No more lies (To Victory)

CHAPTER 5

••°°••

Yule Ball.

Harry is going to have to get a date and dance.

This was a nightmare.

People flocked him.

Groups of giggling girls would swarm him when he walked the halls, and it took Harry hissing at them in parseltongue to get them to even move out of the way.

Boys weren't so annoying, but Harry definitely felt the new sort of attention he was receiving from them as well.

A bloody nightmare. 

And the nerve of them too! 

So far he's been asked to go by a third year Hufflepuff he didn't know, bloody Colin Creevy (god, he wished he was left petrified) and a ravenclaw fifth year boy. He said no to all, of course, but it was annoying.

Now more than ever he wished to have his invisibility cloak, but Harry's yet to visit the Chamber of Secrets.

Tom was on his mind more than ever lately, especially with the new information he received.

Somehow Tom managed to speak to dragons on his behalf. 

Harry had no idea how this was possible. Did Tom possess him? It was the only plausible explanation. But then how did he end up in a hallway with nothing on his person?

That night was still a blank, and he was incredibly curious to know what transpired.

Harry sighed.

He knew he'll have to go back there sooner or later. And it seems like it will be much sooner than he anticipated. 

The thing is, he still felt betrayed by Tom.

They had their fair share of disagreements and fights during the years, anywhere from simple squabbles to downright cursing each other, but Tom has never gone too far. To hurt him to a point of what happened that day was unspeakable and out of character for the boy.

But was it? It was a baby Voldemort .

To think of it now, Harry was being slightly unreasonable and may have pushed Riddle too far.

But can you blame him? Harry just found out he had to go against a bloody dragon . A nesting, fire breathing, deadly dragon.

Sue him.

He went a little nuts.

Perhaps he can just snatch his things and ignore Riddle altogether. It's his older counterparts' fault anyway that he's in this tournament in the first place.

Bloody Dark Lords and their gigantic egos.

Why is Harry the one who has to deal with them?

Harry successfully managed to ignore the entirety of Gryffindor house after the first task.

He stayed the night in Slytherin after the party, drunk for the first time, and woke up in Draco’s bed, with the boy sleeping next to him. 

It was… embarrassing. He would’ve squealed if not for the head-splitting headache, when he first realized where he actually was.

And it was so unfair too! Slytherins had larger, much more comfortable beds and had two or three boys to the room. He was going to complain about this to someone.

But slytherins were so chill about him being there, Harry honestly wondered if he could get re-sorted. Or just sneak a bed in there as well.

It would be well worth it.

He remembered Tom mentioning something about Heir Rooms, but he had no idea where they were or if he could actually use them.

Another problem for another day.

He took a shower - and Merlin, the pressure was another level. Slytherin had a bath as well, not only showers! It was unfair. No wonder slytherins were so smug about bloody everything. 

They had the best of everything.

When he finally graced the Gryffindor tower with his presence, those who were inside cheered, but Harry was having none of it.

He sneered at them.

"You've stabbed me in the back, called me an attention seeking liar and shunned me, but now that I've finished the task and came out on top, now you decide to show support?" Harry was practically hissing at them as the room steadily filled with oppressive magic. Some students blanched back. "I don't need that now, you two-faced, good for nothing, backstabbing twats. Your approval means absolutely nothing , since Gryffindor seems to be filled with nothing but traitors . You might as well go cheer Diggory. Now fuck off."

With that Harry promptly stomped away, leaving dead silence in his wake.

Surprisingly it felt good getting this off his chest and they needed to hear it. Gryffindor's only supported you as long as you fit their perfect image, but even one slight deviation and you're named a pariah.

Harry went to his dormity, ignoring everyone and went to grab his school robes and books, seeing as he had lessons today.

You’d think they’d have enough foresight to cancel lessons today. Harry was bloody hungover.

Harry didn't have time for that.

And still needed to get to breakfast.

Fuck. He should’ve asked a house elf to bring his stuff down to the dungeons, although walking here woke him up a bit.

Thank god for small mercies.

“Oh, Harry, you look like… well, a bit ruffled and pale. You alright? Didn’t see you here last night?” Neville asked from his bed, still in his pajamas. He looked like he just woke up.

“Yep, I’m great. Have a headache though. I should have a pain relief potion somewhere…” Harry rummaged through his bag and pulled out the vial, downing it immediately.

He brewed his own batch after he started getting splitting headaches from Voldemort this summer. Occlumency seemed to help, but it was never a bad thing to have one on hand, considering how headache-inducing everyone was this year..

“Everyone was waiting for you yesterday, there was a party, but you didn’t show up,” Neville continued, looking at Harry with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, I was at the party, alright.”

“But- but I didn’t see you-”

“Oh, please, Neville. You honestly think I’d celebrate with people who stabbed me in the back for things I didn't do? I have more self respect than that.”

Neville looked concerned, but nodded nonetheless. “I understand. I’m glad you made it out alright yesterday. They were insane to bring a dragon, though.”

Harry nodded to the boy, a bit relieved that he had a friend in Neville. The boy was timid and shy, but he had his moments. And excellent at Herbology to boot. “Thanks, Neville.”

Harry grabbed his bag along with his books and ran out before any of them could start to bother him. Thank Merlin Ron slept like a log until almost the end of breakfast. He didn’t have any patience to deal with the traitor right now.

He glared at every gryffindor he met along the way.

“Harry! There you are!” Theo shouted as Harry was heading towards the Great Hall. “Merlin, slow down.”

Harry grinned at them, noticing a bit pale faces and disgruntled expressions. “Tough morning?” he asked.

“Shut up, Potter, not all of us can be so chirper this early,” Blaise grumbled, looking like he was ready to face-plant. The boy was absolutely plastered yesterday.

Harry shrugged, unrepentant. “Should’ve taken a potion. Lack of forethought and all that.”

They all groaned.

“Do you honestly think we’re that stupid to ask Snape for a potion?”

“There’s always Pomfrey and, you know, could’ve made it yourself. Draco here is always boasting about his potion brewing abilities.”

“He’s not wrong,” Theo muttered, while Draco pursed his lips in displeasure. “Either way-”

“Awh, is someone hungover?” Harry felt someone place an arm across his shoulders. “Don’t zap me.”

“And why shouldn’t I, Warrington?” Harry looked up to glare at the boy. 

“Ah, I told you to call me Cassius last night, Harry. And because I have a hangover cure,” he pulled out a vile from his pocket to show. 

“And just giving them out like that?” Harry was rightfully suspicious.

“Ah, how slytherin of you, Harry. Should’ve expected. No, I require your company as a payment,” the boy winked at him.

Harry looked at him incredulously.

“If Snape sees them hungover - and he will - he’s neither an idiot nor unobservant, and we have potion’s in an hour, by the way, he will rightfully come to a conclusion that people were drinking yesterday and someone provided drinks, which means seventh years, which includes you. You’ll be the one under the fire for not providing a potion.” Harry smiled at the boy, eyes shining with mirth.

“Bloody hell.”

“He’s good.”

“And if you don’t move your arm away from me right this second I will curse it off.”

Warrington jumped back as if burned.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, just keep your arms to yourself less you wish to start losing appendages.”

Theo and others snorted. 

By now they were aware of Harry’s reclusion to touch, and all of them had their own suspicions as to the reason why. None of them were pretty.

It wasn’t uncommon to witness Harry threaten someone with bodily harm for contact either.

Warrington handed out the viles, looking properly chastised. 

Harry shook his head when Cassius offered him one as well. “I already took something.”

“And didn’t offer us? I’m insulted.” Draco turned away from Harry, crossing his arms.

Ah, the Malfoy charm.

“What am I, a bank? Apothecary? Brew your own. Or ask Snape. He’s your godfather, he’ll probably give you one.”

“And then go snitching to my mother. No thanks.”

Harry snorted when an image of Snape and Narcissa Malfoy gossiping about Draco over tea came up. 

He had no such problem, however crude that may sound.

“Can we move now that all of you are less dead-looking?”

“Shut up, Potter. I look better hungover than you do on a normal day. Just look at your hair. Such a mess.”

“Oh, please. You’re jealous of the Potter hair and you know it.”

“Me? Jealous? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a bird nest.”

“Excuse you?! Then what do you call your hair soaked in gel?”

“A hairstyle. You should look it up.”

“Why would I? My hair looks fabulous the way it is.”

Malfoy stopped and looked him up and down. “Well, I suppose having constant bed hair has it’s bright side.”

Both of their eyes widened and they blushed.

“You’d know, Malfoy. Your hair was all puffy this morning.”

“Was not!”

“Was too.”

“It was not, Potter. You’re just blind.”

“I took a picture.”

“ What?!? If you did I’ll-”

“Are they always like this?” Cassius asked the other three when Harry and Draco separated from them and went to sit down at the Slytherin table.

“Most of the time. Neither wants to give up, they’re always arguing, but Draco also wants to befriend Harry, so it’s a never-ending circle. He’s also scared shitless of him, so, that helps.”

“Friends?” Cassius snorted. “They’re acting like an old married couple.”

“He wishes,” Blaise muttered under his nose.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Warrington rolled his eyes. “Sure you didn’t. Let’s go. I’m still curious to see what the paper will supposedly bring today.”

Albus Dumbledore - unfit to teach our children?

Yesterday I had the greatest honor to attend the Tri-Wizarding tournament where Four Champions (see pages 6-7-8 for details) went in front of a dragon to retrieve a golden egg.

After the event I went to greet the champions personally when I stumbled upon the most unexpected and disgusting conversation I’ve ever heard.

Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and seemingly a kind man was telling Harry Potter, the youngest champion, that his parents would be ashamed of him for completing the task (the young wizard spoke to dragon in parseltongue - an extremely rare magical gift he was blessed with (more on parseltongue on page 9)). Albus Dumbledore shamed the young champion for using his gift against a dragon and not getting hurt in the process.

Thankfully, Minister Fudge and I showed up just in time, but the damage was done. Young Harry must’ve been extremely hurt by this, as he walked out of there quickly, but not before accusing the headmaster of not caring about students' health and wanting to see them hurt instead of using their inherited gifts.

The headmaster didn’t deny the claims.

Minister Fudge was alarmed at the way the headmaster was treating one of his students, as were other Headmasters, who offered a chance for Harry to transfer to their schools (Beauxbatons and Durmstrang) where he would not face such prejudice for his magical abilities.

I even managed to catch a few students who wished to stay anonymous and asked them a few questions about Hogwarts and A. Dumbledore.

“He’s extremely prejudiced about everything he believes to be dark, even it’s inheritant family trait. In fact, I heard he’s taken out hundreds of books from the library including subjects like Alchemy, Spell Crafting, Warding, Wandless Magic, Magical Theory and many, many more, even Healing and History books! It’s preposterous, as if he doesn’t want us to learn!”

“He hates slytherins and is showing a sickening favoritism towards Gryffindor. It doesn’t matter what they do, a gryffindor can never be wrong. But if you’re a slytherin… I heard students were given detentions by him for talking about our Sacred Holidays. It’s beyond appalling. He is forcing muggle holidays onto us.”

“I think he’s unfit to be a headmaster, let alone other positions he holds. He acts all nice to your face, but he isn’t, unless he favors you. He tends to dismiss any concerns about student safety and health in school. Whenever something happens it’s a ‘small misunderstanding’. I honestly think he doesn’t care.”

“A troll got into the castle a few years ago, and it only continues to get worse. Last year Sirius Black broke in three times and he did nothing. I’m sure after all the incidents he could’ve set up some wards, no?”

It begs the question if Albus Dumbledore is fit to protect our children and offer them adequate education. Such prejudiced and unhinged behaviour states otherwise.

I will leave you to think.

Rita Skeeter

Harry was shocked.

He flipped through the pages, skimming through the article that described the task and gave details about the champions, as well a paragraph about parseltongue, explaining it was one of the sacred abilities that Lady Magic blessed certain bloodlines with, and that in some countries they still worshipped those who possesses the ability. It was incredibly interesting and Harry put a mental note to check it out later, when he had time.

There was absolutely nothing bad said about him in the Prophet, other than portraying him like a hurt little boy, but the point was to hurt Dumbledore and it worked . Beautifully. 

Harry looked around the hall to see horrified faces of students, most of them shooting angry looks at the Head Table and whispering amongst themselves.

The professors were shooting dirty looks at Albus as well, while the headmaster looked completely unbothered.

Skeeter was creating perfect grounds for an investigation on Dumbledore and Harry was certain she will dig up more as the time comes.

“He said what to you?” 

Harry turned around to see fuming Theo, whose fingers were wrapped around the paper so tightly that it tore. In fact, all of them looked furious.

“He’s fucking senile,” Pansy hissed as well. “How dare he-”

“Can you please stop it?” Harry snapped. “Need I remind you that my parents are dead and their opinions don’t matter?”

The slytherins froze and stared at him incredulously.

“What? Oh, please, you said worse to me before.”

“Yeah, but we were… enemies then.”

Harry smirked at Draco’s unsure tone. As if he’d say ‘ we’re still enemies, Draco, everything we did together doesn’t count and was a cruel prank ’.

“Stop taunting Draco, Harry. He’ll break.” Zabini said as he passed around the croissants. “He’s not wrong though. We are your friends - or I’m hoping that you view us as such - but it doesn’t erase the fact that what Dumbledore said to you is horrible and inexcusable. We are angry on your behalf. ” Blaise added to explain, after Harry’s still slightly confused look. 

“As he said,” Theo motioned to Blaise. “You have a gift , something so rare and precious that the world sees as a blessing from Lady Magic herself and will most likely hound you over for in the upcoming years.” Harry looked confused again and the boy sighed. “Parseltongue is extremely rare, I’m sure you know that. It’s also a different branch of magic that could potentially be a breakthrough in many studies, including curse breaking. I’m sure you’ll be getting many letters from those who work in Egypt, asking for help. There are rumors that pyramids hide secret passageways that can be opened only by a parselmouth.”

Harry was surprised to hear this and incredibly intrigued at the same time. Tom never mentioned anything alike, although Tom didn’t have the knowledge Voldemort did. He wondered if Voldemort actually ever stepped a foot into a pyramid and found what’s hidden there. He most certainly would.

And he had a hard time understanding how they could be so passionately angry on his behalf. It was a new kind of experience. Not unwanted, just... new.

It was also a relief not having to explain his every step and make excuses for his abilities, as he had to do in the past. Justifying it at every turn. It was so exhausting.

“Great, you’re now giving him even more dangerous ideas,” Draco muttered to Theo, noticing the exciting glimmer in Harry’s eyes.

“You think Voldemort ever explored the pyramids?” Harry asked casually, as everyone around him flinched at the name. He rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop it. It’s not like your parents don’t work for him.” He sighed at the looks he was getting. 

“Of course they don’t, Harry-”

“Yeah, the Dark Lord is dead, Potter. You should know, you killed him.” Flint sneered at him from aside, flinching when Harry glared at the boy.

“Your precious Dark Lord is neither dead nor gone, Flint . Trust me.” Harry’s smile turned bloodthirsty for a moment and the boy flinched. “I would know.” He turned back to Theo. “I’m still curious though,” and he had no way to satiate his curiosity. It’s not like he can just waltz up to the wizard and ask, not when he’s bloody insane. “If anyone starts sending me letters, I’ll just redirect them to the Dark Lord so he can deal with all of them.” And wouldn’t that be hilarious? His friends didn’t seem to think so, if their horrified faces was anything to go by. “Oh, relax. I get your point, Theo. The coot was out of line.”

They seemed to relax slightly that Harry stopped his wonderings about the Dark Lord and went back to their original point.

“More than out of line, he shamed you because you dared to publicly use your gift!” Draco looked ready to go to war. 

“He what?” Cassius asked sharply.

“Oh, yes, Skeeter didn’t add this, but he was furious, because Harry demonstrated such a dark gift publicly.”

“Merlin forbid his light savior tarnishes his oblivious idiot image,” Harry muttered. “I’ll bloody show him dark,” he turned to glare at Dumbledore. He had just a perfect curse in mind.

Harry smiled.

“He looks like he’s going to murder someone,” Cassius murmured with a slight excitement showing on his face.

“Let’s just hope it’s Dumbledore,” Blaise added. He too noticed Harry’s expression.

“I have somewhere to be, see you all at potions,” Harry shot them all a manic grin and hopped off the stall, leaving the Great Hall with a small sprint in his step.

“He’s definitely going to do something insane,” Theodore said, receiving nods in return. “I didn’t imagine that look on his face, did I?”

“No, it was there, alright. Wanna bet on what he’ll do?” Pansy asked.

“You don’t honestly believe Harry will hurt someone, right?” Cassius frowned.

Pucey snorted. “I highly doubt that. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

The other four shared a look.

“What? It’s Potter, for Merlin’s sake. He may be a parselmouth, but there’s no way he’s dark or anything,” the seventh year argued.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Pucey,” Theo warned. “You’ve only been around for a day. Harry may not be some gryffindor light hero he pretends to be, but don’t mistaken him for some weakling. He’ll snap your neck faster than you could blink.”

“Yeah right,” the boy tried to laugh it off, but serious expressions of fourth years were making him uneasy. “Right?”

“Pay attention and you might just find out. We won’t betray his trust for you, Pucey.” Draco warned him.

“Is this because he’s a parselmouth?” the boy scoffed. “Supposed Slytherin Heir and all?”

“Not only that, no,” Theo said. “It’s because he’s more powerful than all of us combined and quite frankly, we like him. And personally, I have no intention of bringing his ire onto myself; I like breathing, thankyouverymuch .”

“And he most likely is Slytherin’s Heir. Come on, a parselmouth, manipulative as fuck and more slytherin than most of us, has a snake familiar and I’m certain he visits the Chamber of Secrets quite often. What other kind of proof do we need?” 

Cassius nodded. “That’s true.”

Pucey looked unconvinced. “He’s a half-blood.”

“And he could snap you like a twig,” Blaise sneered. “Don’t make an enemy out of him, Pucey. We will not help you.”

“Fine. I still don’t trust him. What if it’s all a ploy to rat us out to Dumbledore?”

Draco couldn’t help it and laughed out loud.

“Are you honestly that stupid, Pucey?” he looked at the boy with pity. “He threatened Dumbledore yesterday, in front of everyone, including Fudge. I’m sure he has Dumbledore as number one on his hit-list.”

“Then why wasn’t it in the papers?” Flint joined the conversation, a contemplative look on his face.

Pansy giggled. “He has something on Skeeter. Poor witch looked terrified of him. You must’ve noticed there was not a bad word about Potter this whole time.”

Pucey’s and Warrington’s eyes widened. Just who exactly was Harry Potter? The more they heard, the more they realized they knew nothing about the boy.

“Intriguing, isn’t it?” Theo’s eyes shined with mirth. “This is the most exciting year we’ve had and it’s all because of one Harry Potter.”

“Imagine what would’ve happened if he was sorted into Slytherin during the first year,” Blaise said wishfully. 

“Why wasn’t he? You said something yesterday about manipulating the hat?” Cassius asked curiously.

Theo nodded. “Yep. The hat wanted him in Slytherin, but Harry managed to persuade it to put him into Gryffindor. He said it was safer because of Dumbledore. And Draco annoyed him the first time around.”

All eyes turned to the blond, who reddened significantly. “He said no such thing!”

“He said he didn’t want to be in Slytherin, because you were whining all the time and it was getting on his nerves.”

Draco gaped and crossed his arms, turning away from Blaise, the traitor, who just continued to grin while others snickered. “Don’t get your knickers in the twist, Draco. He likes you now, otherwise you’d end up like Granger or Weasel.”

“Was it true he cursed them?” Pucey looked intrigued.

“Perhaps,” Theo grinned. “Oh, speak of the devil,” he motioned towards the entrance, where those two just entered, looking around their table and then turned to them.

“He’s coming our way,” Pansy said, as Weasley marched towards them, looking furious.

“What do you want, Weasel?”

“Where’s Harry, you dirty snakes? I know you did something to him! Turned him dark! And he didn’t come back last night! What kind of dark rituals were you doing on him, huh?! You forced him to- to speak that cursed tongue! In front of everyone!”

“Are you out of your mind, Weasel?” Blaise stared at the boy incredulously. “Perhaps he didn’t want to look at you, looking like some hobo. Maybe take a shower or something.”

"And parseltongue is a blessing, you uneducated git. Pick up a book or something. That is, if you can read."

The boy reddened in fury. “You stole my friends and you’ll pay for that, you filthy death eaters! Where is he!?”

It seemed like the whole dining hall fell silent.

“You betrayed him, Weasel.” Draco glared at the gryffindor. “Harry doesn’t need some filthy traitor as a friend. Merlin, you tried to attack him the other day and got detention for it! What’s next? Will you try to strangle him in his sleep?”

Ronald was shaking in anger and went to pull out his wand.

“Not so fast, Weasley,” a cold tone( drawled and the boy froze. Snape was standing just a few feet away from him. “Touch that wand and you’ll be in detention with Filch for a whole month.”

“I didn’t do anything! They-”

“You are causing a ruckus in the middle of the Great Hall over your own jealousy, Mr Weasley, and have already cursed my students. Twenty five points from Gryffindor.”

“It’s them!”

“Them?” Snape’s eyebrows shot up. “My students have done nothing. Now be gone before I take more points. And for Merlin’s sake, clean up your attire, Mr Weasley. If you show up like this in my class, I’ll give you detention.”

Students around them snickered. Enraged, Ron turned abruptly and left.

Snape turned to his slytherins.

“Is there anything I should know?”

“No, sir. Everything is fine.”

“And… Mr Potter’s implied absence yesterday..? Anything… nefarious?”

“No, sir. He was with us.” Draco’s face pinkened slightly. 

Snape’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded.

“Good. Come with me to my office, Draco, I have something to speak with you about. The rest of you, do not be late.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is something wrong, uncle Sev?” Draco asked, looking nervously at his godfather. He sincerely hoped it wasn't about the firewhiskey, or his father would hear about it.

“No, Draco, calm yourself. I’d just like to know what transpired yesterday.” Snape pursed his lips, seeing right through Draco’s fake confused look. “Spare me the lies; I know there was a party in the common room and for some reason Weasley believes that you’ve corrupted their Boy-Who-Lived.”

“He’s just looking for a fight and was pissed off.”

“Was Harry with you yesterday? Truly?”

Draco crossed his arms defensively. “Yes. It’s not against the rules.”

“Technically, you aren’t supposed to bring students from other houses, Draco.”

“Well, technically he’s not really a gryffindor now, is he?” Snape’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t argue. “And besides, nobody brought Harry to the common room. When we arrived, he was already there.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Draco shrugged. “He knew where the entrance was. And, before you ask, he doesn’t need a password to get in. He’s a parselmouth, Sev. It grants him the right of passage.”

Snape swore. “Of course it does. It’s Potter. What did I expect, really?” Snape looked like he’s been asking himself this daily for the last four years. “How in Merlin’s name did he find out where the entrance is?”

“No idea. He likes being vague and creepy with his answers. I personally believe he enjoys watching us squirm.”

“ That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Was he there with you all night? From Weasley’s annoying blabbering I gathered he didn’t go back to his dorms last night and Minerva will most certainly be bugging me about this later.”

“Yes, he was there. Left this morning before breakfast.”

Snape’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

Draco reddened considerably. “Nothing happened, Merlin. You’re worse than my mother.”

“Trust me, Draco, I’d rather not know if something of that sort happened at all. I’m already having a hard enough time chasing Potter enough as it is; he’s been evading me perfectly. It’s annoying.”

“Why are you chasing him then?”

“Don’t be daft. I want answers. Questions are piling up like hippogriffs dung and the damn boy keeps slipping through my fingers. On another note, do you actually like Potter?”

“He’s my friend, of course I like him."

"That's now how I meant."

"Oh, I know how you meant and I... don't know. He’s… different than before. Whatever masks he’s been wearing are gone and… it’s kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Draco's eyes glittered with delight and Severus had to hold in a sight. This was a recipe for a disaster, he just knew.

“Not the word I’d use.”

“Oh, come on, Sev. Have you seen the papers? He’s targeting Dumbledore and so far has done more damage to him with that one article than my father has managed in years.”

Snape nodded, knowing it to be true, but he was worried about another thing too. 

“And how is he faring? What the old fool said must’ve… done some damage.”

And Severus was damn furious too.

He doubted the boy for not telling him about his plan, about evading his help and giving snarky answers in return, but he was damn proud that Potter used his brain for once and didn’t get hurt. Hell, he spoke to a dragon. Everyone was beyond impressed; Charles Weasley even looked for the boy, so he could translate what dragons were saying for them, but they weren’t able to find him. Obviously, nobody even thought to look in the Slytherin common room, where Potter spend the whole night . Snape shuddered to think what must’ve transpired there, and honestly, he was better off not knowing.

But the point was, Potter used parseltongue to his advantage and he won.

And that old bastard dared to tell the boy to his face that his parents would be ashamed of him.

Severus wasn’t surprised of the outrage it caused.

His colleagues were outright berating Albus when he left to shoo Weasley away. A good thing too, because he wasn’t sure he could control his itchy fingers and not curse the old man where he sat.

One thing for sure, Lily would’ve been proud of Harry. She would’ve been his most avid supporter, and that old goat dared to put doubts about it in the boy’s mind.

“He’s… well, he doesn’t seem affected, Sev. Perhaps a bit hesitant, but he said it didn’t matter what they would’ve thought, because they were dead anyway.” Snape winced at this. “I think… He may have doubts deep inside, but he’d never show it to any of us, at least not while our… friendship is so new. Either way, this didn’t stop him from telling the old coot that his parents would’ve been proud he survived and that he wants Harry to fail. You should’ve seen it, Sev. Harry knew exactly what to say to cause enough damage. In front of the Minister too! He said Dumbledore's prejudice was showing. Merlin. It was spectacular.”

Snape was nodding along the way. He’s going to have to speak with the boy. Merlin knows Minerva wouldn't. "Would you be willing to show me the memory later?"

"Sure."

Harry may have changed or stopped hiding himself, or whatever it is this change was, but he was still a boy. One he swore to protect and Severus couldn’t do that if he didn’t know where Harry stood. What he was hiding.

If he was alright.

“Watch out for him, Draco. I too will speak to him after the lesson. Where is he now?”

“No clue. He said he had somewhere to be and looked slightly… unhinged.” Snape snorted. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just curious to see how much more unhinged can Potter become. Oh, which reminds me: has he ever mentioned the attack to you?"

"You mean the one that left him hospitalized?" Snape nodded. "No. Whatever happened, he kept it to himself. I have a feeling he knows exactly what happened, but won't be telling anyone."

"And why is that? Why wouldn't he tell someone who hurt him like that?"

Draco shrugged.

"I don't know, Sev. The only thing he said that it's for him to know and for us to guess. I believe he either doesn't trust us with that kind of information or it involved something highly illegal. Or maybe he was just being cryptic. I don't know."

Snape contemplated the information. If Potter did something illegal, which meant dark, dabbled in something that caused that kind of damage, of course the boy would keep it quiet and claim ignorance. He wasn't stupid, just... reckless.

"We will speak more later, Draco. If something happens, find me. Now go to class.”

Harry was standing at the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets, staring at the sink with a little snake as if willing it to come alive and give him life advice.

He'd like one right now.

He wanted- no , needed to get down there and get his invisibility cloak and the map, but now? When he was finally at the entrance? He wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave.

Yesterday he imagined marching down there, like a wrathful God, cursing Riddle to hell and back, taking his things and leaving. Where was his courage now?

"Oh. It's you."

Harry turned to see Moaning Myrtle floating above the window.

"Oh. It's you." He mimicked.

She sneered. "What? Came to mock Myrtle again? Ten points for the arm, twenty for the belly, thirty for-"

"Merlin, do you ever shut up?" Harry snapped at the ghost, not in the mood for this mindless annoying chatter. "If you were like this when alive then no wonder no one visits you, for fucks sake."

Myrtle screeched at him.

"Get out, get out, GET OUT!" She wailed as she flew into her toilet, splashing the contents everywhere. Harry was lucky enough to raise a quick shield.

"It just proves my point." He muttered, looking at the snake one more time before leaving. He can come back later anyway. 

He has Potions.

“Mr Potter, stay after class.”

Harry felt a sense of foreboding.

It’s not like he can say no to Snape, unless he literally makes a run for it.

He really hoped it’s not about the tournament or the paper.

He was sick of hearing about it.

When the class emptied, Harry saw Draco and Theo hesitating at the door. Snape noticed as well and sighed deeply.

“I will not kill Mr Potter. Can you now please leave and shut the door? I'll send a note to Pomona in case this takes too long.”

The boys reddened, but nodded and left, shooting one last glance at Harry.

Not suspicious at all. 

It was funny, though, how all the slytherins were trying to be on his good side since Samhain and pry into his business.

Annoying pricks. 

Good friends.

“What do you need, professor?”

Snape gave him a long and hard look. Harry struggled not to squirm under it.

“Come with me, please.” Then the professor led Harry to his office and told him to sit down in one of the plush armchairs, then offered tea .

Alright, what was going on?

“How are you doing, Harry?” Snape asked after a few minutes of simply sipping the tea.

Harry blinked. Then did so again, just staring at the professor in sheer disbelief.

“Did someone die? Or something horrible happened?” Harry blurred out.

Snape reached an incredible in-between emotion of being done and smirking.

“No, nothing of that sort. I just wished to… have a conversation with you and now seemed like the best time to catch you before you slip away again.” Harry huffed. “Oh, don’t act like I didn’t know what you were doing, Harry. I’m not the Head of Slytherin for nothing.”

Harry huffed again and crossed his arms, doing his best ‘this is above a Malfoy’ expression.

He heard Snape snort and turned to glare at the man.

This was ridiculous.

“What did you wish to speak about, sir?”

“Well, firstly I wish to congratulate you on a splendidly performed task yesterday. You certainly had a strategy, I… apologize for doubting your word.”

"Thank you, sir, but are you feeling alright?" It wasn't like Snape to just ask people that.

"Brat. I am fine, I'll let you know. Now, I'd like to know how you are doing."

"Fine."

Snape glared.

"Alright, we'll do all the questions directly then. First of all, how is your health? Any problems with your magic?"

"Nope. Just as I told everyone before the task. And it's not like I did some otherworldly magic to tire me."

Snape nodded. "And how are you feeling? I hope you can tell me the truth; we all read the papers and many professors' expressed their concern."

"Fine." Snape gave him a pointed glare. "I am! Yes, Dumbledore was being an unreasonable bastard and- and I understand what he said was wrong, but… but I never knew my parents. For all I know he's right." Harry struggled a bit with this possibility, but in the end he couldn't live on expectations of dead parents. He needs to carve his own path. "It doesn't matter, really. Their opinions, whatever they might be, will not stop me from being myself. I'm not going to cave under the pretense of my parents' shame."

Emotions flashed through the professor's face. Anger. Smugness. Pride. Rage. Sadness .

"Harry-" he said his name so softly, like never before. For some reason, this startled Harry the most. "Your parents would've been proud of you. You went against a dragon and won. You spoke to it. It's a feast no one has ever done before. Even the Dark Lord never entertained this idea. Harry, your parents would've been proud. " 

Snape was looking so intently at him as if willing him to believe these words on conviction alone.

"How sure of that are you? You heard the coo- ah, Dumbledore. He believes it's a dark gift, something that should be hidden. I mean, sure, it's a complete and utter bull - I told you I'm proud of this ability and will use it to my full advantage, but it doesn't erase the fact that my parents believed it to be… bad. Especially with the Dark Lord going around and hissing at everyone."

Harry's never seen Snape's face look so… well, he looked constipated.

And speechless.

Hah! He must be the first to achieve that. Harry patted himself on the back for great work.

" -going around hissing at everyone, he says- " Snape muttered under his nose. The man looked like he was getting a headache. "Merlin's beard, Potter. Although you're not entirely wrong." Oh ? "I'm glad to hear that the headmaster's opinions didn't cause you to… lose your beliefs. Now, it may come as a shock, but I knew your mother when we were in school, and I can tell you with absolute certainty that she would've never judged you for being a parselmouth. In fact, I think she would've nagged you to hell and back to translate conversations. She was rather fond of garden snakes we used to find outside. Terrified her family when she would carry them around."

Harry smiled at this. The image of Petunia screeching while his mother chased her with a snake was absolutely brilliant. Then his mood soured. 

"And let me guess; my father would've named me the next Dark Lord?" Harry gritted through his teeth, although the shock that Snape knew his mother still hasn't worn off.

"Perhaps. He was… adverse to anything dark. Especially later in life."

Harry wondered if James had compulsions riddening him. He was a pureblood, surely he had more sense than to believe that dark magic doesn't equals evil?

"You knew my mother?" Harry's voice definitely didn't shook. He decided to ignore his father for now. So far, he hasn’t heard so much good about him, and Snape clearly loathed him, if his constant insults were anything to go by.

Snape inclined his head.

"Yes. In fact, she was my closest friend." Harry's eyes went impossibly wide. "We grew up next to each other, and I was the one to tell her that the miracles she was performing were actually magic."

"You- you-" Harry was having some sort of out of body experience, he was certain. "Youtold her?"

"Yes." Snape chuckled. "In fact, she went off on me for calling her a witch."

Harry's lips unconsciously curled into a smile.

He knew exactly how this would've gone in a muggle world. His mother most likely believed that her friend cursed at her.

"Tell me more. Please." Harry grabbed the cup and brought it to his lips in order to hide his emotions and slightly trembling hands.

This was not something he thought he'd hear when coming to this office. He fully expected interrogation or even some sort of snide remarks for being in the paper again - but not to be told about his mother.

And he was secretly appreciative of it.

"I don't know anything about her apart from having the same eyes as me and being good at charms." And it was true. It was the only thing people said about her, along being brave, and with time these words soured. It felt as if no one actually knew her well enough to say something meaningful. 

But Snape did. He knew her, supposedly. Surely, he won't deprive Harry of this information?

“How can you not know anything else? Have your guardians not said anything? I find this hard to believe.”

“My… guardians told me different kinds of stories about my parents, professor. Now would you mind?”

Snape’s eyes narrowed.

“And what exactly did they tell you, Mr Potter?”

“That’s not important.”

“I think it is, and I admit to being quite curious to know. Surely they told you all about your parents' heroics? Albus assured us that you were well informed.”

Harry felt as if someone had slapped him.

Is that why nobody bothered to tell him anything? 

No bloody introduction to a completely new world, no bloody pamphlet on do’s and don’t’s, nothing!

Surely Hagrid told someone that Harry didn’t know anything prior to coming here; he was the biggest blabbermouth this world has seen, unless… unless Dumbledore had something to do with it. If the old man has been spreading lies about Harry to the staff, or at least to Snape to keep them complacent…

Fucking hell.

It made so much sense.

“-Harry?” 

Harry snapped out of his slightly murderous thoughts and his eyes snapped back to Snape, who looked a bit worried.

“Well, I’m going to inform you, professor, that that bloody senile old bastard has been lying to you and probably everyone else, seeing as meddling is a favorite hobby of his.” Snape was too shocked to reprimand him for referring to Dumbledore like that. But Harry honestly didn’t care and was on a roll. “You want to know what my wonderful relatives have told me?” Harry leaned in so much closer, eyes burning with hatred. “They told me my parents were drunks . That my mother was a whore and father was a pimp. That they were freaks who got blown up in a car crash and then they were forced to take me in." Harry leaned back down, his eyes feeling dangerously teary. He needed to leave. "And they never let me forget it ever since." 

Harry felt raw.

He never, not once told this to anyone, and here he was, telling everything to Snape like a bloody idiot -

He hoped Snape didn't lace his tea with some shit, because then Harry will turn the man into an actual bat without a way to turn back, that git.

"I hope you're satisfied with your bloody answers, Snape." Harry stood up, not wanting to hear another word from the man, be it about his mother or not. He felt too overwhelmed at this moment. "And I sincerely hope this conversation won't be leaving this room, or I'll set a few snakes loose in these quarters. Have a good day." And he walked off, leaving a speechless Potions professor behind.

Severus Snape was reeling in shock.

After Potter left - ran, really - he couldn't even move; just sat there and blinked into space as his mind struggled to process new information. 

-mother was a whore and father was a pimp-

-they were freaks-

-got blown up-

-forced to take me in-

-never let me forget it-

It painted a horrible picture, one Severus didn't want to prod at, but he knew he had to. If not to sate his own curiosity, then for Harry's benefit.

Red flags were popping right and left and middle, and Severus was almost afraid of what he's going to find out once he digs deeper, which he will.

After shock wore off, fury set in.

Whoever Harry was left with called Lily - his wonderful, kind Lily - a whore. A freak .

This was unforgivable, almost as much as the fact that this is what Harry knew of his parents all his life.

Those words also indicated that Harry wasn't as spoiled as Severus believed him to be. Was it all a lie? 

Why would Albus-- what is he thinking, of course he'd lie to keep him calm. If Severus knew that Harry was unwell, uncared for, his oath would demand him to act, otherwise… if he saw the boy as spoiled and arrogant, each of his action a seek of attention… then he'd never dig deeper, never actually try to see what's going on, never try to save Harry.

Merlin .

What had Harry called him? Senile old bastard? Strikingly accurate.

"Ten points to Potter," Severus muttered.

He was being manipulated by the old coot and didn't even notice it.

To think of it now, Albus always rubbed it in on how much like his father Harry was, how spoiled and loved, and that's exactly what Severus started believing, ignoring all the signs.

And he called himself observant.

"I'm a bloody fool."

Severus stood up and went to his cabinet, pouring himself a glass of firewhiskey and drowning it in one go.

The deeper he dug, the darker the hole seemed.

Who were these relatives Harry was staying with? He needs to find out, so he can visit them and find out the truth.

With the way Harry has run off to, Severus doubted the boy would open up to him and tell him who they are. No, Harry needed some space.

But Severus was patient. He can wait. And eventually he'll find out everything Potter was hiding.

Protecting the brat was becoming increasingly difficult.

Fuck his life. 

But in the mean time, he should contact Lucius. That man could dig up things people would rather keep hidden like nobody's business.

Harry skipped the rest of Herbology - Snape supposedly sent a note anyway - and proceeded to skip lunch as well.

At least it would stop people from gawking at him.

He absolutely loathed the pitying looks he got, and some students in the hallways even stopped him to say he has their support. 

What in Merlin’s name is he supposed to do with their support?

Honestly, he liked those who ran away from him and called him the next Dark Lord more. At least they had some spine, even if it was made completely out of fear. It was way better than pity.

He went to the Room of Requirement and proceeded to take a nap, feeling rather emotionally wrung out after the thrice damned, way too curious for his own good, Snape session. The man was unrelenting in haunting him. At least when Snape was nasty to Harry, he would never question things, but now? Snape was digging shit up. Shit that Harry didn't want uncovered. He was prying into Harry's personal shit and it was worrying, because Snape was bloody smart, even if he's a right git at times. The man wouldn't have survived being a spy if he was an idiot, and Harry was dreading the day Snape found out things he shouldn't.

If only he could obliviate the man of the last conversation. 

It wasn't possible, however. Not really. Not when he was such a strong occlumens.

Fuck Harry's life.

The nap was the best idea he's ever had.

And fuck - he was almost late to Transfiguration. And that was when he was told about the bloody Yule dance.

The dancing lessons were a nightmare. 

Harry felt awkward and wanted to bolt the second McGonagall announced they needed to find a partner to practice with.

Girls were… Harry didn't know what they were doing, but they looked fucking creepy. Just leering at him through lashes, blinking so fast Harry thought they’d start seizing at any given moment - which looked dumb, in his opinion. Most looked cross-eyed. 

"Come on, Potter. Allow me to save you, before you bolt out of there and set everyone on fire in the process."

Harry turned to see Daphne Greengrass, fourth year ravenclaw standing in front of him.

From what he's heard from Draco and Pansy's gossip machine, she was meant to be a slytherin, but chose Ravenclaw instead. Her family was grey/dark alienated and that's all Harry knew.

"Oh? Was I so obvious?"

She smirked.

"To me, yes."

"Were you observing me then?"

She grabbed his hands and put them in their respective places. "Lady doesn't kiss and tell."

Oh, she was definitely a bit of a slytherin. Harry grinned. 

"Well, if you say so. I must warn you though, I have no idea how to dance."

"I'm sure you'll do better than your housemates, Potter. Win-win situation. Now let's practice."

It didn't go too bad, but Harry felt out of place. Uncomfortable. 

But Daphne kept others at bay, and it was a relief. Only the purebloods seemed to know how to dance, bar Weasley- he was tripping and making a fool of himself all the time. Poor Granger. She must have no toes left to step on anymore.

"Hm, Potter?" Harry turned back to Greengrass, feeling like squirming under her intense gaze, but he refused to. "What?" He asked.

"How would you feel dancing with a male partner?" Harry's eyes widened. "Just a thought! You still seem rather uncomfortable with me. I thought maybe you'd like someone… else."

Harry felt his cheeks heat up, but he kept his expression blank.

"I'm not sure. I guess I’m really not into… dancing. This lesson is almost over anyway."

Daphne nodded curtly, not saying anything else and Harry was glad she didn't push the issue.

Was she implying he liked boys?

Did he like boys?

Harry never really thought about it.

Girls were… well, Harry never had any real experience with a girl. He supposed they were… nice? He liked Cho Chang for a bit, but she was so bloody dense for a ravenclaw and annoying in general, it quickly wore off. He probably liked her because she was on a quidditch team.

And that was it, really. He tried to think about girls like that , but it… it felt weird and like thinking of a piece of wood. Unattractive. 

As if for boys… well-

Let's see, Theo was nice. He was observant and wasn’t annoying and had this calm demeanor. Draco was kind of cool, now that Harry got to know him better, and a decent friend. He had really soft hair; Harry ran his fingers through it after he woke up with Draco the morning after the party, but he'll never admit that. But he had nothing compared to Tom, who was just ridiculously handsome and--  wait a goddamned minute. Why was he thinking of Tom ?!?

Ridiculous handso- oh, fuck no. 

Nope.

Absolutely fucking not.

This was a bloody dangerous zone and Harry just walked right into the trap.

He believed Riddle to be handsome . What's worse, the more his thoughts strayed, the more attributes of Tom he found he liked , which was a nightmare and Harry- Harry cannot deal with this.

"Are you alright?" Greengrass asked him, snapping Harry out of his realization , this horrible, glaringly obvious fact that not only did Harry bloody Potter liked boys , he liked the baby Dark Lord.

Me thinks a little breakdown was in order.

"Yes. Fine." He answered, voice strained, feeling as if he needed air.

"You look a bit… pale."

"Just peachy. Need some air. Class will be over in a minute."

Greengrass nodded, unconvinced.

Thank Merlin neither of them were legilimence and couldn't see Harry's sudden sexuality crisis.

Because it most certainly was a crisis.

After the lesson was over, Harry was one of the firsts out of the door as he ran into the Room of Requirement, where he proceeded to face-plant into the bed and scream.

I'm attracted to Tom bloody Riddle.

Fuck me.

I shouldn't have come here and you got this,Harry, were ringing in his head as Harry proceeded to enter the Chamber.

There was still time to run.

But you got this far already. Grab your shit, Potter.

Way too soon he was in front of the doors of the Slytherin Rooms. One door between him, Riddle and his things.

His heart was pounding in his ears.

You got this, Potter. You're a gryffindor. A fake one, but one nonetheless. 

He reached for the door handle, sudden panic gripping him.

What if it's like the last time?

What if Tom does something? Rips magic out of him?

It hurt - Merlin, more than anything.

What if it happens again?

But what if it doesn't?

Harry inhaled deeply and pushed the door open.

He was subconsciously expecting something horrifying, but it was… just a room.

Nothing unusual.

His cloak was on the chair, map and Riddle’s diary next to each other and on the table.

Harry strode in, grabbing his cloak first, and then for the map when-

"Harry, I'm sorry."

He whirled around and saw Tom standing just a few feet away from him, a sorrowful expression on his face.

Harry's insides froze for a moment before fury overcame his whole being.

"I had no idea-"

Slap!

Tom reeled back in shock, while Harry glared at the older boy and grabbed his map.

"Sorry? You're sorry ?!" Harry sounded slightly hysterical. "It's a miracle you didn't off me, you bloody sodding bastard." He turned for the door, fuming like a dragon. He was leaving. 

"Harry-"

" No !" Harry turned only to glare. "I'm really fucking pissed at you, Riddle, and don't want to hear your excuses. I'm just here for my things . And you can sod off."

With that Harry marched out of the room and slammed the door for a good measure, completely missing a look of shock and alarm on Tom's face, as he cradled his reddened cheek.

The bastard deserved it.