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HPHM 161
🕑 Added 2025-10-29 23:14:40 +0000 UTCThe Roar Before the Blast
"What are you doing?" asked Harry, watching the group of mischievous magical creatures who were—without much success—trying to hide behind a bush not far from the castle.
Of course, "hide" was a very generous word to describe what they were doing. The three of them were huddled awkwardly behind a bush they had actually uprooted from the ground just to get a little closer. A brilliant strategy, undoubtedly.
Especially considering that one of them was an enormous three-headed cerberus. Fluffy, naturally, stood out far too much to hide behind anything short of a wall. Red wasn’t helping either; though much smaller than the great dog, his tail wagging from side to side gave him away from several meters away. And the unicorn… well, he didn’t even seem to intend to hide at all. He stood tall and majestic, wearing a stern expression that clearly said he considered it sacrilege to conceal his own magnificence.
The only one who seemed to take the concept of “hiding” seriously was Dee—the serpent, or rather, the basilisk—coiled among nearby branches, perfectly camouflaged within the leaves. Only her head peeked out, watching calmly. Thanks to the enchantment Wanda had placed on her, she could change her size at will, which made concealment far easier.
Red lifted his gaze and let out a brief, cheerful roar upon seeing Harry, circling around him affectionately. The boy sighed, following with his eyes the direction where the group seemed to be watching. From their so-called hiding spot, they attracted far more attention than if they had been walking openly through the gardens. Every passing student stopped to look, smiling and whispering among themselves; after all, these had become the unofficial pets of the castle.
Of course, few dared to approach too closely, especially Fluffy. Though the cerberus behaved gently most of the time, he was still a colossal beast, with three heads capable of biting a tree in half. The unicorn, for his part, was a noble and friendly creature, but still dangerous if provoked. And as for Red… well, at first he had been granted permission to roam freely, but his endless mischiefs had eventually earned him expulsion from the Ravenclaw common room.
Harry squinted toward the distance. “Ah. That’s the new kid, Jeff, and his brother Frank,” he murmured, recognizing the two students who seemed to be observing Red with curiosity. Both of them greeted him with a small nod.
The young wizard turned his gaze toward his dragon companion. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but don’t hurt any student… at least, not one who doesn’t deserve it,” he warned dryly.
On his shoulder, Terra—the small winged creature—pulled gently on his ear, as if scolding him for his tone. “Yeah, I know,” Harry sighed, raising his hand so she could fly toward the others.
“I’m not sure if you’ve met her before, but this is Terra,” he explained as the creature floated in front of the group. Red watched her closely, studying her as if deciding whether she was an enemy or an ally. Fluffy and the unicorn, whom Harry half-jokingly called The Destroyer, stepped closer with curiosity, while Dee—already familiar with Terra—slithered easily onto the dragon’s head.
“Treat her well. She’s Mom’s companion,” warned Harry, staring particularly at Red, who had a complicated history with flying things.
The dragon opened his eyes wide at that last remark, then looked back at Harry with an expression that almost said, Leave her to me. It might not have been what Harry meant, but at least it worked.
Meanwhile, Terra—oblivious to the silent exchange—landed atop Dee’s head and lifted her playfully, as if the two were simply having fun. The basilisk shrank to the size she usually took when hiding around Wanda’s wrist. They seemed comfortable together; after all, both spent most of their time with Wanda, so they had naturally become companions.
Even so, Harry couldn’t help but feel uneasy. A basilisk that could now fly didn’t sound like a particularly safe idea, even if Wanda had removed her deadly gaze.
“Whatever… just don’t get into trouble,” he said at last, resigned, watching the group—which had now grown larger with the addition of Dee and Terra. Ironically, he knew there were still more members yet to appear.
With a final sigh, Harry turned and began walking back toward the castle. He had Defense Against the Dark Arts next, taught by Professor Dominic—a man whose face he already knew from his previous stay at Beauxbatons. He expected, at least, an interesting lesson, though there was always something about that professor that unsettled him. But first, he had Potions with Snape.
…
Harry and Draco sat side by side, while Daphne and Hermione occupied the seats right behind them. Once again, the day’s lessons seemed to be shared with Slytherin. Sometimes Harry suspected it was intentional, as if the universe itself enjoyed forcing him to sit among the students he liked the least.
Professor Snape entered the classroom early, even before all the students had arrived. He moved with slow, deliberate steps toward his desk, his black cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. His cold gaze swept over the room until it settled on Draco and Harry.
As always, the weight of his eyes was immediately felt. He seemed to expect more from them than from any other student. Draco was his godson, of course, but with Harry… things were far more complicated.
Harry knew well the reputation Snape had among the Gryffindors; how he would take points for the smallest mistake and hand out merits to the Slytherins. He had even heard fragments of the professor’s past from Sirius and Lupin. Even so, he didn’t hate him. He knew that if, that day in the bookstore years ago, he hadn’t found the courage to approach and ask him about potions, Snape would probably have treated him very differently.
And although the man was a master of Occlumency, Harry could still perceive—thanks to his magical sensitivity—the emotions that stirred beneath that cold mask. Every time Snape looked at him, he could feel the shadow of the man he hated and the love for the woman he had lost.
It wasn’t affection, but it wasn’t contempt either. There was something else—something mixed with guilt. Guilt that Harry didn’t fully understand, but could sense flowing quietly between them.
“It seems you had fun at Beauxbatons,” Snape said in his icy voice, breaking the silence. “I hope you’re ready to return to real potion-making, not the pastime of spoiled children playing with vials.”
His tone dripped with disdain, likely aimed at the Beauxbatons potions professor. And rightly so. Snape was one of the best potion masters in the world, and for someone like him, any teacher who failed to meet his standards was simply unworthy of respect.
“Yes, sir,” Draco replied quickly, as nervous as always under his godfather’s gaze. More than fear, it was the anxiety of not wanting to look foolish in front of him.
Harry, on the other hand, nodded seriously without saying a word.
Snape cast a brief glance at Hermione and Daphne, though his expression didn’t change in the slightest; they didn’t seem to interest him at all. Sharp, cold, and precise as always. Still, Daphne silently appreciated her friendship with Draco and Harry; thanks to them, Snape didn’t treat her kindly, but at least he didn’t tear her apart verbally like he did with other students who, more than once, had left the classroom on the verge of tears.
At that moment, the door creaked open, and Carrow entered with a wide, unpleasant grin, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. His expression radiated the smug satisfaction of someone who believed he had just won the “Idiot of the Year” award.
“Hi, Luis!” called Pansy in a loud, sugary voice, exaggerated enough for the whole class to hear.
Or rather, for Draco to hear.
Draco, however, didn’t even look up. He simply opened his book and focused on the pages, as if responding to her would be a waste of time.
“Mmm,” muttered Carrow, half-heartedly returning the greeting before sitting down right beside Draco and Harry. Crabbe took the seat next to him, and Goyle sat behind. The boy gave Draco and Harry a mocking glance, but neither paid him any attention.
That day’s lesson involved brewing a Shrinking Potion, in pairs as usual. The materials were already laid out on the tables, and the students began working, following the instructions written on the board.
Throughout the process, Carrow kept glancing triumphantly at Harry and Draco, as if expecting one of them to ask what he had done or what his “evil plan” was. Both, however, ignored him completely, using all their willpower to avoid punching him and instead focusing on their potion.
“Have you seen your friend Hagrid lately?” Carrow asked suddenly in a low voice, with a tone so falsely innocent it was irritating.
Harry and Draco’s hands froze for an instant, but neither replied.
“What a shame,” continued Carrow with a malicious grin. “I doubt he’ll last long as a teacher. Our parents didn’t take kindly to that creature trying to attack Crabbe. They filed a joint complaint with the School Board and the Minister of Magic. And, well… you know, they have quite a bit of influence.”
Harry raised his eyes slightly. They narrowed, and for a brief moment, a red gleam flashed through them before he went back to stirring the contents of his cauldron as if nothing had happened.
Carrow, seeing that he wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted, frowned in annoyance and snorted.
“Well, who’d want to be friends with such a freak anyway?” he sneered, tossing a centipede into his cauldron.
Harry clenched his jaw. His face tightened, and for a second, it seemed like he would lose control. But he took a deep breath and restrained himself.
Then he heard Terry’s voice behind Hermione and Daphne, whispering excitedly, full of gossip.
“They say Pettigrew was seen nearby. A muggle recognized him, though she thinks he’s just some escaped convict.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than Carrow’s cauldron exploded. A metallic bang echoed across the room, and a thick liquid shot up toward the ceiling. The burning substance fell right over Carrow—or it would have, if not for Snape’s swift movement of his wand.
The liquid froze a few centimeters from Carrow’s face, suspended in midair, sparking dangerously. Snape glared coldly before making a smooth gesture, and the liquid drifted back into the cauldron without spilling a single drop.
Harry’s eyes returned to normal; the red glow vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He knew it had been his fault.
Snape, for his part, noticed. He shot Harry a brief, unreadable glance before turning to Carrow.
“It would be wise to pay attention, Carrow, and stop talking so much,” he said dryly, clearly irritated. Then he turned away and continued walking between the tables, inspecting the rest of the class.
Draco leaned slightly toward Harry, concern visible on his face.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
Harry looked at him for a moment, then nodded. His expression calmed, though deep inside, he could feel that same burning sensation—that irritating pulse in his stomach—growing once again.
