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2023-01-14
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Harry Potter and the Chamber of Snake

Chapter 9: 9

Notes:

interlude-y chapter today! hope you enjoy

Chapter Text

Severus

“I just can’t put my finger on it!” An irate Lucius Malfoy complains, pacing around the drawing room.

Severus rolls his eyes, sipping at his tea. Lucius Malfoy is a man that can occasionally be entertaining, but is mostly just tiring. Unfortunately, he’s under the assumption that Lucius and Severus are friends; which is why Severus is currently sitting through tea with him.

Severus would have disabused the man of the notion, but Albus believes it would be for the best if Severus keeps in contact with the old crowd.

“Honestly, Lucius. The boy looks familiar because we went to school with his parents. That’s all there is to it,” Severus says tiredly. This is getting old.

Lucius shakes his head. “No. I know what I saw. It’s true that the boy has that mu-” he stops himself, wincing at Severus’s raised eyebrow, before continuing, “his mother’s eyes. But that’s not the face of James Potter.”

“Children are usually a mix between their parents. Just because Draco is the very picture of his father” (Severus thinks Draco undoubtedly takes after his mother) “doesn’t mean other children will be the same.”

“The boy has brown hair!”

“Yes. A common byproduct of having one red haired parent and one black haired parent. Besides, you only caught a glimpse of the boy. I have him in my classroom twice a week. Believe me when I say he is the son of James Potter.”

Also, Severus knows for a fact that his friend would’ve died before being unfaithful to that idiot. Lily just wasn’t the type to cheat on anyone.

Lucius angrily downs another glass of bourbon. His usually perfectly coiffed hair is coming loose, and he has dark purple shadows under his eyes. Severus thinks this is the most unhinged he’s seen the man in a very long time- the ministry raids seem to be taking their toll. Severus is trying to muster up some sympathy, but mostly he’s just amused.

Lucius grumbles for a moment, and Severus takes the opportunity to finish off the rest of his tea. Just a few more minutes and he can make his excuses and then leave.

Suddenly, Lucius whirls around, clasping his hands in front of an unimpressed Narcissa Malfoy. “Please,” he begs. “Please just tell me!”

Narcissa sniffs imperiously. “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to use your eyes.” She gracefully stands up from her seat, brushing off her skirts. “Now, if you two will excuse me I have a lunch date to keep with Mr. Lupin.”

Severus chokes on his tea.

“Remus Lupin?” He finally gets out, glancing at Lucius to see his reaction.

The man doesn’t look at all surprised, only resigned.

“Of course,” Narcissa says matter-of-factly. “We might not like it, but Mr. Lupin has a lot of political power right now. It’s simply prudent to stay in his good graces.

“Besides,” she adds, “you must know he’s the Black Family regent. I may not be a Black in name any longer, but it is my blood, and Draco’s. If we want to maintain any sort of sway within the family, it’ll pay to play nice.”

Severus nods hesitantly, and Narcissa says, “indeed. Well, it was nice to see you, Severus. You simply must visit again soon.” With that, she glides out of the room.

Severus had never thought this day would come, but here he is now; feeling sorry for the werewolf. Hopefully Lupin is more politically savvy than he looks, because otherwise he is going to be eaten alive by one Narcissa Malfoy.

Hermione

Hermione groans loudly (but not too loudly) and kicks the blanket off of her legs.

She’s been trying to sleep for hours now, but her mind just won’t let her rest. Resigned, she slips out of bed. Hermione blindly reaches for her slippers, sliding them onto her feet before shuffling out of the dorm, down the stairs, and out the common room.

Hermione doesn’t just love sneaking around, but she’s two books and a lunar calendar away from figuring out whether or not a simplified wolfsbane-making process is feasible and she can picture exactly where in the Library those things are.

Hermione moves from shadowy corridor to shadowy corridor, trying to ignore the thunderous sound of her own heart beating in her ears. This is exactly the sort of adrenaline rush she doesn’t need or want, but needs must. She has one near miss with bumping into a tired-looking Professor Sprout, but manages to crouch behind a suit of armor just in time and avoids detection.

The halls of Hogwarts feel so much bigger at night, and Hermione shivers as a cold September breeze makes its way down the hall. The moon isn’t full, but it is big and bright, and provides ample light shining through the windows for Hermione to navigate by.

The Library doors are only about twenty meters away when Hermione hears the sound of shuffling feet and loud cursing, and turns to see the light of a lantern getting closer and closer. She freezes, looking wildly around her. There’s nowhere to hide, and she has no hope at all of making it to the Library in time. Hermione lets out a shaky breath and closes her eyes, braced for Filch’s arrival.

Instead, she gives out a muffled yelp as a hand covers her mouth and pulls her into a secret alcove.

Hermione is pressed up between the wall and the other person as the wall swings back silently into place. It’s pitch-black so Hermione can’t see who she’s stuck in here with, but that’s nowhere near her main concern at the moment. The two breathe quietly into the darkness as they hear Filch walk directly past them. Hermione lets out a sigh of relief as she hears Filch’s muttering fade into silence.

Belatedly, Hermione realizes the hand is still over her mouth. All at once, the alcove becomes overwhelmingly claustrophobic and she starts pushing at the other person in an attempt to get free. Hermione bumps up against a protruding stone and the wall swings back open, sending the two tumbling out into the blessedly empty corridor.

“Oof,” Hermione says, landing on top of her rescuer. She blinks, eyes adjusting to the moonlight, at the furious face of Pansy Parkinson. “Oh,” is all she says.

“Get off, you oaf!” Parkinson hisses, swatting at Hermione’s face.

“Sorry,” Hermione says stupidly, rolling off of the other girl and standing up awkwardly.

She holds a hand out to the girl; who ignores it as she clambers to her feet, red-faced.

“Uh,” Hermione says.

She isn’t used to feeling so wrong-footed, but Hermione really doesn’t know what to make of what just happened.

“Why…” Hermione starts, trailing off. Why what? Why is Parkinson wandering around at night? Why was she in that alcove? Why did she save Hermione? Hermione doesn’t know where to start.

Parkinson huffs, and starts to stalk off. On an impulse, Hermione’s hand shoots out and clasps the girl’s wrist.

“Wait!” Hermione says desperately.

Parkinson is staring down at Hermione’s hand like she simply cannot comprehend what has just happened.

“Why did you save me?” Hermione figures that’s as good a place as any to start.

Parkinson’s face flushes even darker than before, and she wrenches her hand free of Hermione’s grip only to flick her short black bobbed hair back.

“I just didn’t want to risk Filch catching me, too,” the girl says snottily. “The longer he stood there lecturing you, the longer I had to stay cooped up in that… that closet.”

Hermione laughs. “Yeah, right,” she says. Parkinson’s mouth opens a little in shock. “You know as well as I do that Filch would have wasted no time at all dragging me off to McGonagall.”

Parkinson scowls deeply. “Fine then. I wanted you to owe me one.”

“I don’t think that's it, either,” Hermione says, shaking her head. “Otherwise you’d be gloating right now. I think,” she continues, ignoring the girl’s increasingly stormy expression, “you accidentally did something nice for a muggleborn and now you’re trying to backtrack.”

Parkinson’s face flickers with cold fury, before going back to a more typical scowl. Wordlessly, she grabs Hermione and bodily drags her into the nearest abandoned classroom. Hermione goes along with her, bemused.

Parkinson shoves Hermione into a dusty chair before locking the door and performing a complicated looking spell. It looks like an advanced privacy charm. Hermione watches, impressed. Then, Parkinson rounds on Hermione, eyes hard.

“What do you want,” she says flatly. Hermione grins.

“That desperate to keep people from knowing that deep down you’re a good person?”

“That’s conjecture at best, slander at worst,” Parkinson says, pointing angrily. Hermione gives her an unimpressed stare and she deflates. “Look. I have a reputation to maintain.”

Hermione hums in satisfaction.

“I’m not admitting anything,” Parkinson hisses, up in arms again. “I’m a cold-hearted, calculating bitch. I had a… momentary lapse of sanity.”

“I see,” Hermione says. Parkinson huffs. “Alright, I won’t tell anyone,” Hermione decides.

“What?” Parkinson says, taken aback. “Wait, just like that?”

“Pretty much,” Hermione says, shrugging. Parkinson narrows her eyes. “It’s nothing, really. Just, I’d like to talk.”

“Talk.” Parkinson says.

“Sure,” Hermione says. “We never have before. Why not?”

Parkinson looks pained, but nods. She pulls up another chair and sits. “Fine. Let's ‘talk’.”

Hermione smirks.

Ginny

Between classes, making new friends, and writing in her diary, Ginny is amazed at just how fast the first week of school flies by.

It’s getting to her a little bit, but it’s nothing she can’t handle. Besides, one of her new roommates let her borrow some foundation to cover up the bags under Ginny’s eyes.

Ginny loves Hogwarts, but the school is so big. She feels like she gets lost all the time- she’ll blink and suddenly find herself on a completely random floor, or outside some bathroom or other.

When she tells Tom this, he promises her that even though it’s hard at first, she’ll get the layout down in no time at all.

Besides, I know Hogwarts better than anyone. If you ever get really lost, just write to me and I can help you find your way again.

Thanks, Tom. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Of course, Ginny. I’m just glad to be of assistance.

Ginny thinks Luna is having a harder time adjusting. The girl has always been a little off, but she’s becoming more and more withdrawn with every passing day.

“Luna, are you alright?” Ginny asks one day, seeing the little blonde girl sitting in a window sill. She looks very small.

“Oh, yes. Hogwarts is a lot more magical than I’d ever dreamed,” Luna says in a faraway voice.

“But…” Ginny prompts.

“It’s also more… crowded than I’d anticipated,” Luna whispers. “I expect I’ll get used to it, but in the meanwhile the nargles are taking the opportunity to get up to mischief.”

Ginny doesn’t really know what to say, so she just nods. Luna turns her big blue-eyed gaze on Ginny. Ginny holds her breath, feeling vulnerable under Luna’s consideration.

“Oh,” Luna breathes. “You’ve been dealing with nargles too. Or, maybe wrackspurts?”

Ginny laughs, uncomfortable. “I think we all have, Luna. School can be a big adjustment.”

Luna hums and turns away from Ginny, and Ginny knows the conversation is over.

“Ginny! Ginny!” Colin Creevey calls, waving a paper in front of Ginny’s face.

Ginny blinks a couple times. Hadn’t she just been in the hall? With… with Luna? Ginny shakes her head, tuning into whatever it is Colin has to say.

“Look what I just did!” Colin gasps excitedly.

“Colin, I can’t see it if you keep waving it around,” Ginny laughs. “Give it here.”

Colin sheepishly hands her the paper, and Ginny gasps as she sees what it is the boy has done. The paper is actually a moving picture, featuring none-other than Harry Potter. He looks distinctly uncomfortable next to a winking Lockhart, blinking wildly and shrinking into himself.

“He’s so modest,” Ginny says in awe. Colin snatches the photo back and grins.

“I know! I only talked to him for a little bit, but I can already tell that he’s everything the stories say he is and more!” Colin gushes.

Ginny nods excitedly. “Did I tell you I had a whole conversation with him?”

“Yeah!” Colin says, stars in his eyes. “Tell me again, though!”

Ginny launches into the story, then blinks. This bathroom, again? Ginny pulls the diary out of her bag.

Tom?

Is everything alright, Ginny?

Yeah. It’s just… I think I’m lost, again.

Okay. Don’t worry. Where are you?

That same bathroom. The out-of-order one.

Ah, I see. Interesting. Well, you know what they say: all roads lead to… out-of-order second-floor bathrooms.

Tom, I don’t think people say that.

I’m pretty sure they do.

Are you going to help me or not?

Of course I will, Ginny. I’m only teasing.

I know, Tom. Don’t worry. :)

Okay. Here’s where you’re going to go…