"That seems like a lot." Neville wasn't always one to comment or voice his opinions casually, but Harry could tell he was worried enough to make the effort. "I know Transfiguration is literally nothing to you, but you still have to write the essays and do the homework…"
"I mean yeah it's more work but I already pled my case with McGonagall and she's okay with it. I do have to get written approval from all the teachers to go through with this so it's not like I'm being overambitious without approval at least," He defended himself. "Besides, Hagrid is teaching Creatures next year! How much homework is he really going to give us?"
"Oh shit, is he? We're dead," Seamus winced. "You couldn't have told us that before we signed up for the classes!?"
"What, are you about to take Runes?" Harry challenged immediately.
"No, maybe Muggle Studies or something," He complained, but by Dean's eyeroll beside him that was not going to happen. It was more important to them that they had classes to suffer through together and neither Harry nor Dean even remembered Muggle Studies was a class until they saw it on the list since it was so pointless. It would've been an easy 'O' if they hadn't heard all about it from some upper years in the football club and realized the teacher didn't actually know too much about muggles, being a pureblood themselves, so it was a lot of misinformation and random shit being taught that wouldn't be as intuitive as a muggleborn would think.
Seamus' complaints were ignored.
"Hagrid is not that bad, and magical creatures are important. Come on, it'll be fun!"
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say," he grumbled.
"Is that why you've been so worried over your Charms homeworks? You need Professor Flitwick's approval too." Neville called him out and Harry winced.
"Ah… I'm also just trying to be a better student…"
"Oh sure you are," Dean laughed at him and Harry ran up the last few steps to their dorm room, eager to change out of his uniform before dinner but also escape the conversation playfully.
Except, upon opening their door he was completely thrown by both the most unexpected, yet somehow entirely unsurprising scene, of their entire dorm in utter chaos. Well, most of it… Ron's was always terrible but his area looked like a bomb had gone off in it.
He had a lot of clothes, okay? And now they were everywhere—along with everything that had been in and on his desk now on the floor and his bed nearly overturned.
Oh, and Ron Weasley standing in the middle of the room, now looking shocked as hell to be face to face with him right now.
"The fuck?" Seamus was yelling instantly.
The other guys entered after him and saw it all too, clearly making the same assumption.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing man!?" Seamus was on him instantly, and the younger Weasley instantly got red in the face.
"I just got here! I don't know what that's about either!" He shouted right back, and for some reason Harry believed him.
Mainly because he'd already mentally come to terms with the fact there were rumors about people attacking him, and he'd practically been waiting for this to happen. Clothes were just clothes, he was a rich child and could buy more, so it didn't really matter to him in the end.
What did matter was the gifts his friends had given him, and as he did a quick scan of the damage he realized Neville's framed glass flowers, the little flower pot from last Christmas, even Dean's jade jewelry box were all perfectly intact and unbroken. If someone had wanted to hurt him, they'd have smashed the delicate things into a million pieces. This though… every drawer of his desk was open and empty, all his letters, books, and assorted parchments were on the floor or tossed aside, even his trunk dragged out and emptied beneath and overturned mattress overturned.
Whoever had done this, they'd been looking for something. Nothing had actually been damaged though, it was all perfectly fixable.
If it were Ron or an upper year that hated him, they'd have broken things. Stolen things even that looked important, like the jewelry box or any of this clips and shiny things he'd decorated his space with, but it was all still there despite now being thrown around and tossed aside if they'd gotten in the way.
"—if you can't keep your bloody hands to yourself—!"
"Seamus, he didn't do it." Harry cut off the yelling match happening behind him, glancing over to see both boys freezing—fists literally in each other's robes and very nearly wrestling. "Stop that, save it for the real culprit." he frowned and Seamus shoved off Ron aggressively. They exchanged acidic glares but did, in fact, stop the near fist fight that had been about to happen.
"How'd you know?" Ron grumbled, irritated. "N-not that I did it or anything, cause I didn't! Just, how'd you know so quick?"
"Well…" he inched forward into his area cautiously, but when he didn't trigger any wards or spells set up for him to find, it pretty much confirmed his suspicion. "If it were you, you'd have broken things. It's all just a mess but nothing is missing or damaged really. If it were those upper years you're hanging around with they'd have left some kind of prank behind, like a ward something that activates when I got close, but there's nothing here," He waved an arm cautiously in the air around his desk and true to his words, nothing happened.
"So then what is this?" Dean came over too, confused.
"I mean, it seems like someone was looking for something I think. I don't see anything noticeable missing though—most of my important stuff I keep on me," he patted his bag over his shoulders. He wasn't sure he ever explicitlysaid it was near-bottomless nor the depth of what was in it since it certainly appeared all but flat where it hung across his shoulders pretty much always. He took it off about as often as he took off the not-so-invisible-invisibility cloak, which was to say almost never save for when he was playing sports—it was really just part of the outfit at this point.
"I-I don't hang out with upper years!" Ron was still on his previous statement but Harry just rolled his eyes.
"What exactly is the point of hiding that? Everyone knows you do?" He gave the guy an incredulous look, but he just turned an even brighter red.
"How would you know that," He accused, and Harry put his hands out to the sides as if to steady himself.
Am I in the twilight zone? What a weird ass question?
"Um… what? Of course I know, how the hell wouldn't I? Particularly since those particular upper years aren't exactly quiet about threatening to tie me to the quidditch goals, why did you think I wouldn't notice?"
"They did what?"
Neville, that time, actually darkened his expression. Harry wanted to pacify him and say it was just a rumor but by the way Ron actually paled some and guiltily shifted where he stood, he realized that rumor probably wasn't too far from the truth.
"They're all bark, mostly no bite—they're just talking big to feel big. They're also unrelated to this situation I think, however this culprit does also have to be a Gryffindor to be able to get in here," Harry waved at the mess his area of the room was, the annoyance finally setting in when he realized just how much cleaning up this was going to take.
"We're coming back to that later," Neville frowned, but came over to put his stuff on his bed and join in on observing the situation. "But you're sure nothing is missing?"
"Maybe my Transfiguration notes or something? I don't have anything special lying around though. Since last year when Montague stole my final paper, McGonagall makes me keep the full drafts of my better papers in her office. The rest of this is normal homeworks and stuff which I hardly care if someone takes I guess… they could've just asked for them." He complained, mind still trying to catalogue what might've been here as he bent down to beginning picking up papers and at least getting the clothes off the floor.
Even as he sorted, none of his clothes were damaged or even dirty in any way: they really had been looking for something.
"Maybe it was something you had on you that they just didn't know you did," Dean offered and Harry racked his brain…
"I mean, maybe? I'm not sure what…" He dug through his bag to see if anything would catch his eye but he had a lot of books and valuables and calming drafts and more in there. "Nothing comes to mind. I have no idea." He admitted.
"Well… either they got what they wanted and you won't miss it, or they didn't get it at all." Neville concluded Harry's own thoughts, helping him collect papers to put back on his desk.
"I'm gonna go tell a prefect, because even if they didn't get anything it still pisses me off someone broke in here at all! They had to be a Gryffindor too, which is crazy," Seamus huffed and went back out the door before Harry could stop him.
Which, a second later he closed his mouth, knowing he was probably right. Just because he had zero faith in authority figures didn't mean it wasn't the right thing to do, or else someone else could get robbed much more successfully next time. Then he remembered the nearest prefect right now was probably Percy, and for some reason he trusted that guy more than any professor save for McGonagall honestly.
In any case, he blew out a breath and resigned himself to spend the next hour cleaning and re-organizing everything he owned instead of relaxing before dinner, thankful for Neville's help.
Dean too, as he crouched and also started picking up some clothes to at least lay on the beds in some semblance of order for him. "You now, I didn't think you were serious about the high road thing." He commented and Harry automatically looked back toward Ron—who had disappeared from the room.
"Well." He began, but wasn't really sure where to go with it. "I mean, I was… shame on you for calling me a liar."
"You really don't think he had anything to do with this?" Neville gave him a look as he gathered papers in his arms, and Harry glanced around—eyeing the flowers incased in glass hanging over his bed, perfectly safe from the chaos below.
"…I really don't. I don't like him but I feel like I at least understand his motives by now. What would he gain from this? What is the point? I can't even think of a point at all, much less why Ron would do it. Much less why he'd get caught at the scene of the crime—he's oblivious, not stupid."
"That's the nicest thing I've ever heard you say about him." Dean snorted.
"'Know thy enemy' and whatnot." He rolled his eyes, beginning the very annoying process of hanging his clothes back up in the wardrobe once more. Maybe he should cut back on the amount of clothes he had…
Or maybe not. Maybe he should get serious about tailoring/transfiguring clothes and use some of these as sacrifices to practice. That might be a nice way to relax.
"You have too many clothes man," Dean snapped him out of his mild mannered thoughts, and instantly Harry took back his own internal statement. It was fine for him to think it, less fine for others to comment.
He retaliated by transfiguring the hem of his roommate's robes to be double the length before he could blink and he immediately tripped over it with a shout—at least being lucky enough to land in a veritable pile of rainbow-colored clothes beneath him.
"Why thank you for volunteering Dean, I actually got some really nice Christmas presents from a couple Slytherins this year that you're going to help me test them out. I can't help but notice your robes as a little big on you."
"Ack—volunteer for what?" The guy snapped his head up, trying to get up quickly to avoid Harry's grabby hands but with his robes now far too long and practically a tent on him he didn't get far.
"Just stand in front of the mirror and find out!" He hauled him up—Dean was quite noticeably taller than all of them at this point but while incapacitated by the blanket of cloth around him and not good enough at Transfiguration to just fix his robes and run, Harry had the upper hand. "Stand still or you'll get cut!"
"What?"
"I'd give in, he's on a mission." Neville commented sagely, not even really paying attention as he continued to actually be helpful and get the papers off the floor and away from the scuffle. He was more than used to being pushed around and dressed like a doll by his friend at this point too, long since past the point of resignation and now just finding it rather normal—and clearly not surprised Harry's hobby had eventually spread to someone else.
"What are you going to do!? You better fix my robes after this," Dean threatened, clearly sweating a bit but Harry just beamed over his shoulder in the wardrobe mirror.
"I'll fix them right up, just hold still!" He unearthed the enchanted scissors Theo had given him and saw Dean freeze as he realized exactly what he was in for.
000
It was as if fate were teasing him when he heard it again, only this time he was entirely alone.
…sss…lll…
At first he thought it was a pipe, just like the first time he'd heard it, and very nearly didn't even pay attention to it at all as he made his way down to the great hall for breakfast, until suddenly the words filtered into his brain.
…ungry… kILl… om… n…. sssO hUNgrY…
He froze, looking around the empty hallway around him and heart skipping a beat. He had his wand in-hand immediately but there was literally nothing for a long stretch of hallways for something like that to be hiding. It had to be invisible, right?
It made him paranoid, and he lifted his invisibility cloak hood to disappear himself. Two could play at that game and he did not like the idea something could see him while he couldn't see it.
This was the third time he was hearing this thing and the first time he'd been probably too confident, too complacent since he was with an unconcerned Daphne and Melinda. The second time he'd been too scared, distracted by the gut-wrenching fear of Neville being undefended beside him, of the voice heading towards an unsuspecting Draco.
This time, it was just him, and there was no reason not to act on his paranoia. Everyone else in the castle was probably at breakfast right now, most of the population getting ready for the quidditch match afterwards and he was ridiculously late so no one else should be in any of the halls around him right now. He'd decided to last-minute re-organize his entire desk since everything had been hastily put back yesterday anyway, but it'd taken way longer than he'd liked and now breakfast had already started and he was the last one no there probably.
But it was also the perfect time to track this thing then, even if he ended up needing to go right to the quidditch pitch instead of breakfast. He could last one game on an empty stomach, probably.
…ell… blood…. I sssmell… kill… kiLL…
He tried to gauge if it was coming closer or moving away, and found it was going the same direction he'd been so he cautiously followed it, gripping the wand in his hand tightly.
If something popped up in front of him, he was ready to dodge and roll away. If it were corporal then he had the stunning spell ready to go, but also slipped out several old quills from his bag he'd been saving and was fully prepared to transfigure them into whatever they needed to be in order to block or attack for him. If it were incorporeal he also prepared a bell charm—a simple thing teachers used to get their classes' attention all the time, but ratcheted up by a hundred so that even people in the Great Hall would be able to hear it. If he used it and followed up with the giggling charm on himself maybe it'd prevent him getting possessed or petrified himself.
He still had no proof this voice was related to the petrification at all but… he had a feeling.
And at this point he was going to trust his gut because overthinking hadn't gotten him anything but nightmares anyway.
The voice suddenly got softer and he held his breath even as he tried to walk quicker, still on silent feet to follow it. He got to a cross in the hallways but it didn't cross with him, and he back tracked to realize it was going down the corridor to his left. It only took him another couple quick strides and then straying too close to the wall to realize it wasn't in the open with him, it was in the walls.
It sure as hell sounded like a pipe, and given it was in the walls he would've dismissed it as such if not for the murderous words.
Okay, maybe it's not a ghost or something at all, maybe it's real but hiding, he connected, switching his plans to fighting back with more physical attacked and gripping the feathers in his hand tightly.
The voice trailed off then though, and he got right up to the wall and pressed his ear to it cautiously—but desperately, since he had to know.
The whispering got farther away until he lost the words entirely and it was reduced back to a pipe sound, before there was nothing—except for this strange sound he couldn't place. It almost sounded like when you dragged a bare hand across stone, but… much rougher, much louder than a soft palm…
And then it was gone.
He waited a second to be sure there was no further hint before stepping back and glaring at the blank stone in front of him. A tiny part of him wanted to see if he couldn't transfigure it to porcelain then throw a book at it or something to break into whatever was behind it that this thing was moving through, but knew now wasn't the time.
Despite how riled he was, he was still a second-year and he needed to regroup first.
Actually, he needed to eat first and then win a quidditch game, and then he'd form a plan. The plan probably involved back up of some sort, but he wasn't yet sure if he wasn't being too stupidly Gryffindor to count on his classmates or if he should involve McGonagall or someone about this. Snape had clearly failed but maybe with a teacher's permission they'd let/help him break down this wall to check it out.
Well, for later then.
He checked the time and realized how late he was so he ran off, barely remembering to take down his hood and become visible just before reaching the great hall—and seeing someone standing outside the doors clearly waiting on someone.
Waiting on him apparently when Daphne shot him an annoyed look.
"How can you be late, today of all days? I'm hungry too!" She complained, but then actually noticed the look on his face. "What's wrong?"
"I heard the freakin' voice again," He admitted, and she balked, glancing into the Great Hall behind them but the din was far too loud for anyone to overhear them.
"What!? The murderous one!?"
"Yeah. I thought Snape looked into it," He frowned and she gave an uncertain shrug.
"He did, so I heard. That it's clearly not gone is… not good."
"Yeah no shit. I'm about to go full Gryffindor and assume it's related to the petrification thing at this point, because there's no way this is a coincidence." He told her.
She didn't seem to be able to argue it. "It's been all term with no other cases, the teachers in particular seem to be hoping it's just over with now… though I guess if someone gets petrified today we'll have our answer." She allowed.
"I really don't want anyone else to get hurt just to test a theory." He frowned but it wasn't like there was much else they could do at this point. Tell a teacher? They already had both about the petrification and the voice and nothing as of yet had been done. If they did end up being connected though…
"Neither do I but at this point there's not much else we can do," She voiced his thoughts. "If we're going to keep brainstorming though can we at least eat while we do it? I'm starving,"
"Right… were you waiting here for a reason or…?" Clearly she had wanted to catch him alone for a moment before he'd gone in to breakfast.
"Yeah, that journal you asked about." She reminded him, and he'd pretty much completely forgotten he'd asked her about that at all.
"Ah! I was wondering what was happening with that,"
"Nothing much unfortunately. As you can probably guess, my family is kind of busy right now." She gave him a significant look. He should've seen that coming, clearly the trial was taking more of Sebastian Greengrass' time than some minor request for information about a random cursed journal. "Dad did confirm from its description not to take it lightly. Stuff that can talk for itself is kind of hit-or-miss with how dangerous it is and you don't want to guess wrong. If you give it to me to take home over Easter break he can probably take a look but…" She trailed off and he immediately waved the suggestion away.
"Yeah no, he's doing more than enough. Not that I don't love working with you but I think I'm done for a while." Thankfully she just offered a small smile, not surprised. Giving her family a blanket deal meant that while he'd deal with her, he was not currently interested in giving the Greengrass family as a whole any more leverage than they already had over him. "Thanks for trying anyway though, I appreciate it."
"The only thing I can suggest is that if it's not an ordinary magic like the stuff that brings paintings to life, you will probably need a dark family to help identify it. If Dad can't to it quickly, that means it's specialized and also not something you'd find in Diagon exactly."
Meaning it was probably dark magic of some sort. Not necessarily dangerous or violent, but illegal for sure and known, private information of pureblood families who taught their children dark magic secretly for the advantage. Since the only dark Slytherin he was on good enough terms with at the moment to trade like that with was Theo, and he was not asking the elder Nott anything on point of death, that meant he'd probably need to trade with a dark family through a proxy of some sort.
He needed to think about that more, that was a lot of effort for a book a couple first years found in a toilet.
"Hmm… maybe I shouldn't have this on me at school." He acknowledged, patting his bag before remembering he'd put it back in his dorm… somewhere? It was so long ago and he'd forgotten almost as soon as his younger friends had given it to him, it was probably in his desk somewhere.
Although he'd just cleaned that desk and didn't immediately remember seeing it…
"Don't get caught with it, no." Daphne agreed, and Harry shrugged it off. It had to be in his bag somewhere then, he'd put it somewhere safe later.
"This isn't the random dark object causing the voices or the petrification, right?" He floated a new theory to her as she lead the way into the hall, and he decided to follow her to the Slytherin table to keep on this.
"I really doubt it—it's just a journal."
"It talks though!"
"Unless it brainwashes you into doing it somehow, it's just a journal. Don't talk to it." She offered bluntly.
"Right. Didn't have plans to." He reassured her, perking up to see Draco as he sat beside him, getting a small smile of good morning.
"Excited?" Draco clearly was.
"For the match? Yeah sure, though highly distracted by hearing another disembodied voice this morning." He confessed.
"What?" Draco did a double take, casual drinking of his tea over a morning conversation clearly derailed.
"Just after eight in the morning and he's already losing it—maybe I'll actually enjoy this game today," Blaise wasn't even that interested as he barely looked up, he just made the comment to be annoying while still mainly eating his breakfast.
"I take issue with that."
"Good for you. You're the only one whose heard it so perhaps you've just gone insane? Did anyone check to see if he was just hearing voices?" Blaise casually asked the table in general and ignored Harry's glare.
"If they're gonna be checking me they should definitely be checking you first. If I'm headed to the loony bin then you'll be right beside me bitch,"
"Well so long as my room is bigger than yours." He shrugged, unbothered as he continue to eat his lunch.
"You had no problem believing me before," He countered.
"Because I thought you were going insane and that was interesting. I'm no longer interested." The Zabini announced bluntly, not even looking up from his toast annoyingly enough.
Harry turned to Draco with a raised brow. "What's got him in a twist?"
"I don't know, and I don't want to know. Where did you hear it?" The blond frowned and Harry described the second-floor hallway he'd first heard it, not explicitly betraying that he'd been lion enough to follow it this time but that on his way down here he happened to notice it going that way too—and also his new theory about it being less a ghostly thing and more a real thing that was just in the walls. Pretty much everyone but Blaise was listening close too, even Theo pausing to look up and take note of the potential danger.
But then Harry was interrupted from his recounting mid-tale.
"A pipe?" Draco repeated suddenly, brow furrowing sharply.
"Yeah, like steam being let out of a pipe."
"So… it's hissing." The blond announced and he blinked.
"Uh… yeah I guess-"
"Hissing that only you can hear." Draco repeated again, in a tone that implied how so incredibly over it he was. "So it's a snake."
There was silence on their end of the Slytherin table for a moment, interrupted only by Blaise continuing to eat his breakfast and casually glance up at what they were talking about.
"Oh shit." Theo blurted out, and Harry leaned forward on the table in stress.
"How did I miss that!?" he exclaimed, Draco putting his tea down with a huff, completely done with them all.
"Oh for Merlin's sake,"
Daphane got bright red, clearly sharing Harry's shame now that they realized how bloody obvious that connection really was. "Well when you put it like that…"
Draco rolled eyes and Harry gave a weak sound of protest.
"Okay, to be fair, there's a difference in magnitude here! Pipes are bigger than snakes, and it clearly sounds way bigger—like a giant versus a human! And that sound at the end was-"
Except, he had thought it was a much bigger sound than someone touching stone. Like something soft and tactile like skin touching a lot of stone… on a bigger scale…
"…if it is a snake, it's massive then." Was all he could say.
"A really big snake? If it is, how has it not been seen then?" Daphne tried to play devil's advocate, but Harry felt a chill as he recalled a tiny bit of information he'd learned earlier this year and cleared his throat awkwardly, catching their looks again.
"Ah… okay, so for no particular reason, I know that snakes can travel through the walls of Hogwarts, though I'm not sure what the size limit is."
"Bloody hell," Daphne put her face in her hands while Draco stared at him incredulously. Harry pointedly looked away too casually to be believed.
"Yeah, fucking hate that." Blaise commented dryly.
But then, Theo snapped his head up at the guy beside him with a sudden look of utter distaste on his face. Harry hadn't actually seen it activate before but he instantly knew that was Theo's inhuman ability to pick up danger kicking in—normally he disappeared to get out of dodge immediately, but this time he just seemed agitated instead.
"You've been awfully quiet." He accused lowly, and Blaise turned to give him one perfectly arched eyebrow.
Harry knew why—it was as if a mouse had suddenly decided to talk back to a wolf. He'd been ready to fight a murderous, disembodied voice ten minutes ago and yet this made him more nervous just to witness it. He didn't know why Theo was pushing it when the Zabini heir was clearly not in the mood today.
"Says you? The actual book worm at the table?" Blaise gave a mockery of his normal effort to be indignant, but everyone could clearly tell he didn't care.
"Deflection." Theo accused simply.
"Oi, don't just call me on it like that, play it up more. You're so boring." He complained, annoyed.
"He's not wrong though. We were just saying this voice I'm hearing might also be the cause of the petrification since we don't have anything else to go off of, but it occurs to me you've always been super quiet during those discussions. You're telling me you had no thoughts on what it could be?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"Excuse you, my love for gossip is not strong enough for me to go around spreading false gossip. The rumors were entertaining enough without my input." The guy brushed the implication aside cleanly.
"Yeah, pretty damn wild now that I think about it." Daphne blinked, giving him and Draco beside her a significant look. "I myself had bought pretty solidly into that idea it was a dark object Lockhart had… Snape himself said as much."
Which, now that they were putting the pieces together, they all realized just how suspicious it was that none of the other theories they'd ever had, spoken about in front of Blaise even, had ever made it into the school's gossip mill apart from that one.
"What are you implying, Greengrass?" Blaise narrowed his eyes at her, finally actually paying attention again.
"Oh nothing, only that you knew Harry was hearing this voice and somehow the entire school doesn't yet. That's weird for you, isn't it? Would've figured your fat mouth would've let half the school think he was insane just to amuse yourself by now," She shot at him and smirked at the glare she got back.
"Unless he couldn't." Harry realized, seeing Blaise's eyes flash and immediately knew he'd nailed it. "Oh my god it is, isn't it!?"
"What happened?" Daphne did a double take while Draco made a small sound of distress as he forgot his breakfast entirely.
"We made a deal, when we found out I was a parselmouth. I made him sit on the information for a week so I could handle it and then when he was allowed to talk about it I had him only phrase it as a good thing. He couldn't go around telling people I was crazy for hearing voices because he knew it was a snake and that would count as it being something negative about me talking to snakes!"
Which would mean Blaise had been purposefully throwing them off the scent this whole time. It made… a frightening amount of sense, given how none of them, all of them great Slytherins not just in their year level or above, ever realized until just now when Draco put it together? Harry wasn't always the quickest on the uptake but how had no one in the snake house been clever enough to connect these pieces? None of the upper years, not even Snape?
To be fair to Snape he didn't know Harry was the one who'd heard the voice when Daphne told him about it, but Blaise sure as hell did. Daphne hadn't kept it a secret with Harry's support because he'd been nervous he heard it so close to the Slytherin common room, so plenty of the house had all the pieces… but they hadn't actually heard much commentary about it, probably because there was one person with an iron grip over rumor mill who had the ability to squash whatever rumors—true or false—that he didn't want getting out.
The only answer that mollified their hurt egos of not figuring it out sooner was if they had been sabotaged, so it was an easy thing to want to believe.
They all looked at the Slytherin in question, who just rolled his eyes as he finished his tea in one go.
"That's some theory dear, however you're going to need to do better than that."
"I can't prove anything, but laid out like this it's hard to believe it's not a snake, and you clearly don't seem that shocked." Harry wouldn't let him escape that easily.
"I mean is it? Just because Malfoy is sure doesn't mean it's the truth. The only people who've seen it are petrified."
But Theo made a face again, giving Harry a pointed look. Not that he needed it—it was far too rational an answer from someone like him.
"He's lying."
"Now why would he do that?" Harry played into it, ignoring Blaise shooting the both of them disgusted glares.
"Fuck you, why would I lie?"
"Why indeed. Why do you do anything?" Harry challenged easily.
Blaise paused, then gave a sly smile as if he liked that answer much better. "You make a fair point, love." He cooed, but Harry wasn't about to get pulled into the flirting game right now—not with information this important on the line.
Neither was Theo clearly, who grumbled under his breath. "It's still a deflection…"
Blaise tossed his hands in the air, annoyed by all of them.
"So, why lie?" Harry pressed harder.
"I think the real question is that no matter what you think of me, you're just going to believe Malfoy's random ass claim it's snake at all?" But almost as soon as he said it, Harry smirked and he cursed darkly beneath his breath. "Actually scratch that, yeah you are. Bitch."
Harry preened and Draco perked up, encouraged he had Harry's total faith. Theo scrunched up his face at both of their reactions, frankly disgusted even if he also agreed with the theory.
"So with that out of the way, the jig is up! Unless you want to resort to telling me that Draco is just more clever than you, to put it together while you've had all the pieces for months and still didn't put it together?" Harry challenged him dryly.
Blaise paused.
…and then slumped over the table with a whine.
"You guys are no fun! Okay fine, whatever. I don't spread lies and the gossip was funny enough on its own. Yeah, maybe the snake thing was a tad relevant, but it was way funnier to blame Lockhart and you know it!" He mockingly wept.
The rest of them could only share a moment of total shock he'd actually admitted it… much less the implications. "How long have you known!?" Daphne gasped.
"Oh please, since I saw Mrs. Norris." Blaise waved her off without further explanation at all, and Harry felt his mind melt between his ears. This guy… this guy…
"But people could die." Draco got there first, frowning so deep he almost seemed sad even. "That rumor got so bad even Snape believes it—which means the other teachers probably do too. They could be actually fixing the problem if they knew what it was but instead you're going to let people get petrified, and potentially die… because it's funny?"
Blaise looked totally unbothered, placing his chin on a hand with a calm smile.
"Is that wrong?" He wondered aloud, a bit too innocently.
Harry felt a chill again.
Like he was hearing the voice again, only a little bit worse somehow.
Right… this boy is psycho.
And just like with Ron earlier, he relaxed.
You didn't get mad at a fox for eating a chicken, it's just what they did. No one would ever have any luck trying to teach a bored, starving alligator that eating deer at the side of the pond wasn't morally right—no alligator gave a shit, and it was just how the world worked.
Predators ate prey, the sky turned blue with the sun, and you needed air to breathe.
These weren't things that were strictly new to Harry. Just because gravity sometimes scared him if he was falling from his broom at a fatal height, didn't mean he was shocked that such a normal, natural thing like gravity existed in the first place. Nature was scary all on its own, but that didn't mean it was unnatural.
Blaise was not a safe or kind person to be friends with.
That was in no way new information, even if it made his stomach churn sometimes when he got reminded of it.
So somehow, he came to terms with this pretty quickly, recognizing that how he got this information was less important than what they did with it now.
"Well, if I die because of your stupid meddling, you better put on a great show of crying at my funeral. I want you sobbing, got it jerk?" He decided.
He heard Daphne's disapproving response to that beside him but it was overshadowed by the sheer glee on Blaise's face as he looked at him like the he was the sunrise himself. He'd been acting kind of aloof and bored since Harry sat down but it evaporated now, his energy coming back in a burst of glee it was almost sweet somehow. Childish, if not also completely bent.
It was nice to know someone was thrilled to see you, even if in this situation it probably shouldn't be.
"But of course! It'll be the performance of a lifetime I promise! Tulips are your favorite right? I'll bring a thousand in every color," He cheered happily with a grin that was somehow both excited like a kid on Christmas yet also impossibly sinister given the words coming out of his lips.
Harry stumbled a bit on the flower though. "Wait, how'd you know that?"
"Details—obviously I'd know! Marry me?" He tried to slip it in like that would take him off guard but somehow Harry saw it coming.
"Nope." He put a finger up without missing a beat. "Also, can't marry me if I'm dead."
"Hm," Blaise deflated some, like that was the first time he'd needed to consider that point. "There might be a slight flaw in my plans then." He admitted.
"A slight flaw, sure." Draco was now more annoyed than ever and shoving his plate away from him in defiance of what was happening. He was obviously not nearly as okay as Harry was about people dying which was kind of a unique twist. Harry certainly cared more about people in general that most Slytherins did, but he also had a pretty twisted relationship with death and so this development wasn't nearly as bad to him as it probably was for others.
Or, he was traumatized and apathy towards death was a coping mechanism.
He decided not to think about that too deeply.
He certainly wasn't going to think too deeply about what that meant for Blaise either.
"On that note, I have a question." Said Slytherin twitched gears immediately now that his energy had returned, and Harry saw Theo shrink into his seat as if he could get away from them without needing to get up, which clued him in that Blaise was on a roll now and wherever he was going with it wasn't going to be pleasant.
"Well thanks for announcing it." Harry gestured for him to go ahead and he beamed.
"On what note?" Draco shot him a stink eye but was ignored.
"Marriage, obviously." He waved a bit too casually to be believed, before at Harry with a look that told him he was going to regret this.
And he was certainly right:
"I know about the trial."
He announced it at a normal volume, but it felt like he was shouting from how quiet Harry's hearing got. The blood in his ears pumped too loudly and he vaguely realized he still had those feathers in his pocket… if he Transfigured them into rats to shove into his mouth, maybe he'd shut the fuck up.
Blaise's eyes sparkled over a rather triumphant smile. "Oh my, isn't that a nice look?"
Harry almost reacted—and he for sure would've regrated that reaction—but paused when Daphne put a hand on his in his lap and he paused. One glance at her unholy glare shot across the table at their mutual foe right now showed he was not alone in this… and he was paying the Greengrass family to handle this for him. Her father was doing most of the world but it was a blanket deal from the Potter family to the entire Greengrass family, meaning this was just as much, if not more, Daphne's fight than it was his.
That she somehow looked even angrier than he felt was the only reason he held his tongue, but it was a close one.
"Zabini… I should've known your whore of a mother would never be able to keep her filthy hands off something so interesting, but that she thought it worthwhile to bother telling her worthless son is bit of a laugh, isn't it?"
Even Draco was silent, realizing this was not the fight he was ready for, following Harry's lead.
Blaise made a childish face but ultimately rolled his eyes, unaffected by her words. "Nice try Greengrass, but my whore of a mother is a bit above taunting. And honestly, you can't think of one reason mother dearest had for telling me?" His smile was almost casual if Harry didn't feel his own fight-or-flight instinct kick in for some reason.
Daphne literally gagged.
"You are a twisted and sick son of bitch, you know that?!" She snapped. "I knew you didn't actually care!"
"Of course I care, and because I care so much I promise I'll keep quiet. Don't worry your ugly little head." He placed a hand over his chest in a show of mock sincerity, however for some reason Harry did actually believe he was telling the truth. Whether that was wise or not was to be seen, but it did let him relax a bit.
Daphne took the moment to glance at Harry a bit apologetically, but he got the message.
Whatever that exchange had been about, she also believed he wouldn't spill he beans to anyone, which was about as good a promise as they could hope for. Despite how that shook him, he knew he couldn't really blame her or her father: the Zabinis were simply uncontainable. It really shouldn't have been a shock at all that they'd figured it out.
And now that he thought about it, Blaise had probably known for a while now and way just sitting on the information to spring on him now of all times. Why though?
Why did Blaise do anything?
To fuck with him, most likely. Since he just proved to be happy about his non-reaction to his crazy, they could also probably assume this was somehow a thank you of some sort? A crazy person's attempt at showing that they were doing something nice in exchange for being shown kindness themselves?
Whatever the logic, the Zabini's had no reason to get involved with this trial, but showing they knew about the secret dealings of the Greengrass family was a power play Harry probably just didn't understand the point of yet. Or maybe it was just Blaise and there was no point.
That was probably the most likely, unfortunately.
"Well thank you I guess? Kind of rude to give me a heart attack right before a quidditch game though." He pouted. "There's no way you actually care about the outcome, right?"
"Of course I care! You're my friend aren't you? It changes quite a bit if things go well, right?" He beamed, and Harry ignored how his stomach flipped to be talking about this so openly in the great hall of all places. "Besides, if the man of the hour is acquitted, does that mean you inherit the family fortune, not Malfoy?"
Harry's brain short-circuited.
Even Draco made a small choking sound as if that literally out of nowhere comment had physically hit him in the gut.
He obviously meant the Black family wealth, which was technically renowned to be second only to the Malfoys themselves. He genuinely hadn't given it that much thought but yes, as it stood Narcissa Malfoy nee Black was currently supposed to get it upon since both her cousin, the actual Black heir and only competition to the fortune, was incarcerated.
And yes that was all technically true but like what the hell was he talking about?
He literally couldn't for a response he was so stunned.
"You are… an insensitive asshole." Daphne announced, thankfully filling the silence he had no idea how to break.
Blaise just shrugged like he already knew that and was still waiting for his answer.
"That is about the most soullessly Slytherin thing I've ever been asked… but yeah? I guess?"
"The answer is yes unless he has children of his own." Draco muttered beside him, mainly for Harry's edification since he hadn't given that much thought at all. It was a very Slytherin fact that would be relevant at some point though so it did no good to be ignorant of it, even if he really wished they were not talking about it NOW.
"Can I ask why you care? Neither the Malfoy nor Potter lines need that money, and I think you know that." Harry shook off his shock enough to focus on the actual issue here. He narrowed his gaze. "Now that I think about it, you're really not gold motivated, which is weird but you're already super freaking weird so I never questioned it. What's with this now?"
Juxtaposed with Daphne who was a businesswoman at heart, if Blaise had a chance to sow chaos even if it cost him half his fortune to do it, he would in a heartbeat. So somehow Harry knew it wasn't about the money with him here, which made him even more terrifying.
"Thank you dear." Blaise flashed him a grin as if it were a compliment. "I was just curious is all."
Theo was being abnormally bold today when he answer for him instead.
"You inheriting wealth and a line that pure means Dalia Zabini isn't going to get mad her son is flirting with someone 'low class'." He explained, and Harry wasn't going to question how he knew what was going on—he was sure there'd been enough context clues in this conversation for the most observant snake in the entire house to figure enough out.
"Ahhh, that makes way more sense!"
Blaise made a face and leaned over to him in a way that was both friendly and highly threatening. "Theodore my love: fuck off."
"Don't ever call me that again," Theo shuddered, visibly disturbed.
"Haaarrrryyyy, I mean you could marry me—think about it! We could have a really messy divorce if you don't want the normal route; it'd be a lot of fun!" Blaise suddenly switched gears, dropping Theo in an instant and going back to his main goal now that he'd been outed.
That was the moment Harry actually decided he had enough of Slytherin for today. He still hadn't eaten and it really didn't look like he was about to get to eat considering this nonsense.
Because yeah, he actually fully believed that he was 'friends' enough with Blaise at this point that he would give him divorce as an option to being murdered for his money. Why he believed him, he didn't know.
"I think I need to go back to Gryffindor before my brain implodes." He announced all at once. It had been a long morning and breakfast wasn't even over.
Daphne seemed very amused at his expression if not also weary at the Zabini's antics. "This better be about your crush and nothing more you asshole, hear me?"
"Yeah, yeah, what do I care about your nonsense. If I keep my mouth shut maybe he'll deal with me next?" He purred in Harry's direction, and he made a dramatic show of shuddering. "Aw come oooon! But if you were going to marry someone it'd be me right?"
Harry hated that he was maybe, slightly, a tiny bit tempted— just for curiosity's sake!
It was just that he couldn't help but imagine for half a second what marrying Blaise would be like, if he could think of a way to kill him first before he got offed himself, or what utter madness they'd cook up in the dramatic performance Blaise would undoubtedly invent to 'divorce him' and how he could probably go toe-to-toe with him and tell everyone a bunch of lies about why they were breaking up—
--which was pretty solid proof that he was actually losing his mind right now.
This is why he was so confident he was right to be in Gryffindor—clearly too much of snake business and he started to lose it.
He needed to leave before Blaise actually made him crazier than he already was.
He stood up before they could stop him. Not that they would, Draco almost seeming supportive of this decision despite the fact it cut their time together short.
"How about a hell no? If I'm gonna marry anyone they need to be both Slytherin and Gryffindor friends-approved and you've already failed epically on that front."
"But the little lions have been warming up to me!" He whined, not that heartbroken over the rejection clearly but pretending to be disappointed to annoy them all.
He just grinned wickedly as he climbed over the bench to get free of the table, pointing at the group he was leaving in general.
"That may be but I was talking about that fact you don't have Slytherin's approval. Draco? Daphne? Theo?"
"No." Came the resounding agreement from all three of them, much to Blaise's dismayed
"There you have it," he shrugged as he went off, laughing at Blaise's hissing unpleasantly at them for the betrayal.
With his back turned he didn't see Theo give Draco a pointed look, nor the way the blond cursed darkly into his food at the prospect of befriending a bunch of lions in his future.
He got to the Gryffindor table and plopped down between his roommates, causing whatever they were talking about to freeze since it was clearly unusual for him to abandon tables mid-meal. Also one look at his face and they realized something was up.
"Something wrong?" Seamus noted. "Have you even eaten anything yet!? There's like twenty minutes left of breakfast!"
"I was just considering marrying Blaise for a second which is how I know I'm losing it. Needed a break from the snake crazy." He admitted.
Dean choked on his bacon violently, half coughing but also half losing it laughing, while Seamus just seemed baffled and highly suspicious.
"Er… alright then?"
Neville gave him an incredulous eyebrow that he could only shrug back for.
"He's really charming when he wants something." He confessed with a bit too much shame. "Don't for a second ever forget he's bat-shit crazy though." He warned them a bit too seriously and Dean just snickered helplessly.
"And you always speak in defense of the Slytherins—he must be really bad then."
"Depends on the mood he's in I guess." He scoffed, before getting down to real business. Just because Blaise had been fucking around didn't mean it wasn't news everyone now needed to know ASAP, and rumor mill being blocked purposefully or not it wouldn't stop him from doing his best to spread his theory. "I did have an ulterior motive for coming back so soon though: Draco figured something out just now that may be important, about this monster attacking people."
Their playful mood dropped immediately, all of them now paying attention properly.
"Wait really!? What happened?"
"Remember I told you about the voice I heard? I was describing it again and Draco realized a hissing sound that only I could hear… means it's probably a snake of some sort."
They blinked, Neville's eyes going wide.
"…ooooh," Seamus leaned back, seeming to voice the collective realization—and horror—on their faces.
Dean coughed a bit into his hand. "That's… not good."
"Nope." Harry confirmed grimly.
"Is you talking it down an option?"
"Probably not… what I've heard it say thus far is even more deranged than Blaise, and incredibly murderous too."
"Right…"
They looked at each other, clearly alarmed but also more stumped as they weren't entirely sure what to do about this information. At least having a mental image of mystery monster was comforting, versus it being something crazy and unknown.
"It makes a ton of sense though: Slytherin's monster being a snake? Kind of annoyed I didn't think of that earlier," Seamus allowed, rubbing his nose.
"I think it was just easier to believe Lockhart was doing something accidentally—somehow that still feels right despite it probably not being too likely. I mean at this point I'm sure even Snape has done a check on him just to be safe, since none of the teachers even like him." Harry shrugged.
"If it's enough of an animal for you to understand it, not a monster… do we want to talk to Hagrid? Just to be safe?" Neville brought up quietly, and Harry winced. He really didn't like just how reasonable that jump in logic was, because he'd already completely dismissed Hagrid as being involved months ago. Unpacking that now seemed… terrible.
"Hagrid?" Dean repeated, eyebrows going up in incredulity.
Harry pinched the bridge of nose, answering Neville first. "We probably should, shouldn't we? I still have full faith he's not involved but… we need to eliminate the possibility."
"He would've been a student when this happened the first time anyway, so maybe he'll know something." He offered just as quietly, also seeming unhappy about it but unable to shake the obvious connection here.
"Right,"
"Excuse me, what about Hagrid?" Seamus waved at him, but Harry couldn't get into it now.
"I'll explain later—maybe as soon as the match is done we'll catch him before he gets back to his cabin. Maybe grab Luna on the way," He glanced at Neville who nodded.
"I mean sure, what the hell, if it gives us a lead." Dean frowned. "Did the snake table themselves not have any clues on what kind of snake it'd be?"
"Again, the only person who seemed to know what was going on was Blaise and he makes as much sense as Peeves sometimes. We just had this breakthrough so give it until the end of the day even and I'm sure someone will have an idea I can weasel out of them."
He could tell they wanted to keep asking but Neville pointedly put a fork in his hand and he remembered he was about to play a violent game in, oh, forty minutes or so and hadn't eaten anything yet. He took the silent cue to dig in while the rest of the Gryffindor boys started wondering if they could use Biscuit somehow to catch a glimpse of this thing, which wasn't the worst idea honestly.
It was just, they never really got a chance to put those plans into action.
000
"Who is it!?"
Harry ran to McGonagall as she lowered her wand from her announcement, the entire quidditch pitch in an uproar over the canceled game. That fact it was the Transfiguration professor herself to make the call meant it was serious, since there probably wasn't a bigger fan of the game at Hogwarts currently. The lack of Dumbledore anywhere implied it was serious enough for him to need to deal with it personally, although Harry would sooner flip a coin than count on that useless Headmaster to be taking care of anything.
"Professor you can't do this!"
"Shut up Wood, someone's been petrified! Have some sympathy!" Katie yelled at him as the girls prevented their captain from interfering with Harry's plea to his favorite teacher.
McGonagall offered him a small sympathetic look, but seemed more aware she was still before the entire school and needed to retain her propriety.
"Mr. Potter, please return to the dorm with your classmates. Proper instruction will follow shortly." She repeated her announcement but he refused to just let it go.
"If they're not in Gryffindor I won't know for hours though, will I!? Please professor," He begged, nearly holding onto her robes and she caught his hands to gently turn him around and usher him back to where the Gryffindor team was converging once more. The twins accepted him with grim looks, cluing in immediately that they might need to drag him back.
McGonagall was at least aware that causing this kind of scene in front of the entire student body would be less than helpful—and was also aware that her not-so-secret favorite student could cause quite the scene when he wanted to.
"There were two. An Ravenclaw and a Slytherin—but please let us inform their families first Mr. Potter, before you fly off the handle," She spoke quickly and quietly to him, before turning as if she had not just done that and beginning the process of corralling the incoming flood of students entering the pitch to walk in an organized manner back to the castle.
Harry felt cold, even as the twins had him by the arms and forced him to move with the rest of the team, back to the locker rooms briefly to grab their stuff.
A Ravenclaw and a Slytherin… it could be any number of eagles since a third of them didn't bother coming to games if their team wasn't playing, but a Slytherin? House unity was extremely important and everyone usually showed for visibility reasons, since last Harry was aware the quidditch team was still the strongest alliance in-house and they were always present to scope out the competition.
He knew for a fact Draco was here in the stands somewhere, because he'd never miss a quidditch game. That was a relief at least.
But as he was lead away he couldn't help looking up at the stands where the Slytherins sat and wonder if he couldn't figure out who was missing from just a glance. At this distance though, the only reason he could even vaguely make out who was who, was tribute to Osmias' actually very impressive contacts that enhanced his vision if he concentrated properly.
It was just a mass of black, silver, and green though, with faces sprinkled here and there, and he resigned himself to some painful hours of needing to sit and wait… and worry once more about what this monster could possibly be.
000
Blaise figured it out immediately.
Harry had looked up in their direction after speaking to McGonagall—clearly he would be able to get the information from her quickest so he hadn't left his seat immediately, wanting to see what the most interesting lion could gather. The entire house around him was sort of doing the same thing, standing to follow orders but moving cautiously to see if there was anything else they could pick up.
When the vibrant red-head, hair visible clear as day even from this distance, immediately whipped around to look at them…
Blaise had already done a headcount of who was here and who was not, purely to hold it over their head for breaking house unity. Four fifth years were studying for OWLs, one seventh year was writing lines until Snape said so, and one first year had the sniffles and had gone back to bed after breakfast and a recovery potion from Madam Pomfrey.
And one snake had sworn he'd catch up later, he just wanted to check something in the library after breakfast. That he'd never actually made it and was in fact still missing combined with Harry's dramatic look just now, was all the evidence he needed.
And Blaise couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Because Merlin that was funny—what were the chances of that!? Imagining the look on the stupid school board's face when they realized this monster truly didn't care about blood purity or Slytherins at all was enough to bring a smile to his face for real this time.
It's just so amusing that people stupidly think they can understand monsters, isn't it?
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Pansy snapped from the seats behind him, more for the sudden, loud disturbance than finding the petrification funny.
Blaise looked to his left but Draco had already vanished. Damn, he couldn't even rub this in.
"It's a pureblood. So much for it being Slytherin's monster—or maybe it's just not well trained!" He mocked gleefully, and he could tell no one was happy about him announcing information, for free, for everyone within earshot to hear. It was because he knew it would sew chaos and therefore it did no good to sit on it for long, and they all knew that was the only reason he ever spoke so openly.
He could also tell who else had done their own headcounts and the minute they realized who was missing.
Daphne shoved past him with a dark expression, using the opportunity to shoulder check him violently. He was unfortunately not that coordinated enough to dodge, much less catch his balance without grabbing the rail in front of him, but it didn't stop him finding this mercilessly funny so his grin didn't even waver—he just laughed again at her pitiful attempt to bring him down. Nothing would damper his mood today, not after this!
Tracy gave him a wide berth as she followed her friend pointedly, giving him a filthy look as she passed.
"Well, at least we know it's not Potter now… there's no way he'd eat one of his own friends," She offered to Daphne's back, but no one really acknowledged it—too wrapped up in what this could mean to do more but follow the crowd back to the castle in silence.
And trying very hard to ignore the Zabini's senseless giggling.
000
"Mr. Malfoy. I believe there may be a conflict of interest with you being here."
"Why? He's never claimed to be a friend." Draco didn't blink, and thankfully the Madam and he had a decent exchange at this point that things like how polite or blunt they were mattered less to how honest the words being spoken.
It also said something that she was standing in the middle of the hospital wing, as if expecting his arrival, and seemed entirely unsurprised to see him despite her comment. She's made the comment but clearly she was only making it known, not implying anything else.
It was something he greatly appreciated about her, since he had more than enough of double-meanings and triple-speak in his own house on the daily.
"They're going to be taken to St. Mungo's shortly, right?" He asked, getting down to business.
She didn't bother pressing the issue, nodding once and accepting his arrival by leading the way to the pointedly curtained off beds at the end of the room. "I've already contacted them and a team will be here within the hour to transport them for treatment."
"What's the treatment beyond the elixir?" He wondered aloud, but already kind of knew the answer by the blank set of her lips.
"Preventing damage, essentially. Petrification turns the body to stone, so they are more or less functionally dead for the time being. The true treatment comes from curing them with the elixir, which will also involve a full assessment of all bodily functions to ensure everything is operating correctly. Since the cause of this petrification is unknown, it is also unknown how sturdy the stone-like structure they've been turned to is, and if rough handling will not cause invisible cracks that could penetrate entire limbs or the torso. Snapping off a bit of hair is one thing, but if there is a hairline crack through the thigh or torso we didn't know about before curing them, it could get troublesome."
Troublesome, as if that mental picture wasn't horrifically graphic. Still, Draco had gotten over the queasiness from blood a while ago. It was just something that helped the body function, sometimes it was inisde the body (normal) and sometimes it was outside (less preferrable), but now knowing what was fixable and what was more difficult to fix took a lot of the mysterious horror out of it.
"And St. Mungo's is safer than Hogwarts?" he frowned.
"Debatably. An argument could be made they'd be fine resting here as well as they would in hospital, and the transport is an unnecessarily risky step. In fact the Headmaster did argue just that, but ultimately I decided to send them off. For one, the cause of the petrification is still unknown and could perhaps not be through with them." She paused before the curtain, giving him a pointed look. "For another… there was no need to force the sight of something like this onto their classmates. It can be quite distressing."
He knew what she was implying, but just lifted his chin. "This is curable, isn't it?"
"Indeed."
"Then I'm not going to be upset by something that isn't even permanent." He brushed it off, and she looked him over with an unreadable expression for a long moment.
In the end, she got over whatever it was, primly returning to business as she stepped through the curtain and let him follow.
"Very well then. I had hoped not to have another example of this to show you, but while they are here I can demonstrate how this petrification is unlike any other cases I've encountered before. I can count on one hand the amount of times in my career I've encountered brand new magic without previous documented medical journals to support treatment, so pay close attention to the diagnosing process. There is always a reasonable answer and treatment, however rare those answers might be, but unique cases are not unheard of if you eliminate every other factor." She lectured, as if this were any other lesson she were rattling off for him while he took notes at her desk.
Now he wasn't exactly writing down potion uses or diagraming the skeleton, he had his own healer's journal that he cracked open and began taking notes as she spoke. If she raised a brow at how he'd clearly taken the initiative to copy her practice, she at least didn't call him on it.
He wasn't about to mention that his first test subject had been himself, however she was fully aware he'd had at least one official patient already, so her being able to double check his work while he went off and attempted to do things on his own was probably a good safety precaution.
Not that it mattered, since he only had one patient in this first healer's journal of his, and all the pain reduction potions and healing salves for bruises and small cuts he'd diagnosed and given meant nothing at this point, given that patient was, according to the Madam's words, essentially dead.
He tried to write down her process for diagnosing this unique form of petrification the best he could understand it while not really having a background in other forms of petrification just yet, but he also followed the standard procedure of writing down everything else that might help form a diagnosis.
The most glaring thing, though he had no idea how it was related… was that he had never seen Nott wear glasses before.
But as his blue eyes stared up at the ceiling, frozen in time and temporary death, he was certainly wearing them now.