Chapter 6: OcclumencySummary:In which classes and drama continue apace. Hazel confronts her Head of House in a battle of wills (she loses, sadly), and learns about nasty slurs even Draco won't use. Oh, and she starts hearing voices.
Notes:Beta read by Paracosmist8
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextHazel and Hermione spent the first study group of the year catching everyone else up on what they had forgotten over the summer, which seemed to be almost everything in Ron's and Neville's cases. Hazel's temper, flimsy in spite of practicing Occlumency every night, nearly broke.
"Honestly, Ron, how d'you expect to stand up to your older brothers like this? You'll never get out of their shadow at this rate!"
Ron's face went red from shame and anger. "Come on Hazel, it's hard," he muttered. "And this was all summer work anyway, no one-"
"Of course it's hard, you dunderhead!" Hazel shot back, cutting him off. "It's school, it's our future! Nothing worth having is ever easy! And maybe if you'd done that summer work you wouldn't be here right now, hm?"
Her glare swept the room, taking in all the students. When did there get to be so many? "Listen, we're here to study, got that? Not gossip, or giggle over that ponce Lockhart, or stare at my forehead! If you can't take this seriously, there's the d-door!" Her voice cracked at the last word and she coughed to try and clear it; thankfully, no one thought it was funny, since they were going through it themselves.
"Much as I agree with you, Potter, do keep it down," Madam Pince called, looking slightly less sour than normal. "This is a library, after all." Hazel flushed and settled down again, though no one seemed inclined to leave.
The next day was Potions, where Snape introduced them to the Fire Protection Potion. "If properly brewed, it will taste like freezing water as you swallow it, and for the duration, you will be unaffected by flames or high heat," he explained, waving his wand to put the instructions up on the board. Hazel, Neville and Hermione sat together as usual, and across the room, Draco, Ron and Seamus Finnigan also had a table.
Afterward, Hazel waited behind to speak to Snape about Occlumency, but they were interrupted by Colin Creevey. "Professor Snape!" he yelped, dashing into the dungeon classroom and catching himself on a desk. "Professor Snape! You said right before lunch!"
"Yes, Mr Creevey," he said patiently, indicating that Hazel should wait with a brief gesture. "Photo developing solution." From a drawer of his desk he withdrew a small flask and a rolled sheaf of parchment. "The process is quite simple, but even so, you will not try any brewing without the supervision of myself or Professor McGonagall." He handed the items to the boy with a glare, that Hazel could tell was about half ferocity. "Do I make myself clear, Mr Creevey?"
"Y-Yes sir, Professor Snape, sir!" Colin replied earnestly, holding the parchment and flask to his chest like they were precious artifacts. "No brewing by myself! Thank you, sir!" He sketched a hasty bow and dashed out of the classroom again, talking to himself about how awesome his pictures would be.
"Rather magnanimous of you, sir," Hazel remarked with a smirk, pushing off from the desk she'd been waiting by.
"Indeed. The boy has potential as a potioneer, however, or I wouldn't bother." He looked down at her, and his face was its usual glower. "So. You have done as I asked over the summer?"
"Yes sir." Nerves fluttered in her guts, and she shifted from foot to foot under his scrutiny. "I have the nightmares under control, though my emotions are all over the place, and I'm not sure if I have the closed mind part down…"
"And you are here to address that, are you not?" He waved his wand and made a clearing in the center of the room. "This will not take long, Miss Potter. Stand before me, clear your mind, get ready to defend yourself…"
This was it. Hazel was going to face Legilimency for the first time. She stepped to the middle of the room, cleared her mind as best she could as she went through her Occlumency steps. "Okay, sir…"
Snape raised his wand. "Three, two, one… Legilimens!"She gasped at the very peculiar sensation of something oily and foreign entering her mind, and in her sudden haste to try and expel the presence her defenses collapsed, and she was treated to a rapid-fire collage of unpleasant childhood memories; being bullied, being yelled at, not being allowed to eat…
The presence retreated after a few moments, and she opened her eyes with a gasp, to find she had broken out into a sweat. "What… that… was that you… sir…?" she panted, having lost her breath. Dimly she realized she may not have noticed if she hadn't had her guard up, but there was no time to make sense of this realization.
"Indeed it was." Snape lowered his wand and looked down at her. "You have made decent progress for having studied on your own for such a short time, trying to keep your thoughts empty is a fine way to begin. And you could tell when I entered your mind, too?"
"Yes sir… weird feeling, greasy… rather not p-put up with it…"
"Naturally." He nodded in agreement. "Consider it motivation to keep learning, if you wish. I have not received further reports of your dormmates being awoken by your nightmares, so I shall consider the initial goal of self-control a success."
"Thank you, sir." She had her breath back by now. "I think I will keep trying to learn more and expand my mind's ability. Keeping a closed mind can only help out in the future, can't it, sir?"
"Very good." Her stomach growled, and she clutched it with a grimace. "Be off with you then, Miss Potter, lunch will not eat itself." She merely nodded, gathered her things and went to eat.
Tuesday that next week, they all learned what Farley had been talking about regarding the special pills; every bottle started glowing green and making a shrill whistling noise until they popped the tops off and each swallowed one, and they didn't stop until the last of them was done. "They really push this stuff, don't they?" Millicent grumbled, stuffing a pile of socks atop the bottle before slamming the drawer shut.
"Well, you heard Gemma, Hogwarts isn't a daycare," Hazel countered, glad she hadn't started her nightly routine before the bottles went off. She had discovered a taste for garlic and curry in herself lately, not to mention rare steak, and the other girls hated to be around her if she didn't brush her teeth quite thoroughly before bed.
The time came for Quidditch tryouts; Hazel, Draco and Millicent were veritable shoo-ins compared to the older students who showed up, and even Blaise Zabini flew well enough to make Chaser. Flint looked pleased, especially since Malfoy gaining the team meant they all got the new brooms for certain. "We'll keep some of you on as reserves, don't worry," he told the students who didn't quite make the cut. "And I think we'll keep doing what we did last year too, if Snape agrees."
"What, training up firsties?" Hazel asked, shouldering her official new broom. "That's a g-good idea, we definitely had a leg up on the others." She cleared her throat and scowled, quite ready for her voice to settle down already.
Flint nodded. "Plus, having a team with as many fresh players as possible means we can keep a cohesive unit longer, instead of losing players every year. 'Course, the other Houses are gonna do the same; I heard your mate Weasley made the Gryffindor team."
"Oh? Good for him, I guess." She wasn't overly worried; Ron wasn't cut out to be a Seeker, so it was unlikely they'd have to face each other directly. Although if he got too competitive about it…
Well, whatever. She had enough to worry about, with classes piling up the homework, dodging Lockhart constantly, and trying to keep herself reined in during their study group. She had a weird knack for it, she was learning; spotting when someone else was doing something wrong and correcting them, in a way that didn't come off as condescending like when Hermione tried.
No, that wasn't quite fair, she was improving slightly, but everyone agreed that Hazel was in charge. And it was hard not to let it get to her head! It got harder when Ginny and Luna started showing up, which of course brought Colin Creevey around too who couldn't shut up about how amazing Hogwarts was.
The rare moment when she got to relax, over the weekends or after classes, she would usually spend flying around the school on her broom, doing all kinds of stunts and dives just for the adrenaline rush, just to pretend she was leaving her problems behind for a few moments. The smooth, trembling handle of the sleek broom between her legs never failed to both soothe and rile her up in a way she couldn't quite pin down, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. And if she wasn't flying she was hanging out with her friends, or listening to Luna patter on about the various outlandish things she believed in.
At least once a week she tried to make time to visit Hagrid, usually on Sundays. The first time the four of them went down there, Hagrid looked a bit put off when he answered the door, but he lightened up when he saw who it was. "Thought yeh was Lockhart again," he said gruffly, holding the door open for them, "bin wonderin when yeh'd show up."
"Sorry about that, they're laying it on thick already," Hazel said apologetically. Fang barked and jumped all over Draco, then went to Hazel and the others in turn before settling his huge head on Hazel's knee and whining. "Who's a good boy?" she crooned, scratching behind his ears.
"What did Professor Lockhart want, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, going slightly pink like she always did whenever Lockhart was mentioned.
"Las' time he was tryna' tell me 'ow ter git kelpies outta the well," the big gamekeeper muttered sourly, clearing the table for tea. "Actin' like I dunno 'ow a'ready, bangin' on 'bout some banshee he banished. Got it all wrong too, if one word o' it were true I'll eat me kettle!"
"That's not fair, Hagrid," Hermione insisted, her voice higher than usual and cracking all over the place. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he wasn't the b-best man for the-"
"He were the on'y man fer the job," Hagrid explained patiently, putting a plate full of treacle fudge down. Hazel took one and regretted it immediately; her mouth was practically sealed shut on the overly sweet treat. "Not many's very keen ter teach Defense anymo', startin' to say it's cursed 'r summat. An' who c'n blame 'em?" He shook his shaggy head and put tea and cups down. "'Fore Quirrell last year we 'ad yer bro Bill Weasley teachin' part-time, 'n fore him we 'ad Professor Rakepick, but she was a bad egg too…"
"Bill mentioned her, she was a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts just like he was," Ron said, after washing down a mouthful of fudge. "No one really knows what went wrong with her, or they aren't talking at least…"
"Eh, I dunno much meself. An' I ain't jus' sayin' that neither, so don' go buggin' me none!" Hagrid warned them. "Ruddy brilliant witch too, even Dumbledore respected 'er. But I guess it just weren't enou'."
"We can look her up later, if we wanted to," Hazel said, finally getting her own jaw unstuck. "If we have time anyway…"
"Lots of half-bloods at school this year, even a few Muggle-borns in Slytherin," Draco remarked. "I've had to tell quite a few older students off for calling them mudbloods, and not just the Slytherins either."
Ron looked outraged. "Are you shitting us? The hell are they on about, using that kind of language?"
"That's rich," Hermione cut in, trying not to laugh. "What's a mudblood anyway? It sounds rude."
"Because it is rude," Draco explained. "It's a really nasty term for Muggle-borns. Father likes to throw it around a lot, but I've learned that blood doesn't matter." He reached across to pat her shoulder. "You're Muggle-born and you do better than everyone else. Longbottom could hardly stand a cauldron the right way up before we started helping him, and his blood's as pure as mine or Ron's."
"There'd be no more students at Hogwarts if we stopped accepting half-bloods and Muggle-borns," said Ron. "Us pure-bloods haven't got much choice if we want to keep things going, you know?"
"Ar, there ain't a spell yet Hazel 'n Hermione can't do," Hagrid said fondly, and both girls went pink. "Good on yeh fer makin' a stand, Ma- Draco, but don't go bitin' off more 'n you c'n chew, yeah? Don' need yer pa marchin' up ter school demandin' why's his son been cursed 'r nothin'."
Draco just scoffed at that. "He wasn't exactly in a hurry about it last year," he muttered, his voice breaking slightly as he looked down at the floor. Fang whined slightly and nuzzled at the boy, and he patted the great fuzzy head gratefully. Hazel pulled her wand out and twirled it between her fingers, watching the flame-like whirls flicker in the actual firelight of Hagrid's hearth.
"Ar, that's a pretty wand yeh got there, Hazel. Ollivander's?" Hagrid asked.
"Yeah." She held it up for them to see. "Fourteen inches, elm and phoenix feather. It's done right by me so far."
"...that's not elm," Draco said unexpectedly. "It's too light for elm, Father's wand is made of elm and it's red, practically black." He peered more closely at it. "I've never seen a wand like it, though, it's almost like it's on fire…"
Hazel hesitated, but then she sighed and gave in. Just get it over with. "Okay, fine, it's made of elder, okay?" From the way their eyes widened, she knew she'd been right to keep it to herself. "Mr Ollivander said elder wands only choose powerful and unusual witches with great destinies ahead of them, whatever that means."
"It's like The Tale of the Three Brothers, " Ron murmured thoughtfully. "You know, how the oldest brother demanded a wand stronger than any other, and Death broke off a branch from an elder tree and made him a wand from it? Elder wands are supposed to be bad luck too, wand of elder, never prosper and all that…"
"Ah, s' just a fairy tale," Hagrid said dismissively. "I c'n see why Hazel'd wanna keep it to herself she's got an elder wand though. Mebbe we oughta keep it between us, yeah?"
"That's not all." Hazel was still playing with her wand, remembering what she'd felt last year in that dusty wand shop. "The phoenix feather core… Mr Ollivander said one other wand had a core from that same phoenix." She looked up then, a hard glint in her eye. "Voldemort's wand has that core. His wand and mine are connected."
"...what does that even mean?" Hermione demanded, sounding confused and not liking it one bit.
"I have no idea, and I don't really care either." She put the wand away and finished her tea. "I think we should g-get back, thanks for having us, Hagrid."
"Ahh, 'fore yeh go, got summat ter show yeh," and the big man heaved himself up and went for the back door of his shack. "C'mon out 'ere, all a' yeh, yeh'll like this…"
Remembering the dragon and Fluffy, they shared a look, but went out anyway. It turned out to be twelve pumpkins, the biggest pumpkins any of them had ever seen. "Bloody hell," Ron swore, "they're like boulders, they are…"
"Yeh, oughta be ready in time fer Halloween," Hagrid said happily, looking quite pleased with himself.
"What've you been feeding them?" Hazel asked.
"Well…" Hagrid looked around to make sure they were alone. "Th' usual, yeh know, dragon dung 'n all 'at… An' maybe I'm givin' 'em a lil' help here 'n there…" She noticed his gaze flick to the flowery pink umbrella he carried around sometimes, and not for the first time wondered what was really going on with that umbrella.
She knew he'd been expelled at some point, in his third year she thought, and his wand snapped, but he refused to say anything about what led up to his expulsion, feigning deafness until the subject went away. It was a mystery better worth looking into than flighty Defense teachers, in her opinion.
"What kind of help, Engorgement Charms?" Hermione said, looking like she couldn't decide whether to be amused or disappointed. "You're doing great either way."
Hagrid chuckled. "S' what lil Ginny said yesterday, when she came sniffin' aroun'," he said, giving Ron a nod. "Said she were jus' lookin' aroun', but I think she was hopin' ter see someone else down 'ere." The obvious wink he tipped to Hazel made her blush and look away again. "Ahh, jus' teasin, jus' teasin'... though Hazel, what's this I heard abou' you signin' photos fer firsties?"
"What?!" she spat, looking up at him aghast. "Who said-?! Ugh, that fucking Lockhart!"
"Oi, watch yer mouth," Hagrid growled, though he was shaking with repressed laughter. "I bet Ginny wouldn' say no ter a signed-"
"Shut up!" she shouted, covering her ears and running away from the vegetable patch. She could still hear the others roaring with laughter, though. "Gits…"
Dinner that evening was unpleasant, with Draco shooting amused glances her way, though true to his word he didn't tell the others what the joke was. Not the true story anyway. "Oh, I just saw Hazel trip over, that's all," he said lightly, shrugging it off when someone asked what was so funny.
"She fell for one of those false staircases last year too," Millicent said with a smirk. "Any idea how long you were trapped there before I showed up, Hazel?"
"Bit t-too long," she muttered back, glad they weren't laughing at what really happened. "I guess I'm just clumsy when I'm not on a broom, huh?" She managed to laugh along with them, knowing that was the best way to defuse teasing.
After dinner, though, on the way back to their dorm, she could swear she heard a voice. "Come… come to me… Rip and tear… I must feed…"
"What?" she replied, whirling about. "Who said that??"
"Who said what?" Millicent said, looking around curiously. "I didn't hear anything."
"That voice, you didn't hear a voice just now?"
"No, just the pipes, Hazel, rustling like they always do." She clapped a hand on Hazel's shoulder. "Come on, you've had a long day, let's get back to the dorms already."
Before she could reply, someone was shouting her name. "Hazel! Hazel!" came Colin Creevey's voice, as he pushed his way through a knot of firsties. He had his camera as usual, on a strap around his neck, and in his hands were some photos. "Here! I finished them today!"
Somewhat bemused, she took the images; the one on top was the first picture he'd snuck up on her to take, and she giggled at the sight of herself scowling from beneath her bangs and flipping her middle finger upward. The second was the group shot with herself, Draco and Lockhart; Lockhart was trying to pose heroically with Hazel pinned to his side, while she fought him off and tried to flee beyond the edge of the photo and Draco tried to help pry her loose.
"These are pretty funny, Colin," she said, handing them back. "But I don't think they're flattering enough to be worth signing, okay? Maybe next time…" She turned and walked off, ignoring the snickering of her friends and leaving a disappointed Creevey behind.
Her thoughts turned back to the hissing voice she'd heard, of course. But though she listened as carefully as she could, the voice didn't make itself heard again. She sighed and kept going, eager to finish her nightly routine and fall into bed.
Notes:As always, I welcome honest commentary and opinions. You've been a lovely audience of course, keep up the awesome~
Chapter 7: Losing ControlSummary:In which Hazel's simmering emotions boil over, onto the most undeserving person imaginable. Her punishment will be strict indeed.
Notes:Beta read by Paracosmist8
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextOctober slouched along in time, bringing the usual damp chill with it. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape were kept busy brewing and handing out Pepperup potions, and it got to the point where Snape assigned Hazel's study group the extracurricular work of learning to brew up the relatively simple potion.
"The Pepperup potion is easy enough for second-years such as yourselves, though I'd still mind Longbottom closely," he told them as he explained the recipe. "What you do with this is your own business, I simply do not have the time to attend to every cold and flu."
"I don't know if any of us have brewed this potion yet, would it be a good idea to bring our first batch to you or Madam Pomfrey to make sure?" she asked, to which Snape merely shrugged and waved her off.
After some thinking, Hazel realized they could brew the potion in larger cauldrons, with the ingredients costing about eleven sickles per batch; with twenty doses per patch they could charge two sickles per dose and get out ahead. But she wouldn't have enough time, none of them in the study group would.
"Maybe go see if Fred and George wanna take over? They're mercenary enough to make a thing out of it," Ron suggested. It was a good idea, so she did so at the next chance.
Which turned out to be dinner that evening. "Fred, George, can I have a word?" she asked, tapping one of them on the shoulder as everyone was traipsing into the great hall. "Over here…"
"Look, bro, it's our favorite snake," one of them said, both of them following her without hesitation.
"Whatever could she want, o brother mine?" the other replied with a smirk.
"Here's the ingredients and instructions for Pepperup potion," Hazel replied, biting back a laugh at their antics. "I did the math, you can brew it up with eleven sickles' worth of ingredients, and there's enough for 20 doses. Snape gave this to me, said he didn't want to deal with sniffling students anymore."
"Cheers, Potter," they said in unison, studying the parchment with identical toothy grins. "What's the catch, though?"
"I want half the profits of course," she replied promptly. "You wouldn't be here without me, after all."
"What, and leave us holding the bag?" Fred countered. "60/40 since we'd be doing all the work."
Hazel pretended to consider it, then laughed and shook hands with both of them.
The school was going to be quite steamy indeed for a while, she reflected as she sat down to another healthy dinner.
The spicy potions proved especially popular as Quidditch season progressed, with players and fans in every House needing it for practices. Hazel and the other snakes did their House proud in the first game of the year, the new brooms allowing them to flatten Ravenclaw again; Draco and Millicent were especially effective, considering they were only second-years, and even Blaise put up a fine show.
Hazel decided not to go straight for the Snitch, instead she wanted to mess with the other team's Seeker until Slytherin had a healthy stock of points built up. The Ravenclaw seeker was a pretty girl named Cho Chang, who seemed happy enough to mess with Hazel right back. She didn't take it seriously until Flint yelled at her to get the Snitch already; their team was forty points down! Hazel swore at herself and Cho and then sped off, and thankfully the other players overcame that lead by a few scores before she saw the Snitch and managed to catch it, right from under Chang's nose no less.
"Good game, Potter," Chang said as the team shook hands afterward, and Hazel left with a floaty feeling in her guts. The same kind of feeling she usually got around Luna, she realized with a start.
"She's pretty, isn't she?" came a familiar sing-song voice, and Hazel jumped slightly. "The billywugs leave her alone, for some reason, I really should learn her secrets." There was something reassuring about Luna's serene smile, and Hazel smiled back, reaching out and entwining their fingers together. "Oh, this is nice too…"
"You're nice," she blurted without thinking, going red as the students around them laughed. She bumped into Ron's sister Ginny almost immediately, who squeaked and dropped an old leather-bound book. "What's this?" and she bent over to pick it up. "Some kind of diary?"
"U-Uh…" Ginny looked nervous, almost scared, and couldn't take her eyes off the book. Looking more closely, Hazel thought she looked sick too.
"Feeling okay there, Ginny?" Hazel frowned and gave her the book back. "Go get some Pepperup potion, you'll feel better." Ginny muttered something and snatched the diary before running off, her face as red as her hair.
"Poor Ginevra's been out of sorts for a while now," Luna said, frowning slightly at the retreating redhead. "I think the wrackspurts are really getting to her."
"Damn those wrackspurts!" Hazel blurted out, and Luna smiled again. Privately she thought maybe Ginny was just stressed by school, but she doubted Luna would smile like that if she said as much.
Halloween came closer every day, and even though Hazel was determined to move on from her old grief, she still felt out of sorts despite her Occlumency. She was determined to soldier on regardless, but her mood became so sour that nobody wanted to be around her anymore; even the study group suffered, as she snapped at people for the smallest mistakes and they left in a huff.
It came to a head at Potions, when Neville made a crusty mess of their potion. "God dammit, Longbottom!" Hazel exploded, standing up so fast her seat got knocked backward. "How many fucking t-tablespoons did you put in there?!"
"Language, Potter!" Snape snapped, pulling her away from Neville (who looked incredibly shocked and on the verge of tears) and dismissing the ruined potion with a wave of his wand. "It is not your place to discipline students! Thirty points from Slytherin, and detention next Sunday!" She couldn't help but gape up at the Potions Master, wondering where this betrayal came from. "In the corner, Potter. Now. "
Feeling even more betrayed and angry she seized her bag and stomped across the classroom, trying to ignore the mutters from behind her. Snape continued on as if nothing had happened, though he gave them all homework on the Swelling Solution in the end, leaving Hazel to stew in her own fumes. Finally, at the end of class, he returned to his desk as the rest of them were filing out. "Come here, Potter," he called out, his voice a low, silky murmur she instinctively cringed back from.
"Y-Yes, sir?" she mumbled, approaching the desk and not daring to look up, either at it or her Head of House.
"Do you wish to defend your actions in my classroom earlier?" he went on, as papers rustled and the sound of a quill could be heard.
For a second she didn't dare say anything, until the indignity of it all burst over her. "You saw it, sir!" she exclaimed, looking up at last. "That d-dolt Longbottom almost blew up his cauldron!"
"No, Miss Potter, at the most the potion you two were working on would have turned to crust," he countered drolly. "There was only a risk of explosion when youlost your temper. I warned you before about language in this school, did I not? I thought Occlumency was helping with this?"
There was no defending that, she realized as shame burned its way through her even as she felt anger again at whoever was snitching her out. "It was, but… I was angry…" she muttered, looking away again, feeling thoroughly deflated. "Sir, Halloween is coming up…"
"You are not the only one who feels grief on that day, Miss Potter, but do you see anyone else falling apart in public?" Snape replied, and she thought his voice wasn't as sharp. "I fully understand how you feel around this time, but it is no excuse whatsoever for treating your fellow students the way you did. Especially not Longbottom, whom you've gone out of your way to assist up till now."
Now she felt tears coming, and desperately fought to keep them in. "I'm s-sorry, sir," she said, sniffling and wiping her eyes, focusing on her Occlumency barriers with all her might. Don't cry, don't cry… Slowly she brought herself under control, and sniffled hard to clear her nose.
"I'm not the one you should apologize to, Miss Potter." He finished writing and handed her the parchment. "Get yourself under control, then proceed to the library and give that to Madam Pince. It is a list of books you will find useful."
She looked down at the sheet; it was a short list, she noticed, and they were all to do with Occlumency. "More books on Occlumency, sir?"
"Indeed. This episode has made it clear to me that I must take a more direct hand in your progress." He pointed at the list. "Retrieve those books, read them carefully, and we shall begin private classes every Monday and Thursday, at 7pm. I shall have Miss Farley on hand as well, to escort you back to the Slytherin dormitories."
"Occlumency isn't easy…" she mumbled, sniffling again.
"No, it is not. Nothing worth having in life ever is, however." His gaze softened slightly. "You may consider studying with Mr Malfoy as well. Occlumency can serve as a shield against other threats, such as the Imperius Curse or Veritaserum."
The reminder of Draco's past trauma made her wince. "I understand, sir. If self control was easy, everyone would be doing it, right?" She knew Veritaserum was a powerful truth potion, and didn't see a need to ask about it.
"Indeed. I've heard nothing about any further night terrors in your dormitory, but be vigilant nonetheless." There was something like sympathy in his gaze now, and that made her feel even worse. "Every night before bed, clear your mind and put your emotions aside, just as you've been doing. You must have noticed your sleep improving."
"Yes sir, I have." She looked down at the list, clutched in her hand. "If Draco does well enough, could he come to our private lessons as well?"
"Perhaps." He stood up and gestured to the door. "Off with you now, I must prepare for the next class. I suggest finding Mr Longbottom and apologizing thoroughly, he did not deserve to be spoken to that way."
"Y-Yes sir," she replied, backing away and hurrying out the door. She found Draco, Blaise and Millicent, all looking concerned. "What are you guys doing here?"
"Waiting for you, obviously," Blaise drawled. "We were worried Snape would have your tongue after that last outburst of yours."
"No, he didn't- I'm fine. Did you see where Neville went?" But she didn't see the other boy until lunch, and by then the whole school seemingly knew what had happened. She stammered her way through a sincere apology while looking down at her shoe, and Neville stammered his way through accepting it while looking at his shoe, and then they grinned tentatively at each other, and that was that as far as they were concerned. But if the sour looks the other lions sent her way was any sign, it wasn't quite over yet.
At least her fellow snakes had her back still, she reflected as she went to the Slytherin table and was greeted with subdued approval. She still resolved to apologize to everyone she had cussed out though, whether she'd been caught by a teacher or not. She sighed as she ate, wondering if every October was going to be a misery for her.
The rest of the day crawled by, Hazel alternating between depressed and furious, and after the last class caught up with Hermione. "Hey, I… I'm gonna skip tonight's study group," she said sheepishly, unable to look the other girl in the eye. "Probably no one's gonna be there anyway, and after Potions today I…"
"It's fine, Hazel, don't worry about it," Hermione said with a smile, pulling her into a quick hug. "I'll give them your apologies, of course, and I'll try to summarize what we talked about so you can keep up, okay?"
"Thanks." She couldn't bear to see the girl beaming at her that way, so she turned and left, making tracks to the library. "Um, Madam Pince? Professor Snape told me to check these books out?"
"Advanced Occlumency?" the older woman muttered, glaring at the parchment. "You're far too young for that, Potter, but this is his handwriting alright…" Still muttering she disappeared into the stacks, soon reappearing with the books in question. "They're not exactly in high demand, Potter, but do bring them back before the end of the school year, hm?"
"Yes ma'am," she said promptly, accepting the stack of books and placing them in her bag.
She hurried back to the common room, eager to get through the night's homework before delving into the new books. The other students seemed happy to see her, no doubt still approving of her dressing down Neville, but she ignored them and went to an empty table to spread her things out and get to work.
It was nearly curfew, and all she had left was an essay on some mad medieval witch. With a growl she chucked it aside and pulled out the new Occlumency books; it wasn't due until next week, after all. But then someone sat down next to her. "Never thought I'd see you throw an assignment aside," came Blaise's sarcastic voice. "Not even from old Binns…"
"Oh shush, I got all my other work done," she shot back as Draco and Millicent showed up too. "Snape gave me a note for these other books, see?" and she held up one of the Occlumency texts. "Supposedly I'll learn better self control or something."
"More Occlumency, huh?" Draco reached out for it and let it fall open on his lap. "I didn't know Hogwarts had any books about it around. But you're already studying it, right? For your nightmares or whatever?"
"I was, but now I'm concerned about all that closing my mind shit, I don't just wanna get my emotions and nightmares under control. He said you might benefit from it as well, Draco, so I'll give you the other books I had on the basics." He looked thoughtful at that, then shrugged. She turned and gave Millicent a glance. "Why didn't you say I was waking you lot up at night, last year?"
Millicent shrugged too. "It was mostly just me, since we sleep next to each other. You haven't had a screaming nightmare since then, this year it's mostly been whimpering and stuff." Then she got a shrewd look in her eye. "You haven't just been diddling yourself this whole time, have you?"
"Wh- no!" Her face went red again, and the others chuckled. "I haven't- I mean- I don't even know how!" Now they were really laughing, so she grabbed a random book and hid her face behind it. "G-Go away before I hex you all! I mean it!"
It was exactly what Snape had been talking about, she realized as the others walked off, still laughing among themselves. She couldn't let this kind of nonsense get the better of her, not when an elder wand had chosen her. Even if her magic core was sealed away… That thought made her growl, as usual, and she spent a few minutes getting herself under control before grabbing the first book of the lot and cracking it open.
Draco and Snape had been right, she realized quickly; these new books were definitely not for second-year students.
The wording was archaic and circular, and the later chapters went over her head no matter how long she repeated the words in her head, but she caught the gist of the earlier chapters eventually: Clear the mind, divide one's thoughts and feelings, put barriers between them. Later on, apparently, if she kept going that far, she would have to discern between herself and an intruder, and either force them out or lie convincingly enough to fool them. To lie with her own memories…
She closed the book and thought about that. It wouldn't be enough to simply present her thoughts for consideration, no. To fool someone so thoroughly, she'd have to alter her own memories, create new ones or even erase them entirely. The Memory Charm could accomplish that, she was sure, but that spell had its risks, and she wasn't yet confident in casting it on herself to erase specific memories.
"You're getting ahead of yourself, Hazel Jade Potter," she muttered, closing the book and thunking herself in the forehead with it. "One thing at a time." Some of that basic stuff sounded like meditation to her Muggle-raised mind, honestly, and that couldn't be too hard. Could it?
She gathered up all her stuff, went to her dorm and got ready for bed, though she lingered in the shower when she remembered Millicent's teasing. But her own shame got in the way and she kept going, even when the drying vent made her gasp and shiver.
Once in bed she went over the exercises from the book, breathing slowly and evenly, trying to let her mind drain away to stillness. She thought she felt it working, but fell asleep before she knew for sure.
Notes:Things are getting serious now, slowly but surely, but we shall ever persevere. As always, I welcome your honest thoughts and opinions!
Chapter 8: SamhainSummary:Halloween comes with its usual miseries, but with her fellow snakes, Hazel finds the strength to stand tall and stare her seasonal depression in the eye.
Notes:Beta read by Paracosmist8
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextIn the morning she wasn't sure if it had worked or not, since she had definitely had dreams of a sort. "So, did I… keep you up?" she innocently asked Millicent as they got dressed.
"Not the way you're thinking, no," was the smirking reply, which she'd have to settle for, at least for now. She forced herself to be mindful of those around her, to go and personally apologize to everyone in their study group she had snapped at and hope they would accept it. The majority of them did, it seemed, finding it just as awkward as she did.
"Why look who it is, bro," came a familiar voice, as first one and then another Weasley twin bracketed her in on either side on the way to lunch.
"It's our favorite little snake yet again!" the accompanying voice sniggered, and there were the two grinning faces.
"Alright, boys?" she asked, torn between irritation and amusement.
"Fine as wine, Potter," one of them said, sliding a little clinking pouch into her hand with remarkable subtlety for the outgoing boys.
"Fine as wine and right as rain, that's us!" the other one chimed in, beaming at everyone around them to mask the searching gaze making sure no one noticed.
"If I'm your favorite snake, then why don't you call me Hazel already?" she replied smoothly, pocketing the pouch. "Potter this, Potter that, someone might get the wrong idea about us~"
"In that case I'm Gred!"
"And I'm Forge!"
That brought an honest laugh out of her, and she shook their hands happily. Later on she opened the pouch, saw a nice pile of sickles, and smirked happily, thinking about getting something for Ron. He had apparently broken his wand in one of Lockhart's classes, having been called on for some dramatic reenactment or other.
"I already wrote to Mum about it, and I convinced McGonagall to write as well so she'd believe me," Ron said that afternoon at study group, trying to patch the thing with spellotape. "She adores Lockhart, you know, I'm surprised Dad isn't jealous."
"Not when you kids are home, anyway," Hazel cut in. Her heart wasn't in it, though. Not only was Halloween coming up, but she had that detention the very next day too. She couldn't possibly imagine how it could get any worse.
At least, until Lockhart called on her to stay behind after his class the next day. "Well well! Got caught out, didn't we, young Hazel?" he began, grinning that stupefying grin. "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time, though, as I always say!"
"What are you talking about?" she nearly snarled, readjusting the strap of her bag. "Sir."
"Why, that I've come to your rescue, young lady!" he went on grandly. "Professor Snape would have had you scrubbing trophies or some such rot, but not I! Oh no, starting Sunday at seven you are going to help me with my fan mail!" and he made a supremely conceited laugh.
Hazel could only gape up at him in horror, thinking how much she'd rather scrub trophies with Snape. "Uh, sir, I… um… I- I have horrible handwriting!"
"Not to worry, young lady, not to worry!" Lockhart blathered on, throwing a hand out to try and catch her. "I'll show you exactly how it's to be done! Why, I hardly ever let anyone help me out with such an important task, the last witch I had helping me-!"
She managed to twist away before he could snag her, though. After she'd warned him before, too! "Yes sir, I'm sure it was lovely, but I'm going to be late, so sorry, got to go, bye-!" and she was out the door before it could get any worse, running down the hall until that classroom was well out of sight.
She looked around, saw a girls' bathroom and ran inside. "THAT FUCKING PRAT!" she screamed as she slammed the door behind her. "Where the FUCK does he get off taking over MY DETENTION!"
"Ooh, someone's in trouble~" a watery voice sighed from behind her. She whirled around, wand in hand, and saw the ghost of a girl about her age. "Such a potty mouth too! Bet that's what did you in~!"
"And who're you supposed to be?" Hazel growled, slowly lowering her wand. For the first time she looked around, noticing this bathroom had a very abandoned feel to it; everything was covered in dust, the floor looked recently flooded…
The ghost looked flattered. "Oh, I'm Myrtle, Myrtle Warren, but everyone calls me-"
"Moaning Myrtle," Hazel finished, horrified with herself. It really could get worse! "You're the reason they had this loo closed off!"
"What! Oh perfect, no wonder no one's been to visit me!" Myrtle griped, crossing her arms and looking mutinous. "That pompous prick Nick's been gallivanting all over the place about his Deathday on Saturday, inviting everyone over, but not me! When we're in the same building!" and somehow she made the toilet splash everywhere.
"Wh- Sorry, what's a Deathday?" Hazel asked in spite of herself.
"It's the day we died, stupid girl," Myrtle sniffed, glaring daggers. "Nick died on Halloween, so of course he gets to have everyone come around! But nobody shows up for me! Nobody wants to be around Hogwarts anyway in June!"
"That's a horrible thing to celebrate!" Hazel blurted. "If it was me I'd try and forget it ever happened!"
"That's what I try and say, but only that old cunt Binns ever agrees with me," Myrtle replied, still sniffling. "And half the time I think he doesn't even know what he's saying! He definitely doesn't get my name right!"
"He never gets anyone's names right," Hazel said, calming down. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Myrtle, I'll be going now, then…" She backed away toward the door, and Myrtle sulked back into one of the toilets. "Wow, that was a close one…"
Halloween dawned clear and cold, and despite her best efforts at Occlumency, Hazel still couldn't get her despair under control. It wasn't just that her parents were murdered today, although that was the easy excuse. It was that Voldemort tried to kill her too, and failed, and nearly died himself.
And no one knew why! No one knew why the most powerful Dark Wizard in British history had failed to kill a mere one-year-old infant girl, especially when he'd just murdered two full-grown adults in the prime of their lives and powers.
She sulked down to breakfast, ate a lot of sausage and bacon and eggs and milk and didn't talk to anybody, and afterward went straight back to her dorm, where she put on her Muggle workout clothes and worked herself silly for a few hours. Of course she made herself sick and had to throw all her breakfast back up, and she took a savage sort of glee in the tumult of her guts; it matched her inner feelings, for once.
She pushed herself until lunch time, when her empty stomach finally got too loud for her to ignore, then pounced on her bed and covered her face with a pillow so she could scream until she had no more breath left.
After that, feeling sore and tired and hungry but marginally less emotional, she showered and dressed in her witch things and went out to the common room. Her friends were there, and she had a feeling they had been waiting for her. "Alright, Potter?" said Tracey Davis, looking up from some small object in her hands.
"Yes. No. Kind of." Words piled up in her throat and she choked slightly on them. "Don't wanna celebrate today…"
"No one's asking you to, Hazel, really," Draco said carefully. "Look, we're not gonna go to the feast either, we'll just have the house-elves send food up here instead, okay?"
"Snape's gonna notice if the entire second-year class is missing," Hazel insisted. "You don't need to coddle me, okay?"
"Not just second-years," Gemma Farley said, and for the first time Hazel saw that most of the Slytherins were down here too, and all the chairs were in a half-circle about the blazing hearth. And they all had little objects, which she finally saw were photographs; some new, some old, some in picture frames. "Perhaps you didn't notice last year, Potter, but most of us don't agree with Halloween . We think we should honor the old ways on this day, instead."
"You mean… Samhain? The old pagan things?" Hazel replied, and nearly everyone nodded, even the half-bloods. She realized there were probably just the Muggle-borns getting ready for the feast upstairs. "And… what does it involve?"
"Traditionally, we light bonfires and make sacrifices, invoke the names of the dead to honor and remember them," Draco explained quietly. "There's more to it, of course, but these days it's frowned upon to even acknowledge this much. Snape knows, and I'm pretty sure Dumbledore does too, but as long as we don't proselytize, they won't say anything."
"I see." Hazel suspected this was one of those traditional pure-blood things, but honoring the dead sounded much more respectful than some gaudy feast. "Well, I think it might be nice to reach out to my parents, at least." She thought for a moment, and remembered the picture book Hagrid made for her. "Count me in."
"Sit down, then." Gemma patted the empty seat next to her. "We're just meditating on our honored dead right now. Later we'll do some of the rituals, but it's too early for that stuff yet."
"Okay. I've got a picture of my parents, I'll be right back." She went to her dorm and got out the scrapbook Hagrid had given her, pulling out a particular little portrait of her mother and father, embracing each other and smiling solemnly. As she did so another picture fell out, one she hadn't seen before. "Hm? Oh, it's their wedding."
Lily and James were in the center, and as she looked on they waved up at her and began cutting the cake. Around her were the guests. A tall, handsome man with wild black hair stood behind James, along with a smaller fellow with somewhat shabby dress robes and an even smaller man who grinned nervously; something about his rat-like demeanor set her ill at ease, and she looked away quickly. And over on her mother's side was… Snape?
It certainly was. Severus Snape, in dress robes of pure black, was one of two men on Lily's side of the picture. There were two other people there as well, a man and a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Snape was not smiling, and he kept shooting harsh glares at the black-haired man behind James when her parents weren't looking. The black-haired man glared back with equal animosity.
"Sorry, I have to go," she whispered, slipping the loose picture back into the scrapbook and taking the first one she wanted. "I'll be back soon…" Picture in hand she returned to the common room and joined her fellow Slytherins, sitting next to Gemma and Millicent and holding their hands in hers. Some of them stared down at their picture, murmuring wordlessly, others simply sat with their eyes closed, but everyone was quiet and contemplative. It was remarkably peaceful, nothing but the crackling fire and the murmurs of the others, and for the first time since she could remember, she was at peace on a Halloween.
Two thoughts occurred at once to ruin her introspection. The first was the realization that this was the meditative state of mind she'd been trying to achieve through Occlumency this whole time; the second, spurred by her stomach growling loudly, was a stark reminder that she was still hungry and that she'd left her dorm to get lunch. "Go on and eat, Potter," Gemma murmured, and Hazel was grateful that no one thought to laugh out loud. She nodded gratefully, stood up and hurried from the common room, eager to satiate her guts again.
As she had suspected, there weren't many Slytherins at the table that day, and she was able to eat in peace. At least until Colin Creevey came creeping over, eyes shining and camera at the ready. "Alright, Hazel?" he gasped, nervous at being so close to the lions' rivals. "Um, if it's not too much trouble, can I…?"
"Ugh." This kid wasn't gonna give up, was he? "After lunch, okay? I'll meet you by the doors." He nearly shrieked with glee and ran off, and she shook her head and went back to eating. It took her a few minutes to be surprised at her own good mood; she'd been so used to being nasty around Halloween, after all. "Hogwarts really is amazing," she said to herself with a smirk. Once she was done she went and retrieved her broom, avoided Lockhart and met Creevey near the doors leading outside.
"Ooh! Ooh! That's a racing broom!" he cried, reaching for his camera. "But I haven't got a video recorder, Hazel!"
"You won't need one." She went outside, into the shadow of the Quidditch pitch. "Alright, Colin, here's the deal. I reckon we've got about an hour before we have to head back inside and get ready for the feast, so I'm gonna fly as fast as I can and if you can catch any good shots of me, I'll sign them. Got it?"
"Holy shit!" He was beside himself with hero worship. "You got it, Hazel! I'll take the best pictures ever, you'll see!"
"But I'll warn you right now," and she waggled a finger under his nose, "if any of them are compromising in any way, or make me look bad, I'll burn them all and you'll never get another chance to take my photo. Do I make myself clear?"
"Uh, y-yes ma'am, perfectly clear." Slightly subdued he got his camera ready, and she mounted her broom and kicked off. Truthfully she didn't care, she had her shorts on underneath like always, and she didn't plan on making it easy for him to catch a clear photo of her anyway.
"Hey! No fair, fly closer to the ground!" he yelled, and she grinned sheepishly, but then dived straight towards him. He shrieked and ducked, and she pulled out with a laugh. "Not like that!"
At one point she flew as high as she dared, and did another swan dive off her broom, arcing away and then curving downward, broom racing faithfully at her side. And like before she called it to her hand with a thought, and leveled out just before crashing and burning. "I hope you caught that, at least!" she crowed, feeling dizzy with her own self-satisfaction. "Okay, time's up. Let's head back."
"I've never seen ANYONE fly like that before!" the little firstie gushed as they jogged back up to the castle. "Are you gonna go pro after you graduate, Hazel?! You seriously should go pro!!"
"I've thought about it," she admitted with a shrug. Professional Quidditch was a good way to become world famous, not to mention rich as King Midas, but it didn't quite have the influence she thought she would need later on. Then again, maybe she could do it for a few years, get her brand out there, really rake the Galleons in and then move onto bigger things? "I've definitely thought about it…" Mind awhirl with plans and schemes, she barely paid attention to Colin's prattling, and had to remind him they had separate dorms when it seemed like he was going to follow her down to the dungeons.
"Guys, the whole castle smells like feast, there'd better be some sent here or I might have to call it a loss this year," she announced as she entered the dungeons once more. Some of them laughed quietly, and she took her seat back.
"I told you we'll have food sent here," Draco reminded her. "Also I saw you outside earlier, showing off on your broom. Who was with you, that little lion prat with the camera?"
"Colin, yeah." She was looking down at her parents' picture again. "I think once Lockhart's out of the way he could be useful, though. I'm gonna need a dedicated cameraman, after all." She did her best imitation of Lockhart's gaudy grin, and the others laughed again.
"I thought you hated being famous?" Millicent asked, giving her hand a squeeze.
"Not being famous by itself, but what I'm famous for," Hazel replied, squeezing back. "Eleven years ago tonight, my parents were murdered by Voldemort." She ignored the winces and gasps, and went on. "And somehow I wasn't. Whatever he did, bounced right back on him, and all I got was this scar." She flipped her bangs aside with a flick of her head, exposing the grim mark. "It got longer last year too, after my… encounter with Quirrell."
"Huh, I guess it did." Draco peered at the scar. "Maybe it'll do that every time you encounter You-Know-Who?"
"I fucking hope not," she muttered, feeling the usual foul mood start to encroach on her peace. "Ugh, I need to stop that, it's gonna get me in more trouble…" She shook her head, bangs falling back into place. Occlumency, Occlumency… "But like I keep saying, I was a baby when that happened! I had no control over it or anything, I don't even know how or why! And Dumbledore wasn't very helpful either, he just said it was because my parents died for me."
"Sacrificial magic is some of the strongest stuff there is," Gemma said. "Whatever it was, you're lucky to be alive, and we're lucky to have you in Slytherin with us." There were various nods and murmurs of agreement, and Hazel felt her heart ache. But in a good way.
"Well, I'm gonna be famous by myself one day," she insisted firmly. "For what I've done, not for what my parents did! Taking You-Know-Who on ought to be a good first step." She had no problem saying the name, in fact she agreed with Dumbledore who insisted that fearing a name was silly, but it was also silly watching everyone fall all over themselves in shock when it was spoken aloud.
In time the prefects arranged the tables into the center, and on cue a modest feast appeared. Everyone tore into it with gusto, especially Hazel; there wasn't any curry, but she made do with roast beef and tomato soup, and of course a whole jug of milk. She picked out cherry treacle and fudge and strawberry pie for dessert, and was grateful the house-elves thought of them up here. Come to think of it, where were the kitchens, anyway?
After the food went away, everyone gathered around the fire again. One of the older prefects brought out a book and chanted some lines in a language she didn't recognize. It was lilting and musical, though, and the notes tugged at something inside her.
When the chant was over, the same prefect waved his wand, and a large black rat appeared in mid air; he seized it and Stunned it, and put it down in front of the fire, waving his wand again and making a heavy, ornate dagger appear. It was a Slytherin weapon through and through, glinting silver, embossed with snakes; the snakes even had tiny emeralds in their eyes. "Who wants to finish up for tonight?" he asked, looking at the other students.
"You mean the rat?" Hazel asked, feeling a little apprehensive. Being a Slytherin wasn't all sunshine and roses, it seemed.
"That's right. Kill it cleanly and throw it in the fire, with a word for Father Time and Mother Earth." He held the dagger towards her, and after a second she stood up and went over, taking it in hand. "We're supposed to do more than this, of course, but with things the way they are… Well, our ancestors understand, so it's fine."
"Right." She got a grip on the weapon, which really was meant for larger hands, and knelt down by the stunned rat. "Father Time, Mother Earth, accept this lowly offering," she murmured, taking aim and stabbing the rat through the back of its head, severing the spine and piercing the skull at once. It jerked briefly, then fell limp, and she took it by the tail and threw it into the flames.
"Good work, Potter. Most new participants go for the heart instead." He clapped her on the shoulder and said some more words in that language, then they all stood and bowed to the flames. Hazel did the same, noting the rat was being consumed much faster than usual. It didn't take long for the remains to be consumed entirely, and the older prefect waved his wand to banish the smell. "There. Now the firsties and others won't notice anything."
"I bet it's harder to do all this when Halloween is on a school day," Hazel remarked as everyone drifted apart, and the prefects spread the tables out again.
"It is, so we honor our ancestors privately on that night, and the next weekend we get together for the proper rituals," he explained as he wiped the knife down. After a moment he held it out to her again. "Here. You did good with the rat, I'm sure you'll put it to use elsewhere."
"Thanks, I'm honored." Touched by the gesture, she accepted the weapon and put it inside her robes. It was good knowing her House would back her up, even in private, and she smiled as she walked to her dorm to put the picture away and get her assignments out. Even the detention with Lockhart tomorrow could be withstood as long as she wasn't alone.
Notes:I was a little more nervous about this chapter in particular, because even though Slytherins as pagans isn't really a new idea, it's an idea that I was new to. So if anyone who reads this happens to know more about British-Irish paganism (particularly through a Wizarding World lens) than the surface pop culture stuff, please let me know how I did!
Also, fair warning, things will get a bit darker going forward. Mind the tags and warnings at the top.
Chapter 9: Detention with LockhartSummary:Hazel has detention with Professor Lockhart, and sees first hand the truth of the rumors. Thankfully they're interrupted, but...
Take heed that there is a brief scene in the middle that may imply sexual harassment of a minor, and though I went out of my way to keep things from being too explicit, readers should nonetheless be warned.
Notes:Beta read by Paracosmist8, with additional advice from some Discord pals
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextNovember 1 dawned cold and chilly, and the windows of the Slytherin dungeons were frosted over. Hazel got up early as usual, did all her morning things and went down to the common room. A few older snakes were there already, and they nodded to her; she nodded back, sat down at a table and went over an essay until breakfast.
She had expected a more disdainful response to her presence as she passed by the Gryffindor table, but apparently Neville and Hermione had got to them, because apart from a few cool glares, the lions left her alone. She was grateful that Neville was so easy to get along with, honestly.
Hermione intercepted her to compare notes about their last Astronomy lessons, apparently thinking she'd have seen different things since they had separate nights. "Mm… nope, looks just like my chart," she admitted after looking Hermione's chart over carefully. "I'll be sure to bring it down for our study group after lunch today and we'll make sure, alright?"
"Alright. Thanks, Hazel." She smiled and went back to her seat, and Hazel kept going, privately wondering why Hermione's dentist parents hadn't done anything about those alarming buck teeth of hers.
Study group went well too, even if some of the lions were still a little cool towards her. They didn't try anything while she had her snakes backing her up, of course, and she went out of her way to be as pleasant as possible. Of course, the dread at the upcoming detention ate away at her too, which dampened her mood, and she could barely eat that night at dinner.
"Might as well get it over with," she said at last, nodding to everyone as she stood up from the table. She went by the dungeons to drop her things off, then proceeded to Lockhart's office with a sinking feeling in her guts.
To her surprise she came across Gemma Farley as she was closing in on Lockhart's office. "Here," she said, pressing a little bronze knut into her hand. "If he tries anything funny, hold it in your hand and squeeze down hard, and we'll be right over; Jake and I are patrolling this section of the castle tonight." She held up a matching coin. "I've seen how he can't keep his hands off other girls, even the ones who don't like it; why he hasn't been sacked yet…"
"Yeah, he keeps trying that handsy shit with me too," Hazel muttered, pocketing the enchanted coin. "I told him I'd break every bone in his arm if he tries it again, and I will too."
Gemma smirked at that. "Muggle dueling, eh? Usually that's forbidden, but do what you have to do." She clapped Hazel on the shoulder and kept going, and Hazel covered the last hallway left before the door was before her. She took a deep breath and knocked.
"Come on in!" came that cheerful voice, and she grit her teeth as she stepped inside. The walls were covered in countless shining photographs of Lockhart himself, all smiling and winking; a fair few of them were even signed. "Here's the rascal now! Sit down, sit down, you're in for a treat tonight!" and he gestured grandly to a smaller chair behind his desk. "You're to address the envelopes, my dear!"
"Wonderful, sir." There was no way she'd sit anywhere near him; she dragged the chair around to in front of the desk and sat down, pulling a quill and an envelope towards her. "Is that everything?"
"Certainly not!" He laughed at the very idea. "All these pictures of yours truly, Hazel, they all have to be stuffed into those very envelopes! Now let's see- ah, Gladys Gudgeon, bless her…"
It was even worse than she'd imagined. Her hand was starting to cramp after an hour, and she despaired of making any progress on either the envelopes or the pictures. Lockhart wouldn't shut up the whole time either, telling stories about his fans or lecturing her on fame and fortune. "Fame's a fickle friend, Hazel," or "Celebrity is as celebrity does!" and tripe like that.
She didn't need to respond apart from the occasional "Hmm," or "You don't say." Which somehow made it worse; the candles slowly went lower, the pile of photos didn't, and Lockhart didn't even stop for breath. She repressed a yawn and glanced at the window, but it was too dark to see anything.
"Ah, wearing out already?" Lockhart beamed, and with a start she realized he was standing behind her. "Maybe a bit of a break is in order then…"
She felt him draw closer, and jumped up from the chair, putting a few feet between them. "Sir, it's getting late, I've classes tomorrow," she told him, willing herself to stand firm, "don't you think I've-?" But she cut herself off when she heard a voice, quite similar to the one she'd heard before; the same ice-cold, venomous muttering…
"Must feed… Come to me… Let me rip, let me tear… Must feed… Smell blood…"
"What are you talking about?" Lockhart was saying, closing the distance again while she was distracted. "We've barely made a dent in them! But yes… we could both use a break…"
"Did you hear that, sir?" she demanded, ducking around and getting away again. "There was a voice! Just now!" She reached into her pocket and grasped the knut, gripping it as tight as she could, and felt it grow warm in her grasp. "Something about feeding and blood…"
"What? Voice?" He looked bemused, but there was a glint in his eyes that made her sick. "There was nothing there, Hazel, just those old pipes rustling. Now forget that and come here already, this will only take a-"
But he was cut off by a pounding on his door. "Sir! Professor Lockhart, come quick!" came Gemma Farley's voice. "Moaning Myrtle's flooded her loo again, you need to come and calm her down before the whole castle drowns!"
"Damn." He straightened up and cleared his throat, reassuming his usual boisterous self. "Er, coming, Miss Farley, coming right away! I guess you're dismissed for tonight, Hazel, that Myrtle never settles down quickly-"
She didn't wait for him to finish, she just whirled and yanked the door open and dashed out into the halls. "Oh shit… thanks Gemma…" she gasped, holding her chest.
"Sure thing, Hazel." Lockhart was stepping out, just as Jake Weeks appeared. "Professor, you and Weeks go deal with Myrtle, okay? I should take Potter back to her dorm. Come along, Potter." Without waiting for permission she turned and hustled Hazel along, and she gladly went with her. When they were out of sight she slowed down and turned to face her. "Hell of a coincidence, you needing help when we were already running your way. What was he doing?"
"Trying to get me against the wall, kept going on about needing a break," Hazel muttered, not especially eager to go over it again so soon. "Miserable old wanker anyway…"
"Too right he is. Well, come on then, it's past curfew and I've still got to finish my patrol for the night." They turned and kept going, but then she heard the voice again!
"Time to kill… time to feed…"
"There it is again!" She wouldn't let it get away this time, she turned and ran back, heading upstairs. "Come on, it's gonna kill someone!"
"Smell blood! Blood! BLOOD!" that cold voice groaned, though it was already growing fainter. Farley was shouting something from behind but she paid no heed, the voice was getting away! Up the stairs, around the corner-
She stopped dead, aghast at the sight. Lit by flickering torches, foot-high words had been smeared on the wall between two windows:
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE
"Potter, what are y- what the hell!?" Gemma had seen it too. "Wait, what's THAT?" and she pointed below the words, where something was dangling from a torch bracket. Lockhart and Jake Weeks appeared too; Weeks must have stalled him somehow, Hazel figured dimly.
"I thought you two were headed back to the dungeons?" Lockhart said with a chuckle. "I don't mind if you- Merlin's beard!"
"Isn't that Filch's cat?" Weeks muttered, staring at the shadowy something. "Ugh, all this water…" Stepping around the huge puddle he tried to approach the cat, wand in hand.
"Enemies of the Heir, beware…" What did those words mean? And what was the Chamber of Secrets? Hazel shook her head and focused on Mrs Norris, who was hanging by her tail from the bracket, eyes wide and staring, stiff as a board under Weeks' prodding.
Lockhart was back to his old self and babbling something about a Transmogrifian Torture or whatever, but nobody paid attention. "We need Snape," Gemma muttered, reaching into her pocket. "Hopefully before anyone else sees…"
"What's going on here? Is it that miserable Myrtle again?" And out came Filch from behind a tapestry, preceded by his wheezing voice. "I swear, if she's- NO!" His bleary gaze fell on Mrs Norris, and his eyes bulged in rage and terror. "My cat! My cat! Oh Mrs Norris, what've they done to you!" He shoved past the others and ran up to the cat, somehow managing not to slip and fall in the water. "Which of you did this, then?! Was it you, Potter?!" He turned on Hazel with a snarl. "You killed her! You killed Mrs Norris! I'll kill you too, I will!"
"Argus!" came a sharp voice, and Albus Dumbledore swept onto the scene, closely followed by Professor Snape. "Stand away, all of you!" He had Mrs Norris detached from the bracket in seconds. "Gilderoy, we must borrow your office."
"Of course! No trouble, just upstairs-" But nobody listened, they all swept after Dumbledore as he strode up the halls, up the stairs and into the office so recently vacated. Hazel, Gemma and Weeks followed, along with the two Professors and the heartbroken Filch. A sweep of his wand cleared away the remnants of Hazel's detention, and he laid Mrs Norris out on the surface.
"It wasn't me, I was in detention all night," Hazel insisted to Snape while Dumbledore inspected the cat. "I've never even touched that mangy thing!"
"Don't speak of her that way!" Filch sobbed, glaring daggers at Hazel. "She's not mangy, she's smart and beautiful and, and- and whoever did this must pay!"
"Calm yourself, Filch," Snape said coolly. "No second-year student could do such a thing, and the prefects are above reproach in any event."
"No, not even a prefect could have done this," Dumbledore said at last, straightening up. "Mrs Norris is not dead, Argus, merely petrified."
"Merely petrified?" Filch wheezed, not seeming especially reassured. "But how? Who? Why?!"
"I cannot say." His gaze turned to Hazel. "You were heading back from your detention with Professor Lockhart, of course?"
"Yes sir," she said, meeting his somber gaze steadily. "Miss Farley came to get the Professor, apparently Moaning Myrtle was acting up again, and…"
"Ah, that would explain the water in the hallway," he replied, nodding. "But the dungeons are the other way, are they not?"
Hazel faltered at that, but Gemma stepped in. "We thought we heard something from upstairs, sir," she explained quickly. "I didn't wanna send Potter off alone, you know?"
"Most admirable of you, Gemma, of course." Dumbledore was lost in thought. "It is fortunate that we have Mandrake roots growing in the greenhouses, though in light of this we will endeavor to acquire more mature specimens so that a Restorative Draught can be prepared without delay."
"Of course!" Lockhart was eager to have all the attention again. "I'll do it, naturally, done it a hundred times, could do it in my sleep-"
"I beg your pardon, Gilderoy, but isn't Professor Snape the Potions Master?" Dumbledore interjected politely, cocking an eyebrow at Lockhart. "Now, it would not do for news of tonight's events to get out too quickly. Argus, until Mrs Norris is recovered your top priority must be to remove that message from the hallway below." The old man sniffled, but nodded resolutely. "Good. Gemma, see to it that Hazel returns straight to the dungeons, then you and Mr Weeks go to bed yourselves. I will ask the ghosts to finish your patrols."
"Yes sir." She caught Hazel's eye and nodded. "Off we go, Potter."
"Off we go." The sooner they were out of that office, the better. They didn't speak until they were back at the door to the common room. "Excelsior." She turned to Gemma as the door appeared. "Gemma… thanks for not saying anything about the voice… that wasn't the first time I heard it either, and I doubt I'd be popular if it gets out that…"
"Especially if this happens again." The older girl nodded grimly. "Don't worry, no one will hear it from me. But you should mention it to Snape or the Headmaster, alright? They're in charge for a reason, after all."
Hazel nodded and stepped through into the common room. A few older students were up late doing homework, but they ignored her, and after a moment she went on to her dorm, where she did her nightly routine and crawled into bed. She lay awake for what seemed like hours, though, while thoughts went through her head. Heir of Slytherin… she remembered her first visit to Gringotts, what that blood magic had revealed about her ancestry. But she'd remember lurking about and petrifying things, wouldn't she? How had they done it without being caught, with two prefects lurking about?
She'd have to speak to Moaning Myrtle about it, the whole thing happened outside her loo after all. With a plan in mind she settled back, ran through her Occlumency, and slowly drifted away.
Notes:We're getting serious now, folks. Tune in next week~
Chapter 10: ParseltongueSummary:Hazel reveals she can talk to snakes, and it doesn't take long for her to wish she hadn't. She also interrupts History of Magic!
Notes:Beta read by Halexis https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halexis/pseuds/Halexis
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextNews of the attack spread like wildfire regardless of Dumbledore's orders, of course. It didn't help that the bloody words wouldn't come off the walls, no matter how furiously Filch scrubbed at them with Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. The old caretaker was truly distraught at his cat's downfall, and Hazel would have felt bad for him if he didn't take it out on the students by roaming the halls, red-eyed and disheveled, pouncing on anyone in his way to try and put them in detention for the most inane reasons.
Hazel, of course, had confided in her friends at the first opportunity. "I keep hearing this voice in the walls," she began at breakfast, glancing around first. "And I'm pretty sure it's a snake, too; it was real loud before we found Mrs Norris-"
"Wait, you can talk to snakes??" Ron and Draco both blurted out at the same time, voices dropped to whispers.
"Well, yeah, so?" she replied, confused at their reaction. "I bet loads of people can-"
"No, they can't!" Draco had an awed look on his face. "It's called Parseltongue, Hazel, and it's really rare; only descendents of Salazar Slytherin can speak it, supposedly…"
"Oh." Cold panic flooded her guts, and she fought against it. "W-Well, who knows, I doubt I'd be related to him…"
"Good luck convincing anyone else," Ron muttered, glaring at a passing Ravenclaw, while Hermione looked alarmed and then thoughtful. "Everyone knows you were there last night, don't ask me how…"
Hazel looked up at the staff table and watched Lockhart laugh and tell some stupid story or other. She didn't need to ask Ron how everyone knew.
That week, after Potions was over, she hung back to talk to Snape. "Sir." She approached him, and he inclined his head to her. "Do, um, do you remember when we went to Gringotts the summer before last, sir? What that b-blood test said about my, um, possible heritage?"
"Indeed, Potter." He didn't seem surprised. "Doubtless you're worried about whether you've anything to do with this Chamber business, no?" She nodded wordlessly. "I should expect not; it isn't something a mere second-year student can do."
Interesting that he didn't deny the Chamber existed, she noted. "That's not all, sir, I…" She swallowed heavily and cleared her throat. "I know Parseltongue. I speak to snakes, have all my life as far as I know…"
"Who else knows you're a Parselmouth?" he said sharply, fixing her with his black gaze. "I hope even you would have enough sense to keep something like this to yourself-!"
"Don't worry, sir! Draco, Ron and Hermione, I mentioned it to them at breakfast on Monday… I think Gemma might suspect something, but I trust her…" Whoever might have overheard them speaking at breakfast would know too, she realized with a sinking feeling.
"When have you spoken to snakes recently, Potter?" Snape went on, slowly and carefully.
"W-Well, I haven't, actually, sir. But I keep hearing a snake in the walls, and I heard it again on Sunday right before we found Mrs Norris…"
Snape sighed heavily. "It is in fact very likely you are a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, then," he admitted quietly. "The Gaunt family was the last known to carry his blood, and to my knowledge, the last of them died imprisoned and disgraced over twenty years ago. Salazar Slytherin was famous for the gift of Parseltongue, which is why the symbol and heraldry of his House involves snakes. It must have been passed down through your mother, or perhaps on both sides, and the right combination of bloodlines happened to align when you came about…"
"That's Muggle talk, sir. Genetics and things like that." She smirked slightly, though it didn't last long. "Well, secrets don't last long in this school, so this will probably be one more thing for people to whisper about me over." She hitched her bag up onto her shoulder and turned away. "Thanks, Professor…" She walked to the door and headed out, not seeing the troubled expression on his face.
Sure enough, everyone seemed to know she was a Parseltongue by the time History of Magic came along. She could count on the Slytherins to back her up, of course, in public at least, and most of the Gryffindors were on her side too thanks to Hermione and the Weasleys. However, she had no one to vouch for her in Hufflepuff at all, and from the Ravenclaws there was only Luna Lovegood, whom everyone referred to as "Loony". More than once she caught sight of Crabbe and Goyle muttering to each other and staring at her, and they weren't smart enough to clam up when she stared back either.
At least no one knew if she really was an Heir of Slytherin, she decided as she put her hand up in Binns' class. "Sir," she said loudly, cutting off his droning lecture. "Can you tell us about the Chamber of Secrets?" Everyone else broke out of their usual stupor, and Draco looked excited.
"Oh, not this again, Perkins," the ghost said irritably. "My subject is History of Magic, not Myths and Legendsof Magic! We don't have time for rubbish, now back to the subject at hand," and he cleared his throat with a sound like chalk snapping.
"But sir, legends always have some basis in fact, right?" she insisted, hand still in the air.
"That's what Miss Grant said! And my answer remains the same!" Binns retorted, though he paused when he finally noticed that everyone was staring up at him. "Well, fine, if you really must know… quite irregular, discussing such sensationalism in my class, however…"
He cleared his throat again and hovered away from his chair to float from one side of the class to the other. "You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded well over a thousand years ago - no one today knows exactly when - by the four greatest witches and wizards of that day: Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, and Helga Hufflepuff, after whom the four Houses would be named. They built this castle together, far from the prying eyes of Muggles, for theirs was an age before the Statute of Secrecy, when the common folk feared us and persecuted us.
"For years the four Founders worked in harmony, seeking out children with magical abilities and bringing them to the castle to be trained and educated. It didn't last, of course, as a rift grew between Slytherin and the rest; he believed the school needed to be more selective of the students allowed within its walls, that magical learning should be confined to magical families. He saw Muggle-born students as untrustworthy, and eventually came to hate them with a passion; this passion resulted in a vicious argument between himself and his once-best friend Godric Gryffindor, and when he saw that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were opposed to his views as well, Slytherin left the school."
He paused, staring at them like a wrinkled turtle.
"This is, of course, where reliable facts leave the matter, and where the poppycock that is the Chamber of Secrets starts. Supposedly, before his departure, Slytherin had a hidden chamber constructed somewhere within the castle, which the other three Founders could never find. He named it the Chamber of Secrets, and sealed it so that only his true Heir could open it, unleash the horror within and purge the school of all who are unworthy."
He seemed to be finished, but everyone was still on edge, waiting to hear more. He looked annoyed and more turtle-like than ever. "It is all nonsense, naturally. Generations of Professors and Headmasters have searched the school from highest tower to deepest dungeon, and no trace of any such thing has ever been found. I assure you all, it is merely a fairy tale!"
"Sir, what do you mean by the 'horror within'?" Draco asked, putting his hand up too. "Some kind of monster?"
"Yes, supposedly, one that only Slytherin or his Heir can control, Melvin," Binns said, annoyance now quite palpable. Hazel got that cold feeling in her guts again, and the others were giving her anxious looks. "And before you say it, no, no, a thousand times no! If Dumbledore couldn't find and open this so-called Chamber, then it doesn't exist! And just because he doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, so don't bring that up either! Now, enough! We are done with myths and fairy tales, and will now resume verifiable history and fact! The next student who asks me about the Chamber of Secrets will be expelled!"
Five minutes later, everyone but Hazel was half-asleep yet again, and Binns was droning on about subcommittees of sorcerers in Sardinia or some such thing. She took notes automatically, but her heart wasn't in it. Someone else must have asked old Binns about the Chamber already, and she had a fair idea who…
That day at dinner, her suspicions were proven out. "Hazel, listen to this!" Hermione gasped, dashing up to where she was seated. "Ron and I asked Professor Binns about the Chamber of Secrets earlier, and-"
"She did, mate, I didn't say much," Ron panted, catching up in her wake. "Never seen that old buffer so teed off…"
"Yeah, neither had we," Hazel replied, "I asked him about it too." Despite her nerves, she was ravenous as usual and only paid half an ear to the others conferring with each other.
"You've got the firsties in a tizzy, Potter," said the voice of Gemma Farley, and the prefect sat down across from her. "Me and the other prefects are working overtime trying to reassure everyone and keep things from blowing up." She had a fierce grin on her face despite her words. "I see you've got your little lion friends, eh? Plotting how to save the school from itself again?"
"Of course we are," Hazel replied automatically before realizing what she was saying. "We'll have it all sorted before Yule, won't we, guys?"
"W-We will?" Ron replied, looking alarmed.
"'Course we will!" and she went back to her dinner, while Farley snorted and reached for a plate herself. Instantly she worried over how, but Yule was a long ways off so they had plenty of time.
Notes:Let me know what you think, as usual. Honest opinions welcome!