“Harry!”

“Ooomphf!”

Harry looked up at Niamh and said, “Good mornin’, Ni. Can I ge’ up now?”

“Oh, sorry, Harry.” Niamh scrambled up off of Harry, crouching on the floor beside him. Harry sat up slowly, holding his left arm and wincing.

“Ow.”

“Still hurts?”

“Yeh. Jus’ a little.”

“Hmm. Hey, y’know that idiot’s starting a dueling club?”

“Malfoy?”

“Not that idiot, stupid. The other idiot.”

“Oh! Lock’art.”

“Yeah. That idiot.”

“‘Im? A dueling club?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“We’re gonna die.”

“Yep. But we’ll have fun.”

Harry let himself fall back down onto the floor.

“Oh bloody ‘ell…”

Niamh laughed and pulled him up.

“C’mon, my friend. We have to go sign up.”

“Then wha’?”

“Then…update our immaculate knowledge of hexes and curses and charms. Must keep up our reputation!”

“Ni.”

“What?”

“Stop bein’ so damn cheerful.”

“Then you stop being so bloody angsty.”

“I’m na angsty!”

“Liar.”

“Pish.”

“You’re a horrid liar, y’know that?”

“I am na!”

“There you go again.”

“Shut up, Ni.”

“Hmmm…”

“I’ll curse ye.”

“Oooo, I’m scared. No! I’m terrified! Somebody save meeee!!”

Niamh collapsed on the floor in a dramatic, highly exaggerated faint and lay there. Harry leaned over her, an amused look on his face.

“Very amusin’, Ni. An excellent fall too.”

Niamh opened her eyes and grinned up at him.

“Why thank you, Mr. Potter. Will you be a gentleman and help me up?”

Harry snorted. “I’m a Slytherin, na a gentleman!”

“Oh, but you sooooo look the part. I can just imagine you in a tie… Wait, you are in a tie.”

Harry shook his head then reached down and pulled her up.

“C’mon. We’ve go’ a duelin’ club ter sign up fer.”

“So…you’re going to do it?”

“Ye think I’m gonna le’ you ‘ave all the fun of cursin’ Gryffindors senseless? I think na!”

Niamh grinned and slung her arm about her taller friends shoulders. She cheerfully cried, “There’s the Harry I know! The Lord and Lady Hex are back!”

Harry smirked, “Ye know abou’ those names?”

“Yeah, sure. I think they suit us rather well, don’t you?”

“Yeh. Sure.”

“You don’t sound very positive.”

“I am na a positive person.”

Niamh smiled and said, “Your also not a negative person.”

“Who says?”

“I do.”

“Mmm. Shows wha’ ye know.”

“Hey!”

“Ow!”

Harry rubbed his side where Niamh had punched him then proceeded to ruffle her hair into wild spikes.

“Hey, now!”

“Tha’ shows ye.”

“You braggart. It unfair when you do that.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t reach your hair! Your too bloody tall!”

Harry grinned down at her and said, “Na. Yer too short.”

“Oh, shut up, you overgrown braggart.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

A few days later…

“What the….”

“Erm…”

Harry and Niamh looked a few rows ahead of them to see Crabbe and Goyle’s potion billowing smoke. As Snape charged over to them, he swore he saw Hermione dart into Snape’s office. He nudged Niamh and nodded casually towards the door. The two of them watched it until Hermione darted back out, the front of her robes bulging.

“Oookay. Tell me I didn’t just see Hermione steal something out of Snape’s office.”

“Erm…”

Niamh sighed. “I thought that was what you were going to say.”

Harry half-smiled then watched in amusement as Snape pulled a blackened firework out of Goyle’s cauldron. He and Niamh looked at each other then over at Ron and Hermione, who were looking innocently at Snape. Rather too innocently.

Niamh smirked and whispered, “It was them.”

“Yeh,” whispered Harry back. “They’re tryin’ too hard ter look innocent.”

“We should give them some pointers.”

“Hmm.”

“Question is; what are they doing? AND WHY IN THE BLOODY HECKIT DIDN’T THEY TELL US!!”

Harry gave Niamh an amused look and gave her a gentle prod with his elbow.

“Per’aps they’re tryin’ somethin’ on their own.”

“Oh, like what? Sneaking into the kitchens?”

“Orrrr…our comm’n room.”

“Whaaaat?”

“Welllllll,” drawled Harry, “they t’ink Malfoy is the Heir o’ Slytherin.”

“Crazy, that.”

“Yeh. So, they fin’ a way inter the common room ter find out if they’re righ’.”

“Yeah. Sure. Makes since. Question, though.”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“How how HOW would they do something like that?”

Harry smirked and replied, “Polyjuice Potion. Makes ye look li’ someone else fer an hour.”

“Cool! I could turn into Malfoy and make him look like an idiot.”

“As amusin’ as tha’ would be, we need ter figure out wha’ Ron an’ ‘Ermione are doin’.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged and leaned on the table, head tilted forward so his hair fell about his face.

“Who knows?” He then grinned sideways at her from behind his hair and asked, “But doan ye wan’ ter know?”

Niamh grinned and slung her arm about his shoulders.

“Of course! How shall we find out?”

“Oh, I’m sure we c’n ge’ Jar ter follow ‘em.”

“He’ll be spotted.”

Harry smirked.

“No ‘e woan.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“And here we go. Can we have a drum roll please as we walk into our – no, excuse me- everyone else’s impertinent doom?”

Harry laughed at Niamh as the two of them, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny walked down to the Great Hall for the dueling club. They had managed to convince Ginny to join them. Or Niamh had dragged her along and Harry and Hermione had dragged Ron when he wanted not to come when he heard Ginny was coming.

Now Ron and Hermione were walking up in front of them, silent, with Harry and Niamh behind them and Ginny trailing behind. As Niamh launched into more about everyone else’s doom, Harry trailed back to walk beside Ginny. She didn’t notice him until he slung an arm about her shoulders, making her jump.

“‘Ey. Jus’ me.”

Ginny smiled and mumbled, “Hey, Harry.”

“Ye okay?”

“I-I guess so.”

“Ye doan soun’ too confident.”

Ginny shrugged.

“‘S Ron, is’n i’?”

Ginny closed her eyes and whispered, “He hates me…”

Harry’s eyes widened and he tightened his arm about her shoulders.

“No ‘e does’n! Wha’ makes ye thin’ tha’?”

“He’s avoiding me. He won’t even talk to me.”

Harry smiled and said, “‘E’s still in shock, Gin. Doan worry. ‘E’ll come ‘round.”

“I still think he hates me.”

“Well, I know ‘e doan, so stop thinkin’ tha’ way. ‘E jus’ doan know ‘ow ter handle ye bein’ in Slytherin.”

“Your in Slytherin.”

Harry blanched and looked at Ron. “Yeh. I know. But, tha’s different. Yer Ron’s sister. His little sister.”

“His only sister,” corrected Ginny darkly.

“Exactly!” cried Harry, trying to get the younger girl to brighten instead of darken. “He – I doan know. ‘E probably feels li’ e’s got ter protect ye or somethin’. I – I would’n know fer sure as I…”

Ginny smiled and softly said, “Because you’ve never had anyone to protect.”

“Yeh. ‘Cept maybe Tyls.”

“Who?”

“A friend. ‘E – ‘e and I grew up tagether on the stree’s. ‘Fore I came ‘ere, ‘e was me best friend.”

Ginny smiled again. “He was lucky to have you. And – I guess so am I. Thanks, Harry.”

Harry beamed and said, “No t’anks needed, Gin. I ‘elp wherever I c’n.”

“That’s what’s so amazing about you, Harry.”

“Wha’?”

“Well, you grew up on the streets and you told us all that you didn’t have the best life there. Yet – you do this. You help people. And you don’t ask for anything in return.”

Harry shrugged and said, “Na a very Slytherinly trait, but…its me.”

“I don’t see how you did it.”

“Now tha’ ye mention i’, neither do I.”

Ginny laughed and Harry smiled in return, happy he had gotten through to the girl he had considered a sister since her mother had taken him off the streets. He then noticed that they were nearing the Hall and disengaged his arm from her shoulder. When she looked at him questioningly, he winked and whispered, “Would’na wan’ yer brothers to trounce me, would ye?”

Ginny’s cheeks flushed and he smiled, patting her shoulder as they entered the Hall.

Niamh suddenly turned to them and hissed, “What are you two doing? C’mon! I want to get close?”

“Why?” asked Harry but never got an answer as Niamh grabbed his arm and pulled him along. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny trailed along behind them.

The five of them found themselves positioned at one of the corners of the gold stage. Ron suddenly turned to Harry and asked, “Do you know who’s…”

His voice trailed off into a groan as Lockhart tromped onto the stage in bright, canary yellow robes. But it was the dark figure following him that made Harry and Niamh look at each other in awe.

Snape himself was walking behind Lockhart, an expression of disdain on his face. Niamh stood on her tiptoes to whisper in Harry’s ear, “I’d look like that too if I knew that Lockhart…y’know…”

Harry coughed then hissed back, “Ye’d look like tha’ whether ye knew tha’ or na.”

Niamh grinned and said, “You know me too well, Harry.”

“Far too well.”

Niamh punched his shoulder for that then pushed Ron’s jaw up as he had been gaping at the two professors on the stage.

“Can everyone see me? Good, good! Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to start this little dueling club – just in case you ever need to defend yourself as I have in countless situations. And let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape (Snape’s upper lip curled here). He’s told me that he knows a bit about dueling himself and has agreed to help me with a little demonstration before we begin. But don’t worry – you’ll still have your Potions Master in one piece when we’re through!”

Niamh snorted and said, “He’ll be lucky if he’s still in one piece after this!”

“Why do you say that, Ni?” asked Ron.

Niamh grinned. “Because, Ron, my friend, Snape, our dear Potions Master, was once an Auror!”

“An Auror?” gasped Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

Harry looked up at the dark professor, trying to imagine him as an Auror. He turned back to Niamh and said, “‘E was’n in yer book.”

“Sure he was. He’s in the back under ‘Dark Wizard Hunters’. It says he was almost as good as Mad-Eye Moody!”

“Who?”

“Nevermind. Let’s just watch the show.”

Lockhart and Snape were now facing each other on the stage, holding their wands out in front of them like swords after they had bowed (which had been a simply nod from Snape). Lockhart was commentating.

“Now, we hold our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three we will both cast our spells – not aiming to kill of course.”

Niamh, Ron, and Harry and snorted at that, earning a glare from Hermione.

“One – two – three…”

The two wands swirled above their owner’s heads and Snape brought his down with a cry of, “Expelliarmus!” There was a brilliant flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was sent flying, crashing into the wall and sliding down to the floor.

Hermione let out a cry of horror while Niamh, Harry, and Ron let out cheers.

“Oh, stop it you three. He could be hurt!”

“Who cares?” said Ron as Harry and Niamh continued to cheer, earning a small smile from Snape.

Lockhart scrambled to his feet, his hair disheveled and his hat sitting on the ground beside him.

“And that was a Disarming Charm. I’ve lost my wand – thank you, Miss Brown – an excellent idea to show them that, Severus!”

Snape sneered. He had hoped to at least break the idiot’s skull open. Or his arm. Something broken would have made him very happy.

“Now!” said Lockhart, clapping his hands together. “Let’s divide you all up into pairs! Severus, if you would help me…”

Snape sneered some more but went down into the crowd, pairing students as Lockhart did. Harry watched as Lockhart moved towards them and he froze.

“Ah! Mr. Weasley, if you would pair up with Mr. Finnigan. Miss Granger…with Miss O’Feir, Miss Weasley with Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Potter…ah! with Mr. Malfoy.”

Harry turned to see Draco standing behind him, looking at Lockhart in shock. He then turned his eyes to Harry and smirked. Harry bared his teeth in a parody of a grin. Oh, this was going to be fun…

Niamh sidled up beside him and whispered, “Kill him. Please.”

Harry glared at Draco out of the corner of his eyes and growled, “‘E’ll wish I killed ‘im.”

“Get ‘em, mate!”

“Alright!” yelled Lockhart, “face your partners and bow!”

Harry and Draco barely moved their heads, their eyes locked on each other. Harry’s grip tightened on his wand as he searched for a nice hex to use…

“Wands at ready! On the count of three, cast your spell to disarm your opponent – only disarm – we don’t want any accidents. Now…one – two – three!”

Harry had already started casting at count one. He brought his wand down on ‘two’ and yelled, “Praecipito!” Draco was struck by a jet of light blue light and pitched headlong onto the stage. Winded for a moment, the other boy raised his wand and yelled, “Tarantallegra!” causing Harry’s legs to begin a jerky quickstep.

Harry cast the counter-charm and, ignoring Lockhart’s cries of “Stop!” sent another curse hurling at Draco.

“Gelo!”

Draco froze midway in casting another spell at Harry, his eyes wide. Harry took this time to look around at the other duelers. Ron was holding up Seamus, who looked like he was about to collapse. Beyond them, Niamh was removing the number of hexes she had cast on Hermione in the space of five seconds. Harry could also see Ginny helping Neville up off the stage.

Lockhart looked at all of them and said, “Perhaps I should teach you how to block unfriendly spells…how about…” His eyes fell immediately on Harry and Draco and Harry barely held back a moan.

“Potter and Malfoy!”

Draco actually did groan, rubbing his chest from where Harry had sent him sprawling on the stage. Lockhart suddenly came over to Harry and said, “Now Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this.”

He attempted to perform a strange maneuver with his wand but ended up dropping it. As he leaned over to get it, Harry resisted the strong temptation to kick his teeth in. When Lockhart straightened, wand in hand, Harry gave him a fake smile and said, “Thank ye, professor. I’m sure I c’n ‘andle it.”

“Are you sure…?”

“Yes,” snarled Harry, fixing Lockhart with a murderous stare. Lockhart backed away hurriedly and Harry turned his attention to Draco, who was smirking.

“Scared, Potter?”

“Drop de’, Malfoy.”

Draco smirked again and Harry narrowed his eyes at him. He’d teach the little rat…

“One – two – three!!”

“Serpensortia!”

A long black snake shot out of Draco’s hand, landing on the floor in-between them. Harry watched as it lifted its angular head and flicked its tongue at him. It looked rather like the snake he had talked to in the garden over the summer.

“Don’t move, Potter,” said Snape, from somewhere to his. “I’ll get rid of it…”

“Allow me!” Lockhart brandished his wand at the snake, causing a loud bang. But nothing happened but the snake flying through the air then chasing after Justin Finch-Fletchley with an angry hiss.

Harry ran forward to the edge of the stage and yelled, “Leave ‘im alone!” The snake dropped to the ground, its head arching around to look at Harry. Harry smiled then looked up at everyone else. The angry faces he found looking back at him were not what he had expected. Justin glared at him and yelled, “What exactly are you playing at, you snake!” before storming off. Harry gaped after him in confusion then yelled after him, “Well, ‘cuse me fer savin’ yer LIFE!” He then whirled and left the Hall, not spotting the strange way Snape was looking at him.

Snape watched as Niamh, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny left the hall after Harry, all of them looking worried. He himself got rid of the snake, his eyes watching the door where his son had disappeared as he silently cursed himself.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry!”

Harry rammed his wand into its holster on his belt then whirled to face whoever was behind him, his face a mask of fury. He snarled, “What?” causing Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Niamh to scramble backwards.

Ron breathed, “Why didn’t you tell up you were a Parselmouth?”

Harry’s anger faltered a little and he asked, “I’m a wha’?”

“A Parselmouth!”

“It means you can talk to snakes,” said Hermione.

Harry blinked then said, “I know. I did i’ before. There was a snake in me aunt’s garden and I started ‘avin a conversation wi’ i’. It said i’ was lonely.”

“A snake told you it was lonely,” repeated Ginny faintly.

Harry nodded at her, the rest of his anger fading away. “Yeh.”

“Harry, this is bad. Really bad.”

Harry frowned at Ron and asked, “Why? I’m sure loads o’ people can do i’.”

Niamh shook her head. “No, Harry, they can’t. I’m surprised you haven’t read about Parselmouth’s in one of your books. It’s not a common gift.”

Harry’s anger returned now as he spat, “Well, if I was’n one Justin’d be dead!”

“You told it to back off?” asked Hermione.

“Ye were there! Ye heard me!”

The four of them shook their heads. Ron said, “All we heard was you speaking Parseltongue – Snake Language. You could have been saying anything. It was creepy.”

“I – I spoke a diff’ren’ language? ‘Ow? ‘Ow can I speak a diff’ren’ language wi’out knowin’ it!”

Ron shook his head and the three girls shrugged. Harry glared at them then asked, “Well, wha’ does i’ matter if I spoke Parseltongue? Justin would’ve been killed by tha’ snake!”

“Harry,” said Niamh, “it matters because Slytherin, our House Founder, was famous for being able to talk to snakes. That’s why the symbol of our house is a snake.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as he took in what that implied.

“So – so…”

“So, everyone’s going to think you’re his great-great-great-grandson or something…” said Ron.

Hermione nodded and said, “And for all we know it could be true.”

Harry shook his head and whispered, “I’m na.”

“You’ll find that hard to prove,” said Ron.

Harry fixed him with a glare and asked, “Well, do ye think I am? Tell me, Ron. Do ye think I’m the Heir o’ Slytherin? Pray tell me if ye do.”

Ron’s blue eyes went wide and he sputtered.

“H-Harry…”

“Tell me!”

Harry’s green eyes blazed as he glared at Ron, then turned his fierce gaze onto his other three friends.

“Wha’ about ye three? Do ye think I’m the Heir?”

The three girls stared at him in awe, not answering him. Harry’s eyes narrowed to slits of green fire and he spat, “Fine then,” and walked away from them, ignoring them as they yelled after him.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Jar. JAR!

< AH! Harry! You scare me half to death.>

Very funny. Did you get all of the ingredients?

< Yeah. Why?>

Get down here.

< You’re brewing it tonight?>

Yes. Now GET DOWN HERE!!

< Okay, okay. What dungeon?>

The one where I told you to put the ingredients after you stole them.

< Should we have stolen those things, Harry?>

I’ll pay them back if you’re so worried about. Now get your feathered arse down here before I come up there and curse your beak off.

< Testy tonight, aren’t we? What happened?>

/snarl/ I don’t want to talk about it.

< But…>

I said I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!

< Okay, okay. I’m coming. Open the window, will you?>

Harry opened the small dungeon window them turned back to the bubbling cauldron. A few minutes later Jardin flew in and landed on his shoulder, nipping his ear gently. Harry smiled slightly at the raven and reached up to stroke the midnight feathers.

“Sorry I yelled at ye, Jar. I’s jus’…I’ve ‘ad a really rough day.”

< I presume you do not wish to talk about it?>

“No,” replied Harry stonily, turning back to the potion.

< Ah. Do you want me to read out the recipe?>

Harry smiled again and nodded.

< All right then. > The raven fluttered down to the table from Harry’s shoulder and peered at the book propped up again another cauldron.

< And our first ingredient is…>

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

< And stir three times clockwise and we are done.>

“Yer sure?”

Jardin turned his head to glare over his shoulder at Harry.

< Of course.>

“Okay. One – two – three… ‘Dere we go.”

< Now what?>

“Now we wait. It’s ‘sposed to turn the color o’ me parents House but…”

< But what?>

“I modified i’.”

< Yes, I guessed that. When you showed me the recipe the first time, I didn’t think I saw ‘Hallen’s Write-Everywhere Pencils’.>

Harry looked at the raven and said, “‘Opefully tha’ will cause me parents names ter appear on th’ potion.”

< Hopefully.>

“Yeh.”

< You sound awfully positive.>

“I’m na positive. I’m ‘opeful.”

< That’s my point. You’re not positive.>

Harry sent a mild glare at the raven and dryly said, “T’anks, Jar.”

< Anytime.>

Harry snorted then watched as the potion, a deep purple, swirled, its color changing. Jardin hopped up to Harry’s shoulder and peered down at the potion.

< Seems to be working.>

“We ‘ope.”

< Yes.>

The two of them watched the potion as it swirled, turning a deep scarlet. Slowly, in pure gold the words ‘Lilliane Evans’ scrawled itself across the scarlet surface. Jardin rustled his feathers and said, < Well, that’s one. > Harry silenced the raven with a scowl then looked back down at the potion as it turned from scarlet to the color of blood before darkening to a deep green that was very familiar.

“Slytherin green,” breathed Harry.

As the two of them watched, an invisible hand scrawled a name in silver across the potion. Harry let out of hiss and scrambled away from the cauldron, eyes wide. He didn’t stop until he collided with the stone wall and he sank down it to the floor, eyes unfocused. Jardin hopped to his knee and looked him in the eyes.

< Harry. Harry?>

Harry didn’t hear him. He kept seeing those words scrawled in silver across the dark green of the potion. The words kept repeating over and over in his head.

Severus Snape.

Severus Snape was his father.