As the days went by, the weather at Hogwarts began to improve; the lack of attacks and the arrival of spring had given everyone hope that everything would soon be back to normal.
Harry overheard Professor Sprout saying that the mandrakes were becoming unpredictable and full of little secrets, which meant that they would soon leave childhood behind.
"When the acnes are gone, they'll be ready for repotting," the Herbology teacher told Filch, "and after that, we'll cut them up and cook them. And before you know it, you'll have your Madame Nor-r-ra back."
Filch seemed thrilled by this, or as happy as the grumpy janitor can appear to be.
Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think that he alone had made the attacks stop, Hermione seemed very close to believing it but seemed to avoid saying it out loud so as not to start another fight with Ron, or anyone else who wasn't a fan of the professor.
That morning, Harry and his friends saw the notice on the communal message board: the dueling club had reopened and the second-year students would have their session with Professor Lockhart at eight o'clock that evening.
Harry was briefly excited about learning new things about dueling, but having to learn them with Lockhart made him rein in his expectations.
On time, they met several second-year students from all the houses in the Great Hall. Harry's excitement waned a little when the DADA teacher appeared, practically parading in his dark plum robes, with far more pomp than he deserved.
Right behind him was Mr. Black, in his burgundy robes and a black cloak. He looked as neutral as ever as Lockhart began to speak.
"Let me introduce you to my assistant, Professor Black."
That son of a bitch. A wrinkle appeared for a moment on Black's forehead as he stared briefly at the other professor before disappearing and his neutral expression returning.
Something in the potions professor's gaze made Harry think that Black didn't like his colleague very much.
"He told me he knows a thing or two about dueling and agreed to help me give a brief demonstration before we started," Lockhart's smile was big and blinding, and Harry found it very fake too, "but don't worry, you still have your potions, teacher, after I beat him."
Regulus narrowly avoided growling. His mother's voice reminded him that he was a man, not an animal.
They stood facing each other, greeting each other with a curtsy. Then they both raised their wands and wielded them like swords.
"As you can see, we wield our wands in the usual combat position," Lockhart said to the silent group of students, "on the count of three we will cast the first spell. None of us intend to kill, of course."
Just because it's still a crime. Regulus thought staring at him.
"One...two...three..."
They pointed their wands at each other.
"Expelliarmus" a red flash came out of Black's wand and hit Lockhart, knocking him into the air.
He flew to the back of the stage where he was standing, crashing into the wall and sliding down until he was on the ground like a starfish.
The Slytherins applauded Black, as did a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Hermione danced on her tiptoes trying to see better and Ron bent over holding his stomach while laughing.
Harry tried not to follow his friend in his laughing fit, but his eyes watered and he laughed silently.
"Do you think he's all right?"
"Who cares?" Ron and Harry answered together.
Black just looked at the crowd, a wave of his hand asking everyone to calm down. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Lockhart stood up slowly, dizzy. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.
Harry noticed how the two teachers' hair differed in length and color. Black's hair, also wavy, was perfectly arranged around his face, a great contrast now.
"Well done" Lockhart staggered across the stage back to his starting position "That was a Disarming Charm, you see I lost my wand. Ah, thank you very much, Miss. Brown".
He bent down to retrieve the wand that Lavender held out.
"Yes, an excellent demonstration, Professor Black. But if you don't mind me saying, it was very obvious that you were going to do it. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been very easy."
"Then why don't you demonstrate, after all, that's what we're here for, isn't it?" Black challenged.
I'll take you down as many times as I can.
Lockhart stammered briefly as he looked around.
"Maybe another time," he turned to the students, "I'll join you now and split you into pairs if Prof. Black wants to help me..."
So they gathered the students into pairs, Neville and Justin Finch-Fletchely.
"Let's try out a variety of boys," Black said to Ron and Harry, "Weasley with Finnegan, Granger and Bulstrode. Potter and..."
"Malfoy" Lockhart replied.
Draco approached with all the arrogance, smiling - much like Lockhart's smile - to make Harry uncomfortable.
This shouldn't even be surprising. Harry thought, looking at the blond with a grimace.
"Facing your partners," Lockhart said, "prepare your wands. On the count of three. One...two..."
"Are you just going to leave them without teaching them any defense spells?" Black interrupted him by crossing his arms "I'm sure part of the premise of the club is to learn to defend yourself as much as to attack."
"Prof. Black is right," Lockhart said almost awkwardly, "I was testing you."
You little shit. Black thought wearing his best plastic smile.
"Let's just start with disarming," the blond continued, "the spell is Expelliarmus."
He demonstrated the movement they should make with the wand, the students imitated him.
"Come on, into position. One...two...three."
Draco attacked on "two"; his spell had not been taught, and it hit Harry like a frying pan on the head. The brunette staggered, but everything seemed in order. As it didn't start as planned, Harry decided not to follow the rule, he pointed at Draco and shouted.
"Rictusempra."
The silver light hit Draco in the stomach and he doubled over, breathing hard.
Harry noticed at a glance that no one had obeyed what Lockhart had said. Draco fell to his knees and Harry hit him with the Tickle spell, not allowing the blond to move with laughter.
For a moment, he stepped back, trying to be sporty, but Draco quickly used it against him, and the blond choked:
"Tarantallegra."
Harry's legs began to shake uncontrollably in a kind of march.
"Stop it! Stop!" Lockhart shouted over everyone's heads, but Black took the lead.
"Finite Incantatem."
Harry's legs stopped moving on their own, Draco stopped laughing and they raised their heads.
Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding a pale-as-paper Seamus, the redhead apologizing for what his broken wand could have done. On the other side, Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still fighting, but their wands had been forgotten and Millicent had trapped Hermione in an armlock.
"Enough," Black's voice resounded throughout the hall.
The girls let go and everyone stepped back a little. Black lowered his wand, the tip of which rested against his neck, as he looked around at all the confusion.
"Serpensortia" Harry heard Draco's voice.
He turned in time to see a snake materialize, fall heavily to the ground between them, and rise ready to strike. The students screamed and moved away, making way for the snake.
"Don't move, Potter," Black said from where he was helping a girl with a bleeding nose.
"Allow me," Lockhart shouted, brandishing his wand.
He cast a spell on the snake, which instead of disappearing was thrown a few meters into the air and fell back to the ground with a thud. Everyone backed away as the snake hissed angrily, slithered straight towards Justin, and rose again in an attack position. The sample fangs are ready to strike.
Harry didn't know why or how when he noticed his legs had carried him forward.
"Leave him alone," he said to the snake, just as he had done to the one at the zoo last year. But it didn't work, the snake looked at him and then turned its attention back to Justin.
Miraculously, the snake stopped and became a green garden hose on the ground. Harry looked around, everyone was shocked, even the teachers looked at him as if he were a strange being.
His heart squeezed as he noticed the expression very similar to that of his uncles when Petunia or Vernon called him a freak.
Even Justin, whom Harry had expected to be more relieved, intrigued, or grateful, stared at him with an expression of dread before running off.
Black vanished with a flick of his wand, looking at Harry with a shrewd, calculating gaze that made the boy uncomfortable. Harry was vaguely aware of the disturbing whispers around him. Then something grabbed the sleeve of his robes and pulled.
"Come on," Ron said nearby, "move, let's go."
Ron led him out of the hall and Hermione ran to follow. People made way for them to pass, still whispering among themselves. Harry felt his stomach turn, he felt sick as he climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower.
No one explained anything, he just let himself be pulled into the now-empty common room and pushed by Ron into an armchair by the fireplace.
"You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?"
"What am I?" Harry asked.
"Parselmouth," Ron repeated, "you talk to snakes."
"I know. I mean, this is the second time I've done it," he explained hurriedly, "the first was at the zoo on Dudley's birthday, a boa constrictor that said it was from Brazil, a long story... that was before I knew I was a wizard."
"A boa constrictor said it was from Brazil?" Hermione looked incredulous.
"So what? I bet a lot of people can talk to snakes."
"No," Ron said worriedly, "it's an extremely unusual gift. Harry, that's not cool."
"What's not cool? What's wrong with everyone? I was just trying to help, telling that snake to stay away from Justin..."
"Oh, that's what you said."
"What do you mean Mione, you were there, you heard me."
"We heard you talking funny" Ron replied "Snake language. You could have said anything and we wouldn't have understood. It gave me the creeps."
Harry stared at them dumbfounded. He hadn't even noticed that the words coming out of his mouth didn't sound like they normally would. It seemed to him that he had told the snake to leave Justin alone. But it didn't matter because what he had done was try to help Justin.
"What's wrong with stopping a huge snake from ripping Justin's head off?"
"The problem, Harry, is that the ability to talk to snakes was the gift that made Salazar Slytherin famous."
Harry recoiled, he didn't know that. But it made sense, right, the symbol of the Slytherin house was a snake, of course, its founder had some connection with these animals.
He ducked his head, that would only make it worse, the whole Slytherin heir thing and he'd unwittingly put himself in the middle of it all. Just trying to help someone.
"Now the whole school will think I'm the heir."
"Probably. They'll think you're the great-great-great-grandson or something."
"But I'm not," he said with half-hearted conviction, "right?"
"It's going to be hard to prove. He lived a thousand years ago, maybe you're his descendant," Hermione said.
Panic seized Harry at the possibility.
"Let's ask Professor Black," Ron said, receiving shocked looks from his friends. "He said himself that he learned all this family tree crap, he'll know if you go."
"I don't want to talk to him," Harry whispered.
"It'll be all right Harry, we're here for you."
"Whatever happens," Ron agreed with a nod.
[...]
Sleeping for the next few days was very difficult, as was walking around the school. Everyone, including Peeves who called him the Heir of Slytherin, turned away from him with cruel comments, especially MacMillian and some Hufflepuff.
All Harry wanted to do was curl up in his bed and ignore the world outside, but he couldn't just do that.
He couldn't be a Slytherin descendant either, it wouldn't make sense for him to have ended up in Gryffindor if he was. Even if the Sorting Hat had said he'd do well in Slytherin too.
The Dursleys had always forbidden him to ask about any of his relatives, even before he knew he was a wizard. And although his uncles know about magic, he doesn't think they know that much about his ancestry.
Ron was right, he could ask Mr. Black, but he didn't want to get close to the man. Although he also knew his parents and didn't seem to have any problem answering his questions.
But Black is also related to the Malfoys and if Draco's father has anything to do with what's been going on, they've certainly told the professor about the plans.
He was taking a walk, trying to clear his head. He tried to talk to Justin, but his friends barred him from the library, not that the boy was there, but he didn't want to be near MacMillian or the others.
He'd barely noticed where he was going when he slammed into something big and solid, knocking him to the ground.
Harry looked up in annoyance, only to see the half-giant standing there.
"Ah, hello Hagrid."
The man's face was half hidden under his woolly cap, a layer of residual snow over his worn brown cloak.
"What's up, Harry?"
Harry rose from the ground, smiling and nodding at the man, then noticed the dead rooster hanging from his hand.
"I need Dumbledore's permission to cast a spell around the hen house. A fox or a bogeyman is killing the roosters".
"Is that all right?"
"Yeah, just a bit tired, you know a lot of homework," the boy smiled, "well, I've got to go."
"Visit me anytime," Hagrid said with a nod "Ron, Hermione and you are always welcome for tea."
Harry smiled and agreed again, waving goodbye. He climbed the stairs, trying to shake off what Ernie had said, about how Justin had been afraid something would happen to him ever since he told Harry about his family being Muggles. As if Harry cared about that, after all, his best friend was muggle-born, and he was raised by muggles.
He walked down the particularly dark corridor, the torches on the walls having been extinguished by a strong gust of icy wind coming through the loose panes.
He was halfway down the corridor when he noticed something lying on the floor. His stomach dropped when he realized what it was. Justin Finch-Fletchley was on the floor, stiff and cold, a shocked expression on his petrified face, empty eyes turned to the ceiling. Next to him was Nick Nearly Headless, black instead of pearly white and transparent, half a meter off the ground and motionless horizontally, his non-physical body billowing smoke. His expression was the same as Justin's.
Harry backed away quickly, turning to call for help when. He saw a row of spiders fleeing through the gap in the window glass, his heart hammering in his chest.
Then Peeves appeared, mocking as always, in a frightening kind of joy at what had happened just a few meters away. Then the poltergeist's expression changed and he started shouting:
"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NEITHER MORTAL NOR GHOST IS SAFE! SAVE YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK""
The doors opened and the empty corridor was quickly filled with frightened students and worried teachers.
"Caught at the scene of the crime" shouted Ernie, his face livid.
"That's enough MacMillian," said a teacher.
Peeves bobbed up and down in the air, a mischievous grin on his face, enjoying what he loved most, chaos. Humming as the teachers checked on Justin and Nick.
Ah, Potter, rotten, look what you've done,
Killing students is not polite...
"That's enough, Peeves," McGonagall hissed as the poltergeist flew backward and stuck its tongue out at Harry.
"Professor, I swear I won't..."
"Harry this way," Black said, "let's go somewhere quiet."