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SS Chapter 13: Mon Amour
🕑 Added 2024-09-22 00:09:40 +0000 UTCXIII. Mon Amour
Fleur watched, uncomfortable, as Alice gently placed a bouquet of flowers into a vase by the window. Adeline and Aimee stared as well.
“I’m going to throw those out.”
Alice spun around. She turned to Adeline, who had spoken.
“Why?”
Adeline stared at her as though she’d grown a third eye.
“He gave that to you about ten seconds after threatening to scramble our minds -”
But Alice shook her head.
“That was the blonde boy. Draco,” she said, “And besides, Harry apologized.”
Alice fell upon her four-poster, almost swooning. Adeline looked as though she were ready to break something.
“You have lost your fucking mind,” she snapped, “The boy had you in tears. I’ve never seen you so scared in my life -”
“Of course I was scared,” Alice’s brows furrowed, “Anyone would be if they heard that a supposedly dead Dark Lord was still alive.”
She sighed, pulling a nearby pillow into her arms.
“He’s not afraid,” she thought aloud, glancing up at the roof, “He’s got all that on his plate, and he’s not afraid. He’s fighting.”
“He’s manipulating you,” Fleur whispered faintly. “Adeline and I were watching him in the library. He uses people, just like he did that blonde boy -”
Alice looked away.
“You don’t know that -”
“Alice, he does to people what I used to do to boys!” Adeline snapped. She now looked positively furious, “You remember that? Back in our fifth year, when I used to use those lovesick idiots to do whatever the fuck I wanted?”
Alice opened her mouth to speak, though Adeline ignored her.
“I saw the look in his eye, Alice,” the dark-haired girl whispered, “When he was talking to us through the cupboard. It’s the same look I used to see in the mirror, only stronger. You heard what that Draco boy said. The bit about using some Nev Longbottom.”
But Alice shook her head.
“You’re both doing what you always do,” she said, staring at the bouquet.
“Oh?” Adeline challenged, “Go on, then.”
“You’re reading into things far too much,” Alice told her, “You’re assuming that just because you used to be a piece of shit, everyone else must be.
“And you,” she continued, turning to Fleur, “Think he’s a bad guy just because he’s male. I understand, I really do - I know how much their leering gets to you. But not all of them are evil. Hell, you heard the way he was talking about your allure - it’s the reason he didn’t open the cupboard!”
“He didn’t open the cupboard because that would open him up to retaliation,” Adeline corrected furiously, “More than that, he had places to be. He didn’t have time to deal with lovesick idiots who’ve read far too many romance novels for one lifetime -”
“What do you think, Aimee?” Alice asked, turning to the girl, “You’re always objective.”
They all turned to face the brown-haired girl, who shifted uncomfortably.
“I don’t know what you two heard earlier,” Aimee admitted, glancing at Fleur and Adeline, “But from the sound of it, he was frustrated from dealing with the Dark Lord.”
Alice smiled. From across the room, Adeline glared.
“And the Longbottom bit? Or the way he was treating that blonde boy?”
“The Longbottom stuff was questionable, but not necessarily damning,” Aimee said, “As for the blonde boy - I know him.”
Fleur’s eyes widened with surprise. She leaned closer.
“Who is he?”
“Draco Malfoy,” Aimee muttered, “His grandfather owned most of the wine cellars my mother used to look over. He’d drop by occasionally with Draco, back when the boy was six or seven.”
The girl paused.
“If he’s anything like he used to be, he’s a spoiled piece of shit.”
“Which explains why Harry was talking to him like that,” Alice smiled knowingly, eyeing Fleur and Adeline, “That’s how the two of you would be talking to a spoiled brat.”
“He’s Harry now?” Adeline asked irritably. Fleur frowned.
“My father has spoken of the Malfoys before,” she muttered, “They were avid supporters of the Dark Lord, no?”
Aimee nodded.
“Why would a Malfoy be close with Harry Potter?”
“I’ve no idea,” the brown-haired girl admitted, “Your guess is as good as mine.”
A thick silence blanketed them. Adeline watched as Alice stared at the vase by the window.
“Somehow, I doubt Jean would be very pleased to see how you’re acting right now.”
Alice pursed her lips.
“I don’t care. We broke up months ago.”
Adeline rose to her feet.
“I’m going for a walk,” she snapped irritably, “All of you - except for Alice - are more than welcome to join me.”
And she stepped out, Fleur hurrying after her.
(-{- S S -}-)
Harry stood beside one of the two water pools in the Chamber of Secrets’ main hall. The pale spirit of Salazar Slytherin stood beside him.
“She looks just as she did millenia ago.”
Harry frowned. He stared into the watery depths, just barely able to make out the rotting outline of Slytherin’s basilisk.
“You killed her, then?”
Harry nodded.
“Me and two others. We used a rooster and the Sword of Gryffindor.”
Salazar Slytherin stared at him.
“You managed to pull the Sword of Gryffindor from the hat?”
“No,” Harry shook his head, “No, that was Neville.”
Slytherin nodded thoughtfully.
“I expected as much,” he admitted, “I highly doubt Godrick would have entrusted such a gift to you.”
“Because I’m like Tom?”
“Because you’re like Tom.”
Harry paused, his mind racing. He quickly turned back to the spirit.
“How long did Tom have the stone, again?”
“Not long,” Slytherin admitted, “A year at most. It was much better than the time I spent with his uncle, though.”
“I can imagine,” Harry smiled, “Morfin didn’t seem all that sane, even for someone who’d spent decades in Azkaban.”
He trailed off, thinking carefully.
“Tom killed my parents.”
“You don’t seem too upset about that,” Slytherin noted. Harry frowned.
“Neither do you. I’d have thought you’d be slightly more disturbed with how your protege turned out.”
Slytherin shrugged.
“He wanted a great deal,” Salazar said simply, “The more valuable something is, the more it costs to have.”
Harry considered that for a second.
“He tried to kill me, too. But it backfired. He was vanquished, and I was hailed a hero.”
He turned to the old spirit. Slytherin eyed him speculatively.
“What curse did he try to use?”
“The Killing Curse.”
The man stared.
“That is . . . interesting.”
He looked down at Harry again.
“You said he became a Dark Lord?” he asked curiously. Harry nodded.
“Lord Voldemort.”
Slytherin frowned.
“What beliefs did he champion?”
“Er - I don’t entirely know,” Harry admitted, “I think blood purity was one of them.”
“Well, I suppose that’s something,” Slytherin sighed. Harry watched him.
“You don’t care that he’s a Dark Lord?” Harry asked, his brows furrowed.
And to think I thought the stories of Slytherin being evil were exaggerated.
“Anyone who dares present a new religion is heralded as the devil by the Church,” Slytherin said, waving a hand dismissively, “Simple titles are just that - simplifications. To truly understand a man, you must not gaze at his face, but into his soul.”
Harry stared at him. The man seemed unimpressed.
“Anything else I should know?”
Harry shrugged.
“I’m a Parselmouth.”
“I figured,” Slytherin frowned, “You wouldn’t be able to enter, otherwise. You must be a descendant of mine.”
“I’m not so sure,” Harry said skeptically.
“Well, I am,” the old man spoke in an almost condescending tone, “And, seeing as I created Parseltongue, I like to think my word means a bit more than yours.”
Harry decided to let the topic drop.
“I’m a half-blood, too,” he added eventually. Slytherin wrinkled his nose.
“We can’t all be perfect,” the man muttered, “Tom’s blood was dirty, too.”
Harry made a face. The spirit of Salazar Slytherin stepped back from the pool housing his basilisk's corpse.
“You know, you children are awfully simple to understand,” the man said, turning to him, “It’s quite clear to me why you wanted the stone -”
“And why’s that?”
“To see your parents, obviously.”
Harry grit his teeth.
“No.”
“No?” Slytherin frowned, “Well, isn’t that interesting . . .”
He glided away, surveying the serpent effigies that lined the chamber.
“Then why?”
I don’t know.
“It’s a legendary artifact,” Harry said half-heartedly, “It’s not like I’d just pass-up on it.”
A nasty, knowing smile slipped over Slytherin’s face.
“You know Rowena?” he asked, motioning to his head, “Woman with the diadem? Liked wearing blue and bronze? Her daughter was murdered, you know.”
He leaned back slightly.
“After that, Rowena began hunting for the stone,” Slytherin told him, “Couldn’t explain why she wanted it, and never found it - but she really wanted it.”
“What are you saying?” Harry asked, his eyes narrowed.
“Grow the fuck up,” Slytherin yawned, “Life is short. If you blink, you might miss it.”
The spirit turned away, gliding to the far end of the hall. Harry watched as it went.
“Er - where are you going?”
“Out.”
“I don’t think you can.”
The spirit scoffed.
“Of course I can. I’m Salazar Slytherin.”
Harry tapped the symbol on his ring. The spirit zoomed wildly through the chamber and back to Harry’s left.
“Don’t ever do that shit again,” Slytherin snapped irritably, pushing himself up to his feet, “ I’ll hex you -”
“I don’t think you can do that, either.”
“Again. I’m Salazar Slytherin.”
He’s a fucking lunatic.
The man brushed nonexistent dust from his robes.
“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Slytherin barked, stretching. Harry shrugged.
“It’s just History of Magic. It’s not important.”
“Not important?” Salazar glared at him, “I’ll have you know, I’m a central part of History of Magic!”
“I know, I figured that much out.”
“Not important,” Slytherin grumbled. The man turned around, inspecting Harry carefully, “Your glasses are stupid.”
Harry stared at the man.
“Where did that come from?”
“Back in my day, we wouldn’t use those muggle contraptions,” Slytherin drawled, “We’d fix our eyes up, like proper witches and wizards.”
“Through rituals?”
Slytherin stared at him.
“You know rituals?”
“No shit I know rituals,” Harry motioned to the chamber that surrounded them, “Where do you think I learned them from?”
“Oh,” Salazar paused, “Which ones have you done?”
“Just one,” Harry admitted, “Though I enchanted potions ingredients last year for a malnutrition potion.”
Slytherin nodded appreciatively.
“You must be reasonably talented. Clearly my blood hasn’t been too badly tainted by those muggles -”
“I noticed you ignored the fact that I was malnourished.”
Unsurprisingly, the old spirit continued to ignore that little detail.
“You should really fix your eyes, you know,” he added thoughtfully, “Imagine if those little metal things fell from your face in the middle of a duel. What would you do?”
Harry shrugged.
“Die, probably.”
“Wrong answer,” Slytherin said irritably, “We’ll get to that right away, of course -”
Harry quickly shook his head.
“No, no, no,” he said hurriedly, “I’m not jumping that far ahead - I’ve only done one ritual, I told you -”
Across the hall, the vague spirit of Salazar Slytherin was muttering obscenities.
“You listen here, you little dingbat. I’m Slytherin. Salazar Slytherin.”
He turned away, stretching.
“If I say we’re fixing your eyes next, we’re fixing your eyes next.”
Harry clenched his jaw.
“No, we aren’t,,” he said irritably, “Besides, I can’t risk it messing with my Animagus project.”
Salazar spun around.
“Animagus?”
Harry stuck his tongue out. The mandrake leaf appeared momentarily, pressed tight against the roof of his mouth.
“That’s . . .” Slytherin’s eyes shimmered, “That’s awfully irresponsible! Who said you could do that?”
Harry shrugged.
“I did.”
“Your teachers ought to be fired!” Slytherin muttered darkly, “Letting children act as foolish as muggles - you’re clearly not ready for such a venture!”
“First of all, I am,” Harry snapped irritably, “And second of all, I have a friend who is an animagus. He’s helping me.”
“Oh,” Slytherin deflated, “I suppose that’s alright, then. Even if it is a waste of time . . .”
Harry frowned. His mind conjured up an image of a large black dog escaping Azkaban.
“I highly doubt it’ll be a waste of time.”
“Well, you’re wrong. What happens if you turn into a goldfish?”
“That’s not terrible,” said Harry thoughtfully, “I can’t swim -”
“You’ll be eaten by a fucking salmon!” Slytherin moaned, “Oh, of all the ways to go out!”
The spirit turned away, rushing off with his hands on his head. Harry summoned him back with a tap of his ring.
“You’ll die for that, boy -”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you go in a second,” Harry said, lowering himself to the floor. He crossed his feet, “I’ve a few questions, though.”
“About what, Tom?”
Harry thought for a moment.
“No. There’s time for that later.”
He looked up.
“There’s a tournament I want to enter,” Harry said, “The Triwizard Tournament.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s interesting,” Harry told him, “But more than that, because it’s proof of who I am. Proof of what I can do.”
“Sounds like narcissism,” Slytherin sniffed, “Might as well have a wank in front of a mirror -”
“However,” Harry said loudly, ignoring him, “Dumbledore doesn’t want me to join. He thinks Voldemort is messing with the tournament.”
Slytherin stared at him, confused.
“Dumbledore? The Transfiguration Professor running from Grindelwald?”
“I don’t know about the Grindelwald bit,” Harry muttered, “But Dumbledore’s headmaster now. He’s considered the most powerful wizard in the world.”
“Stronger than Tom?”
“I don’t know,” Harry thought for a moment, “People would like to think so, though.”
Slytherin snorted.
“Of course they would. It’d make it easier to escape accountability. But what does this have to do with the tournament?”
“Well, if Dumbledore doesn’t want me entering -”
“Who gives a fuck what he wants?” Slytherin snapped, “This is your life. Your legacy. Not his.”
The spirit turned away.
“Decide who you’d rather be. The man who made a change, or the man who bowed at Dumbledore’s feet.”
(-{- S S -}-)
Harry sat beneath the Invisibility Cloak, toying with his ring. Beside him, Malfoy muttered darkly, crossing out a line on his Charms essay. Harry glanced over.
“You spelt ‘envision’ wrong.”
“Shut up,” Draco hissed. He corrected his work anyway.
“No, you should. People will think you’re insane if you keep talking to yourself.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes.
“Why are you here again?”
“To think,” Harry admitted. He rolled Tom’s ring over his finger, “And to observe, too.”
“Observe who?”
“The Veela, obviously.”
Harry glanced across the library. At the opposite side sat Fleur Delacour, accompanied by all three of her friends. The group largely focussed on their work, occasionally sneaking glances at Draco. Harry grinned.
“If you look I’ll kill you,” Harry began, “But they’re watching you.”
Draco paused. Harry fought the urge to slap him.
“Is the black-haired one there?”
Harry frowned at the question.
“Which one?”
“Blue-eyed one. The girl you made cry.”
“You mean Alice,” Harry said. He snickered quietly, “She’s been looking over the most. To think, I thought you were unsubtle -”
“She likes you.”
Harry froze.
“What?”
“I went by their carriage the other night,” Malfoy began, crossing out another line of his essay, “I don’t really know what I was planning. Something along the lines of Obliviating them, like you should have.”
“And I’m assuming you realised you’d fuck it up?”
Draco grit his teeth.
“Those stupid flowers you gave her were sitting in a vase on the windowsill,” he said, “If anything my mother’s told me about love is true, she likes you.”
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
“Do you know anything about her?”
Malfoy frowned.
“Why would I?”
“Oh I don’t know - because your family is from France?”
Malfoy thought for a moment.
“I don’t really know about her,” he said, “But I recognized the brown-haired girl. Her name’s Amy, I think. Her mum worked for us, I think -”
Of course she did.
“- and everyone knows about Delacour, obviously.”
Harry blinked.
“They do?”
“Of course they do,” Draco yawned, adding another line, “Her father’s the French Minister of Magic.”
Harry glanced at the girls across the library with newfound interest.
(-{- S S -}-)
“You haven’t been to History of Magic for a week.”
Harry looked up. About a dozen fourth years were stood opposite him. Some of them weren’t even Gryffindors.
“Neither have they,” Harry yawned, pointing at Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott.
“They’re not in our class, Harry,” said Hermione irritably, “You are. You can’t keep skipping!”
“Why not?” Harry frowned. He idly turned the pages of the book in his lap, “It’s not like Binns noticed.”
Besides, I’m still doing the homework.
Dreary clouds hung overhead, casting the Hogwarts Grounds into a dim glow. Harry leaned further into the tree he sat before, eyeing the veritable crowd. Hermione looked about ready to explode.
“It doesn’t matter whether or not Binns noticed!” she hissed angrily, “You’re meant to set an example!”
“And I am,” Harry muttered offhandedly, “It wouldn’t look good if I entered the Triwizard Tournament without entering, would it?”
Hermione stared at him. Harry fought the urge to smile. He settled for glancing around the group instead.
“Why’d you bring so many people?” he asked, frowning, “You could’ve just talked to me on your own, you know -”
“We were worried about you,” Parvati frowned, “You've been alone a lot more than usual.”
“Well, now you know why,” Harry smiled. Behind her, Susan frowned.
“Auntie said Dumbledore told you not to enter,” she said, confused. Harry twitched irritably.
“Auntie’s right,” he yawned, “Tell her I say hi, by the way.”
“Why doesn’t Dumbledore want you to enter?” Ron frowned.
Harry shrugged.
“Beats me,” he lied. He turned back to Hermione. The girl had begun to go red.
“Harry,” she began slowly, “If Dumbledore says you shouldn’t enter, you really shouldn’t. He’s probably saying it for your safety.”
“Probably.”
The girl glared at him. After a long moment, she turned, stomping furiously through the grounds and back up to the castle.
This is going to be annoying.
“The Goblet of Fire is being lit tonight!” Harry yelled as Hermione left, “He won’t have time to meet me, ‘Mione!
Unsurprisingly, this only seemed to upset the bushy-haired girl even more. Harry watched as she stalked through the large doors and out of sight.
“Are you sure you’re fine?” Lavender asked sweetly. Harry nodded.
“I’m fine, really,” he borrowed Riddle’s smile, “It means a lot to me that you all bothered to check.”
Lavender blushed. She and the others smiled faintly. Harry watched, intrigued, as Pavarti stepped forward from the group.
“If you’re serious about entering the Tournament, I’ll sneak a copy of Hermione’s History of Magic homework for you,” she said curtly, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Cheeks tinted faintly, the brown-skinned girl turned away. The others followed in her wake.
Maybe I do like her.
Harry watched as they left, his eyes slowly sliding down the grounds and toward the Beauxbatons carriage. A number of French students loitered outside, chatting amongst each other. Harry fancied he recognized a few of them.
The Alice girl. The others must be her friends.
The faintest hint of mangoes lingered in the air. Harry closed his eyes, letting the oddly soothing scent wash over him -
“There’s something you should know.”
Harry almost jumped. He turned to find Susan Bones still standing before him, Hannah Abbot at her side.
“Fucking hell,” Harry swore, closing his eyes, “I thought you left . . .”
“My aunt is up to something,” Susan interrupted, “She and several other higher-ups in the Ministry.”
Harry paused. He stared at the girl with newfound interest.
“How do you know?”
“I went back home a few days ago through the Floo in Professor Sprout’s office.”
“That can’t be allowed.”
Susan shrugged.
“My aunt’s the second most powerful person in the Ministry,” she said, “That’s just how it is.”
The girl paused.
“I didn’t tell auntie I was coming - I only wanted to grab a few things and go -”
“What things?”
Susan blushed furiously. Behind her, Hannah giggled
“That’s none of your business,” Susan said hotly, “Anyway, I overheard a bit of what they were saying. They mean to use you somehow.”
A carefree smile slipped across Harry’s face.
“Susan, of course they’re trying to use me. They always are.”
But Susan shook her head.
“This was different,” she assured him, “I could tell by the look on Auntie’s face. Whatever she’s doing, it’ll work.”
Harry frowned.
“I’m surprised you’re telling me all this,” he admitted slowly, “We’re not that close.”
Susan’s brow rose.
“Forgot about last June, have you?”
Harry frowned, his eyes flicking toward Hannah Abbot. The blonde-haired girl was staring pointedly at the ground.
“No,” he said curtly, “I haven’t forgotten about your confession of love, either.”
Hannah went as red as Susan’s hair. To Harry’s surprise, the Bones girl didn’t seem particularly perturbed.
“I said what I said,” she shrugged, “Would you have preferred I lied?”
“No,” Harry shook his head, grinning, “Though you do catch feelings awfully fast.”
Susan frowned.
“I’m sure it seems that way to you.”
“Do you lose feelings fast, too?” Harry asked her curiously, “You’ve done nothing about it since term started. I would’ve acted by now.”
The red-headed girl looked down.
“I didn’t like what I saw.”
“So I was right then,” Harry surmised, “You do move on fast -”
“Don’t,” Susan sounded hurt, “Don’t talk about me like that.”
Harry looked up, bewildered. The girl’s grey eyes shimmered. They were clearly wet.
“What did you do to her?” Hannah hissed angrily. She hurriedly wiped at the redhead’s cheeks, “You - you vile -”
“What the fuck is going on?” Harry blinked. He turned to Hannah, “It was fine when you were quiet, but I’d really appreciate it if you let me one-on-one. I can’t deal with two of you at once.”
Especially when I have no interest in talking to one of you.
Hannah looked outraged. Harry watched as she swelled up, a torrent of hot words ready to spew from her chest -
“It’s fine,” Susan whispered, “I’ll see you at dinner.”
Hannah blinked.
“Are - are you sure?”
“It’s fine,” she whispered, “Save me a spot, alright?”
Hannah nodded slowly. They watched as the blonde girl turned around, stumbling back toward the castle, Susan slowly turned back to face him, pawing at her eyes.
“I hate this,” she told him, “I hate this stupid fucking game we play.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Harry said. His mind was racing, struggling to put together the pieces, “I don’t - is this about your feelings for me?”
The redhead grit her teeth. Harry watched as she vanished her tears with a wave of her wand.
“Not quite.” Susan muttered, her voice shook. Harry smiled knowingly.
“Still in love with me, Bonesy?”
Susan blushed. By her hips, dainty palms balled into fists,
“You don’t get to call me that. Now when you’re like this.”
What?
“You’re not making sense,” Harry told her slowly, a brow raised, “Would you like to take a moment and try explaining again?”
Susan glared at him.
“I hate you.”
“Receipts say otherwise, Bonesy,” Harry yawned. He paused, “Those are muggle things, in case you’re wondering. They show people what they’ve bought -”
“I know what they are!”
“You do?” Harry was surprised.
But the only muggleborn fourth year in Hufflepuff is Justin, and the two of them never talk.
“Who the fuck told you?”
“A much better person than you,” Susan hissed, “Not that it’s any of your concern.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Harry waved a hand dismissively, “We’re getting off topic, anyway.”
“Yes, we are,” Susan grit her teeth,
“So why are you telling me about your aunt’s little ploy?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” the girl said, her voice smooth and controlled, “The same reason I helped you with when you begged me for help saving Black and killing Pettigrew -”
“I didn’t beg,” Harry argued. Susan rolled her eyes.
“Sure you didn’t.”
“And that’s the only reason?” Harry asked, “Nothing to do with your feelings?”
“Of course it has to do with how I feel,” Susan admitted. She watched him carefully, “Are you going to use that against me?”
Harry thought for a moment.
“No,” he shook his head, “You wouldn’t happen to know anything else about your aunt, would you?”
Susan glared at him.
“I told you more than you deserve to know,” she told him, “I did what was right.”
Harry sighed.
“Someone has an obsession with justice.”
“Someone should know that by now,” Susan said angrily. Harry frowned, “Not that it matters. I should know better by now -”
“You know, you really don’t make any sense.”
Susan glared at him.
“Don’t talk when I’m talking.”
Harry blinked.
What on Earth -
“You’re lucky my aunt raised me,” Susan said, turning around, “If she hadn’t, I would’ve let you rot.”
“That’s not true,” Harry said slowly, “We both know it.”
Susan eyed him. Harry watched as she looked away, heading back for the castle.
“Good luck, Harry. I’ve done my part.”
Comments
suspicious
Finally a Salazar Slytherin that feels like a fucking Salazar Slytherin.
