Until The End

Until The End

Chapter 27: The Duelling Club

"The secret of getting ahead is getting started…"

Ron Weasley's P.O.V:

Potions Classroom – Wednesday, December 9th, 1992 (10:30 a.m.)

"Did you know about Lockhart's duelling club?" Tracey asked as Ron added one bat spleen to their swelling potion, which was simmering in Tracey's cauldron. "Theo spotted a leaflet about it on the noticeboard back at the common room."

"Hmm?" Ron asked, stirring the potion in an anti-clockwise direction. "Oh yeah, that. Lockhart told me and Xavier about it last week."

"Seems exciting, doesn't it?" Tracey pointed out, her eyes lighting up with joy. "Lockhart will be mentoring us! You and Xavier are probably gassed about it, right?"

"If it were Snape or Flitwick teaching us, then yeah, Xavier and I would think of nothing but the duelling club," Ron scoffed, and Tracey rolled his eyes.

"Lockhart is competent, I'm telling you," Tracey assured stubbornly. "He doesn't have all those titles for nothing, you know."

"Pfft, whatever you say, Trace," Ron replied nonchalantly. "Lockhart is an inept tart, you ought to know that by now. Snape wouldn't indulge in 'foolish wand waving' as he likes to say and would actually educate us on the important principles of duelling. As for Flitwick, he would probably give us more insight into it and teach us to recognise the way the opponent duels. I even heard Flitwick was a duelling champion in his former years."

"Relax with the accreditation," Tracey huffed, turning the heat to low. "Your tone seems to imply that you could singlehandedly best Professor Lockhart in a duel."

"I dunno," Ron paused to muse over the thought. "Maybe…"

"Alright, now you're getting ahead of yourself there, Ron," Tracey chuckled, shaking her head. "Just because you fired some flashy spells last week doesn't make you Albus Dumbledore all of a sudden."

"You don't think so?" Ron challenged with a broad grin. "Alright then, I'll ask Lockhart to make you and me duel in front of the whole school."

"And embarrass me in front of all the lads and Lockhart?" Tracey playfully replied. "No chance, Weasley. Besides, you do seem to know a great deal about jinxes and hexes."

"Eh, Xavier and I practise a lot in our spare time," Ron responded with a shrug.

"Why?" Tracey questioned curiously, waving her wand over the potion. "Why do you guys train so much? I mean, I'm sure knowing different spells would be cool and all, but it's almost like you two are training with a specific intent." Absolutely… that Dark Lord bastard is still out there… my visions have proved to me that a war is forthcoming… I must ready myself and training is the beginning of my preparation…

"Ron?" Tracey called, and Ron snapped out of his thoughts. "You zoned out on me."

"Sorry, Trace," Ron replied absent-mindedly. His stare was no longer focused on the potion, but rather on Harry. The bespectacled boy was shooting him frantic looks and Ron understood.

Ron then looked over to the workstation adjacent to his and locked eyes with Xavier. Ron shot him a nod and Xavier sent one back. Xavier then whispered something in Neville's ear and the Gryffindor boy's brow furrowed deeply. He swivelled his head in the direction of Hermione. Hermione was impatiently tapping her foot as she shot Harry sharp looks. It's going to happen any second…

Ron observed Harry ducking behind his workstation and the scrawny boy pulled out a Filibuster Firework from the inner pockets of his school robes that he had lent from Fred and George, and Ron quickly seized Tracey's hand, startling the brunette girl.

"Ron, what's wrong?" Tracey quickly enquired.

"Tracey, back away from the potion," Ron instructed firmly.

"Why-"

A sudden explosion followed by a tumult of cries and groans broke out in the classroom, and Ron covered Tracey protectively. It appeared that once Harry had set off the firework, he had lobbed it straight into Goyle's cauldron, effectively rinsing anyone close by to Crabbe and Goyle's workstation with the Swelling Solution. Fuck, I hope none of my lot got hit with the potion…

"What the hell?" Tracey gasped in shock. Snape was moving around swiftly, attempting to maintain calm and order to the classroom. In the corner of Ron's eye, he saw Hermione sneak off to the cupboards. Please, Merlin, let this work…

The Gryffindors were cackling boisterously to themselves as none of them had been targeted.

"What just happened?" Theo yelled in confusion from across the classroom as Blaise scanned the room closely.

"No idea, mate," Ron shouted back, feigning puzzlement.

Ron was filled with amusement when he caught sight of Malfoy's head, which had swelled to the size of a balloon. Serves you right, wanker…

That feeling of amusement morphed into one of guilt when he saw Millie showing her red, bloated hand to Professor Snape. Shite, I hope Millie's alright…

Fortunately, none of his other friends had been hit, and when he saw Hermione return with the contents patently in her pockets, he was flooded with respite. Brilliant, everything's gone to plan.

"Merlin, do you reckon Millie's alright?" Tracey asked worriedly as Daphne and Pansy were at Millie's side. "Who was behind all of this?"

"Search me," Ron replied, pretending to scour the classroom in suspicion. "I'm just glad it didn't get Millie as it did with Malfoy and his stooges. Look at Crabbe and Goyle!"

Unashamedly, Ron and Tracey broke into fits of silent laughter when they saw how Crabbe's head kept drooping due to how heavy his nose had become and how Goyle's eyes had widened to the size of dinner plates.

"Silence!" Professor Snape snapped and all noise ceased. "Those who have been hit with the Swelling Solution, form a line at my desk immediately as I will provide a Deflating Draught. Mark my words, when I figure out the perpetrator behind this, serious consequences will be enforced." Bloody hell… he's gazing right at Harry! This man's hatred for Harry does not help in this case, especially since Harry was the one who threw the Filibuster Firework into Goyle's cauldron.

As a line formed with Deandre Montgomery at the front, whose shoulder had inflated in size, Tracey turned to Ron with a questioning look.

"Ron, how did you know something was about to happen?" Tracey dropped her voice to a whisper, and Ron cocked an eyebrow. "You warned me to move away from the cauldron. You knew something was going to happen, didn't you?"

"What? No, Tracey," Ron denied briskly. "I saw Harry acting dodgy and thought that-"

"So, Potter orchestrated all of this?" Tracey interjected with wide eyes. Ron nearly smacked his own forehead. Ron, you idiot!

"I dunno," Ron tried to answer. "I didn't see him do anything-"

"Ron, I can tell that you're lying," Tracey huffed exasperatedly. "Is this some scheme you have going on with Potter? Because it was downright stupid, and Millie was caught in the crossfire of it. What if the Swelling Solution had caused her more pain or even hit the rest of us?"

"Why are you assuming that I had something to do with this?" Ron demanded, schooling his shame.

"Why were you lying to me?" Tracey shot back, narrowing her eyes at Ron.

"I wasn't lying," Ron groaned in frustration. "Like I said-"

"I presume that your potion is ready for inspection by the idle chit-chat you two are indulging in?" Snape's cold voice interrupted them.

"Yes, professor," Tracey answered hastily; she had no desire to earn the Potion master's ire today.

Professor Snape lowered his head and silently scrutinised their potion and after a moment, he nodded curtly and said, "It's well done. You may clear your station."

Ron and Tracey simultaneously released a sigh of relief and began to clear their workstation as Snape moved over to Xavier and Neville's workstation.

"This chat isn't over," Tracey muttered, and Ron said nothing as he wiped the brass scales. Splendid job, Ron, you've fucked yourself over, mate.

"Ron, where are you going?" Tracey asked as the Slytherin, and Gryffindor students exited the classroom. "We only have fifteen minutes before Charms begins."

"I need to go to the loo," Ron lied, though it was partially truthful as well. I'm going to a loo… I just don't need to utilise it…

"We're still continuing that conversation later," Tracey said firmly, and she turned on her heel and rushed over to Millie, who was surrounded by Theo, Blaise, Daphne, and Pansy. I'll check in on Millie later…

Ron then quickly caught up with the Golden Trio and Xavier, who were making their way out of the dungeons.

"He knows!" Harry exclaimed anxiously. "Snape kept giving me this look-"

"The man despises you," Xavier cut him off. "Perhaps he wants it to be you, but never actually saw you throw the Filibuster Firework."

"Yeah, let's hope not," Harry mumbled.

"Hermione, did you get the last ingredients?" Ron questioned as they hurried off to Myrtle's bathroom.

"Of course, I did," Hermione smirked in accomplishment. "Professor Snape's cupboards were stacked with bicorn horn and boomslang skin. I was able to get the required amounts with ease."

"I'm starting to think our influence is rubbing off on her, lads," Ron grinned, earning chuckles from the other three boys.

"Will it be ready in a fortnight?" Xavier asked as they finally reached the abandoned bathroom.

"Yes, I believe so," Hermione responded as Neville held the door for her and the rest of them to enter. "Maybe sooner. We'll be able to question Malfoy just before Christmas break."

"Excellent," Harry's mood elevated at the thought of spending time with Sirius and Remus.

Hermione sat down in front of the cauldron placed on top of the toilet seat and got to work. As Harry and Neville discussed how they would retrieve Crabbe and Goyle's hair, Ron pulled Xavier aside.

"What's the matter, mate?" Xavier asked, dropping his voice to a quieter tone. "You look troubled."

"I slipped up in front of Tracey," Ron confessed, scowling to himself at his own idiocy. "She had the notion that I knew what was about to happen when Harry pulled off the diversion and I fucked up in my explanation. She's definitely going to spill to Theo and the others."

"Damn," Xavier said, contemplating Ron's words. "Guess an interrogation is coming your way. And most likely my way too."

"Sorry, mate," Ron apologised sincerely. "Just wanted to tell you beforehand, you know?"

"Don't sweat it," Xavier reassured with a deep sigh. "Just say that Harry wanted revenge and ended up concocting a plant to target Malfoy and his goons or something. As long as you don't divulge to them of the real purpose behind Harry's actions, then it'll be fine."

"Yes?" Harry interrupted. "I heard my name."

"Don't worry, mate," Ron dismissed. "By the way, we have ten minutes until Charms, so I say we get a move on. Don't you agree?"

Xavier and the Golden Trio concurred and began to pick up their bookbags while Hermione stirred the potion a little longer. I really am becoming shitty at lying again, aren't I? I need to perfect it immediately…

The Great Hall - Wednesday, December 9th, 1992 (1:20 p.m.)

"So…" Tracey began, and everyone looked up from their plates. Ah shite, here we go…

"Millie, you sure your hand is ok?" Ron asked, steering the conversation away from dangerous waters.

"Yes, it's fine, Ron," Millie replied firmly. "Thanks for asking, though."

"Don't go crying now because Millie just rejected your offer to spoon-feed her, you weirdo," Theo added in teasingly.

"I wasn't talking to you, prick," Ron snapped, making Xavier and Blaise chuckle.

"What were you going to say, Tracey?" Pansy asked as she filled her plate with luscious salad.

"Ron, do you have something to tell us?" Tracey shot him a meaningful look.

"What's this now?" Daphne enquired; her interest was piqued.

"What did you do now, Ron?" Theo groaned, and Ron shot him a filthy look.

"Always have to jump to conclusions on my character, eh Theo?" Ron scowled, and Theo shrugged with a humorous grin. "Think I caved in someone's head, do you now, eh?"

"It's your words, not mine," Theo replied smartly. This bastard.

"Ron, stop avoiding the subject," Tracey huffed indignantly. "I told you that we would have this conversation again back in Potions, remember?" Yes, I remember, I wasn't bloody obliviated.

"Let me guess," Blaise's indifferent voice crept into the conversation. "Ron had something to do with the disaster that occurred today in Potions?" How in Merlin's saggy left-

"What makes you say that, Blaise?" Pansy queried in bafflement. Please, enlighten us, Blaise.

"Tracey all but alluded to it," Blaise explained aloofly. Five points to Slytherin, Blaise!

"Ron told me that it was Potter who was behind the catastrophe today," Tracey confirmed, and everyone's eyes fell on Ron, which made him a little uneased. What the fuck, no I didn't! I slipped up like a moron, I didn't outright admit it to you!

"Well?" Daphne asked, her lunch forgotten. "Is it true, Ron?"

"Not entirely," Ron began his lie. "I had an idea that Harry was going to do something crazy today. That's why I warned Tracey beforehand to move away from the cauldron when I saw him acting sketchy." Sweet Circe, I wish I could lie effortlessly like Xavier can…

"Why didn't you warn the rest of us?" Theo demanded. "Millie could have avoided getting hit with the Swelling Solution."

"I wasn't certain that Harry would do anything," Ron clarified, and a serious look flashed across his face. "If I knew for sure that he would have done what he did, I would have told you lot beforehand, without a doubt. Don't start thinking that I was careless and ignorant of your safety, ok?"

"What did Potter even do?" Millie questioned, not caring too much about Ron's revelation. Ron shot a quick glance to Xavier and opted to tell the truth.

"He chucked a Filibuster Firework into Goyle's cauldron," Ron informed. Everyone raised their eyebrows, save for Xavier, who was eating his lunch silently, disconnected from the conversation.

"Potter seems to enjoy being a troublemaker, doesn't he?" Blaise scoffed.

"What was Potter's true intent in the first place?" Pansy asked, shooting a dark look over to the Gryffindor table.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged. "I reckon he was just trying to cause mayhem or to have a go at Malfoy and his lackeys."

"I'm presuming you were clued in as well?" Daphne addressed Xavier and they all swivelled their heads towards the dark-skinned boy. 

"I was the one who told Ron, actually," Xavier lied fluently. "I heard Neville and Hermione discussing it yesterday in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ron was sitting next to me, so naturally, I shared what I heard with him." Fucking hell, Xavier's a congenital liar…

Everyone seemed to buy Xavier's words and slowly returned to their meals. Ron kept his composure and continued eating, though he bumped a knee with Xavier to display his appreciation. Xavier bumped his knee back.

"I don't know what you two and Potter's gang have been up to lately," Blaise broke the silence. "But I hope you both refrain from placing yourselves in moronic situations. We don't need to have this talk anymore; I just want you to heed my words. I don't want you two to get into needless trouble, understand?"

Theo nodded along with Blaise's words, while each of the girls shot Blaise a fond smile; Blaise really did care.

"We understand, mate," Ron responded strongly.

"Don't fret over us, father," Xavier added, attempting to lighten the mood. "No need to lose your hair already."

"Shut up and eat your lunch, son," Blaise deepened his voice, and everyone broke out into laughter at Xavier and Blaise's antics.

Xavier Desmond's P.O.V:

The Great Hall - Friday, December 11th, 1992 (8:30 p.m.)

The Great Hall offered a refurbished look. The four extensive House tables and the professors' table were no longer stationed in their usual positions. Instead, the whole Great Hall was devoid of them, but a grand stage covered in a purple carpet was situated in the middle of the Great Hall. The ceiling no longer displayed a starry night sky and only reflected pitch black. Floating candles lit up the spacious room and there seem to be sections that divided the four Houses into respective areas.

Xavier and his friends squeezed through the bustling crowds; every student seemed to be here, highly intrigued and ecstatic. The excitement was simply palpable. Blimey, this place is swarming with everyone tonight!

"The Slytherin section is over there!" Blaise yelled over the buzzing chatter, pointing to the left corner of the split sectors. They all managed to manoeuvre their way through the abundant number of students and found a spot to occupy in the Slytherin section.

"Ooh, I'm so damn excited!" Tracey exclaimed fervidly, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet.

"Me too," Millie mirrored Tracey's eagerness. Even the four boys couldn't deny that some sort of enthusiasm was growing inside of them for the prospect of the duelling club, even if it was being conducted by Lockhart.

"Calm down, Tracey," Daphne said, a smirk gracing her cold visage. "Professor Lockhart isn't going to start duelling everyone in this very room right away."

"Pfft, I'd wager that he won't even duel at all," Theo scoffed spitefully. "The man's a joke. He's probably going to sing one of his godforsaken limericks again."

"Oh, shut up, Theo," Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Is that everyone? Brilliant! Gather around, gather around!" Lockhart's voice boomed and the grinning fool dressed in violet robes stepped onto the stage. Everyone's eyes fell on his figure and began to inch closer to the platform. "Welcome to the duelling club! When I first pitched this idea to the other professors, I was almost certain that my fellow colleagues and the headmaster would never be on board! But to my surprise, they agreed hastily and seemed to welcome my proposal with open arms."

"It was the only idea you've ever come up with that wasn't so absurd, you twit," Ron said loudly, earning him snickers from the boys and looks of disapproval from the girls.

"As some of you may know, I'm a member of the Dark Force Defense League and as such, I have a sworn duty to protect each and every one of you and to seize the role to educate you on how to deal with risky situations, you know, for the foreseeable future," Lockhart continued, smiling brightly. "Now, before I delve into the gist of it, may I introduce my assistant, Professor Snape, who has so generously agreed to the idea of being my assistant."

Professor Snape, who was dressed in his typical all-black attire, stepped onto the platform and made his way next to Professor Lockhart, who was gesturing for everyone to applaud the Potions Master.

"There's no way Snape agreed to help Lockhart willingly!" Theo exclaimed. Right, you are, mate… just look at Snape's face!

Professor Snape looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, and Lockhart's goofy grin was starting to clearly vex the black-robed professor. The House of Slytherin clapped the loudest, while the other three Houses weren't as enthusiastic. Hopefully, Snape takes charge instead of Lockhart…

"Now, Professor Snape and I have agreed to a duel before any of you get involved in any actual duelling yourselves," Lockhart announced, and he displayed his pearly whites. "Professor Snape seems to know quite a bit on the matter, in fact, and so, I believe this will be an interesting duel. Of course, there's no need to feel concerned, you'll have your Potions Master back in one piece once I'm through with him!"

"What a fucking idiot!" Ron clamoured.

"Look at Snape's face!" Millie pointed out.

While Lockhart was chortling cheerfully, Snape's eye was twitching dangerously, and Xavier had no clue how Lockhart was so oblivious. How is he not shitting his trousers by now?

Lockhart and Snape proceeded to bow as a way of beginning their duel. Lockhart demonstrated a more elegant bow, while Snape's was rigid and reluctant. Xavier and Ron exchanged amused smirks; no one was going to bow in a real situation.

The two professors then took a few steps backwards and arranged themselves into duelling stances, something Xavier and Ron had read up on. Lockhart seemed to be in a defensive stance, while Snape took an offensive one.

"Now that we're in combative duelling stances, we are ready to duel!" Lockhart declared and everyone watched with avid attention. "On the count of three, Professor Snape and I will engage in firing spells at one another! One, two, three-"

"Everte Statum!" Snape chanted, and an orange light hit Lockhart, and the man yelped as he flew back several feet and landed painfully on his backside.

The boys from each House roared with laughter and seemed to indulge how Lockhart was made a fool in less than a second. Snape, who was smirking slightly, didn't bother going over to help Lockhart to his feet. The girls from each House, on the other hand, had gasped and whimpered sympathetically on Lockhart's behalf.

"Bloody brilliant, that was!" Ron bellowed over the laughter.

"Do you think Lockhart's alright?" Pansy and Daphne fretted worriedly, craning their necks to see better.

"Who fucking cares?" Xavier and Blaise replied, smiling widely at seeing Lockhart get humiliated. Always knew that fucker was some travesty!

Lockhart stood up with a broad grin and limped back to the middle of the platform, his hair dishevelled and sweat glistening on his brow.

"There you have it, ladies and gentlemen!" Lockhart boomed jubilantly. "Professor Snape performed the Throw-Back Jinx and was successful in beating me in a duel. I must note, however, it was pretty obvious that Professor Snape was going to do so, and I was only going easy." Fuck off with that bullshit!

Snape's face was now deadly, and Lockhart finally seemed to read the vibe of the room. "Nonetheless, I say we start pairing up everyone for some duels! Funnily enough, I already had a paid in mind!"

"What do you suggest?" Snape asked coldly.

"Ronald Weasley and Terry Boot," Lockhart responded jovially. Xavier and his friends all looked at Ron, who seemed to be bewildered. Guess Lockhart kept his word then…

"Ronald Weasley! Terry Boot!" Lockhart addressed loudly, scanning the crowd. "Please come up here!"

"Go get that Ravenclaw bellend, mate," Theo patted Ron's shoulder encouragingly.

"Don't do anything crazy, ok?" Daphne and Tracey advised worriedly, and Ron nodded curtly before making his way through the crowd. You've got this, mate…

Ron entered the platform from one corner while Terry entered it from the other side. They strode to the middle where Lockhart was awaiting them, and they couldn't take their ice-cold gazes off each other.

"I want you two to disarm only, am I clear-"

"If I may interrupt," Snape interposed. "I personally believe that the students should have the option to utilise a variety of spells. It can be beneficial for their experience." Cheers, Professor Snape!

"Very well, Professor Snape!" Lockhart concurred at once. "Well, you heard the man. You may use different spells, save for any severe curses, of course. Now, bow to one another."

Ron and Terry bowed grudgingly and then shuffled off in opposite directions before taking on a duelling stance. Both were on the offensive and the crowd's anticipation was skyrocketing. Easy work, Ron.

"Come on, Ron…" Pansy whimpered, appearing highly anxious.

"He will win, Pans," Millie reassured firmly; she knew that her red-haired friend was talented and levels above most students.

"Get him, Ronnie!"

"Show that Slytherin bastard, Boot!"

"Weren't these two duelling last week?!"

"Three, two, one!"

"Flipendo!" Boot yelled and a blue light hit Ron directly. However, the spell didn't affect Ron, but rather, it was sent right back at Boot, who dodged it with a befuddled look. Xavier recognised Pandora's ring glimmering on Ron's finger. It had negated the effects of Boot's spell. I haven't seen Ron wearing that ring in a while…

"What the heck?" Tracey and Theo muttered in astonishment. The majority of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were all shouting about how Ron was secretly cheating, while Hufflepuff was stunned into silence. The whole Slytherin House were too awestruck.

"Colloshoo!" Ron chanted and since Boot had been too busy being shocked by Ron's unforeseen 'skill', he was struck by a yellow light. He attempted to move, but his shoes were stuck to the ground, and he ended up tripping over.

In an instant, Ron bellowed, "Sternius!" and Boot began to sneeze uncontrollably, his head jerking violently, and a vindictive smirk sprawled across Xavier's face. Not so cocky now, eh?

"Finish him off!"

"That's a dark spell!"

"Why isn't Lockhart stepping in?!"

"Expelliarmus!" Ron finished cleanly, effectively retrieving Boot's wand and Lockhart decided to step in and end the match there.

"We have your winner!" Lockhart declared loudly, raising Ron's hand into the air and the Slytherin House broke out into noisy cheers and whistles. Snape was nullifying all the effects on Boot, but a proud smirk appeared on the formidable man's face and disappeared as quickly as it came.

"That was wicked!" Theo exclaimed, clapping loudly amongst the other Slytherin students. Xavier could hear the twins whistling, along with Percy and the Golden Trio cheering Ron's name in delight.

"Ha, look at Boot!" Millie pointed out with a massive smile. Terry Boot was sulking back to the Ravenclaw stands with an embarrassed and anxious look, no doubt bracing himself for the reception he was about to receive from his Housemates.

"How in Merlin's beard did he send that spell back at Boot without moving a single muscle?!" Blaise questioned; his usual aloof countenance was replaced with one of awe and disbelief.

"We'll have to wait and ask him ourselves!" Tracey replied happily.

"Ron, that was brilliant!" Daphne praised, forgetting her indifferent composure as Ron came trotting over to them with a sated smirk.

"Light work, believe me," Ron puffed up arrogantly.

"How did you repel Boot's Knockback Jinx?" Millie enquired, and everyone leaned in to listen closely.

"A magician never reveals his tricks," Ron answered cryptically. "Blimey, that's a good phrase, Tracey."

"We're going to get an answer out of you somehow," Theo promised firmly, while Blaise and the girls nodded vigorously.

"So, you're keen on training with me and Xavier then?" Ron's eyes flashed.

"Xavier, how did Ron deter Boot's spell?" Daphne and her friends all turned to Xavier.

"I'm afraid it was Lockhart who taught Ron how to do it, my friends," Xavier responded, and Ron wheezed with laughter. "You'll have to ask him."

"Whatever, we'll find out," Pansy and the girls huffed, while Theo and Blaise kept shooting Ron desperate looks. "Can't believe our own friends won't even tell us their secrets."

"Come off it, girls," Ron rolled his eyes. "I won, didn't I?"

"Who's next?" Lockhart asked loudly, smiling widely at the occupants of the room. "Oh, Mr. Finnegan looks quite keen! Alright then, Mr. Finnegan and Mr. Longbottom-"

"I'd heavily advise against that, Professor Lockhart. Finnegan's wand has had a history of having the propensity to wreak havoc and cause a great hazard to himself. As for Mr. Longbottom, he could generate chaos even with the simplest of spells. It would be wise to waive this pair," Snape interjected harshly. Finnegan was whining loudly, while Neville sported a humiliating blush. "If I may suggest a pair?"

"But of course, Professor Snape," Lockhart flashed him a smile. "Who do you have in mind?"

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy shall be suitable," Snape's lip curled into a twisted smile.

"Another excellent suggestion, Professor Snape," Lockhart beamed. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, get up here!"

"Show that-"

"Shh!" Blaise, Daphne, and Theo warned Ron fiercely. "Don't out yourself in front of the whole Slytherin House, you dolt."

"Show that scumbag, Harry," Ron whispered, and he shot a grin at Xavier.

"Good job up there, mate," Xavier complimented, bumping fists with his best friend.

"Eh, it was nothing crazy, mate," Ron shrugged, albeit he looked pleased with himself. "I'm just glad I got to do it, you know?"

"I can't wait to get a shot," Xavier admitted, and the two boys looked over to the stage.

Harry and his archenemy, Draco Malfoy, were facing one another and seemed to be shooting snide remarks at one another while Lockhart was going over the rules. Come on, Harry, put that twat in his place.

Harry and Malfoy then marched to the ends of the stage and took on a duelling stance. Everyone watched with beady eyes; this was a Gryffindor-Slytherin pair up after all.

"Three, two-"

"Rictusempra!" Malfoy started early and caught Harry off guard. Harry doubled up with laughter, while Malfoy smirked smugly. The Gryffindor House was booing Malfoy raucously and there were many demands of 're-starting the match' since Malfoy had started off early. The Slytherins merely jeered at the Gryffindors.

"Bastard," Ron growled, while Xavier scowled in annoyance. Of course, Malfoy would pull off something like that.

While Malfoy basked in his temporary glory, Harry, with great difficulty, pointed his wand at the platinum-haired boy and rasped, "Tarantellegra!"

Malfoy's moment of triumph had ended as he broke into a rapid, fast-paced dance, which caused every House, save for Slytherin, to howl with laughter. Ron and Xavier were trying their hardest not to join in with the laughter and gripped each other tightly while holding their breath. That's just brilliant, that is!

"Expelliarmus!" Harry successfully disarmed Malfoy, and everyone cheered jubilantly, apart from Slytherin House, who were scowling in displeasure. Xavier and Ron exchanged a handshake at seeing Harry secure a win.

"Always knew Malfoy was a fucking disgrace," Ron muttered in Xavier's ear.

"Agreed," Xavier replied wholeheartedly.

Lockhart pulled Harry aside with a wide grin and was no doubt chatting with him about dealing with victories. Snape, utterly disappointed, picked Malfoy up bitterly. Malfoy, who had retrieved his wand back, looked full of chagrin at failing Snape and failing to satisfy his own vendetta. His face contorted in rage, and he pointed his wand in Harry's direction. What the fuck?!

"Oi, watch out!"

Malfoy chanted, "Serpensortia!" and a brown-scaled snake shot out of his wand and onto the stage. Everyone gasped and backed away slowly. Fuck!

"No need to fuss, I'll remove it in an instant!" Lockhart reassured and he pointed his wand at the snake. "Alarte Ascendare!"

The snake didn't vanish; instead, it was merely fired up into the air and right back down onto the platform. Seemingly infuriated, the snake hissed ferociously and looked between the occupants of the room. That was useless!

"This fucking imbecile!" Ron smacked his forehead.

The snake slithered closer to Harry but then paused and turned its head towards the Hufflepuff stand, peering closely at Justin Finch-Fletchley, Earnie Macmillan, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott.

"Yes, prey, come here…" the snake hissed, and Xavier's eyes widened; he had forgotten he could understand the ancient snake language.

"W-what the hell?" Justin Finch-Fletchley stammered loudly, and the snake poised itself, ready to strike.

"I'll get rid of it properly," Snape began to march down to the snake, but he halted in his place when his eyes landed on Harry.

The boy-who-lived was inching closer towards the snake. He wasn't wielding his wand, nor did he seem afraid. It almost seemed like someone was controlling him. Harry calmly stepped closer to the snake, which garnered its attention.

"Leave him alone…" Harry ordered, and a collective gasp of horror emanated throughout the room. What the actual fuck?! Xavier and Ron glanced at one another with jarred looks. This can't be happening!

"You speak my noble tongue?" the snake replied, blatantly surprised.

"Back away from Justin…" Harry repeated firmly with a concentrated look. Everyone exchanged looks of pure dismay, transfixed by what they were witnessing and too terrified to express a sound.

"Vipera Evanesca," Snape chanted in a low voice and the snake vanished from sight. For a couple of seconds, no one uttered a word. Lockhart looked bewildered, Snape was eyeing Harry with an unreadable expression, however, it wasn't the one of loathing that he usually reserved for Harry. Every student's countenance was the exact same; their jaws were slackened, and their eyes were as wide as saucers. Harry is… a Parselmouth?! Just like me?!

"What the hell are you playing at?" Justin questioned loudly, breaking the silence. The Hufflepuff boy had an incensed look on his face, but his eyes betrayed his fear.

"Justin… I…" Harry was lost for words; why was everyone staring at him like that?

Justin then stormed out of the Great Hall, and that's when Lockhart decided to speak up again.

"I think that was enough for tonight, don't you agree, Professor Snape?" Lockhart asked, his usual cheery mood gone. Snape didn't reply, but he nodded tersely. His black coals for eyes still burned through Harry's puzzled expression. Whispers permeated through the room. Even the Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses looked aghast at Harry.

Xavier looked at his own friends and each of them had blanched severely. He then quickly spotted the three American expatriates and saw Valerie looking panicky, while Deandre and Demelza were discussing something in hushed tones. It can't be…

"Alright everyone, off to bed," Lockhart instructed, looking eager to retreat to his office.

"Come on, let's leave," Blaise recommended, and Xavier braced himself for a long discussion once they got back to their dorms.

Harry Potter's P.O.V:

Gryffindor Common Room - Friday, December 11th, 1992 (9:10 p.m.)

Neville and Hermione had steered Harry out of the Great Hall instantly after Lockhart had dismissed them all. Harry was stunned by the treatment he was receiving; everyone, even bloody Snape, had stared at him like he was a demon harbouring the body of a twelve-year-old boy.

Harry had tried to ask questions, but Neville and Hermione hadn't said a word as they guided him to his dorm. None of the Gryffindors were back yet. Neville and Hermione knew they had to make their interrogation quick.

"Harry," Hermione began, looking like she had been told her father was Merlin in disguise. Neville sat Harry down on his bed. "Why didn't you tell us that you were a Parselmouth?"

"A what?" Harry asked curiously.

"A Parselmouth," Neville repeated; his face was paler than usual, and his pupils were diluted. "It's a person who can communicate with snakes. They can speak Parseltongue. That's what you were doing with that snake back there in the Great Hall."

"I was?" Harry questioned slowly, looking down at his hands.

"Did you know about this ability all along?" Hermione enquired, her eyes narrowing on the scrawny boy.

"I mean, I guess so," Harry answered dubiously. "I once talked to a boa constrictor at the zoo. I accidentally set it loose on my cousin Dudley."

Harry's attempt at lightening the mood was unsuccessful. "Ok, so what's the big deal?"

"The big deal…" Hermione started, still giving Harry an incredulous look. "Is that it is an extremely rare gift. In fact, it's hereditary. You can't just acquire it by learning it. It needs to be passed down through an ancestor."

"Ok, what are you getting at?" Harry was starting to become nervous. "I was only telling the snake to not attack Justin. I don't get why he was so furious, he clearly heard me tell the snake to back off!"

"No one heard you, Harry," Neville spoke up.

"What?"

"All we heard was you hissing and spitting," Hermione answered for Neville who shuddered. "It's Parseltongue. You might have heard yourself speaking English or whatever, but all we heard was you making snake-like sounds."

Harry was at a loss for words. He was certain that speaking to snakes was some other ability that was common throughout the Wizarding World and as such, never thought to investigate it further. But now, even his two best friends were giving him apprehensive looks and that frightened him; the last thing he ever wanted was to make his friends afraid of him.

"This is really bad," Hermione suddenly said as she paced hastily. "This is terribly bad…"

"How so?" Harry queried as he gulped; her pacing wasn't easing the tension.

"As I said before, being a Parselmouth is incredibly seldom," Hermione replied, and she froze in her place and gazed at Harry. "Salazar Slytherin was a notorious Parselmouth. That's why Slytherin's emblem is a snake. It was one of his well-known skills." Blimey… Salazar Slytherin was also a Parselmouth?

"And now… the whole school might think you're somehow related to him," Neville whispered, fear evident in his tone.

"And that's definitely not going to help your reputation as it is right now," Hermione sighed deeply. "People already suspect you of being the Heir of Slytherin. Now that everyone knows you're a Parselmouth-"

"I swear I'm not their Heir of Slytherin or a descendant of Salazar Slytherin!" Harry exclaimed desperately. The knot in his stomach was starting to tighten and he felt light-headed at the revelation.

"We know you're not the heir, mate," Neville mustered up a smile. "But who knows if you're really related to Salazar Slytherin."

"Neville's right, Harry," Hermione said softly. "Salazar Slytherin roamed the earth many centuries ago. It wouldn't be so farfetched if your family was linked to his bloodline through the matrimony of many families that have come before yours."

Harry laid back on his bed and emitted an exhausted sigh. This was the last thing he needed. Now more rumours, scared looks and incessant whispering would follow him for Merlin knew how long. Great, just great… I wonder if I should tell Sirius about this… would he look at me like I'm a freak too?

Harry suddenly remembered something that sent chills down his spine and filled him with dread. The Sorting Hat had contemplated sorting Harry into Slytherin. It was only Harry's interference and disagreement with the idea that prevented him from being sorted into Slytherin. What if… he was never meant to be in Gryffindor? Was he truly meant to be in Slytherin all along? No! I'm A Gryffindor! Just because some hat almost put me there and the fact that I can talk to snakes doesn't make me a Slytherin nor evil!

Xavier Desmond's P.O.V:

Boy's Dorm - Friday, December 11th, 1992 (9:10 p.m.)

"This is… this is unbelievable," Theo muttered absentmindedly, pacing in the middle of the room. Everyone was still reeling from their astonishment; even as Slytherins, Harry Potter's 'gift' had shocked them well beyond comprehension and quite frankly, it was somewhat terrifying.

"It doesn't make sense…" Blaise trailed off, lost in his thoughts.

"The way he calmly hissed at it…" Pansy shuddered violently. "I'm going to have nightmares…"

"It's an extremely rare ability as well," Daphne added, her face white with fear. "I knew Potter was a strange individual, but this… this is inexplicable."

"Harry's not strange," Ron frowned, but he didn't have the fight in him to indulge in that sort of conversation. He too was heavily fazed by what he had witnessed not too many minutes ago.

"What do you reckon he was telling the snake?" Millie questioned, breaking the silence.

"To probably leave Finch-Fletchley alone or something," Tracey replied with uncertainty. "I mean, it worked, didn't it?"

"I'm not so sure I agree, Tracey," Pansy spoke up. "The snake looked ready to… strike."

"Potter must be related to Salazar Slytherin," Theo stated, garnering everyone's attention. "It's the only probable explanation."

"Perhaps," Blaise responded quietly. "If Potter's whole family tree can be traced and displayed to show that every family hailed from Europe, it could link him to Salazar Slytherin. He was one of the only few Parselmouths that roamed this area of the world for Merlin knows how long."

"And if not?" Ron asked, looking intrigued.

"Then his family might have had their origins in another country," Daphne replied for Blaise. "Though the aptitude is uncommon, historically, many Parselmouths have reigned from countries in South Asia and Africa."

"Xavier, are you alright?" Pansy asked gently. "You haven't uttered a single word since departing the Great Hall with us."

"I'm speechless," Xavier managed a reply, and everyone nodded in understanding. "This is definitely going to raise everyone's suspicions on Harry being the Heir of Slytherin, now that he can converse with snakes. Every student was a witness, along with two professors. Word will certainly get out to families and by then, the Daily Prophet might even do an article on it."

"I almost feel bad for him," Theo chuckled, shaking his head as he plopped down on his bed next to Tracey. "The lad gets enough attention already."

"Things in this school just get more ridiculous by the day," Tracey sighed tiredly.

The girls soon bid the boys goodnight and left for their dorm, while the boys turned in for the night. It was hours before Xavier could drift off to sleep. And in those hours, it was all when everything suddenly clicked in his mind. An epiphany had occurred. If he was not mistaken, he, Harry, and Valerie were all Parselmouths.

Whether Valerie knew if she could converse with snakes herself was unknown to Xavier, but upon later inspection of seeing Valerie's face in the moment when Harry had demonstrated his rare ability, Xavier could tell that she understood every single word that was spewing out of Harry and that snake's mouth. Just like he did.

Xavier then realised that if being a Parselmouth was what linked the three of them together and made them distinct from every other student of Hogwarts, that voice they had heard in the walls belonged to some sort of serpent.

It made total sense; when Valerie had ranted to Xavier about her problems, which involved hearing a voice, she described it as 'hisses'. It also accounted for why no one else could hear its words, save for Xavier, Harry, and Valerie.

Xavier wanted to slap himself silly for not realising it earlier. A serpent was traversing across Hogwarts, and it was what everyone dubbed as 'Slytherin's Legendary Monster' and 'The Horror Within'. And this chilled Xavier down to his core.

By the time Xavier had fallen asleep, he had devised a plan to confront the Heir of Slytherin and sacrifice himself to stop the monster before it could take any more victims.

He would keep tabs on everyone's movements with the use of the Marauder's Map and he would start researching the different sorts of serpents that could fit the description of being the beast that petrified its victims.

He was hesitant on disclosing his plan to Ron, their Slytherin friends and the Golden Trio. Perhaps he had to obtain this information and keep it to himself for now. After all, if his friends had reacted badly to Harry being a Parselmouth, there was no telling how they would react to him being one too…

Albus Dumbledore's P.O.V:

Headmaster's Office - Friday, December 11th, 1992 (11:00 p.m.)

"This is seriously illuminating news, Severus…" Albus trailed off as he stroked his beard in thought. So, it's true then… Harry has been transferred the ability to talk to snakes from Tom's doing… I was correct.

"He just coolly approached and started hissing like it was pure English, Albus," Severus informed; the Potions Master looked somewhat disturbed and Albus couldn't blame him. Even he would shudder at the very sight of seeing an individual communicate with a snake, let alone a young boy who never gave off any ominous vibes. Perhaps it was that prejudiced part of his mind that caused a minute amount of fear in Albus…

"What happened next?" Albus questioned, glancing at the sleeping portraits of all the previous headmasters and headmistresses. Even if they were snoring incontestably, he couldn't risk any information being overheard and as such, he had silenced the room like he usually did.

"I removed the snake and Lockhart dismissed the students," Severus responded truthfully. "Longbottom and Granger guided Potter out of the Great Hall with haste."

"Poor boy," Albus mumbled softly. "He had to learn about his unique gift the hard way. The students will unequivocally feel uncomfortable around him."

"And what of Black and Lupin?" Severus questioned; he couldn't care less if Harry Potter had to face the misfortune of having other students becoming wary of him. He was convinced that it was Harry who had coordinated the debacle in his Potions class two days ago. "Do you plan to discuss this matter with them?"

"It is only a matter of time before many wizards and witches find out about it, Severus," Albus replied gravely, and his eyes hardened. "I'm sure Sirius and Remus will be included. What concerns me is whether or not Tom is aware of Harry's Parselmouth nature. If he doesn't know, which is most likely the circumstance, then I fear he may get a hold of this surprising news and utilise it to his advantage sometime in the future." Future… I wonder if Ronald has experienced any visions of late…

"As in setting a trap to lure the boy in?" Severus asked, his eyes hardening too.

"Indeed," Albus answered, and he stared at his ex-student. "Does Minerva and the others know?"

"Probably," Severus scowled distastefully. "That buffoon Lockhart is most likely raving on about it to them as we speak."

"How did the duelling club go?" Albus smiled a little. "Apart from the end, of course. I hope everything went to plan?"

"Oh, very much," Severus smirked cruelly. "I humiliated that idiot in front of the whole student cohort. He truly is a misrepresentation of everything that has been publicised by him."

"Did any of the children, save for Harry and Draco, get a chance to duel?" Albus asked with interest. Albus vividly recalled his own excitement whenever the prospect of duelling was presented when he was in his youth.

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Boot had a chance to pick things up from where they left it last week," Severus shared nonchalantly.

"I presume Ronald came out victorious?" Severus nodded at Albus' assumption.

"He certainly knows a handful of spells," Severus pointed out; there was an impressed tinge marred in his otherwise indifferent tone. "I'm certain that he and Mr. Desmond practise in their spare time. Mr. Weasley even performed the Sneeze Charm."

"Quite an irritating spell to be hit with," Albus replied with a chuckle. "Speaking of our two Slytherin prodigies, how is Mr. Desmond these days?"

"The usual as always," Severus sighed; for the past month, he had observed Xavier Desmond quite thoroughly and hadn't come out with any news to report. "He earns House points in class, completes all the work required and seems to be enjoying his time so far."

"That's excellent news," Albus' smile widened. "It's essential that these children spend their years here, consolidating good memories and maturing into independent young adults." Snape rolled his eyes at Albus' typical sappy words but didn't make any remark.

"Well, I'm sure you have some time for a game of Wizard's Chess," Albus proposed, and he set the board on his desk. "One game, Severus?"

"Whatever, old man," Severus agreed and Albus flashed him a paternal smile, presenting him with black, while he took white. This shall be fun…

Harry Potter's P.O.V:

Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom - Saturday, December 12th, 1992 (10:00 a.m.)

As expected, Harry had received apprehensive treatment from everyone around him. He had woken up to find Seamus and Dean needing to 'leave for breakfast' and had only exchanged two or three words with them.

Albeit Neville and Hermione were steadfastly by his side, Harry couldn't just ignore the hushed whispers, sharp glances, and conspicuous discussions that everyone engaged in whenever he passed them in the hallway or at breakfast, even if he blatantly tried to.

Though Gryffindor were adamant about defending Harry, it was evident that many of his Housemates were also wary of him. Hufflepuff were now fearful of Harry, Ravenclaw wanted to dissect Harry's brain and figure out everything, and Slytherin was mixed; for the first time, it appeared as though some Slytherins wanted to approach Harry and question him on his ability, while many others hissed at him mockingly or eyed him suspiciously.

A tale has been spun that Harry had been 'egging' the snake on to attack Justin Finch-Fletchley and Snape's interference was why Justin was still well and healthy. This circulating rumour had ruined Harry's breakfast and mood, but he planned on confronting Justin and reassuring him of what truly occurred. And fortunately, his two Slytherin friends had agreed to aid him.

"Will you stop with that pacing?" Hermione snapped, looking up from the simmering cauldron. "If I mess up because of you, then our whole plan will be a huge failure!"

"I can't help it!" Harry shot back, and Neville sighed.

"Leave it, you two," Neville played peacemaker as always.

"Do you reckon Justin will understand?" Harry asked anxiously. Neville and Hermione exchanged quick looks.

"Harry, you can't blame him if he doesn't," Hermione started gently. "He's been fed twisted lies about what you may have said to the snake. For all we know, you could have told the snake to start dancing or something."

"We believe you," Neville promised firmly. "That's all that matters."

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling a little. Three rapid knocks came on the door and Neville rushed over and opened the door. Xavier stepped inside and sauntered up to Harry with an emotionless expression.

"Thanks for doing this, Xavier," Harry started gratefully.

"Don't mention it, Harry," Xavier replied, his eyes were fixed on Harry and were unblinking. "Ron's gone to talk to the Hufflepuffs. He's having a chat with them at the library as we speak."

"Great," Harry nodded fervently. "I guess we'll go then?"

"Certainly," Xavier responded, and he guided Harry out of the bathroom. Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Nev and Hermione shooting him assuring smiles.

For a few seconds, silence inundated the two of them. Harry couldn't pick up a vibe from Xavier and it was creating more nervousness within him. Harry opened his mouth and close it, then opened it again and closed it once more.

"I don't think you're the Heir of Slytherin," Xavier broke the silence; he had easily noticed Harry's squirmy behaviour. "Neither does Ron. Sure, we were stunned at first, but there isn't enough evidence that points it at you being the heir. Don't sweat it, alright mate?"

"I…" Harry started, and he broke into an appreciative smile. "I won't. Thanks, mate."

"It's my pleasure," Xavier chuckled, and he cuffed Harry on the shoulder. Harry, feeling slightly elevated, continued navigating to the library with Xavier, bracing himself for the confrontation with the badgers.

Ron Weasley's P.O.V:

Library - Saturday, December 12th, 1992 (10:10 a.m.)

"Just hear me out," Ron whispered frantically, and the badgers half-heartedly complied. "I know Harry's Parselmouth ability scares you lot. It frightened us Slytherins too!"

"Exactly!" Earnie Macmillan replied vehemently in a quieter tone. "For all we know, he might have been arranging an attack on Justin!"

"And what reason would he have to do that?" Ron frowned widely. Are these lot serious right now?

"I talked to him at the start of the year," Justin informed, and his eyes darted in all directions. "I told him… that I was a Muggle-born."

"For the love of Merlin," Ron groaned, rolling his eyes. "Justin, Harry is not in Slytherin! Nor is he a Pure-blood either! Your Houses get along just fine!"

"Ron's got a point," Lily piped up. "We can't just point fingers at Harry because he can talk with snakes."

"It almost seemed like the bloke did it involuntarily," Kevin recalled, his brow furrowed.

"Ugh, these are all speculations," Susan huffed exasperatedly, shaking her head vigorously.

"One of Harry's best friends is a Muggle-born," Ron reminded, and the badgers processed his words. "Look, this damn heir hasn't even attacked in nearly a month-"

"But being a Parselmouth is literally the mark of a dark wizard, mate!" Wayne interjected with a desperate glint in his eyes. "I reckon Potter slipped up and accidentally showed the whole school who he really is." What the hell am I hearing right now?!

"Honestly, you lot are just-"

"Ron," came Xavier's monotone voice. Ron and the badgers turned in the direction of Xavier's voice and found him accompanying Harry, who had a determined look about him.

"Woah, woah," Earnie and the badgers took a step back. If the situation wasn't so intense, Ron would have burst out in laughter.

"Calm down, you lot," Xavier ordered firmly. "Harry here just wants to talk."

"Talk, eh?" Justin replied, eyeballing Harry with trepidation. "Go on then, talk."

"I just wanted to clarify what happened last night," Harry said after inhaling a calming breath. "People think I was encouraging the snake to tear into you-"

"Well, it certainly looked like it," Justin interrupted shakily, while Sally and Emily rubbed his arms placatingly.

"Please," Harry's tone became louder. "I wasn't trying to make it hurt you, I swear! I was instructing it to back away and to leave you alone."

"How could we know for sure?" Megan queried, her eyes narrowing on the bespectacled boy.

"You can't," Xavier answered for Harry. "You should give him the benefit of the doubt, however. Harry has no motive to inflict pain onto Justin in front of the whole school."

"He doesn't have anything against those with Muggle percentage either," Ron added in strongly. "I can't recall how many times Harry had felt self-righteous anger for the times his friend, Hermione Granger, was called insults like 'filthy Mud-blood'."

"But speaking with a snake…" Hannah Abbott trailed off as her face paled. "No one can do it!"

"Only malevolent wizards in history have been able to do so," Wayne added in, looking fearfully at Harry.

"I'm not evil!" Harry exclaimed obstinately.

"What is the matter here?" Madam Pince's figure loomed over them like a vulture. "This is a library, not a courtyard! OUT!"

"Gladly," Justin huffed indignantly and stormed out of the area. The badgers, save for Lily and Kevin, followed suit. Ron sighed heavily as he joined Xavier and Harry. Madam Pince's penetrating look saw them out of the library.

"They'll come around, mate," Kevin reassured.

"I think your words have made some of them see the errors of their convictions," Lily added in.

"Hopefully," Harry mumbled, his visage becoming downtrodden. Ron gave a quick nod to Lily and Kevin, and they returned it before leaving the three alone.

"Don't feel disheartened, Harry," Xavier comforted, patting Harry's back. "Some of the badgers don't think you're the heir."

"Most of them do," Harry pointed out sadly.

"Fuck what they think," Ron chimed in firmly. "You know that you're not the heir. Your closest friends know you're not the heir. That's what really counts."

"Besides, I'm sure there's an explanation for your Parselmouth ability," Xavier added in. "One day, you'll figure it out, I'm sure of it."

Without a word, Harry latched onto the two and engulfed them in a hug. Xavier and Ron exchanged awkward blushes, but nonetheless, returned it and patted the scrawny boy's back consolingly.

"We're here for you, mate," Ron promised in a mollifying manner. Harry looked up at them and the two Slytherins could see that his eyes were shimmering with a batch of unshed tears.

"Thanks, guys," Harry sniffled, and he took off his glasses to rub his eyes. The last thing wanted was to weep in front of his two Slytherin mates.

"It's all good," Xavier replied, squeezing Harry's shoulder.

"How about we take our brooms for a spin, eh?" Ron proposed. Xavier and Harry concurred enthusiastically, and the three boys set off to retrieve their brooms.

Xavier Desmond's P.O.V:

Boy's Lavatory - Tuesday, December 15th, 1992 (11:11 a.m.)

Xavier washed his hands expertly and used a Hot-Air Charm to make the sprinkles of water on his hands and the cuffs of his sleeves dry.

Noticing that no one else was occupying the bathroom, Xavier took the opportunity to withdraw the Marauder's Map from his inner pockets to take a quick skim before heading off to Transfiguration.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Xavier whispered for no apparent reason and tapped his wand against the blank parchment. It revealed its contents and Xavier immediately got to work, scanning his eyes over the structure of the castle and its inhabitants.

Xavier saw his Slytherin and Gryffindor Housemates marching over to classroom 1B, and he watched other students studying in the library, out in the courtyards and some in the common rooms. Including Ginny. She had just entered the common room and seemed to be pacing slightly before rushing away hastily to her dorm. Xavier frowned to himself. Isn't Ginny meant to be in class? Merlin, what is up with that girl lately?

"Tempus," Xavier chanted, and his wand produced the time. Twelve past eleven… I should get going, Transfiguration will begin any minute.

Xavier was about to make the map reverse back into a spare piece of parchment when something odd caught his eye. Harry was traversing by himself in what seemed like a vacant corridor, astray from the rest of his Housemates. What the hell? Why is Harry there?

However, Xavier had been incorrect. The corridor was not in fact vacant as two more names appeared in that vicinity: Justin Finch-Fletchley and Headless Nick.

Alarm bells started to go off in Xavier's head and he was certain something wasn't right. What were Harry and Justin doing in a corridor all by themselves? Why the hell was the ghost of Gryffindor accompanying them? Were they confronting one another?

Xavier took one more glance at the location of the corridor and quickly muttered, "Mischief managed," before stuffing the map back into his inner pockets and dashing off to the corridor. Something's not right… I need to figure out what in Merlin's beard is going on this instant!

Harry Potter's P.O.V:

First Floor - Tuesday, December 15th, 1992 (11:09 a.m.)

"Thank Merlin for the blizzard today," Seamus commented as the Gryffindors trekked their way to Transfiguration.

"How so?" Dean asked, shivering at the increased coldness of the castle. "This blizzard's doing my head in!"

"Yeah, but it's why Herbology was cancelled, wasn't it?" Seamus grinned widely.

"It's not that bad," Neville scowled under his breath and as much as Harry detested opposing Neville, he had to side with Seamus on this one. Herbology is the last thing I want to do in the middle of a blizzard…

"Hermione, watch where you're going!" Lavender exclaimed and Hermione narrowly avoided a suit of armour.

"Seriously, Hermione, you ought to put that book down for some time at least!" Parvati chastised.

"I'm fine," Hermione snapped, hugging Voyages with Vampires to her chest protectively. Harry, once again, found himself opposing Hermione and agreeing with Lavender and Parvati.

"You nearly collided with a solid suit of armour," Harry pointed out, but Hermione wasn't having it. Harry's eyes fell upon the bulge in Hermione's book bag and pondered how she could carry such thick-covered books on her person all day.

"Oh, damn," Harry halted suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Neville questioned, stopping in his tracks too.

"I forgot my Transfiguration textbook again," Harry sighed in annoyance.

"I can just share mine with you," Neville suggested.

"Nah, Professor McGonagall got vexed with us last time that happened, remember?" Harry reminded. "I'll quickly go back and grab mine."

"Should I tag along?" Neville asked, and Harry shook his head.

"Nah, Nev, you go on, mate," Harry reassured, pivoting on his heel. "I'll see you there."

"If you say so," Neville replied, and he joined the rest of the Gryffindors.

Harry was halfway back to the common room when he spotted a large figure approaching in his direction. Hagrid?

"Hagrid!" Harry greeted, causing the towering individual to halt.

"Hullo, Harry!" Hagrid greeted back amicably, removing the snow-filled balaclava off his face. "Aren't yer supposed to be in class?"

"I'm going back to grab my textbook," Harry clarified, and his brow furrowed. "Hagrid, what's that in your hand?"

"Oh, this?" Hagrid lifted a lifeless, limp rooster in his hand. "Nothin' to worry abou' Harry. Need to speak to Professor Dumbledore, that's all. Now, go on, on yer way, lad."

"See you, Hagrid," Harry continued making his back to the Gryffindor common room in silence and solitude. It wasn't long before he found himself utilising a shortcut, which was an empty, dimly lit corridor.

A foreboding silence hung in the air. The dimly lit corridor seemed darker and creepier than usual. Harry shrugged it off, believing it was attributed to the current blizzard. With every step, however, the corridor seemed to grow darker, quieter and more ominous.

Harry, who was too busy musing over the corridor's eerie silence, yelped when he tripped over something in his way. After adjusting his askew glasses, Harry stood up and peered closely to take a closer inspection. His stomach plummeted. Justin Finch-Fletchley was on the floor, frozen and rigid, with a permanent look of horror etched on his pale face. What… what the hell?!

Harry tried to back away, but he felt rooted to the spot. Something entered the corner of his eye and when he swivelled his head, a peculiar sight greeted him, causing his shock to increase tremendously. Headless Nick was floating near Justin's form, no longer transparent and lively, but charred and smoky, completely immobilised and inoperative, almost as if he was… dead. And he mirrored the expression that Justin had.

A sinister feeling flooded the area. Harry had to leave. Now! He had to depart before anyone could find him. Once again, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I have to tell a professor! I have to tell the headmaster-

"Harry?"

Harry whipped around with a terror-stricken countenance and his heart pounded strenuously. There Xavier was, standing a few feet away from Harry, Justin and Headless Nick with the expressionless look that was always reserved for circumstances like this. But Harry could see that there was a minute amount of trepidation on Xavier's face, and this propelled his vocal cords to work.

"Xavier, I swear this wasn't me!" Harry exclaimed, surrendering his arms into the air.

"What are you doing here?" Xavier enquired steadily, and his hand was gripping something tightly in his robes, most presumably his wand.

"I was just trying to retrieve my Transfiguration textbook," Harry clarified truthfully. "You can even ask Nev. I've used this corridor before because it acts as a shortcut to Gryffindor Tower. I found these two here – wait, what're you doing here?"

Harry had only clocked the impeccable timing of Xavier's appearance. How did his Slytherin friend know he was here? Was it pure coincidence? No, why would Xavier need to utilise this corridor around this time of day?

Xavier ignored Harry's question completely and an unsettling feeling arose in Harry's stomach, the exact feeling he had felt when Xavier had walked on him, Nev and Hermione discovering Mrs. Norris' petrified form.

Instead, Xavier seemed to be examining Harry's affrighted visage and a few seconds passed before the dark-skinned Slytherin took a few steps forward. He squinted at Justin before resting his eyes up on Headless Nick.

"Fuck me…" Xavier muttered, his eyes widening at the sight of the amicable ghost. "How is this possible? Finch-Fletchley was clearly petrified, but Headless Nick… isn't he meant to be dead already? How could he be affected?"

"I dunno," Harry gulped audibly as sweat glistened on his brow. "Please, Xavier, you have to believe me. I swear I would never do this-"

"We have to notify the professors," Xavier interjected, gazing at Harry.

"You're… you're right," Harry agreed, his head still spinning from what he discovered. "Can you go tell Professor McGonagall? I'll stay here and wait, I promise."

"Alright," Xavier replied firmly after a moment. "Stay put, I'll summon Professor McGonagall as quickly as I can. Sweet Circe…"

Xavier then retreated from the corridor and once he and his shadow vanished, Harry released a deep sigh, though his heart was still thumping wildly, and his body was quivering. This was going to be devastating to the badgers… and they were sure to convict Harry of this heinous act. Why me? This is going to be so bad…

Xavier Desmond's P.O.V:

Ground Floor - Tuesday, December 15th, 1992 (11:15 a.m.)

Xavier absent-mindedly sprinted to classroom 1B as a million thoughts inundated his mind. Could it be Harry? No, Xavier didn't have the heart to believe that the scrawny bespectacled boy was the Heir of Slytherin. Just because it was revealed that boy-who-lived was a Parselmouth, it didn't prove anything.

Xavier swiftly turned a corner and found himself in pure bewilderment. How the hell can a ghost get affected? Aren't they supposed to be already dead?! Damn, this makes no sense!

Funnily enough, Peeves had been shrieking about a petrification before Xavier could locate Harry, which meant that the poltergeist had most likely discovered Justin and Headless Nick in their current state before Harry had and it was only a matter of time before the other professors and students would go up to investigate, thus leading them to Harry and as such, Xavier had to be quick in retrieving Professor McGonagall. Fortunately, this meant Xavier could use Peeves as a pretence to how he found Harry.

Xavier invited himself into the classroom, interrupting Professor McGonagall's speech on the Softening Charm and everyone shifted their attention to acknowledge him.

"How pleasant of you to join us so late, Mr. Desmond," Professor McGonagall was not pleased at all. Xavier's friends all shot him concerned looks. "Care to explain the cause of your unpunctual arrival?"

"Professor, you have to come," Xavier urged firmly, staring at the professor right in the eye. "Someone's been petrified again."

The shift in the mood of the classroom was instant. Professor McGonagall's displeased look dropped. Both the Gryffindors and Slytherins had expressed looks of shock, immediately engaging in discussion and some even stood up.

"Silence!" Professor McGonagall ordered, and everyone snapped their mouth shut. "Return to your seat at once, Mr. Finnegan! Mr. Desmond, what is the meaning of this?"

"I'm not lying, professor," Xavier promised, his brow furrowing. "You need to come and see this. I'll explain everything on the way."

"Very well," Professor McGonagall nodded with a resolute look, and she gazed at her students icily. "Everyone must remain seated and by the time I return, I expect every one of you to have answered the questions on the board, is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," everyone chorused reluctantly, and their eyes were fixated on Xavier. Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and a set of questions appeared on the chalkboard. Thank Merlin she's taking this seriously…

"Lead the way, Mr. Desmond," McGonagall instructed, and she began to march away from the front of the classroom. Xavier's eyes darted toward his friends and found each of them giving him a 'tell-us-everything-when-you-get-back!' look. Xavier then joined the Head of Gryffindor without another word and the two exited the Transfiguration classroom.

"Now, tell me, what occurred?" Professor McGonagall interrogated as Xavier guided her to the corridor quickly.

"I walked upon Harry standing over Justin Finch-Fletchley's frozen body-"

"Merlin…" McGonagall muttered sharply as they reached closer to the destination.

"It wasn't the only bizarre sight, I assure you, professor," Xavier added seriously, and McGonagall rubbed her temples.

"Well, I'll see as I'm about to encounter what you saw many moments ago, Mr. Desmond," McGonagall replied grimly and the two reached the corridor. Voices reverberated off the walls and they found that they weren't the only newcomers. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout were inspecting the chilling sight, while Harry stood behind them awkwardly. Guess they believed Peeves…

"Ah, Minerva!" Sprout exclaimed as McGonagall joined her two colleagues.

"By the Gods…" McGonagall whispered, her eyes fixated on the Gryffindor ghost. "How could this be?"

"No clue, Minerva," Flitwick sighed harshly. "I presume you heard Peeve's boisterous howling about this catastrophe as well?"

"On the contrary, Filius, Mr. Desmond here disclosed the details of the situation and led me back here," McGonagall responded, and everyone turned in Xavier's direction.

"I heard Peeves raving about it as well," Xavier began his lie, schooling any tinge of fabrication in his tone. "He all but pointed me in the direction of the incident and I found Harry here." Please don't doubt me…

The professors swivelled their heads to Harry and the scrawny boy looked apprehensive at how it felt like he was being backed up against a corner.

"See, I do not lie!" came Peeve's desperate voice and everyone looked back to see several ghosts descending upon them. Brilliant, now word's going to spread even faster than before.

"By Helga… Nicholas!" The Fat Friar lamented with a mortified look. "Was this truly the work of the Heir, Minerva?"

"I'm afraid so, Friar," McGonagall grimaced.

"Helena, love, stay close to me," The Bloody Baron ordered protectively, but the silver Ravenclaw ghost ignored him completely and floated closer to observe Headless Nick with an intrigued look.

"Deary me, I'll have to prepare more Mandrake Draught," Sprout noted to herself.

"And what are these two students doing here?" The Fat Friar questioned curiously.

"Yes, what are they doing here?" Peeves narrowed his eyes in suspicion, particularly at Harry.

"I swear, professor," Harry started, gazing at his favourite professor pleadingly. "It wasn't me-"

"This is out of my hands, Mr. Potter," McGonagall interjected hopelessly. "Come, follow me."

"Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done?"

"Mr. Potter?" The Fat Friar's eyes became protuberant. "But it can't be…"

"You're killing off students, you think it's good fun-"

"Silence, Peeves!" McGonagall yelled fiercely and Peeves cackled maniacally.

"Begone, jester!" The Bloody Baron growled, shooting a death glare at the meddlesome poltergeist. "This is an urgent matter, and you cannot take it seriously. Get out of my sight. NOW!"

"Yes, sir," Peeves vacated the place, not wanting to earn the Baron's ire.

"Professor, I don't think Harry was behind this-"

"That's enough, Mr. Desmond," McGonagall cut off sternly. "I thank you for your decision to alert me, but you should be heading back to class forthwith. Pomona, can you make sure Mr. Desmond gets back to class?"

"Certainly, Minerva," Sprout nodded and laid Justin's body in the stretcher conjured by Flitwick, shuddered at Headless Nick's current state, and approached Xavier, planting a maternal hand on the boy's shoulder. "Come on, Mr. Desmond, let's go."

Xavier nodded curtly and began to leave with Professor Sprout. He spared one more glance at Harry, who was ambling by McGonagall's side with a dejected look. Is she taking him to Dumbledore?

"Professor Sprout," Xavier addressed as they left the corridor. "I know Professor McGonagall requested that I got back to class, but I really don't want to face my classmates just yet. They'll just interrogate me incessantly and I… I can't get over what I saw just yet…"

This seemed to accumulate sympathy from the Herbology professor, and she emitted a deep sigh. "Oh, alright, Mr. Desmond. We can stay here for a few minutes, I'm sure Professor McGonagall won't be long. But once she returns, you will have to join her, understand?"

"Absolutely," Xavier responded respectfully. "Thanks, Professor Sprout." Who could be the Heir? I literally watched Harry approach Justin and Headless Nick on the map… could it be him? Damn! It can't be Harry! It just can't be…

Albus Dumbledore's P.O.V:

Headmaster's Quarters - Tuesday, December 15th, 1992 (11:25 a.m.)

"Is it time, my old friend?" Albus asked, smiling faintly at Fawkes, who had reached the frailest and shrivelled stage of his eternal lifespan.

Fawkes gave a sluggish, raspy squawk in return and Albus nodded. I'll see you once more…

Fawkes shut his weary, droopy eyes and after a few more decrepit feathers fell out of his tail, the brilliant bird burst into a ball of flame, shrieking loudly and becoming a pile of ash.

Albus caught himself from letting a tear escape his eye; Burning day was always a tough one for Albus.

However, as a tiny beak appeared from the ashes, followed by a head, Albus' smile widened and he cupped Fawkes' minuscule form in his calloused hands and whispered, "Welcome back, dear friend."

Rapid knocking on the door steered Albus away from the moment with his beloved pet and as he set Fawkes down, he said aloud, "Come in."

Minerva came in hastily, followed by an anxious-looking Harry. Merlin, this can't be good…

"Morning, Minerva," Albus greeted, his eyes twinkling. "Morning to you as well, Harry. What do I owe the pleasure?"

"Albus, it's happened again," Minerva informed urgently, and Albus lost his smile. "There's been two attacks." Two?!

"Explain," Albus' eyes hardened and the immediate covet to protect the castle and his students came crashing upon him like waves in the harshest storm.

"It's better if Mr. Potter here does instead, Albus," Minerva stepped aside to reveal the whole of Harry and the bespectacled boy, who had been too busy taking in the room with an awed look, failed to make eye contact with Albus.

"Professor, I-"

The door suddenly burst open, revealing Hagrid, who was holding what seemed to be a dead rooster in one hand.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir!" Hagrid addressed frantically, panting loudly in between words. "It wasn't Harry, I swear! He's been framed!"

"Hagrid-"

"You have ter believe me, professor! Harry would never do such a thin'! I swear on me dad's life I spoke to him not so long ago! He couldn't have done it tha' quickly!" Hagrid continued as the snowflakes entangled in his beard plummeted to the floor. "I'll swear in front of the Ministry if I have ter-"

"Hagrid," Albus raised his voice, causing Hagrid to finally stop with a sheepish look. "It's quite alright. I believe Mr. Potter isn't capable of such actions."

"Oh," Hagrid muttered, while a relieved glint appeared in Harry's emerald-like eyes.

"Why in Merlin's name are you carrying that, Hagrid?" Minerva enquired with a frown.

"Never mind, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid started to back out. "I was goin' ter originally see Professor Dumbledore about… somethin' killin' my roosters yer see… it's alrigh', I'll come back another time."

"Minerva, can you please see Hagrid out and return afterwards," Albus requested, and Minerva obliged, leading Hagrid out of the office.

"Professor, you believe that I'm not the Heir of Slytherin?" Harry asked, looking up at Albus.

"No, Harry," Albus replied softly. "This is the work of someone or something far more malevolent." More than any student… "I still ask that you tell me what occurred."

Harry took a deep breath and proceeded to relay his version of the events that happened. By the end, Albus felt dreadful about how another one of his students was petrified, but he was most dismayed about Headless Nick's fate. This is grave news indeed… the Board will most definitely not like this… Is no one truly safe from the Heir's wrath?

"And it was Mr. Desmond who found you as you discovered Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas in their petrified state?" Albus repeated and Harry nodded fervently, an odd glint gleaming in his eyes. So, he thinks it too… Mr. Desmond's opportune arrival is inexplicable. I must question him at once.

The door opened once again as Minerva came strolling in, to which Albus said, "Minerva, can you fetch Mr. Desmond for me? I believe I would like to hear his version of events, if you won't mind."

"Certainly, Albus," Minerva disappeared once more and Albus sighed as he seated himself in his high-backed chair and intertwined his fingers in concentration.

"Sir…" Harry's voice caused Albus to acknowledge him with a paternal smile. "Does Sirius know that I'm a… Parselmouth?"

"By now, it is likely, my boy," Albus responded, feeling pitiful on Harry's behalf.

"Do you think he will be afraid of me?" Harry's voice dropped to a whisper and the scrawny boy looked horrified at the prospect.

"Your godfather loves you very much, I assure you, Harry," Albus reassured, reaching over and squeezing the boy's shoulder. "I suggest you write to him if this predicament is really tormenting you."

Harry nodded, looking more comforted at Albus' words, and Albus gazed at the boy with his penetrating, electric-blue eyes. All throughout Harry's story, Albus had gotten the hunch that Harry had wanted to say things but had restrained himself. It was crucial for Albus to know, because fifty years ago, he had dismissed the impulse to pursue vetting his student's statements and he paid dearly for it.

"Harry, is there anything else you would like to tell me?" Albus queried. "Anything at all?" Harry, who was thrown off by the question, took a good moment before looking back at Albus.

"No, professor…" Harry replied. "Nothing at all." He's lying…

"Very well," Albus sighed, leaning back in his chair. His temples ached and his mind fired with various thoughts, all correlating to the latest events at Hogwarts. Though Harry exhibited an extremely rare and stigmatised ability, Albus didn't believe that Harry was the perpetrator behind the attacks.

Albus concealed a shudder when he felt a wave of dark magic wash over him. He already knew who was at the door before they even knocked. "Come in."

"Here's Mr. Desmond, as requested," Minerva said as Albus gestured for Xavier to sit next to Harry.

"You may resume your class, Minerva," Albus permitted as the dark-skinned boy sat down with an aloof look. "I'm sure your students are wondering where you are."

"Thank you, Albus," Minerva replied, and she departed the office once and for all.

"I presume you would like to hear about my involvement in this matter, sir?" Xavier questioned, and Albus smiled at the boy's formal vernacular.

"If it won't be a problem, dear boy," Albus responded, his eyes twinkling once more. "Mr. Potter here has already confided in me about his version of events. Naturally, it's best that I hear from your point of view as well."

"Of course, professor," Xavier nodded tersely. "Well, I was coming back from the lavatory, and I believe that class might have already started by then. As I made myself to the ground floor, I heard Peeves wailing about ghosts being in danger and I obviously thought it was some joke of his. But I also heard him raving about a petrification deliriously and that's when I changed routes. He mentioned the location several times and by chance, I found myself in the same corridor where Harry was when he was inspecting Justin and Headless Nick."

"And it was your idea to page Professor McGonagall?" Albus queried, eyeing Xavier closely.

"Yes," Xavier answered truthfully. "By the time we got back, Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout were already there. They had heard Peeve's yelling too." That seems… plausible…

"Sir, he's telling the truth," Harry piped up, and Albus nodded softly.

"I know, I believe you both," Albus replied absent-mindedly as he stroked his beard in thought. Why am I doubting Xavier here? He's a brilliant boy with convivial qualities… I'm too focused on the dark magic that emanates from him…

"Sir… how do we stop this?" Xavier asked, and Harry listened avidly. Albus broke into a fond smile; these two and their friends were always trying to put a stop to the problems at Hogwarts and it touched Albus for some reason.

"I'm afraid I do not have all the answers, boys," Albus answered tiredly. "I believe it's time to start taking safety measures more seriously and even impose curfews and other boundaries. This way, whoever this perpetrator is, will have a harder time pursuing any victims."

Theodore Nott's P.O.V:

The Great Hall - Tuesday, December 15th, 1992 (1:20 p.m.)

The tension was palpable, and the atmosphere was intense. If a stranger was to arrive through Hogwarts' doors, they would immediately notice the current mood of the castle. And here I thought the Heir was losing their touch…

When Professor McGonagall had taken Xavier and left, the class had digressed into a frenzy. Theo's Gryffindor year-mates had eyed him and his fellow Slytherins with apprehension for the whole period, albeit both groups were too busy discussing the latest petrification for any sort of confrontation to ensue.

In the end, Professor McGonagall had returned, but Xavier hadn't. And when Ron had questioned the Head of Gryffindor, she had ordered him to continue taking notes and the rest of the class was endured in silence, however, everyone could see that McGonagall was troubled, which put them all on edge.

Apparently, everyone's knowledge of Justin Finch-Fletchley and Headless Nick's petrification was attributed to the ghosts, mainly Peeves.

A rumour had surfaced that Harry Potter was behind it, which was heavily encouraged by Peeves as he was the one who had forged such a tale.

Other theories were concocted about how Xavier was involved as well, but the focus was mainly on the boy-who-lived. At the current moment, Harry Potter was the number one suspect, and this didn't look good for the Gryffindors, because now people were willing to go to such lengths of arguing that the Heir of Slytherin wasn't even from Slytherin.

While Theo didn't feel any sort of way for Justin Finch-Fletchley, he could somewhat sympathise with what the Hufflepuffs, specifically Justin's friends, were feeling, as he would never dream of his own friends getting petrified. I'd never let the Heir see the light of day if one of mine were petrified.

Now, the Hufflepuffs looked hesitant about siding with Gryffindor, and some seemed to be enraged on Justin's behalf, pointing the finger at Harry Potter. Guess all it took was for one of theirs to be petrified for them to start accusing the other Houses…

But what stunned Theo was hearing about Headless Nick's similar state. How in Merlin's beard could a ghost be affected?! Was no one really safe then? Would the Heir start to go for Pure-bloods and even the professors?!

"Theo, did you hear what I said?" Tracey's voice brought Theo back to the present. He blinked several times before staring at the brunette.

"Can you repeat it please?" Theo asked, and Tracey huffed indignantly.

"I said that we should go look for Xavier," Tracey suggested.

"Bad idea," Blaise criticised. "I say we wait until Xavier shows up. He might be processing what he saw and doesn't want to be disturbed right now."

"Agreed," Theo added in, turning to his untouched plate of food. "Let's just try to eat something."

"My appetite is gone," Millie murmured, pushing her plate away.

"Mine too," Pansy copied Millie, and her eyes darted over to the Hufflepuff table. "I've never seen badgers so riled up before."

"What did you expect?" Daphne sighed, lowering her cutlery. "One of theirs was isolated and targeted. Not to mention that it was Finch-Fletchley out of the lot and no one has forgotten about what occurred at Professor Lockhart's duelling club."

"I'm surprised at how Finch-Fletchley got any solitude in the first place," Tracey pointed out. "As far as I know, his Housemates had stuck to him like glue."

"Well, the Heir clearly waited for the right moment and struck when Finch-Fletchley was alone," Blaise said darkly, sending chills down everyone's spine.

"Or perhaps it was a perfect opportunity," Theo chimed in.

"Can you two stop it?" Pansy frowned widely. "At this rate, I'm going to have trouble sleeping in my own down!"

"Besides, these are all speculations," Millie piped in. "We'll have to ask Xavier when we find him."

"Or maybe not," Ron spoke up for the first time in a while. His brow was furrowed as he gazed at the entrance of the Great Hall. "Xavier's over there."

Theo and his friends all turned their heads quickly in the direction Ron was leading them off to and found Xavier calmly approaching them with an aloof visage. Whispers erupted around the Great Hall and some eyed him with fear, while others were disappointed that it wasn't the boy-who-lived that had turned up.

"Where have you been?" Daphne demanded as Theo and Blaise made space for Xavier to sit in between them. Xavier stared at her before he looked at each of his friends and he emitted an exhausted sigh.

"Dumbledore's office," Xavier replied truthfully. "He was interrogating me."

"Tell us everything, mate," Ron requested firmly, and everyone leaned in keenly. Yes, you have our undivided attention.

Xavier cleared his breath, taking a few seconds to process what he was about to say, and he looked at his friends. "I was coming back from the loo when I heard Peeves screaming about something. Naturally, I ignored the prick because we all know about his antics. But he kept raving on about a petrification and honestly, it was the sincerest he had ever sounded in my opinion."

"Anyway, I decided to investigate this petrification he was going on about as he literally pointed me in the direction of it. I found myself in this corridor - I think it's just one of those many corridors in the castle, alright? - and I kept walking until I see Harry standing over Justin's body, while Headless Nick was hovering nearby."

"Fucking hell…" Ron muttered, going pale.

"So, the rumours are true, then…" Daphne whispered while Pansy clapped a hand over her mouth at Xavier's grisly tale. "Even the ghosts aren't safe?"

"I'm afraid not," Xavier responded grimly, and Theo felt his heartbeat increase rapidly. "I was shocked beyond words when I saw Headless Nick, believe me."

"What did Potter say?" Millie questioned, shooting a glance at the Gryffindor table.

"He immediately denied any involvement of Justin and Headless Nick's petrification," Xavier answered.

"Do you believe him?" Tracey asked, and everyone fixed their eyes on Xavier. For a second, he seemed dubious to answer, and Theo made a note of it. Does he suspect Potter?

"No," Xavier replied after a sigh. "I didn't actually see him do anything. Even then, I find it extremely hard to believe that it could be him. Yes, I am biased because I'm his friend. But I'm not blind, I promise you."

"Damn… it must have been frightening to see that, right?" Tracey asked, and Xavier made no reply. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the Gryffindor table.

"I haven't seen Hermione or Neville since, mate," Ron informed, noticing Xavier's behaviour.

"They're probably with Harry," Xavier replied. "He's probably in his dorm room right now. He doesn't want to face the Hufflepuffs, I'd bet."

"What did the headmaster ask you?" Daphne questioned.

"He just asked about my involvement in the situation and how I found Harry," Xavier answered, piling some food onto his plate.

"Wait, so you heard Peeves yelling about the petrification?" Theo queried, and Xavier nodded as he chewed his food slowly.

"Funny," Blaise looked thoughtful. "Surely we would hear it too, right?" Exactly…

"Well, Professor Flitwick and Sprout heard it," Xavier stated after swallowing his food.

"They were there as well?" Theo cocked an eyebrow. "When you found Potter?"

"No, when I took McGonagall to the corridor, they were there," Xavier responded, and there was a tinge of irritation in his tone. "They probably reached the corridor after I left it to retrieve McGonagall." Blaise nodded slowly, however, Theo didn't. Something didn't fit. Perhaps it was the logical side of Theo's mind, but he had a strange inkling that Xavier was lying.

As Xavier continued eating and everyone else began to break off into little conversations, Theo found himself replaying Xavier's explanation in his head over and over again. Am I being asinine? Or is there something off about Xavier's explanation?

Naturally, the girls would never doubt Xavier. Neither would Ron. Blaise, on the other hand, relied on logic more than emotion, much like Theo did and had the idiosyncrasy to figure out the whole puzzle when pieces were missing.

Theo prized himself in reading his best mate's thoughts and moods, far better than the girls, Ron and Xavier, but he couldn't seem to pick up anything from Blaise. Bloody hell… maybe I'm being irrational and paranoid… Xavier's one of my best mates, what reason do I have to doubt him?

Ginny Weasley's P.O.V:

Something wasn't right. How had Ginny been walking to class by herself one minute to waking up in her dorm room right after? Something was terribly wrong. And it was all inexplicable to Ginny. Was she losing her bloody mind?

Why was there a ravel of feathers strewn on her second-hand robes? Why did she radiate the irrefutable stench of blood? Why was she suffering these bizarre time distortions? Why did she feel the need to reach out to Tom every waking second of her day?

Tom was also acting peculiarly. Tom's sweet-talking and incessant compliments were part of the old days. Recently, he was beginning to take an interest into the people around Ginny. People like Harry, people like Ron, and even people like Xavier. Ginny didn't know if she was jealous, possessive, or baffled by this change, but she certainly didn't like or coveted to reinforce it.

All the while, students were getting petrified, and this terrified Ginny to her core. What if she was next? She'd been intentionally detaching herself from the crowd and now with all these puzzling occurrences she was experiencing, she could easily make herself a target. Then again, it was rumoured that the Heir was after those with a Muggle percentage.

When Ginny had learned of Colin Creevey's petrification, she was beyond disheartened; she was devastated. Albeit Colin Creevey was quite annoying, especially whenever he whipped out his camera, he was one of the only few to treat Ginny with kindness and amicability. He was gregarious and simply wanted to form a friendship with his fellow Gryffindor year-mates, which included Ginny.

What was going wrong? She couldn't go to her brothers because she had already cut them off from her like rotten branches of a tree. It was like someone, or something was controlling Ginny whenever they or it pleased. Ginny didn't know how much longer she could take her adversity… she couldn't make any sense of it.

Ron Weasley's P.O.V:

Chess Club - Sunday, December 20th, 1992 (10:10 a.m.)

"Anyway, the majority of Ravenclaw think it's him now," Mandy sighed deeply, leaning back in her armchair. "They think Potter has something to do with it."

"It's pretty much the same on our end too," Kevin informed, scratching his chin. "Earnie and Wayne are really pissed off about it and most of the girls are frightened." Guess Xavier jinxed it. As soon as a badger got petrified, the rest of the badgers become paranoid and accusatory. This doesn't help my plan. Now, I'll have to be extra picky when it comes to selecting people to join my group.

"You badgers seriously don't think Harry did this, right?" Fay asked, and Ron looked up.

"I… I dunno what to think…" Lily answered hesitantly, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I mean… how can anyone account for Potter's remarkable talent of speaking with snakes? That can't be coincidental!" Bloody hell… even these guys are starting to be swayed…

"Can't blame any of you for being suspicious of Harry," Ron chimed in. "His Parseltongue ability was definitely a contingency that I could never even dream of. But, come on, let's think of this practically, eh? Why would Harry attack a Muggle-born?"

"Hermione Granger is one of his best friends and she's a Muggle-born herself," Fay added in, and Ron nodded firmly.

"Exactly," Ron replied. "I think he was in the wrong place and the wrong time. Now, believe me, I've been up these past few nights, having doubts myself. I mean, it sounds very plausible for Harry to be the heir. However, there are missing puzzle pieces and I personally do not think that this was Harry's work."

"Blimey, how do you even attack a ghost?" Fay piped up, shivering at the mere thought. "How can the dead experience the impacts of the heir as well? Surely that's… impossible…" Fuck me, I'm getting chills just thinking about it.

"The Heir's more potent and dangerous than I thought," Kevin admitted, his brow furrowed. "If they can target ghosts, there's no telling how far this 'Heir of Slytherin' person is going to go."

"The Heir needs to be stopped," Mandy said firmly. Agreed.

"Speaking of which, I'm going to need some time to figure out what to do with my idea," Ron apprised, rubbing his hands together. "Xavier's working on a room to hold our meetings. And now with this recent circumstance, I'm going to have to contemplate more thoroughly over who should be in our group. I trust that you lot can be attentive in recruiting any friends or housemates?"

"Certainly, Ron," Lily responded. "I suggest you ponder over this through the Christmas break."

"I plan to," Ron returned, rubbing his temples. "Speaking of which, I'm presuming that you lot are going home for Christmas?"

"Absolutely," Kevin and Lily answered immediately.

"Most definitely," Fay replied firmly.

"There's no way I'm staying behind," Mandy added in. "What about you?"

"I'm contemplating it," Ron responded, earning surprised looks from the others. "I've been invited over to Harry's place since now he can reside at his godfather's home, but I think that I should stay, just in case…"

"Just in case for what?" Fay enquired curiously. Just in case Ginny's all alone here… I can't just leave her behind.

"Merlin, this Heir of Slytherin cunt is really doing me head in," Ron swiftly deflected Fay's question.

"Couldn't have said it better, mate," Kevin agreed wholeheartedly, and the girls nodded, though they tutted at Ron's profanity.

"How's Potter holding up, Fay?" Mandy questioned.

"He's… avoiding everyone," Fay answered, sighing gently. "Neville and Hermione are by his side, there's no question about that. But to be completely honest, some of the Gryffindors are feeling… er, to put in better words, vigilant around him right about now."

"Even his own House are distrustful of him?" Lily queried.

"No, not distrustful. Some just don't know what to think, is all," Fay clarified. "Everyone believed that the Heir of Slytherin was, as its label suggested, from Slytherin. Now that Harry is the number one suspect, no one can be sure to pin the suspicions on Slytherin House anymore."

"I'm guessing you have no inkling on who it could be, Ron?" Kevin presumed, and Ron shook his head.

"Nah, mate. Haven't got a bloody clue," Ron replied in a disgruntled manner; he wanted to know so badly and expose the twat to the whole world. Perhaps, I may get some clues tonight… hopefully Hermione's plan doesn't go to utter shit. Why do I get the feeling it will?

Xavier Desmond's P.O.V:

The Library - Sunday, December 20th, 1992 (10:15 a.m.)

"Will there be a repeat of last time?" Madam Pince enquired, narrowing her eyes in a deterring manner.

"No, Madam Pince, there won't be any ruckus at all, I assure you," Xavier replied truthfully. "Besides, I'm here on my own."

Madam Pince eyed Xavier closely for a few more seconds before nodding curtly and responding, "Very well. You may proceed."

Xavier nodded tersely and began wandering around the vast library, in search of books regarding serpents and Parseltongue.

For a while, Xavier trotted through different aisles and stacks, examining different books on magical beasts before something caught his attention. Valerie was seated at a recluse table, which was over pouring with several books, and seemed to be immersed in one attentively. Should I approach her? Perhaps…

Xavier slowly returned a book on dragons to its allocated place and cautiously moved towards where Valerie was sitting. Hopefully, she doesn't cause a scene. Can't blame her if she does, though.

It wasn't until Xavier was just inches away from the table that he finally garnered Valerie's awareness. Valerie looked up from her book and was stunned to see Xavier standing in front of her. Damn, this is awkward.

"Mind if I join you?" Xavier asked dubiously and, much to his surprise, Valerie nodded vigorously, pushing books away to create space for Xavier to sit next to her.

"Sorry about the mess," Valerie apologised, looking flushed all of a sudden.

"No, don't be," Xavier dismissed quietly, aiding Valerie in moving books to one corner of the table. "If anyone should be sorry about anything, it should be me."

Valerie ceased what she was doing and slowly stared at Xavier, anticipating for him to continue. Xavier cleared his throat, glanced at his surroundings and leaned in closer.

"I'm sure Deandre has already told you, but I just want to apologise for my words the last time we spoke," Xavier began sincerely. "I was being ignorant and insensitive. I knew it was a mistake the second you started going off on me about your personal problems and I should have intervened and apologised right then and there. Now, if forgiveness isn't possible, I completely understand-"

"Xavier, I forgive you," Valerie interjected, and Xavier cocked an eyebrow.

"You sure?" Xavier asked, schooling his delight.

"I've been thinking about all the points you brought up the last time we spoke, and I guess I can't blame you for thinking so," Valerie explained with a sigh.

"It was just potential factors, not conjectures or facts," Xavier quickly reassured.

"I know, I get it," Valerie replied, and she broke into a giggle, concealing her mouth to reduce any noise. "If I had known you would come to me with an apology that could take up the parchment length that Professor Binns always requests us to hand in whenever we get homework, I would have braced myself."

"Hey, I was just trying to be earnest," Xavier feigned a pout, causing Valerie to giggle again.

"I know, and it was sweet," Valerie responded, smiling widely. "I forgive you completely, Xavier." Brilliant!

"I appreciate your compassion, Val," Xavier noted, his lips forming a small smile. Thank Merlin, I've missed talking to her and the other two.

"So, do you still think I'm a possible suspect?" Valerie queried curiously.

"I don't know what to think anymore. We both know who's the number one suspect at the moment," Xavier replied, and Valerie lost her merriment as she adorned a serious look.

"Yeah… these last few weeks have been… eventful, to say the least, right?" Valerie whispered, and Xavier chuckled mirthlessly.

"Indeed," Xavier agreed. "Harry Potter is an undeniable Parselmouth and two petrifications have occurred, one of which was inexplicably a bloody ghost."

"You saw it, didn't you?" Valerie pointed out softly, studying Xavier closely. "When you burst into the classroom that day, you looked desperate and alarmed. I've never seen that look on you before. What… what was it like?"

"It was… intriguing… and baffling… but truly terrifying," Xavier whispered, the recollection of the memory playing in his mind. "Seeing your mate standing over a Hufflepuff's stiff body while a ghost is suspended in the air, not moving an inch was simply eerie and incomprehensible to me. Everything felt like a red flag in that moment, you get me?"

"By the soul of Sayre… yeah, that must have been horrifying," Valerie whispered, shivering slightly. "Are you… are you okay?"

Xavier looked down to see Valerie's hand over his, and it brought a sense of comfort and serenity to him. "I am now."

Valerie smiled at that and extended her arms, and Xavier raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes, people honestly just need a hug, you know?" Valerie clarified, and she beckoned Xavier closer. "Don't worry, I won't bite."

Xavier allowed Valerie to wrap her arms around his torso and resisted the urge to detach himself. Valerie squeezed him for a few seconds, burying her head in Xavier's neck and he was able to get a whiff of her hair. Hmm, her hair smells really nice. Wait, what the fuck is wrong with me-

"Earth to Xavier? Is my hug so egregious that you've been petrified or what?" Valerie teased, and Xavier emitted a chuckle, before returning the hug and squeezing Valerie back. This is nice. The lads would take the mickey out of me if they ever caught me in this position. And the girls… God knows what they would say. Tracey and Pansy would probably coo at me all day long… as for Daphne… bloody hell, that wouldn't be good.

"Seems like you enjoyed that hug," Valerie noted, smiling up at Xavier as they released one another.

"I'm assuming you got the idea from Demelza?" Xavier guessed, and Valerie tilted her head. "You told me that she was great at giving advice and consoling others, remember?"

"Well, you're not wrong in your hypothesis," Valerie confessed, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "Demelza is, for some reason that only God knows, extremely clever when it comes to soothing people and advising them."

"Well, either way, thanks for the hug, Val," Xavier replied, blushing a little. "Oddly enough, it was actually quite soothing-"

"So, you thought that my hugs would be abysmal beforehand, huh?" Valerie feigned a scandalised tone.

"Correct," Xavier joked, and Valerie huffed 'exasperatedly'. "No, seriously, I mean it, Val, thanks for it. I guess I wasn't expecting one right after making amends with you."

"Anytime, Xavier," Valerie smiled, looking pleased with herself. "You can always confide in me too, if you'd like." Why do I always get the feeling that Valerie wants to strengthen our friendship for some other reason?

"Same goes for you," Xavier returned, and a sincere look replaced his jovial one. "Speaking of which, I think we should discuss your personal problems, specifically, this voice you've been hearing. The one you described as sounding like 'hisses'. I reckon I've figured out something about you, but I'm not entirely certain if you're aware of it." Here goes nothing.

Valerie blinked multiple times at Xavier and her eyes widened slightly. "So, you know." What? So, she knows? Is she trying to insinuate that she knows that she's a Parselmouth?

"No need to be so vague, Valerie," Xavier assured, his countenance turning emotionless. "A clarification could be useful here."

"You know that I'm a Parselmouth?" Valerie questioned, and she looked slightly apprehensive. Xavier schooled any indication of realisation. So, it's true, then.

"You and Harry Potter are the only two that have admitted to hearing voices in the walls, which have both led you to victims in their petrified state," Xavier informed. "On that night, when the duelling club was held, Harry spoke Parseltongue. Everyone heard him hissing and spitting. But you… I observed you from a distance. You looked like you were panicking… it seemed like you understood what Harry was saying." Fuck, I hope I'm not scaring her.

Valerie drew in a sharp breath and her olive eyes revealed her fear. "Harry Potter hears those voices… too?" Should I have told her that?

"Don't relay it to anyone else," Xavier ordered firmly. "But yes, and it makes sense, doesn't it?"

Xavier subsequently endured a long silence as Valerie appeared to be lost in an unequivocal whirlwind of thoughts and he could just about hear the sounds of other students writing with their quills, stumbling around to locate a book and the wisps of chatter from all over the library.

"Valerie, talk to me," Xavier whispered, harbouring a gentler tone and he took her hand into his to ensure a sense of trust. "Look, if this is true, then it confirms other suspicions that I have."

"Yes… I heard the words he was saying to the snake that night," Valerie conceded quietly. "He was commanding the snake to back off. He and I are both Parselmouths." And me, for that matter. Looks like she's telling the truth and clearly, she is a Parselmouth as I heard the same words spewing out of Harry's mouth that night too.

"Hear me out, Val," Xavier started. "I reckon there's a snake of sorts inhabiting Hogwarts, traversing around to petrify all these victims."

"Oh my God, I do too!" Valerie exclaimed in a whisper.

"You do?"

"Look, there are only three other people that know I'm a Parselmouth," Valerie apprised firmly. "Demelza, Deandre and my great aunt. I sent an owl to her that day, the one where you strongly advised against it, about hearing this voice in the walls. She believes that it's a magical serpent that I've been hearing." Oh, shit. Guess Valerie's great aunt is already in the ballpark.

"If we're correct in our assumptions, then the real question is, what type of serpent are we looking at here?" Xavier enquired, and Valerie retrieved various books on the table.

"That's what I've been doing lately," Valerie informed excitedly, flipping through the pages of one particular book hastily. "I've been scouring for any magical creature that could fit the description that I, and clearly you, have in mind."

"Brilliant, I actually came here to do the same," Xavier praised, perusing an illustration of the Runespoor. "Anything to mention?"

"No, nothing, unfortunately," Valerie sighed in disappointment. "So far, I haven't come across a serpent that petrifies its victim. I'm sure I've only touched the surface, though."

"Fair enough, I guess we'll have to keep looking," Xavier replied, and he smirked. "Unless it's secretly a student disguised as a Medusa-like figure, then I have my bets that it really is a serpent."

"Ha, Medusa! Imagine," Valerie smirked back. "That could be somewhat plausible. After all, Medusa has snakes for hair and can essentially petrify someone, except she really just turns them into stone."

"We might be onto something," Xavier's brow furrowed, and he stroked his chin in 'deep thought'. "Who do you think could be the Medusa of Hogwarts?"

"Hm, I don't know," Valerie responded impishly. "Maybe it's some bimbo in Slytherin."

"I dunno, I reckon it's McGonagall," Xavier joked, and Valerie gasped in shock, causing Xavier to guffaw uncontrollably. Blimey, her expression nearly killed me!

"That's so rude!" Valerie berated in a whisper, smacking Xavier's arm, though her lips were etching into a smile. "Professor McGonagall is one of the best professors here-"

"I'm merely joking, Val, bloody hell," Xavier cut off with a grin.

"Oh yeah? Well, I have my suspicions that this Medusa figure is actually you," Valerie remarked. "Those dreads of yours are nearly reaching your cheekbones. For all I know, they turn to snakes at your will."

"How dare you make such a comparison!" Xavier feigned an appalled tone, causing Valerie to lapse into incessant giggles. "You may as well slap me across the face. I didn't know you Americans had it like that."

"Who knows, maybe I'm gradually adjusting to the environment of Brits around me," Valerie shrugged.

"Oh yeah?"

"Seriously, some of the conversations I've heard at mealtimes or even when I'm just walking by," Valerie shook her head. "I've never heard such foul vernacular nor the relentless banter between people. You rarely see that kind of thing back in the States."

"Is that so?" Xavier asked, his interest piqued. "Well, I'm glad I wasn't brought up there, then."

"No, don't get me wrong, America's wonderful," Valerie swiftly explicated. "That's where I was born and I will always feel that connection, you know? I'm just intrigued at how different two countries can be, albeit with certain similarities."

"And that's why difference breeds wonder," Xavier pointed out. "If everything were the same, in this case, if everyone was the same, looked the same, sounded the same, then God knows how dull that must be."

"Hear, hear," Valerie replied, nodding her agreement. "It would be very mundane."

"I think I want to visit America someday," Xavier leaned back to ponder the idea. "I reckon it would be a great experience." Blimey, the idea of visiting another country has never even crossed my mind before. He missed Valerie's eyes flashing at the opportunity.

"Do you have any particular State in mind?" Valerie queried curiously.

"Hmm, I'm not sure," Xavier answered, contemplating Valerie's question. "I mean, one of my good friends, Tracey Davis, has a cousin named Travis Davis. He's from Connecticut and she told it was wonderful when she visited-"

"Oh yeah, Travis Davis," Valerie's eyes widened as a smile graced her lips. "I remember him quite well. He and Deandre hit it off from the start of the year. They were as thick as thieves. Then again, Deandre was popular with a lot of people. Wow, I didn't know Tracey Davis was his cousin."

"Well, there you go, every day you learn something new, eh?" Xavier smirked, and he brandished his wand. "Tempus." Bloody hell, it's been nearly thirty minutes, we better get a crack on!

"Anyway, we've digressed immensely," Xavier reminded, and Valerie nodded fervently, composing herself. "Should we look through these books."

"Sure thing, Xavier," Valerie concurred, and she passed three books over to Xavier. Alright, let's try to find this mysterious serpent.

Harry Potter's P.O.V:

The Great Hall - Sunday, December 20th, 1992 (7:30 p.m.)

"Bottom's up!"

Harry and Neville clunked their glasses, pinches their noses, and chugged the murky, Polyjuice potion containing the essence of Crabbe and Goyle. The taste was utterly diabolical. Though successful at guzzling the first three-quarters of the revolting potion, both Harry and Neville struggled to gulp down the remaining quarter as its horrid tang was causing their throats to burn and their eyes to water.

The effect was immediate when they finished the potion. Harry felt his insides squirming and contorting, making him drop down to all fours and he gaped widely, not able to produce a sound.

"I… I think I'm going to be sick…" Neville rasped, swaying violently and he attempted to reach one of the cubicles, to which Harry heard Xavier rushing over, most likely to hold Neville steady.

"Harry," Hermione whispered breathlessly, kneeling beside him in an instant when Harry groaned in agony. He felt as though his skin was melting and being moulded into a new shape, all the while his limbs grew erratically.

For a moment, Harry's heart pounded strenuously as pain erupted in various areas of his body and he heard Hermione gasp from his left. The pain subsided and Harry slowly got to his feet and took a look in the mirror. Blimey… this is so bizarre…

When he gazed into the mirror, he found Gregory Goyle gazing back. It was surreal. No lightning bolt scar, no horrendous eyesight, no scrawniness, and no messy, jet-black hair. A second later, Vincent Crabbe emerged from the cubicle, with a look of pure shock plastered on his face.

"Merlin, if only Ron could see this…" Xavier muttered, his eyes widening.

"It worked!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly and she looked rather pleased with herself.

"H-Harry?" Neville – or rather Crabbe – stammered.

"Neville?" Harry returned, still reeling from shock. "Guess it worked, then?"

"Yeah…" Neville mumbled, examining his wide palms and sausage-like fingers.

"Alright, everything seems to be in order," Xavier spoke up, clearing his throat and adorning a serious look. "You two should get going. Everyone must be on their way to their Houses right about now."

"Find Malfoy and stick with him," Hermione instructed. "Don't be too interrogative, ok? I'm certain Crabbe and Goyle don't say much, not even with Malfoy."

"Just grunt and nod in agreement with everything Malfoy says," Xavier suggested. "Laugh every time he insults someone or makes a joke. And act really bloody daft, alright? Those two probably couldn't distinguish each other from a walrus riding a tricycle."

"Xavier and I will wait here," Hermione informed, looking slightly anxious. "Ron will most likely be with his friends, but he promised to keep an eye out on you two."

"Sounds good," Harry replied, nodding vigorously.

"Let's go," Neville added nervously, and the two boys began to lumber their way to the door.

"Oh, and Harry," Xavier called out, causing Harry to swiftly turn around. "Hand over your glasses."

"What? Oh, right," Harry delicately took off his glasses, not wanting to snap them with Goyle's meaty hands.

"Good luck," Hermione wished, appearing more uneasy than Harry and Neville themselves.

"Be cautious and get out of there if anything seems to be off," Xavier advised, taking the glasses from Harry's hand.

Harry grunted, trying to imitate Goyle, and it caused Xavier and Hermione to break into smiles. "Not bad, mate. Just do that and you'll be fine. You too, Neville."

Harry and Neville bid Xavier and Hermione goodbye and shuffled down to the dungeons in silence, carrying themselves in a manner that resembled the real Crabbe and Goyle, and they went over the questions they were going to ask Malfoy when the time came.

To their luck, they caught the Slytherins marching all together and hastily caught up with Malfoy, who looked bored out of his mind.

"There you two are!" Malfoy exclaimed, and he cocked an eyebrow at them. "Took your time, didn't you?"

Harry and Neville said nothing, which seemed to be an appropriate response as Malfoy continued leading them to the Slytherin Common Room. Malfoy started going on about quidditch and what Marcus Flint had in mind as tactics, which Harry kept note of, but his and Neville's attention was garnered away from Malfoy when they stepped inside the Slytherin Common Room.

It was a spacious area, drowned in dark colours, mainly green and silver, but there were darker shades to it. It sort of felt like the antithesis of the Gryffindor Common Room. Where the common room Harry lived in was lively, warm, and fancy, the common room that Ron and Xavier dwelled in was cold, damp and sort of prestigious. It really reflected the attitude and demeanour of the Slytherin cohort. No wonder the Slytherins are so cold most of the time…

Harry glanced at Neville and found his best mate staring at the immense windows that gave them a view of what was clearly underneath the surface of the lake with a curious look. Harry quickly nudged Neville, and his best mate fixed his expression with haste. Albeit Harry thought that the Gryffindor Common Room was far more inviting and pleasant, he almost felt calm inside the Slytherin Common Room and could appreciate the cool atmosphere.

"Anyway, Flint reckons that we can easily beat Hufflepuff and that we stand a chance against Ravenclaw," Malfoy's authoritative voice brought their attention back onto him. "We're getting better as a team now. After defeating Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, we'll be able to go head-to-head with the lions again. I'm hoping to catch the snitch and see the look on Saint Potter's face."

Harry let out a convincible snicker, ignoring Malfoy's comment, and Neville emulated it. The three sat down on some dark-leather couches by the fireplace with the desire of warming up. Harry quickly took a glance around and locked eyes with Ron, who was some distance away with his own friend group. Harry nodded subtly, and Ron seemed to get the message.

"… because of that Mudblood-loving fool Arthur Weasley, our manor was raided the other day," Malfoy informed bitterly, and Harry shifted his face to show slight concern. "I know… Father knew it was going to happen, that's why he was eager to sell a lot of commodities a few months back." That explains what you and your father were doing in that shop I ended up in…

"Obviously, we have all sorts of secret chambers to conceal our dark artefacts, so all was not lost," Malfoy smirked, while Harry and Neville just listened. "Father has a lot on his plate right now. If it weren't for the circumstances he was entangled in at the moment, he would probably be able to do something about the school's current events."

"Like what?" Harry asked meekly, trying to look as gormless as possible.

"Like sacking that old codger Dumbledore, Goyle!" Malfoy snapped. "That old fool is the worst thing that's ever happened to Hogwarts." You're wrong!

"Yeah… the Heir probably fears coming into contact with Dumbledore. If only Dumbledore wasn't the headmaster…" Neville cleverly stated. Malfoy and Harry were both highly impressed. For a split second, however, Harry was scared that Malfoy would see this as unusual from 'Crabbe', but the platinum-haired boy nodded fervently.

"Exactly, Crabbe, now you're getting it," Malfoy nodded vigorously. "That old man loves Mudbloods. If he didn't, the Heir would have wiped off all of the scum by now for good." Harry's heart sank and he schooled his resentment and disappointment.

"You haven't a clue of who it could be?" Neville questioned, making the same realisation as Harry.

"You already know I don't, Crabbe," Malfoy replied with a frustrated visage. "How many times do I have to tell you? All I know is that it's anyone but Saint Potter, that's for sure."

Harry and Neville exchanged glances, making sure to now reveal any flagrant dissatisfaction. So, it's not Malfoy. What a waste of time. Xavier and Ron were right.

"I mean, how could that scar-head be the great Heir of Slytherin?" Malfoy continued, sneering distastefully. "He's best friends with Granger, for Merlin's sake." Harry and Neville nodded dumbly, not sure how to respond without getting vexed with Malfoy.

A cruel grin graced Malfoy's lip as he leaned in closer and whispered, "Imagine the look on Potter and Longbottom's faces if that Mudblood Granger was petrified? Ha, I would pay everything in my trust fund vault to see it."

Harry clenched his fists tightly, while Neville adorned a glare, but fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice as he was too busy snickering about it. He then shot them a perplexed look and enquired, "What's the matter with you two?"

Harry and Neville quickly guffawed, which seemed to satisfy Malfoy, but he still gave them a weird look. "You two seem awfully off today." Time to steer things away from dangerous waters.

"Do you know anything about what happened last time the chamber was opened?" Harry queried, trying to look disinterested.

"Apparently, the perpetrator was discovered and expelled," Malfoy responded gravely, and Harry involuntarily furrowed his brow. "They were sent to Azkaban right after." Azkaban? The prison for wizards?

"Father knows a lot more, obviously, but as I said, he's far too busy right now to tell me more than he has let on in the past," Malfoy reminded, and he sighed deeply as he leaned back on the couch cushions. "I wish I knew who it was. I could help them. I wouldn't waste my time on meagre individuals like that silly boy with the camera – what's his name - oh right, Creevey. I would send the Heir in the direction of those like Granger." You really are the worst of the worst, aren't you, Malfoy?

"What's the matter with you, Crabbe?" Malfoy snapped, and Harry swivelled his head in Neville's direction. 'Crabbe' had clearly been glaring spitefully at Malfoy for his twisted words, but now he was clutching his stomach and scrunching his face in pain. Something was wrong with Neville, but before Harry could think, he felt his body start to transform once again. Their hour was up, and they were slowly reverting back to their true forms. Damn, we have to leave now!

"Where are you two going?" Malfoy demanded as Harry and Neville rose to their feet.

"Hospital wing," Harry groaned, limping away from Malfoy.

"Stomach aches," Neville clarified, and Harry's eyes widened as at his best mate. He was losing the appearance of Crabbe and was swiftly becoming his own body again. Harry could only say that the same was happening to him judging by Neville's panicky look directed at him.

"Oi, watch it!" someone scowled as Harry and Neville knocked into them. The two couldn't stop and apologise, they had to continue making their way out of the common room.

"Hold it right there!" came a female's voice and Harry suddenly felt a firm hand grab him by the scruff of his neck. No!

Harry looked back to see a tall, dark-haired boy pulling him and Neville back. The two boys attempted to relieve themselves of the Slytherin boy's grip but to no avail. No, this can't be happening!

"Well, well," the Slytherin boy that Harry recalled being Erik Burke, the male sixth-year Prefect, said menacingly. "Who do we have here?"

"If I'm not mistaken, we have two Gryffindors right in front of our eyes, Erik," Selene Selwyn, the female sixth-year Prefect, declared coldly.

"What's going on here?" came Malfoy's voice as a crowd of Slytherins began to form around them. "What are you doing with those two-"

Malfoy was never able to finish his sentence as a look of horror dawned upon his face, one that Harry had never seen before nor thought he would ever see.

"Potter? Longbottom?" Malfoy asked incredulously as a collective gasp emanated around the room; it was the first time that Harry and Neville's names were addressed by Malfoy without any tinge of contempt or ridicule. We're doomed… the plan was an epic failure…

"What in Merlin's beard are these two doing here?" one Slytherin asked, sneering heavily.

"How did they even get here undetected?" another Slytherin enquired, while whispers and looks of shock swept the room. Harry spotted Ron and his clique not so far away, and he caught Ron's look of dread. I shouldn't let him intervene… I don't want him to get into trouble as well.

"Well?" Selene asked, gazing at the two Gryffindors with a penetrating stare.

Harry and Neville exchanged slow looks, and Harry could see that Neville was on the verge of hyperventilating. His gran was going to lose her mind upon hearing the news of her grandson infiltrating the Slytherin Common Room.

"Wait, hold on, there is a more pressing matter at hand," Malfoy suddenly spoke up, looking infuriated and… worried. "I just spoke to these two who were under the disguise as my two friends. So, where are they? Where is the real Crabbe and Goyle?"

Everyone's eyes fell back on Harry and Neville, who were now squirming under the ice-cold, vengeful gazes of the snakes. Harry was almost certain that the Slytherins were about to initiate an unspeakable act just to make him and Neville talk. What do we do?! We can't just tell them every little thing that we did for this plan to be enacted!

"If these two won't talk, I say we go for a more superior decision," Gemma Farley, the Slytherin Head Girl, advised smoothly. "I say we go to Professor Snape and explain the situation. That way, he can deal with Potter and Longbottom here, and they'll probably admit to where the real Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle are."

"They're hidden in a broom closet," Harry blurted out, and this immediately captured everyone's attention. "Look, we broke into here because we were… highly suspicious of Malfoy being… you know, the Heir of Slytherin. Turning into Crabbe and Goyle was the only way we could do it, but I promise you, we meant them no harm."

"You turned into them?" a Slytherin fourth-year questioned, while Malfoy looked astonished beyond words. "As in you concocted the Polyjuice potion and used their essence to transform into them?"

Harry and Neville nodded reluctantly, and a wave of whispers engulfed them all once again. Malfoy looked simply outraged.

"That's quite clever," a third-year Slytherin 'praised' with an intimidating smirk, and Harry cringed internally. Don't look at me like that!

"This is… this is… this is…" Malfoy spluttered, turning red with rage. "My father will hear about this! I will make sure that he sees to your expulsion and-"

"Calm down, Malfoy," Selene warned, and Malfoy glared in her direction.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Selwyn!" Malfoy spat out. "These two drugged my friends and made their way into our noble common room, all the while under the guise of my two missing friends! I have no doubt that their filthy Mudblood friend Granger was the one who procured the Polyjuice potion for them!"

"Don't call her that!" Harry snapped automatically, and Malfoy's eye twitched.

"You dare look in my direction-"

"Alright, that's enough," Erik stepped in firmly. "Gemma, can you kindly retrieve Professor Snape for us? I want to get this over with already."

"Gladly," Gemma Farley made her way out of the Slytherin Common Room, and Harry groaned internally. This is it… we're going to have to face the music now… blimey, how do I explain this to the professors?

"Gran's going to kill me…" Neville mumbled with a dejected look. Harry shot his best mate a pitiful look and then made eye contact in Ron's direction. Ron's friends seemed to be discussing the matter just like everyone else, but Ron was the only one who wasn't joining in. Ron looked like he wanted to intervene and Harry quickly shot him a warning look, shaking his head fervently. I'm not getting you into trouble as well.

Ron Weasley's P.O.V:

The Slytherin Common Room - Sunday, December 20th, 1992 (8:40 p.m.)

Harry shook his head at him, and Ron clenched his teeth in response. He wanted to help, to solve this problem, but he just couldn't! His hands were tied, and any chance of aiding Harry and Neville would only cause Ron issues as well. I fucking knew it! I knew this plan was going to be a shambles! Those two and Hermione are finished now!

"I kind of feel bad for Malfoy," Millie admitted, but no one argued with her.

"Same," Tracey agreed, still reeling from shock. "Imagine if you're talking with your friends one minute and then the next, they get revealed to be someone else completely. In this case, it was Malfoy's archenemies, which makes it a hundred times worse!"

"I would lose my temper too," Daphne confessed.

"Well, I guess that makes Potter not their Heir of Slytherin," Theo chuckled mirthlessly.

"How come?" Pansy asked curiously.

"He broke several school rules and risked getting himself and Longbottom exposed to the Slytherins just to interrogate Malfoy because they had the hunch that he was the Heir of Slytherin," Theo illustrated. "If Potter was willing to go to such lengths, then he clearly isn't the Heir of Slytherin."

"Yes, but what if that was their plan all along?" Tracey argued with an enigmatic look. "What if they were trying to do all this just to get exposed to make people think they were being risky-"

"That's too much effort and stupidity, Tracey," Blaise interjected aloofly. "As much as I don't know those two, I don't think they would be that foolish to execute such a plan for their gain, right Ron?" Well, they're dead now, mate. Snape's going to slaughter them, and if not, Malfoy's dad will get to them first.

"Ron, are you alright?" Pansy asked when Ron didn't answer Blaise's question, and his friends turned to look in his direction.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine, Pansy," Ron responded quietly, ignoring the concerned looks of his friends. "Bloody hell, I wonder where Xavier is. I think I'll go find him-"

The entrance to the common room opened to reveal Gemma Farley, who had successfully brought Snape with her, and the room fell quiet. Snape strode towards the centre of the room, where Erik was still holding Harry and Neville and his unreadable, sallow face was replaced with a look of pure loathing.

"You never cease to amaze me with your latest ventures, Potter," Snape began icily, and the majority of Slytherin broke into delighted smirks; they all knew how Snape had the proclivity to deride Harry Potter and were highly entertained by it. "Imagine my surprise when the Slytherin Head Girl shows up to my office as I'm enjoying a simple glass of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey just to inform me that two Gryffindors, who I recall being miserable, insolent students in my class, are residing in the very common room that my Slytherins live in."

"Professor, I-"

"Save it, Mr. Potter," Snape cut him off harshly. "I will be taking you and Mr. Longbottom to Professor Dumbledore immediately. But before I do so, tell me, where are the real Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle at this given moment?"

"They're in a broom cupboard," Harry answered shamefully.

"Which floor?" Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Ground floor, near the Entrance Hall," Harry replied truthfully. Gemma Farley and Selene Selwyn instantly expedited out of the common room, unequivocally making their way to where Harry had revealed.

"Mr. Burke, you may release these two now," Snape ordered, and Erik obliged obediently. "You two, follow me. It's time to face the repercussions of your… brazen act."

Snape took a few steps before stopping in his place and looking between the Slytherin students. "Has anyone seen Mr. Malfoy?" Yeah, where is that twat?

"He left just before you came, sir," a fifth-year Slytherin apprised. "Said something about owling his father." Blimey, he was being serious this time!

Though Snape's countenance was unreadable, Ron could almost tell that there was a frustrated glint in the menacing man's coal-like eyes.

"Off to bed, all of you," Snape instructed, making the students disperse. "Tomorrow, you shall be back home for Christmas."

Snape then billowed away, his robes elegantly flying behind him, and he was followed by a hopeless Harry and Neville. The two Gryffindors shot a look back at Ron, and Ron didn't know how or what to respond with. Please don't let Harry and Neville get expelled… no, Dumbledore wouldn't allow it… would he?

"I'm going to assume that you had nothing to do with this?" Daphne's voice tore Ron out of his thoughts, and he gave them an innocent look.

"You assumed correctly," Ron replied, feigning truthiness in his tone. He missed Theo and Blaise exchanging knowing looks.

"Well, I guess it's safe to say that Potter and his friends are utterly fucked, eh?" A consensus of nods met Tracey's words, and Ron stayed quiet. His mind was firing with possible solutions to save his Gryffindor friends, but to his absolute exasperation, he didn't know how to help without involving himself either. Fuck, I need to find Xavier and tell him everything…

Albus Dumbledore's P.O.V:

Headmaster's Office - Sunday, December 20th, 1992 (9:15 p.m.)

"Is this true, Mr. Potter?" Albus asked calmly. He hadn't expected his office to be flooded with people around this time of the day – or rather, night. Once again, Albus found himself at a disbelief at Harry Potter and his friends' latest tale, one that he found highly intriguing, yet disapproved of.

"Yes, sir…" Harry replied sheepishly, while Neville and Hermione sniffled guiltily. Severus wore a triumphant look on his face, while Minerva looked astounded.

"And a Polyjuice potion was concocted for this plan to be achievable?" Albus pressed on, moving his gaze from Harry to Hermione.

"Yes, professor…" Hermione trailed off as she tried to wipe the flowing tears. "I… I pilfered the ingredients for the potion and borrowed a book from the library to learn the procedure for brewing the Polyjuice potion."

"I'd would like to presume that the firecracker that was thrown in my class was a distraction for one of you three to sneak into my own personal cupboards and pilfer more ingredients," Severus' tone turned deadly. "Am I correct?"

"Yes, professor…" Hermione sobbed while Neville shivered like a leaf in the wind under Snape's death glare.

"And the final part of the potion?" Albus continued, schooling his surprise. "How were you able to obtain a part of Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle?"

"We… f-filled two cupcakes with S-sleeping Draught," Neville stammered, looking positively affrighted. "We always see them leave the Great Hall at m-mealtimes to use the loo, so we used that as an opportunity to lead them to the c-cupcakes."

"They took it and fell asleep," Harry added blearily. "We hid them in a broom cupboard and stole their robes and shoes to use them when we would transform into them." Ingenious… unbelievably ingenious…

"This is outrageous!" Minerva exclaimed, making the three students flinch. "You cannot be serious. You agreed to this, Ms. Granger?"

"Yes, professor… it was my idea to this…" Hermione confessed, shocking them all again. What a surprising turn of events today…

"I must say I'm truly disappointed in the three of you, especially you Ms. Granger," Minerva scolded severely, and Hermione looked at her feet. "I expected better judgment from you."

"Oh, the blatant sexism is wonderful," spoke the snide voice of Phineas Nigellus Black. Minerva shot him a dark look.

"Phineas, have you spoken to Sirius as I requested?" Albus questioned, and Phineas shot him a funny look.

"I beg your pardon? I don't recall you asking me for such a favour," Phineas scoffed.

"Incompetent," Amrose Swott muttered.

"Can't even accomplish a simple task," Basil Fronsac scorned, earning murmurs of agreement from the other portraits.

"Enough," Albus put an end to the oncoming bickering. "Phineas, do as I say. Go." Phineas scoffed again but disappeared from his portrait, and Albus turned back to three Gryffindor students.

"I must say, I'm truly disappointed with your actions," Albus spoke sincerely, and the three students failed to make eye contact out of sheer shame. "Not only did you risk yourselves getting harmed, but you essentially drugged two other students and violated them, stealing their hairs to use for your potion. You also committed theft by swiping ingredients from Professor Snape's cupboards and violated privacy by entering a common room that you are prohibited from." Merlin, it all sounds quite atrocious when one lists it out like that…

But before Albus could come to a decision on which consequences were to be enforced, the fireplace roared to life and a tall, lean platinum-haired figure emerged, looking down the room's occupants with a permanent sneer.

"Lucius," Albus greeted, putting on a 'warm' smile. "How nice of you to join us. What pleasure do I-"

"I'm here to deliver a message, Albus," Lucius cut off impatiently. "Ah, I see the three culprits behind the heinous scheme to infiltrate the Slytherin Common Room are here. Good, it saves me time. I'm here to expel Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, and Ms. Granger from Hogwarts." Oh, dear.

"What?" Minerva stepped in, while the Gryffindors looked like they had been sentenced to the Dementor's kiss. "On what grounds?"

"I'm sure you are well aware of their actions, Minerva," Lucius continued coldly. "Their actions are nothing short of criminal-"

"Don't be so dramatic, Lucius," Albus piped up, trying to smooth out the tension. "These are, after all, just kids investigating one another. There is no reason to go so far to expel-"

"You forget your place, Albus," Lucius interjected again rudely. "I'm part of the Board of Governors who fund this school and help run it. I have the power to see to a student's expulsion or staff member's dismissal."

"I'm well aware of your position and its… perks, Lucius," Albus responded, and Lucius ignored the disdainful jeers he received from the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses. "However, I still suggest that we discuss the matter before making anything absolute."

"And?" Lucius smirked with contempt. "What did you have in mind?"

"I believe that a deduction of House points and a number of detentions shall suffice," Albus proposed, and Lucius's smirk widened.

"Don't be delusional, Albus, that is a mere slap on the wrist," Lucius emitted a small chuckle. "That is far too lenient, we both know it."

"And yet, I've been lenient with your son, Lucius," Albus pointed out, and Lucius lost his smirk. "There've been times that young Draco has crossed the line, but Severus here has always convinced me otherwise and thus, I've been tolerant."

"Four hundred house points," Lucius began, and Albus heard the children gasp in the midst of weeping and hyperventilating.

"We don't even half that!" Harry exclaimed, and Lucius took his glare to the boy's direction.

"I advise that you keep your mouth shut, Mr. Potter, or you will be praying that you caused your House to lose four hundred points rather than the other punishments I have in mind," Lucius warned darkly.

"With all due respect, Lucius, I do not appreciate you coming down to my school and threatening my students in front of me," Albus's eyes hardened and the two engaged in a staring contest as the temperature dropped. Minerva glared at Lucius whilst comforting a weeping Hermione Granger, and Severus stood a few feet away, engulfed by the shadows. Several Headmasters and Headmistresses tutted, muttered obscenities, and scoffed at Lucius.

"Your school?" Lucius broke the silence. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, Albus."

"Meaning?" Albus asked though he knew exactly what Lucius was hinting at.

"Let's just say, some of us governors believe that you've… lost your touch," Lucius enlightened. You're the only one who believes that, Lucius.

"Don't be so idiotic, Lucius," Minerva huffed indignantly. "Albus is completely capable."

"I must agree with her," Brutus Scrimgeour concurred from his portrait.

"Albus is one of the finest Headmasters to grace Hogwarts," Armando Dippet defended. "You governors would be fools to throw him out."

"I'd like to see you run as Headmaster, Malfoy," Giffard Abbott challenged.

"Whether I am a competent Headmaster is a talk for another day," Albus intervened before Lucius responded. "We are here to decide a suitable punishment for Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom and Ms. Granger."

"Deduct all House points that Gryffindor has, give them detentions for the rest of term once it resumes after Christmas, and remove Mr. Potter from the quidditch team," Lucius demanded. Albus stroked his beard in contemplation.

"The House points and detentions I understand, but Mr. Potter's association with the quidditch team?" Minerva started, shaking her head as Harry looked devastated. "That is not necessary, Lucius."

Lucius ignored Minerva and shook the official expulsion documents in his hands, making Albus sigh tiredly.

"We'll take the detentions, sir," Hermione wailed desperately. "Anything but the expulsions!"

"No is getting expelled tonight, Ms. Granger," Albus reassured gently, and he turned to Lucius. "I think your requirements can be met."

"Excellent," Lucius replied coldly, pocketing the expulsion notices. "Good evening to you, Albus." And he's back to his 'polite' façade…

"To you too, Lucius," Albus nodded curtly. Lucius glanced towards Severus and flooed away.

"So, I am no longer on the quidditch team?" Harry broke the silence, and Severus sneered at him.

"Be fortunate, boy," Severus snapped. "You got off lightly, believe me."

"Albus, you cannot take away Mr. Potter's-," Minerva persisted, but Albus raised a hand to silence her.

"I agreed to dislodge Mr. Potter from the Gryffindor quidditch team, however, I didn't say that he was forbidden from flying around on his broom whenever he pleases," Albus clarified. "Now, can you please take these children back to their dormitories? I'm sure they are exhausted and are in need of some sleep before they return to their homes tomorrow."

"Thank you, professor," Neville and Hermione chorused, shifting their downtrodden expressions into grateful ones. Harry didn't echo their words, but he did shoot Albus an appreciative look.

"There's no need, children," Albus responded tenderly. "Now, off to bed. Have a good Christmas."

Xavier Desmond's P.O.V:

The Boy's Dorm - Sunday, December 20th, 1992 (10:00 p.m.)

Xavier rinsed his toothbrush and returned it to the little cup holder along with the other boys' toothbrushes. He gripped the sides of the sink, inhaling sharply and then stared into the mirror. I knew this plan was going to be all for nothing… Why would Malfoy be the Heir of Slytherin in the first place? He can't even beat anyone in a duel from what I've seen… and now, the Golden Trio are in dangerous waters…

Much like Ron, Xavier had gotten the inclination to instantly help their Gryffindor friends, but there was nothing he could do without getting himself into trouble, something that the Golden Trio had made him, and Ron, promise not to do. Merlin knows what repercussions they're facing at this very moment…

Xavier left the bathroom after releasing another sigh and he found the other three boys readying themselves for sleep. Xavier snapped his trunk shut and began to prepare his blanket when Theo cleared his throat.

"So… any of you lot have an idea of what the Golden Trio are going face as punishment?" Theo asked causally. Xavier and Ron exchanged quick looks, while Blaise put his book down, making eye contact with Theo.

"Most likely a load of detentions," Blaise replied nonchalantly, going back to his book. "Potter is Dumbledore's golden boy, after all. And Granger and Longbottom are his two sidekicks, so there isn't a chance that those three will be shipped off back to their residences."

"Yeah, probably…" Theo trailed off, staring at the end of his four-poster bed before directing his eyes towards Xavier and Ron. "What do you say? I mean, you both know just about every rule the Golden Trio infringed, don't you?"

Xavier stopped preparing his blanket, while Ron slowly turned his head towards Theo. Blaise made an annoyed sound and rolled his eyes.

"What are you talking about-"

"Shut up," Blaise silenced Ron. "It's so obvious that you two were associated with this failed scheme of theirs. If this wasn't the case, you two would have reacted much differently to the prospect. So, don't bother denying your involvement, alright?"

Xavier and Ron kept their silence, bracing themselves for an oncoming lecture, but Theo and Blaise echoed the silence.

"You're lucky the girls didn't put two and two together," Theo muttered, making himself comfortable in his bed. "They wouldn't let you forget it any time soon, that's quite certain."

"To be fair to them, this was a profound breach," Blaise pointed out. "Potter and Longbottom broke into the Slytherin Common Room, dissimulated in Crabbe and Goyle's bodies and features. A lot of Slytherins are outraged by this act of temerity. If they ever found out that you two played a part in this, you would never hear the end of it."

"We know they're your mates, but seriously, you two are going to re-evaluate this friendship of yours, at least until the Heir is caught," Theo continued earnestly. "Because this is just leaping over the line. You permitted them to do this, even though I'm pretty sure that neither of you believes that Malfoy is the Heir of Slytherin. You could have simply told them that, not assist them."

"You're going to have to choose where your loyalty lies," Blaise concluded, placing the book away. "Here, with us, the girls, and your House, or with them."

Xavier and Ron processed Theo and Blaise's sincere, heartfelt words, but made no response. Theo and Blaise didn't seem to expect anything back as they rolled over into their favoured sleeping positions.

For a moment, Xavier and Ron made eye contact and without another word, followed suit with the other two boys and drifted off to sleep, putting the words at the back of their minds.

Author's Notes: Rest in Peace, Robbie Coltrane. You will be sorely missed, but never forgotten.

"It's Not Hogwarts Without You, Hagrid…"