim Reaper!” Nat merely raised an eyebrow and Hannah blinked, “Ok, yeah, you are the child of Death so I guess that makes sense.”
Natrix then said, “Away from the topic of my spookiness, but Centaurs are omnivores. Next time I’ll help you sneak some meat out to the child as well, how old?”
Hannah replied, “Marcys is 4.”
Nat nodded and said, “I shall treat this child the opposite of how my not-parents treated me, I will protect and cherish him.”
Hannah immediately looked concerned, which Natrix ignored in favor of studying the child in front of them. He was an itty bitty thing for a centaur, with pinkish skin, and fluffy hair. His horse half would be called grey by anyone familiar with horses because it was clear by his greenish-blue eyes and very pigmented hair that he wasn’t albino. Natrix appreciated the nod to the Roman variation of Ares in his name. Roman and Greek names were common among Centaurs, and Natrix idly wondered if his last name was perhaps Foundling, per tradition, but decided not to ask, instead saying, “He’s small for a four-year-old, we need to get some protein and iron into him”
Natrix ignored the coughed “Hypocrite” coming from Hannah, well aware she should eat more meat but didn’t, it was a common cause of disputes between her and the Baron, who often ended up making deals with her, and Natrix never broke a deal, to do so would feel wrong. They watched as Marcys ate, chatting idly about their classes.
Finally, they ended up talking about Snape. Natrix casually said, “You know, the first night we were here, Snape called me an it. I’m almost willing to bet he’d be transphobic. Marcys if you ever meet someone who doesn’t respect your chosen gender, whatever that may be, you tell Hannah or myself. Or an adult you trust.”
Natrix didn’t notice the anger beginning to show on Hannah’s face and thus was startled when Hannah growled, “He. What?”
Nat said simply, “Well, you know how the Slytherin dorms don’t let me up either staircase?” Hannah nodded and Nat said, “Well, he called me an it after that, he was probably going to make me sleep on the couch had Romulus not mentioned the head boy/girl room seeing as neither is in Slytherin house this year.”
Hannah then muttered, “I’m going to murder him.”
Natrix immediately said, “Don’t get caught, also wait until the end of the year so we don’t have to deal with an underqualified substitute messing up our learning while Dumbledore searches for a new Potions Master.”
Hannah muttered something unintelligible and Natrix said to Marcys, “If someone tries to do anything to you, tell us and I’ll keep Hannah out of Azkaban, or commit a felony myself.”
Marcys gave Natrix a look that practically screamed, “You do realize that murder is illegal right?” Natrix promptly ignored the look and said, “We need to get Marcys under our legal custody or something, I can probably talk to the centaurs about it, they know I’m not human, it’s why they don’t care about me being in the forest. You might have minor issues, but since you’re clearly raising a centaur child I don’t think they’ll have any major issues with you as long as you teach him centaur culture.”
Soon, they were bringing Marcys somewhere safe, which happened to be the thestral grove, and Natrix conjured him a blanket, not paying attention to how Hannah was gaping at her casual use of a third-year spell. Natrix hadn’t even noticed it, seeing as she’d been forced to learn their entire curriculum from first to second year, having just started on third-year spells before school started. Torture was a particularly good motivator to learn a spell quickly. Natrix also found that the spell was easier with a wand of her own, instead of using her not-father’s.
They were walking back to the castle together, heading to the Great Hall since it was dinner time and there was a feast for Halloween that night. As they entered the castle, Natrix heard a strange voice whispering, “Rip, tear, kill!” Natrix promptly began walking toward the voice because, of course, she was incredibly curious. Hannah looked confused and asked, “Nat, what are you doing?” Nat responded with a shushing motion, listening as she heard again, “Kill, shred, tear to pieces!”
Nat asked, “Did you hear that?”
Hannah looked confused and said, “No, what do you mean?”
Nat nodded, understanding what that meant immediately, whispering, “A snake, I don’t think it’s small either.”
Hannah grimaced and asked, “What’s it saying?”
Nat responded, “Nothing you want to know,” following the voice and they were soon in Moaning Myrtle’s toilet. They didn’t know anything odd was happening in the castle, or that Filch’s cat was paralyzed.
Suddenly Nat sighed and said, “The snake’s gone quiet.”
Neither Natrix nor Hannah knew what was happening until they were heading back to the Great Hall. The feast was over, and Filch was yelling about how his cat had been paralyzed. Both Hannah and Nat were sympathetic, and seeing as Mrs. Norris actually liked both of them, Filch let Nat look her over before Nat was gaping, her brain instantly going to Medusa before going immediately to thinking about a basilisk. If the basilisk truly wanted to kill Mrs. Norris would be dead, and she remembered the myth about parselmouths being able to control basilisks they or their ancestors hatched. She didn’t say what she’d realized out loud, knowing that they’d shut down the school and spend ages searching for the basilisk. But Hogwarts was a large castle, and for once, Nat decided to be selfish, she didn’t want to go back to the near-daily beatings, the constant crucios, or the sting of the whip on her back. Yes, the basilisk was dangerous, but if it wanted people dead, it would have made them die. She looked up, not betraying that she knew anything, a mask hiding her realization as she said, “I’m sorry for Mrs. Norris. The second years just potted some mandrakes so at the maximum, she’ll be awake by the end of the school year.” Filch sobbed and thanked her for that knowledge, patting her on the head with his free hand.
She then walked with Hannah, walking her to the Gryffindor dorm room. Once they were on the fourth floor, she said casually, “The snake is a basilisk. It doesn’t truly want to kill, it is definitely being controlled, but even just a Horcrux of someone descended from Salazar Slytherin could do it if they’re a parselmouth. I don’t doubt the Dark Lord made some, his self-chosen name means “flee from death” after all. It’ll be a shame if he pays too much attention to death, and not its offspring.”
Hannah grimaced, looking sad, “That poor basilisk, what if it gets killed for this?”
Nat said nothing, not wanting to lie, even if the lie would make Hannah feel better.
She dropped Hannah off at the Gryffindor dorm before heading to the Slytherin common rooms, making a detour to Myrtle’s bathroom and asking her if should anyone leave anything suspicious in there, any object at all, that she keep it and give it to her. Natrix knew how to counteract a Horcrux’s influence, Her not-brother used to have one, and he’d forced her to wear it for two years before she killed it. It had resulted in the worst beating she’d ever had, but it had been worth it to be free from the bone-deep exhaustion and constant anxiety. She’d learned how to avoid the effects around four months in, but the damage had been done by then, and just the amount of time she’d been wearing that terrible choker had been too much exposure. The worst thing about it hadn’t actually been the Horcrux, it was that the choker had felt more like a collar than a necklace.
As she left the bathroom, she shook off that train of thought, deciding that if anyone were to be in contact with a Horcrux, it was safest that someone who knew how to counteract the effects was the one exposed, and she was probably the only one like that. Horcruxes weren’t exactly common knowledge.