Chapter Text
"Why are you all doing homework on a Saturday?"
Harry looked up to see Tracey leaning her head over the couch into their group as they did the History homework. Daphne and Millicent hovered behind her.
"As if Binns will even notice! Come on, I'm going to explore the grounds, you should all come too."
Even Theo—who had been the only one not bored completely to tears by Binns—only hesitated for a moment before nodding and packing away his writing materials.
"Wait for me a second," Harry told him. "I'm going to go get Hiss, he's not seen the grounds yet either."
Outside, they headed towards the Quidditch pitch first. It was still empty, given that none of the teams had held tryouts yet. Harry looked around the oval pitch with its towering, painted stands and tried to imagine the roar of the crowd and the whizzing of the players during a game. From what Draco had said, it didn't sound much like a football match.
"I can't wait to bring my own broom to school," Draco said as he gazed around.
"We know", Theo groaned. "Can we go explore somewhere else?"
They followed the shore of the lake around, occasionally passing little groups of students from other houses. Hiss had draped himself around Harry's neck, to smell everything they passed. Eventually they reached the ramshackle workshops and the boathouse, from where they skirted past the greenhouses back out into open space. By now they were spread out into twos and threes, Theo and Blaise leading the way. Tracey, who was walking near Harry at the back, leaned over to whisper to him.
"Watch this." She drew her wand and placed the tip in her palm, muttering a spell. "I used to have to get Mum to do this bit," she said as a bright yellow glow briefly enveloped her hand.
Then she darted towards Draco and tagged him, the bright glow spilling down her arm to pool in his. Draco looked stupidly down at his hand for a second before lunging at Theo, who dodged and ran away. Millicent tackled him around the waist as he passed, holding him down while Draco triumphantly smeared his hand down Theo's face.
"You'd best run," Daphne warned Harry as she jogged past, high ponytail swishing behind her. "If you're still the Erumpent after thirty seconds the spell explodes, and the colour doesn't wear off for about twelve hours without the counter spell."
"I do not want to play this game," Hiss said in his ear, as a burst of yellow splattered all over Theo's front. The Runespoor slithered down to curl in his pocket instead, muttering about humans' obsession with running everywhere just because they had legs.
Harry returned to the dormitory afterwards worn out as much from laughing as from running, with knees and elbows covered in mud and grass where Theo and Blaise had sat on him. He'd have to clean them—and persuade someone to do the counter spell for the patches of yellow, pink, green and orange splattered all over his robes and skin. But for now he just flopped on his bed and grinned. Maybe not everything about being in Slytherin would be difficult.
It was blustery on Sunday as Harry walked down to the edge of the forest to Hagrid's hut, and the smoke curling up from the chimney was quickly whipped away by the wind. Harry hadn't invited any of his dorm-mates, and now he was inside he was glad he hadn't; he could only imagine Draco's comments about the cramped, rustic interior with its bewildering assortment of knick-knacks and creature parts hanging from the walls and ceiling. Harry thought it was amazing. He sat down at the rough-hewn table, and Hagrid pressed a mug of hot tea and a rock bun into his hands. Fang shoved his gigantic head onto Harry's lap, thumping his tail on the floor.
"It's good to see yeh, Harry. How was your first week?"
Harry scratched Fang between the ears, and told Hagrid about everything he'd learned so far between sips of tea. Hagrid nodded along, smiling.
You thinking of joinin' any clubs? I was in Gobstones club, when I was a nipper. Good fun."
"I've not signed up for anything yet," Harry said. "Draco says he's waiting to try out for Quidditch next year, that sounds good."
"I'm sure you'd be a natural! Your dad played for Gryffindor, you know, he was a brilliant Seeker."
The mention of Gryffindor reminded Harry of something that had been nagging at him since seeing Hagrid's reaction in the Great Hall.
"Hagrid, are you mad that I got sorted into Slytherin?"
"'Course I'm not mad at yeh," Hagrid replied, plastering an awkward smile over his wince.
"Neville seems to be, he hasn't spoken to me since we got here. Everyone makes it sound like being a Slytherin means you're a bad person or something."
"Nonsense. The Sorting Hat must've had a good reason to put yeh there. An' it's not like every Slytherin's gone bad. I'm sure ... some ... of 'em are lovely people." Hagrid's grin was starting to look a bit strained. "How're you finding it?"
Harry picked at his rock bun, thinking of Rosier and his gang. "I dunno, it's alright I guess. Some of the older years have been a bit... unwelcoming, but the other boys in my dorm are ok."
"Is that right?"
"Well, Malfoy's a bit annoying. Er. The common room's nice! You can see the giant squid swim past sometimes. And the beds are really comfy. Much better than the camp bed in the cupboard. Anything would be better than the Dursleys, really." He gave the rock bun an experimental nibble, and discreetly put it down on the table. It made a solid-sounding thunk.
"I'm sure they'll all warm up when they get t' know yeh. But if anyone gives you trouble, you just let me know. And you're always welcome here."
"Thanks, Hagrid."
Hagrid glanced at the clock on the cluttered mantlepiece. "You'd best be runnin' along. Don't want to miss lunch."
As Harry was about to step through the door, he remembered the other thing he'd meant to mention.
"Oh, I nearly forgot. There was a break-in at Gringotts the day we were there, but the vault was already empty. You don't think it could be the one we went to, could it?"
Hagrid flushed a deep red. "Whatever might—or might not—have been in that vault, it'd be none o' your business, understand? That's private, and Professor Dumbledore'd be mad if I told you." Then he flushed even redder and shut his mouth. Harry pulled the door shut behind him.
He mulled over Hagrid's accidental confession on the walk back to Slytherin, but once he got inside he was almost instantly distracted by Draco and Millicent, who appeared to be about ten seconds away from hexing each other. Theo waved Harry over.
"Come play a game of something with me," he pleaded. "They've been arguing about Puddlemere's lineup this season for the past hour, and I think my brain might actually leak out of my ears if I have to listen to them any longer."
The second week of term rolled on towards Thursday, and the thing everyone had been most looking forward to: flying lessons with the Gryffindors. They trooped out into the grounds in high spirits that even Draco's incessant bragging couldn't dent. Things started out well enough; Harry's broom responded to his call the very first time, and Madam Hooch had to correct Draco's grip, which he would never be hearing the last of back in the common room. But then Neville startled and fell, crumpling to the ground in a terrifying heap.
The other Slytherins laughed, and Harry’s ears burned to be associated with them, sliding his eyes away from Neville. Madam Hooch glared at them, and they fell silent. Then she examined Neville's wrist, hissing between her teeth.
"Best see Madam Pomfrey to get that fixed, she'll do a better job of it than I can. Patil, take him up to the infirmary, would you?"
Parvati, who'd had the misfortune of standing next to Neville, threw him a dirty look. Harry sympathised; he wouldn't want to miss this lesson either. As the two of them made their way back to the castle, Madam Hooch strode back in between the two rows.
"Everyone on the left, on my whistle please take off and rise to a height of six feet and then gently descend."
She blew, and around Harry other students veered unsteadily into the air. Next to him, Draco shot up like a rocket, and Harry looked up in alarm, thinking he'd done the same as Neville. But Draco was hovering about ten feet up, grinning down at him.
"Well then, you coming up or not?"
Harry kicked off. Any residual nervousness he'd had disappeared instantly; flying was easy. He could stay in the air like this forever, with the wind in his hair and the broom solid under him. As he reached Draco, the other boy tipped back into a steep climb. Harry pursued. Madam Hooch's whistle called after them, shrill through the air.
They levelled out finally at a dizzying height. Harry hovered, looking over the grounds from up high as the sunlight sparkled on the lake.
"Pretty good, right?" Draco asked him. Then his smile turned sly, and he pulled something from his pocket. It was a round glass ball of some kind.
"Longbottom dropped this. Shall we leave it somewhere for him?"
"No! Neville didn't do anything to you, we should just give it back."
"He offends me constantly with his mediocrity. But fine, I'll let it go." Without breaking eye contact he opened his hand, letting the ball plummet towards the ground far below. "Oops."
Harry leaned forward into a steep dive, almost in freefall, chasing after the ball as it dropped. The wind battered at his face, making his eyes water. He could almost reach; he grabbed his broom tighter with his legs and leaned further forward. His fingertips brushed against the ball; one final lunge and his hand clasped around it.
He drew the arm in and heaved his weight backwards, bringing the broom forcefully back level. It cut his speed drastically but it wasn't enough, and as he neared the grass he rolled into it, taking the collision on his shoulder and ending up sprawled on his back. He closed his eyes in relief and clutched the ball to his chest, breathing in and out the heady scent of crushed grass until the hammering in his chest had subsided a little.
A shadow passed over his face, and he opened his eyes to see Madam Hooch looming over him, fury across her features. Behind her, Draco's eyes were wide in his face. Madam Hooch took a deep breath, huffing in annoyance. Harry gulped.
"There's always one! Or in this case, two. Both of you can go report to Professor Snape for detention, immediately! I will know if you don't, and you'll be serving detentions every night for the rest of term. In the meantime, we've lost enough of the lesson to nonsense already. Everyone else, line up again!"
"I'd say I was disappointed," Snape said directly to Harry, when they arrived and explained why they were there. "But that would imply I had any hope of you behaving yourself."
"Malfoy started it!" Harry objected, not sure why he was being singled out.
Snape rolled his eyes heavenwards. "If Mr. Malfoy had leapt from a cliff, would you have followed suit?"
"No, but -"
"Mr Malfoy disregarded a teacher's instructions and put himself at risk. You flew a broomstick at high speed directly towards a group of people. You are lucky you did not break your neck. You are lucky you did not break your friends' necks. I ought to ask the Headmaster to expel you for such irresponsible behaviour."
"But—"
"However."
Harry shut up.
"However. That was a difficult manoeuvre, and to have performed it your first time on a broomstick suggests a certain amount of innate talent."
Draco—who had so far been watching the back-and-forth like it was a tennis match—looked like he wanted to say something. Snape, who was still laser focused on Harry, didn't seem to notice, and Draco shut his mouth again. Harry—certain that either agreeing or disagreeing with Snape's assessment would both just lead to some kind of conversational trap—also kept quiet.
"As you know," Snape continued after a moment, "Terence Higgs will be graduating this year. Slytherin will thus be in need of a new Seeker. If you order yourself a broomstick, and behave in accordance with the school rules and the expectations of this House, I will sign a permission slip for you to have it at school so you may practice."
"That's not fair!" Draco whined. "None of the rest of us are allowed to bring our own broom to school. You're giving him an advantage!"
Snape pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. "I will also sign a permission slip for you, Mr Malfoy, with the same caveats on your behaviour."
Draco looked smug, and the corner of Snape's mouth lifted ever so slightly into a smirk.
"Before you get too excited, may I remind you that you are both here now as punishment. The two of you will be cleaning out the empty newt tanks, by hand."
"When can we order our broomsticks?" Draco persisted.
"When I am satisfied that you have both learned your lesson. With a one-week delay for every additional time you ask me that question. You will find cleaning supplies in the cupboard. I will be back at the end of your allotted time to judge how well you did."
With that, Snape swept out.
Draco flopped down into a chair. "I can't believe he's making us clean things without magic. I'm not a house elf!"
Harry was already rooting through the cupboard for a bucket and cloth.
"What's a house elf?" he asked. He eyed the various mismatched, hand-labelled bottles of cleaning fluids arrayed on the shelf, wondering if any were the same sort of thing Aunt Petunia bought.
"Ugh!" Draco threw his hands up. "It's actually revolting, how little you know about the magical world."
Harry side-eyed him. "Thanks. Got any plans to come help with this cleaning?"
"If I must," Draco sighed.
They didn't speak much for a while, too busy scrubbing and wiping down the disgusting, algae-encrusted tanks. Draco's fine blond hair was sticking to his forehead by the time he sat back to take a deep breath.
"This is the worst. How do Muggles cope?"
"They don't have much choice," Harry said, amused.
"And how are you so good at this? It's like you've got magical cleaning powers or something. Only not magical. Muggle cleaning powers."
"The Dursleys made me help out with the housework a lot," Harry replied absently, squeaking a spot of dirt off the glass with his finger.
Draco was oddly silent, and when Harry looked up he was pulling a strange face.
"They made you help with housework? But you're the Boy Who Lived!"
Harry snorted. "Tell that to my Uncle Vernon. According to him I'm the Boy Who Lived To Be A Pain In His Rear End. My cousin Dudley's the golden boy in that house."
Any response Draco might have had was forestalled by Snape's return. He swept his eyes over the now-sparkling tanks.
"Adequate. You may go. But if I see the two of you here for detention again, I'll make sure there is an even more unpleasant task to do, and neither of you will be getting a broomstick."
As they made their way to dinner, Harry realised that he still had Neville's trinket in his pocket. He excused himself to make a detour up to the hospital wing. Thankfully Neville was still there; Harry had no idea where the Gryffindor common room was and suspected no one would tell him if he asked. Madam Pomfrey waved him in; Neville was sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Hi Neville. You okay?"
"Hi Harry," Neville smiled. "Broken wrist, but Madam Pomfrey fixed it up. She was just about to release me so I can go down to dinner."
"Oh, cool. I'll walk with you then."
As they left the Hospital Wing, Neville spoke up again. " I heard about you standing up to Malfoy. Thanks."
"Don't worry about it, he's a prat. I brought you your ball back." Harry fished it from his pocket.
"Oh, that's great!" Neville took it, turning it over in his hand. "It's a Rememberall, my gran sent it to me. You hold onto it and it glows red if there's something you've forgotten..." he trailed off with a sigh as red smoke swirled inside the glass ball.
Harry grinned. "I'm sure you'll remember whatever it was. Listen, do you want to—do something sometime? I know it's hard to meet up with people in other houses, but I go visit Hagrid at the weekends? He's got some huge pumpkins growing for Halloween."
Neville looked surprised, but smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Alright, see you in the Great Hall after lunch on Sunday?" Harry suggested. "It's best to go to Hagrid's on a full stomach."
By October Harry had managed to levitate small objects, turned a needle into a matchstick under McGonagall's sharp but approving gaze, and could confidently make his way through the maze of corridors and stairs of his new home. Hiss had taken to being smuggled to class like a duck to water, and now regularly demanded to come with Harry. His snout poking out from Harry's collar as he looked at their surroundings became a regular sight.
Strangely, the shared experience of getting filthy cleaning newt tanks together had flipped a switch in Draco. While he was still generally irritating and superior, he was at least warmer to Harry. Blaise and Theo were both clearly pleased at the change, and the atmosphere in Dorm 1B improved significantly. Sitting with his friends in the cosy glow of the fire one evening a few days later, feeling well-fed and comfortable as the conversation ebbed and flowed around him, Harry felt like he belonged somewhere, for the first time in his life.
Not everything had improved, of course: while Rosier was no longer actively targeting Harry, he still glared every time Harry was in the same room as him. Most of the older Slytherins were still generally frosty towards him too. And the attention he received from the rest of the school was still proving hard to get used to. He often turned to see who people were looking at, before realising the focus of their attention was him. Here and there a student would actually stop him on his way to class to ask Harry questions about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry bore this with bewildered acceptance the first few times, until Draco started glaring to scare them off. Which was pretty rude, really, but Harry appreciated it nonetheless.
Halloween dawned crisp and clear, perfect for a morning Herbology lesson. Harry ran into Hagrid on his way back to the castle.
"I've been settin' up the bonfire for after the feast," the groundskeeper said, arms full of pumpkin. "An' layin' out food for the fairies. I wouldn' normally encourage 'em, they're annoyin' little buggers. But tradition's tradition, I 'spose. They'll go back to the Forest again soon enough once they work out there's no more freebies."
By evening, the school was buzzing with anticipation. The great hall had been decorated with black candles floating near the ceiling and the carved pumpkins were grinning in pride of place on the tables. They looked much less creepy than the turnip lanterns that had appeared in the Slytherin common room overnight, which Harry had worried were actual shrunken heads until he got a closer look. The opalescent gleam of the ghosts was visible here and there among the students. Harry made for an empty stretch of bench, relieved that the Bloody Baron was already seated by the sixth years. Next to Rosier, in fact, which made Harry snicker. Tracey greeted him with a cheerful "Nadolig Samhain" as he sat down, and smiled at Harry's botched attempt to repeat the phrase back to her as Draco, Theo and Blaise took the seats around him.
The table was weighed down with seasonal food, and they all dug in with gusto. Harry took slices of roast hog and goose and spoonfuls of vegetables, and drowned it all in steaming hot gravy. Apple crumble, piles of soul cakes and bowls of nuts were nestled amongst the savoury foods. Wizards didn't seem to believe in courses, as far as Harry could tell; they simply put everything out on the table at once. In fairness, there probably wasn't much need to stagger the food when everything could be kept warm via charms.
Harry was pouring a generous measure of thick, creamy custard over his crumble when Professor Quirrel burst through the doors to announce there was a troll in the dungeons, before collapsing in a dead faint as the hall erupted into chaos.
"I know pranks are traditional, but letting an actual troll into the school is a bit much," Blaise said, looking affronted.
Theo was frowning. "I read that the castle has charms to deter the native Beasts from wandering too close. Similar to the Confundus charm for Muggles. Students shouldn't be able to goad a troll inside."
As they were herded out of the hall by the prefects, Draco leaned in towards Harry. "If there's really a troll in the dungeons, isn't it more dangerous to take us back to our common room?"
Harry frowned, coming to a halt. The rest of the group carried on, disappearing down the corridor. "Yeah, that doesn't really make much sense."
There was a sudden scuffling noise behind them, and Harry grabbed Draco, tugging him behind one of the statues. The noise turned out to be Professor Quirrel, now looking perfectly fine. He raced past them to take the stairs two at a time.
"Shouldn't he be going to help deal with the troll?" Draco asked.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the Defence Professor's retreating back. "Let's go see what's so important."
"Harry!" Draco whispered after him. "Come back, you— oh for... wait up!"
They ran up the stairs as quietly as they could, coming to a halt around the corner from the off-limits third floor corridor. Draco put his fingers to his lips, and Harry crept closer to the edge, where they could hear voices.
"Ah, S-s-severus," Quirrel was saying, his voice pitched higher than usual with nerves. "I s-s-see you had the s-s-same idea, to ensure the S-S-Stone's p-p-protection. G-g-good thinking, haha."
"Indeed," came Snape's silky-smooth drawl. "Who knows what sort of unsavoury characters might take advantage of the distraction." Harry peeked around the corner; Snape was looming over Quirrel like a particularly menacing crow. Behind them, the door to the third floor corridor was ajar.
"As you can see," Snape continued, "I have the situation in hand. You may return to your duties as Defence teacher, and go deal with the troll that someone so carelessly released into the school." He was outright glaring at this point, and Quirrel scurried away. Snape watched him go, and then whirled around.
"Who is there?" he barked, wand held ready.
Draco popped out from the corner, and Harry followed, cursing.
"Professor! We were coming to warn you that someone might be trying to steal the Stone," Draco said, smoothly incorporating the bit of knowledge Quirrel had let slip. Snape stared at him, then narrowed his eyes at Harry, who tried to exude innocence. Behind him, Harry could see a sliver of what looked like a gigantic paw through the doorway, and hear a low, rasping sort of noise coming from it. Snape sidestepped to block the view.
"As you can see, your warning was unnecessary. It is not the place of students to instruct their teachers on how to do their jobs, nor to be wandering around the castle unaccompanied while there is a dangerous creature loose within its walls!" he snapped. "What, precisely, did you think two eleven-year-old boys would contribute to the situation?" Draco tried to open his mouth, but Snape silenced him with a poisonous look. "I do not wish to know how you came to be aware of what is hidden beyond this door. You will forget about it. You will not come by this corridor again. You will mention this to no one, am I clear? And you will both serve detentions next Saturday, which you will spend reflecting on your poor choices tonight. Now return to your dormitory, at once."
Draco looked aghast; Harry tugged on his sleeve, and they hurried away.
"Snape's definitely up to something!" Harry said, pacing up and down the dormitory while Blaise and Theo sat in the armchairs around the fireplace, listening intently.
"Don't be an idiot, Potter," Draco said. He was perched on the end of his bed, which was closest to the fire; he stretched his socks out towards it and made a happy face at the warmth.
"Why was he there then? Why did he have the door open?"
Theo leaned in eagerly. "The door was open? Did you get to see inside?"
"Only a bit. I could see a paw. Huge, black fur. Looked like a dog's, maybe? But I didn't think dogs came in sizes that big."
Blaise looked thoughtful. "Could be a Stygian hound? That's the biggest dog-like thing I can think of."
"If it is, it's guarding something," Theo said. "No one has them for anything else, they don't really make good pets."
"And whatever that is, it must be dangerous," Blaise continued. "If it was just valuable, there are a hundred ways you could keep something safe without taking up an entire section of the school. Dumbledore must want to keep a close eye on it."
"I bet it's whatever was taken from Gringotts."
All three turned to look at Harry, who felt along the unspooling thread of thought even as he was saying the words.
"The vault was empty because Hagrid had already taken it earlier. He mentioned it a few weeks ago, when I visited him. He said he was collecting it for the headmaster."
"Hagrid is involved?" Draco asked incredulously. "That oaf?"
"Do you know what it was?" Blaise asked Harry.
"No. It was round, small enough to fit in your palm. It was wrapped in brown paper. It didn't seem like it was that heavy, but Hagrid's pretty strong I guess."
"Quirrel mentioned checking that a 'stone' was still safe," Draco pointed out. "That would fit. I bet he's the one trying to steal it! Why else was he going that way instead of to the dungeons?"
Harry almost laughed. "Quirrel? I don't think he could tie his own shoes, let alone break into Gringotts. It has to be Snape."
"If it was Snape, why didn't he go after it once he'd got rid of Quirrel?"
"Because he knew we were there!"
Blaise looked between them, clearly tired of this argument. "I still can't believe he gave you detention," he needled Draco.
Draco scowled back at him, and the conversation devolved into insult slinging from there.