Twisted Fascination

I hummed softly as I stared at the falling snow outside of the window.

December had finally shown up, and with it, a bunch of snow fell. The Black Lake had become frozen solid, and many owls had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid because they were determined to deliver letters.

The Weasley twins had gotten a week of detention and a severe scolding, as they had bewitched snowballs to follow and bounce off the back of Quirrell's turban.

Everyone was eager for the holiday to start, myself included.

I couldn't wait to leave Hogwarts and get my hands on some books about older practices, especially ones surrounding Samhain and Yule, which was seen as much more important than Christmas to the Slytherins. I was also eager to learn more about Lady Magic, Lady Fate, and Lord Death and the rituals to pay tribute to them.

The castle had become much colder during the beginning of December. The corridors became icy, and the ones in the dungeons were cold enough to allow you to see your breath. Wind rattled the windows, and, occasionally, it came in through cracks to freeze unsuspecting students down to their bones.

During one Potions class, everyone was huddled to their cauldrons for warmth.

It was about halfway through that class that Malfoy turned to look at my brother with a rather mean smirk. "I do feel so sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

Naturally, Crabbe and Goyle snickered at the words, being the goons that they were.

Harry ignored them as he measured out powdered spine of lionfish.

"Aren't you returning to your home during Christmas?" Zabini questioned softly.

"What makes you ask that?" I inquired just as quietly.

"I saw you sneer at the sign-up sheet," Zabini answered honestly.

"Ah, that…" I said before smirking. "I do have quite a way with words."

He hummed softly, clearly not knowing how to continue the conversation further when I wouldn't give a straight answer. After a few moments of silence, he asked, "What do you plan on doing during the break?"

"Homework, a bit of research, checking the stock market," I admitted.

"So… you won't actually be taking a vacation?" He concluded.

I chuckled at his astute observation. "I don't believe in vacations."

"But… Surely, you have to take a break sometime," he objected.

"I do," I confirmed, "It's called sleeping."

The boy blanched before mumbling, "You don't even sleep that much."

"I get plenty of sleep," I objected.

"You're the last to go to sleep at night and the first to rise. You're out studying even more than Ravenclaws," he objected.

"I take offense to that," I said, not liking being compared to those arrogant brats.

He huffed, clearly amused. "Oh, so that's what offends you."

I gave a small smirk as we continued with the making of the Wiggenweld Potion.

Soon, Potions ended, and lunch was soon to begin.

As we were walking up to the Great Hall, a large fir tree blocked the path. Two enormous feet stuck out the bottom, and loud puffing made it evident who it was.

Harry and Weasley stopped to talk to the man who was blocking the entire corridor.

"Hi, Hagrid. Want any help?" Weasley offered as he stuck his head through the branches.

I rolled my eyes at him, wanting nothing more than to get to the library before lunch.

"Nah, I'm alright. Thanks, Ron," Hagrid replied.

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Malfoy asked coldly before suddenly smirking. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be a gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Upon hearing the insult to his family, Weasley dove at Malfoy.

Snape, who was coming up the stairs, immediately scowled. "WEASLEY!"

The redhead in question released the front of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid said, sticking his huge, hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape said silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere while smirking.

I sighed heavily before just moving past politely.

"I'll get him back one of these days," Weasley said through grit teeth, "I'll get him back."

Unlikely any time soon, I thought as I headed up to the library, as there was half an hour before lunch. As I was in the library, I heard my brother passing by while speaking to Weasley and Granger.

"I swear, Nicholas Flamel has to be older. There's no way he created the Philosopher's Stone and is in modern history," Granger said.

I immediately frowned as I turned my head in their direction.

"No way. I'm sure Colton was lying," Weasley objected.

I, liking my integrity more than I cared about being seen with those Gryffindors, immediately got up and said, "I do many things, but I do not lie so blatantly."

The three jolted before looking at me with wide eyes, as if caught stealing cookies from a jar.

Harry immediately shifted nervously. "C-Colton-"

"I told you honestly who Nicholas Flamel was, and you allow your little friends to stomp all over my integrity?" I asked, making a show of sounding very disappointed in him.

He hung his head, looking at his feet in a guilty manner.

"Where would we find knowledge about him?" Granger asked eagerly.

"He's an alchemist, Granger, where in the library could you find information about alchemists?" I asked rhetorically.

"Er-"

I held in a heavy sigh. "There's a section on alchemy that way." I pointed in the right direction and said, "To the front of the library, that's where the information on famous alchemists is kept. He was born in the 1300s, so that should give you a starting point."

"I told you he wasn't a modern wizard," Granger hissed at Weasley, who looked a bit embarrassed.

"W-well…" Weasley trailed off before glaring at me like it was my fault he was so incompetent. "If you know so much, why don't you tell us more?"

"What do you want to know more about?" I asked as I gave the boy a long-suffering expression, "You'll need to be specific in questioning to get a specific answer."

Weasley opened his mouth, probably to snap at me, but stopped as Granger waved the boy off.

"We'll be fine. Thank you for helping," the girl said before grabbing a hold of her two friends. She then proceeded to drag them off toward the alchemy section.

I gave a soft sigh as I went back to my table. I continued on with my homework, though I was still quite annoyed by Weasley and Harry both.

The holidays soon started, and those who weren't staying at Hogwarts all got onto the Hogwarts Express with our trunks. The ride was uneventful, something that I was grateful for.

Vernon was waiting out in his car, not even bothering to see if I had arrived safely. He seemed quite annoyed as he threw a newspaper into the back seat where I sat with Dudley.

I absentmindedly gave directions to the Leaky Cauldron as I read over the newspaper and made sure that his stocks would all be okay until I returned for summer break. Once satisfied with my findings, I returned the newspaper to him and assured him that everything would be fine. I then had him pull over, as the Leaky Cauldron wasn't too far away.

He grunted as he opened the trunk of his car, allowing me to pull out my school trunk. He then sped off, but not before reminding me that I wasn't to bug him again.

I sighed heavily at the man before simply carrying my trunk down the street a bit until I made it to the Leaky Cauldron. I entered and ordered a room from Tom, who raised an eyebrow at the request, but didn't object. I took my belongings up to my new room and made sure that I could lock said room tightly before heading off to Flourish and Blotts. I eagerly looked through their books on older rituals and wizarding practices in general. After finding and purchasing a few books, I headed back to the inn, where I spent the following few days reading away to my heart's content.

It was two days after Christmas that Skeeter showed up for the interview, just as agreed.

I was waiting in a private room, merely gazing out the window, when she entered, her heels clicking loudly.

The woman had blonde hair, and her lipstick was a brilliant shade of red. Her eyes raked over my form, trying to find anything wrong with my appearance from behind her green spectacles.

There was a knock at the door, and Tom entered while carrying a platter. He set down the platter, revealing it to be tea and a few biscuits for us to eat. He then took his leave, bowing himself from the room.

Skeeter immediately smiled at me, a smile that was eager and a bit poisonous in intention. "Tell me, Mr. Potter… Why did you write to me in November?"

"I wanted to give my side of the story, of course. I figured you, who wrote the original article concerning me, would love to have both sides of it," I answered.

She gave a small hum before jumping right in the deep end. "Do you think that you are a Dark Lord in the making?"

"I do not believe so," I lied through my teeth, "Though, I'm still not too sure about the differences between Light and Dark Lords at this point. I only became a part of the wizarding world less than six months ago."

She hummed as her quill took notes all on its own. She didn't even look abashed for asking such a pointed question to a child. "Right, you lived with muggles for the past ten years."

"Yes, ma'am," I approved.

She gave a shark-like grin at the sign of respect I had given her. "Do you know why my informants would say that you are?"

"Of course," I agreed, "I am a parseltongue, which is a sign of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I didn't know it, of course, but I had been talking to snakes all my life. I thought it was normal for us magical folk to do so. Furthermore, no one told me it was considered a Dark Art until much later. I suppose that scares other people, especially those at Hogwarts who are in my House. I don't see the correlation, however, between one shared similarity and automatically being a Dark Lord, especially not when my twin can speak to snakes as well."

Skeeter looked at me in shock, and even her quill paused. "Your brother is a parseltongue?"

"Yes, he is," I confirmed with a nod, "I'm sure many others are, too, but they're afraid of speaking up about it because it's so heavily linked with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"I see," Skeeter said, her quill quickly flying back into action. "Is it true that your eyes turn red?"

"I've been told that they do, but I hardly believe it," I said dismissively, "I mean, in certain lighting, my eyes seem to turn red. It always happens when my face is in the shadows, so I imagine it's hard to distinguish between colors. I truly believe that they're simply mistaking a trick of the light for reality."

"Are you interested in the Dark Arts?" She asked.

"I am not," I lied, "My current interest lies in Potions and Charms, which I've been told that I am quite skilled in. Both my parents seemed fond of those subjects, so I'm glad that I am skilled in them as well, you know? It's nice to feel close to them." I suddenly paused before flushing. "I'm sorry. I got off topic."

She quickly waved it off. "No, no, dear. Please, tell me more."

I gave a sad smile. "Well, Harry and I both strive to be like our parents. They were so brave that night, defending us from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I wish I could have known them more, but…" I trailed off hesitantly before shaking my head. "In any case, I'm just glad to be learning at the same school they did, under a few of the same professors. I like it when they compare my parents and myself. I'm sure Harry likes it, too, as our muggle relatives didn't talk about them much when we were growing up."

"They didn't?" Skeeter asked right away.

"Oh, no," I denied, "They didn't like our parents at all, and us by extension. They told Harry and I that our parents died in a car crash for years until we got our letters from Hogwarts."

"They didn't!" She gasped, clearly ready to spread that juicy gossip to the world.

"They did," I approved, "I think they were scared of us, to be honest. I'm sure you know that not all muggle parents are accepting if their child is a witch or wizard. Well, imagine them knowing our whole lives and looking down at us just because we were born with magic."

"How terrible," she said sympathetically.

"I don't think they intended to be so mean, but, like I said before, they were scared," I said.

"Poor dear," the woman commented. "Do you think that's what impacted your House decision?"

"I'm sure it did," I said, "You see, I've always wanted to protect Harry, ever since we were little. It was my greatest ambition to keep him safe, and I believe it was that ambition that put me in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like my brother."

"Why would you have to protect him?" Skeeter questioned.

I faltered a bit, appearing hesitant. "Well… Our cousin… He was a bit of a bully, and so were his friends. We, being smaller than the rest, were often the target of bullying, not only by them, but by others at the muggle school we went to. I felt like, as the older twin, it was my job to protect my younger brother."

"I understand," she said, clearly lying. "Are you still being bullied?"

"I mean, I imagine that your informants were trying to slander me," I answered, "Is that not a form of bullying?"

Skeeter's eyes narrowed a bit. "I suppose it can be…" She straightened up and asked, "Do you know who wanted to slander your name?"

"Of course," I replied honestly, "You see, I happened to get angry at Draco Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express, as he was addressing a Prefect with disrespect. When I hissed at him in parseltongue, he got scared and said that I was the next Dark Lord."

"Another of my informants said that you did the same thing to Lord Malfoy," she pointed out.

"I did," I said, causing her to look surprised. "He insulted my clothes, I got angry as a result, and I hissed at him in parseltongue."

"Would you say that you have a temper?" Skeeter inquired.

"I do," I agreed, "But I'm really trying to work on it. I don't want to be seen as an angry person, especially not when I care a lot for simple things in life, like peaceful days in the library at Hogwarts and whatnot."

She hummed softly. "My main informant said that you're dangerous."

"Me?" I asked, looking surprised, "I can't imagine why. Besides all the stereotypes of Slytherin, of course." I then paused before tilting my head to the side a bit. "Well… I suppose that your main informant would say that."

"You know who they are?" She pressed eagerly.

"Of course. It's none other than Theodore Nott. He's been… a bit weird, if I'm to be honest," I said as I rubbed the back of my neck as if uncomfortable. "All year, he's been making strange advances. When I asked him to stop, the news article about me came out almost a week later."

"What kind of strange advances has he been making?" Skeeter inquired.

"I don't know if I should say…" I said hesitantly, "I heard the last time someone really got on his bad side, he got a restraining order filed against him by that person. I don't want to get on his bad side and have him do something extreme to me."

Skeeter's eyes flashed, clearly a sign that she recalled such an incident. "I see…"

Suddenly, an alarm sound came from her wand.

I sighed heavily as I dropped my hand back to my lap. "In any case, I thank you for your time. I'm really glad to be able to talk to you, to get my side of the story out."

"Oh, of course," she said as she gave me a smile that screamed false niceties.

I stood up and shook the hand she had extended out.

She soon released my hand, and we decided to part ways, leaving the tea and biscuits untouched.

I went back to my room and locked myself away before grinning maniacally. I couldn't wait to see Nott's face when I returned to Hogwarts.