Chapter 3
“This is offensive,” Thomas commented. “I am offended.” An image of Lockhart’s ‘quiz,’ expanded to billboard size, hung over Snape’s lab table. “I, with all my knowledge, get passed over; Severus, with knowledge and experience, is refused, while this popinjay is given the post with barely a qualm.”
“I quite agree, Sir,” said Snape. Harry was in detention with him; the only space outside his mindscape where Harry could act his age. To keep up the charade, they were both scrubbing glassware, while Thomas tried out a newly devised projection spell, standing transparent at Harry’s shoulder. “The only way to learn from that fool would be to fact-check everything he says.”
“Hmm …” Harry recalled one of the music videos which Dudley had watched on the telly over the summer. “Between the three of us, we have all the Defense knowledge that Lockhart doesn’t. The trick will be getting it across to the students.”
“Allow me, Master.” Thomas was already shuffling through his knowledge of runes and spellcrafting.
“I also would like to participate, my Lord,” said Snape. “It is unfortunate that I have my own classes at the same time as his.”
His disappointment was understandable. “There is something you can help me with, Professor. If I give you the money, could you quietly obtain one or two live goats for me?”
Snape raised an eyebrow. “Dare I ask, Lord?”
Harry answered with a grin.
***
Draco had already written off Lockhart as useless, much like Binns, and intended to compose his herbology essay while pretending to pay attention.
“Today,” Lockhart announced, “I will be dicussing my adventure with the Bandersnatchi of Nevada!”
An illusory sign popped up behind him: Bandersnatchi are native to Central America, it read. Lockhart didn’t seem to notice it was there.
“Now, because the deserts of Nevada are an ideal habitat for Bandersnatchi, these specimens were particularly fierce,”
Bandersnatchi prefer moist jungle environments, wrote the sign.
“So I was forced to contend with one five meters tall, with claws as sharp as razors.”
The largest recorded Bandersnatch was 1.9 meters long.
Draco sat up straight. So did the rest of the class; Granger opened her mouth to comment, but Longbottom elbowed her. Lockhart was delighted that the class was paying such close attention, without the slightest inkling why.
***
Defense was not the only class which had suffered a decline. While the firsties had flying lessons, the second-years were supposed to have a health class, which was now reduced to a meeting in their House common room.
“Certain parties,” said Madame Hooch, “Believe that this subject matter is inappropriate for students your age. However, Poppy and I are of the opinion that it’s best to learn such things before you need them.”
From listening to his father’s complaints, Draco knew that the Certain Parties were Dumbledore. Draco couldn’t make sense of it; courting was hardly a Dart Art, was it?
Madam Hooch passed around a stack of slim booklets. “These books contain the basics you will need to know about sex, genders both magical and physical, reproduction, and relationships, along with a selection of related spells. We actually encourage experimenting while at Hogwarts, since the wards prevent any untoward results. If you have questions you’d rather ask in private, please feel free to come to either Poppy or myself.”
Later, safely holed up in their dorm room, Draco, Vince and Greg studied the booklet. “What untoward consequences did Madame Hooch mean?”
Vince flipped through the pages. “Here it is: Hogwarts wards prevent pregnancy, disease, and unwilling sexual contact. ”
Reasonable enough. Greg took the book next, and turned to the section on magical genders. “It is a common misconception that Omegas have the weakest magic, and Alphas the strongest. In fact, these are lower thresholds. While all Squibs are necessarily Omega, so are some of the world’s most powerful wizards. ”
Omegas often were treated as little better than squibs. Not in the Malfoy household, as they were above such behaviour. Greg continued, “In fact, the main difference between magical genders is in fertility. Alphas can impregnate any gender; betas can impregnate Betas or Omegas; and Omegas can only impregnate other omegas. There’s a chart.”
The whole business sounded frightfully dull. Draco knew he was expected to produce an heir at some point, but he’d rather be thinking about quidditch.
“Anything else you may have heard about the traits of any gender, magical or physical, are a matter of custom, and you need not feel bound to conform to them. ” The author had clearly never lived in high society. “The next section is about physical differences linked to magical gender in various magical beings.” Greg passed the book to Draco, who skipped to the spell list.
“Protection charms, pregnancy detection, a lot of body modification spells, a vibrating charm? What’s that in there for?”
“You’ll understand when you’re older, ” Greg mocked.
“Here it is: magical gender detection. Incant ‘apero genus’ and tap wand to the back of the wrist. Do we want to?”
“Better to find out for ourselves than have someone surprise us,” said Vince. “Does it say anything else?”
“A Greek letter will appear. If the result is anything other than A, B or Ώ, consult a healer.”
It seemed simple enough. “All together, then?” said Draco. They spoke the spell and tapped their wrists; a B appeared on Greg and Vince’s hands. The letter on Draco’s hand, however, was a bold Ώ.
“Merlin’s balls.” Had his parents known? Anyone concerned with bloodlines would check early. The others were thinking along the same lines.
“D’you think our parents set us up?” said Vince. They had shared tutors from an early age, gone to the same social events, spent their free time together. It was a common practice for families with similar-aged children. But Vince had a point.
“Normally I’d just ask Dobby, but – ”
To Draco’s surprise, the House Elf appeared on his nightstand. “Young Master Draco calls?”
Draco frowned. “Dobby, what are you doing at Hogwarts?” The elf whined and looked around the room nervously. “Never mind. Did my parents know what my magical gender is?”
Dobby nodded frantically. “Yes, young master Draco. They is arranging the alliance with Crabbeses and Goyleses because of it.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” said Greg. “We’re friends, gender won’t change that, and I’ll hex anyone who says otherwise.”
Draco smiled. “Thanks, guys … let’s work out how to present this in public.”
***
Harry was busy evading Filch again. Somehow the caretaker always knew when he was up to … extracurricular activities. He’d managed to circle around to where he wanted to where he wanted to be, and ducked through the door before Filch caught up to him.
“You can’t be in here,” shrieked Moaning Myrtle. “This is a girls’ bathroom!”
“Just passing through, Miss Warren.” Harry leaned closer to the door and hissed a parseltongue locking spell. “Avarana. ” The spell called for a password, so Harry added the most unlikely phrase he could think of: “Chudley Canons won the World Cup. ”
Myrtle, meanwhile, was floating next to him and sniffling. “Hardly anyone bothers to remember my last name …”
Thomas would never forget his first kill. “I’m hardly anyone, then. Open. ” He hissed at the sink, and jumped down the hole that appeared.
“Are you not using the stairs, Master?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Harry landed lightly, cast a lumos and went onwards. The tunnel could use some care, he noted.
“Oh wow, I never knew this was down here!” exclaimed Myrtle, startling him. “oooh, maybe whatever killed me is down here! If it kills you too, we can haunt the toilets together.”
“That’s kind of you to offer, Miss Warren.” She flitted away, and Harry took out one of the items he had brought – a set of opaque goggles – and switched his glasses for them. “Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!” (He should really change that password, too.) “Oris, are you awake?”
Scales scraped over stone. “A Speaker. I have not scented this one before. How does he know my name? ”
“I learned of you from the Speaker before me,” Harry said.
“I do not wish to harm you, young Speaker. ”
“Don’t worry, I’ve covered my eyes. And I brought a snack.” He took a box from his pocket; inside was a shunken, sleeping goat. He removed the collar which kept it enchanted. The goat bleated, and then there was a brief scuffle as Oris caught it.
“You are generous, young Speaker. What do you want from me? ”
Harry didn’t have anything in mind. “I only came to check that you’re well.”
“You are strange, ” Oris hissed around a mouthful of goat.
***
While most of the Slytherins were quick to compare magical genders – Pansy was miffed that Millicent turned out to be an alpha –Draco could not afford the vulnerability of being known as an Omega. Now more than ever, he needed to display the power of the Malfoy family.
And what better way than to further his rivalry with Potter? Flint already had a scheme one-up the Gryffindor quidditch team by interrupting their practice. It was the perfect opportunity. Draco swaggered up to Potter with his new broom in hand. “You won’t have an easy time on the pitch this year, scarhead.”
Potter raised an eyebrow. “Only one way to find out,” he said softly. His hangers-on were louder.
“In your dreams, Malfoy,” yelled Weasley. “You’re only on the team because your daddy bought you a place.” Did he count that as a bad thing? Draco would never understand Gryffindors. Still, he should take the chance to score a few points.
“Not like you’d know anything about your father buying you things, Measley.”
That was when Granger butted in. “Money can’t buy everything, you know.”
“Nobody cares what you think, mudblood.” Granger paled; Potter tensed. Weasley drew his wand and for a moment Draco thought he had miscalculated, but then Weasley’s hex backfired and he started belching slugs. Flint laughed, and then the rest of the team; a moment later, Draco joined them. He’d shown up the Gryffindors and demonstrated his place among the purebloods. So why did he have a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach?
***
Halloween arrived quickly. Like the previous year, Harry planned to avoid the feast. He whispered the password to Myrtle’s bathroom and slipped inside.
“You again,” said the ghost.
“Happy Halloween, Miss Warren. I brought you some flowers.” He set down a vase of gerberas with a black ribbon tied around it.
“Memorial flowers? Ooh, I haven’t gotten any in decades!”
Harry smiled at her excitement. “Rest in peace, and all that.”
“No way, I’m going to Nearly Headless Nick’s deathday party. It’s his five-hundredth tonight, you know.”
Harry did know, since Hermione had been talking to Nick and gotten herself invited. “Have fun! Say hi to Hermione for me.”
He spent the rest of the evening in the Chamber of Secrets, listening to Oris tell stories of the past. “My first Speaker hatched me to serve the High King – Merlin, you humans called him – and the High Kings after him. But there have been none. Other Speakers have found me, but they saw only death in me. ”
That was all Thomas had seen, too. “Shortsighted, in retrospect,” he mused
It sounded like a lonely existence, but maybe a snake didn’t mind that as much. “Has Hogwarts changed much since then?”
Oris laughed. “Much, yes. But what is important, because it is important, has not. ” Harry wished Ron could hear this – his storybooks were full of the High Kings and their liegewizards.
He finished his packed meal and spent some time tracing reinforcement runes on the tunnels. When he returned to the surface, Myrtle was still away, but there was a commotion in the corridor outside. Harry slipped on his invisibility cloak and snuck around the corner before doubling back to see what was going on.
Scrawled on the wall in red paint were the words: “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened! Enemies of the Heir beware!”
“Excuse me? ” said Thomas. “I am the heir of Slytherin, and I did not approve this message. ”
Did that make Harry the Heir of Slytherin by conquest? He edged closer; Mrs Norris the cat lay petrified below the message. Filch crouched over her, distraught. Professor McGonagall patted his shoulder. “Pull yourself together, Argus. She’s only petrified; a potion will fix that right up.”
Filch sniffled. Then his head shot up and he glared straight at Harry. “Potter! I know it was you! You did this!”
What? Of course he had not, but he also could not account for his evening. Snape stepped through the crowd. “Now, Argus, I’m sure Mr Potter was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“He was with us all evening,” Hermione chimed in. “We were at Nearly Headless Nick’s deathday party.”
Harry nodded, hiding his surprise. “I had no idea any of this was going on until just now.” He thinned his occlumency barriers in the hope that his honesty would show to whatever senses Filch used to track him. Filch glared and growled, but allowed Snape to guide him towards the Hospital Wing.
There were few magical effects which could petrify a cat that way; the gaze of a basilisk would, if it was reflected. But Harry had been with Oris all evening, so it couldn’t have been her …