"A wise decision," Albus Dumbledore said, his words masking his true thoughts as he addressed the Potions professor.
"Your intent to curb Harry's recklessness with punishment isn't wrong," Dumbledore continued, though he believed the opposite: to rein in Harry, burdening him with Quidditch responsibilities would channel his curiosity better. Snape's move to strip Harry of his Chaser role was a misstep.
Yet, Dumbledore praised Snape, laced with sarcasm. Snape, sharp enough to catch it, grimaced, shamed by the headmaster's tone. "But, Headmaster—"
"Failing to punish Potter or act decisively won't quell student unrest," Snape pressed. "If we appear to favor one student, it's educationally unsound."
"You, of all people, say that?" Dumbledore's voice carried clear disbelief.
Snape shrank, recalling Dumbledore's words from last term: his excellence as a teacher was his pride. Losing Dumbledore's trust was unthinkable. "They're calling Potter the culprit," Snape said defensively. "Shouldn't we show we've 'addressed' it?"
His words held truth. Dumbledore had heard similar reports from McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout: younger students, especially, grew warier of Harry.
"I'll bear the criticism," Dumbledore said lightly. "A leader's job isn't to chase popularity but to take responsibility when things go wrong. Let the complaints fall on me."
"With respect, Headmaster," Snape countered, "we're the ones guiding students."
"I'm deeply grateful for that," Dumbledore said. "Gilderoy still raves about the love potion you crafted for his Defense lessons."
At Lockhart's name, Snape's eyes blazed with fury. "That man mocks Hogwarts' teaching! I spent precious ingredients and time brewing for NEWT-level lessons, and he scattered it among students—immature children!"
"Madam Pomfrey reported it," Dumbledore said, suppressing irritation. "I've warned him sternly. Any further harm, and I won't stay silent."
Snape's anger was justified, and Dumbledore listened, though wearily. "Why hire such a fool?" Snape demanded.
"As I've said, Severus, I don't value Gilderoy as a teacher," Dumbledore replied. "But I couldn't lose you, an irreplaceable one."
A hidden motive flickered in Dumbledore's words, almost spelled out. Snape's pride seemed restored, bolstered by the headmaster's trust. To Lockhart's credit, he awarded points to any student, regardless of house or blood status, unlike a certain Potions professor who withheld points from Muggle-borns or non-Slytherins.
"You have your duties," Dumbledore said. "If it's too much, rely on Filius. He's wise, aware of Hogwarts' unprecedented crisis, and respects your role in protecting it last year."
"Filius values me?" Snape scoffed. "You jest, Headmaster."
Snape rarely earned praise, partly due to his conduct, but his years of teaching and last year's heroics cemented his place. Dumbledore offered him a path—to walk in the light, a steep challenge for Snape. Whether he'd take it was his choice.
After the meeting, Dumbledore penned letters to wizarding dignitaries—not just the Hogwarts Board but legal experts and welfare officials. As headmaster, he was also a man answering a plea, tirelessly working to aid someone.
"You two made it to the Halloween feast after the Deathday Party, huh?" Harry said. "Glad you did."
"Forget us," Ron replied. "Worry about yourself, Harry."
Dumbledore's leniency didn't clear Harry's name. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw peers eyed him warily, fear in their glances.
"Zabini's got it rough too," Hermione said. "Slytherin's reputation is taking a hit."
"It's the culprit's fault," Farkas spat. "We're getting dragged through the mud."
For ordinary Slytherins like Farkas, indifferent to other houses, the Heir of Slytherin's actions were a blight. Blameless, they suffered Slytherin's tarnished name.
A silver lining emerged: Luna Lovegood joined the Magical Inquiry Club. Unprejudiced against Slytherin, she was welcomed by Farkas and Azrael. Hermione kept her distance due to Luna's eccentricity, Ron found her odd, and Zabini couldn't stand her fashion sense.
"If her looks were hopeless, fine," Zabini grumbled, "but ruining decent material with that tacky style?"
"That lion hat's hideous!" he added. "At least wear a plain headband!"
Harry, sensing Zabini's critique would backfire, intervened. "Sorry, Luna. For spell practice, maybe skip the hat—it's risky."
"Oh, okay," Luna said. "Should I change it to a headband, like Zabi-nii said?"
"Who's your brother?!" Zabini snapped.
Luna's spell silenced him. No mere quirky Ravenclaw, she Transfigured her lion hat into a blue headband with startling skill for a first-year. Harry marveled at Ravenclaw's prodigious talent. Slowly, the group warmed to her.
At the Duelling Club, the seven Inquiry Club members practiced spells while discussing recent events.
"My dad's company selling Nimbuses was a mistake," Azrael sighed. "It's why Slytherin's hated now."
"Jealousy from poor kids," Zabini said. "We won the match, so who cares?"
Slytherin's Quidditch opener against Hufflepuff went smoothly, despite the school's tense atmosphere. Everyone craved a distraction—Slytherin's defeat. Harry and his teammates faced jeers from Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws. Commentator Lee Jordan, believing anything went against Slytherin, called Draco "the Seeker who bought his spot" (earning McGonagall's wrath) and Harry "the Chaser who sold his soul."
Harry, no pureblood fanatic, initially drew tepid cheers even from Slytherin. But seeing Zabini, Ron and Hermione (under an Invisibility Cloak), and Luna in Slytherin's stands, he focused. Following the strategy, Harry drew the Quaffle, missing his first shot from nerves but sinking nine after. Hufflepuff's defense was disorganized; only Cedric posed a threat. Dodging Flint's near-fouls, outsmarting Pucey, and pressuring Harry, Cedric scored three goals flawlessly, but his teammates faltered. Draco caught the Snitch before Cedric's fourth, securing Slytherin's victory.
The cost? Slytherin's reputation plummeted. The Nimbus 2001s, leagues ahead of Hufflepuff's worn QuaffleSweep 5s, made it a bicycle-versus-tricycle mismatch.
"You're right, Zabini," Harry said, lifting Azrael's spirits. "The Nimbuses are great PR. Blame the Heir for Slytherin's bad rep."
He shifted topics. "Draco told me a monster appeared at Hogwarts fifty years ago."
Emboldened by victory and Pansy's cheek kiss, Draco had shared Chamber secrets. "A student died back then."
"Fifty years ago?" Hermione mused. "Not likely the same culprit."
"Maybe a relative's causing trouble now?" Farkas suggested.
"A grandchild, maybe," Ron added.
Luna glanced at Harry, as if noticing something, but before he could ask, a mature voice interrupted.
"Harry, you're here too?" McGillis Karo, a Slytherin prefect, approached with Isabella Selwyn and Ricardo Marthinus. "Enjoying the duels?"
"I'm practicing Protego with Banarge," Harry said. "You dueling too, Karo-senpai?"
"Just dabbling," Karo said, glancing at Ron and Hermione with a forced smile. "I'm not skilled, so I'll spar with Banarge. He's one of the best."
"No flattery, McGillis," Banarge said humbly. "Skill's just tactics and context."
"Shall we start?" Banarge asked.
"I'd rather watch the juniors," Karo said. "Slytherin's got four promising newcomers."
Feeling awkward, Harry's group performed. Karo praised Harry's Expelliarmus and Hermione's bird-conjuring spell. Harry noticed Azrael holding back. He's avoiding attention.
Karo, per Azrael, was a pureblood extremist, and Marthinus had tormented him. Harry stepped up to shield Azrael, showing off his spells. Karo demonstrated, his Protego flawlessly blocking Ron and Zabini's serious Slug-Vomiting and Incendio spells.
"You'll master it soon," Karo said warmly. "I was worse than you last year when Garfield brought me here. Competing with Banarge and Galiot honed my skills. Rivalry's valuable."
"I promised to duel Ron," Harry said.
"Excellent," Karo said. "As a Slytherin prefect, I wish you victory. Your Quidditch performance was stellar—I worried you'd resent being Chaser, but those shots were brilliant."
"Thanks," Harry said. "The broom helped a lot."
Karo's warmth contrasted his pureblood preaching in the common room. But then he pivoted. "If you've no grudges, why not invite Draco here? He's destined to carry pureblood pride. He'd be a good friend."
The air froze. Ron stepped in front of Hermione, wand raised. Marthinus paled, clutching his head. Selwyn scrambled to silence Karo, but it was too late. Sensible students like Angelina Johnson and Cedric Diggory shot Karo cold looks and left.
This is the worst, Harry thought. They didn't mistake him for a pureblood zealot, but Karo's ideology soured the club. Worse, Karo seemed oblivious.
"McGillis," Banarge said, his usually calm face twitching with rage. Harry looked away.
"This isn't the place for politics," Banarge said. "Save it for your usual spot."
"My apologies," Karo said, clueless, heading toward Marthinus. Hermione shouted after him.
"How can you believe in purebloodism when people are being petrified?!"
"It's just how things are," Karo said, stroking his chin. "Join Banarge and me later. I want to debate and confirm things. More voices make better discussions."
"Don't, Hermione," Harry urged. "It's probably pointless."
Harry, the Slytherin quartet, Ron, and Banarge tried to stop her, but Luna watched eagerly. Before Banarge could intervene, Hermione replied, "I'm going!"
Thus, the Inquiry Club followed Karo and Banarge to a mysterious room after the session.
"I thought it was that room," Karo said, "but no. Welcome to the Room of Requirement."
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