Slytherin Raised by Wolfstar: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

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Chapter Eight: Mudbloods and Murmurs

Harry was quite glad to finally have reached the weekend. Draco had been such a jerk the last couple days, Lockhart kept popping up randomly, and although he meant well the little Gryffindor kid was a little annoying. Harry had been looking forward to some rest and relaxation for Saturday but those plans were thrown out the window at six in the morning.

‘Draco! Potter! Grab your equipment and get dressed! We’re having practice!’ Captain Marcus Flint yelled into their dormitory. Not only did he wake up Harry and Draco, but also Theodore, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini.

‘Bloody hell Flint, it’s not even dawn.’ Malfoy complained as Harry was already getting changed.

Despite knowing it would do nothing Harry added, ‘I swore the Gryffindor team had the field for practice today?’

‘They used to, but I convinced Snape to give it to us. Now stop your complaining and get to the field!’

When he found his emerald team robes and pulled on his clock for warmth, Harry went down the spiral staircase to the cold stone common room, his Nimbus Two Thousand on his shoulder. He was just about to walk through the enchanted wall when Malfoy called out.

‘Potter! Wait up!’

‘Hurry up Draco, and quiet down, anyone not awake from Flint is going to be from your yelling.’

They started climbing the hundreds of stairs together. Harry would have preferred if they did it in silence but Malfoy broke that desire.

‘Are all practices this early?’

‘Practices are when we don’t have class so they are often either really early, in the afternoon, or late into the evening. Normally though he only makes practice this early to punish us, but I think today he just wants to mess with the Gryffindors.’

‘So they aren’t usually this early?’

‘Draco, Quidditch is a commitment, it’s not always a convenience. So if you can’t commit to odd hour practices go back to bed now and Adrian Pucey will happily take his spot back.’

But Malfoy kept walking up the steps, thankfully though he went the rest of the way without opening his mouth.

They were the last to reach the Slytherin team changing room, Allison, Terence, Flint, Bletchley, and Bole were already there. Everyone other than Flint still looked half asleep.

Lucian Bole was lying down on one on the benches, and Terence put his left shoe on his right foot before noticing it his mistake.

‘You two, you’re late. Finish getting ready and listen up.’

Everyone gathered around except Harry and Malfoy, but they were still listening.

‘We are winning again this year, I am making sure of it. We will continue to train longer and harder. And I have plans in place for all of your punishments if we lose just a single game. Trust me though, those punishments will seem like a vacation if we lose more than just one game. I better be seeing improvement by every team member every week or it’ll be laps around the entire grounds.’

He then went into lectures about strategies he had seen in professional matches over the summer and how they should be replicating them as much as possible. Bole started drooping off again, and even Allison was doing the head nodding of a person who was just barely staying awake.

After half an hour of listening to Flint babbling on, he finally started winding down. He transitioned into what he must have thought was a motivational speech but to all who heard it sounded like a threat.

‘This is my last year so I want us to win no matter what. And this year we got an extra advantage thanks to Draco’s father, but if I see any of you playing with your brooms instead of practicing I’ll beat you with it. Now let’s get to the field!’

They had been in the changing room so long that the sun was up properly now, although remnants of mist hung over the grass in the stadium. As Harry walked onto the pitch he could see that the Gryffindors were preparing to start practice, he realized Flint never told them they had been rescheduled.

Harry’s childhood friends Fred and George were talking to surprisingly Colin Creevey when George spotted them. He pointed at Flint.

‘Because they’re here in person.’

‘I don’t believe it!’ The Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood, who was already flying on his broom, hissed in outrage. ‘I booked the pitch for today! We’ll see about this!’

Wood shot towards the ground, landing rather violently in his anger, and staggering slightly he made his way towards their team.

‘Flint!’ Wood bellowed at their captain. ‘This is our practice time!’ We got up specially! You can clear off now!’

Marcus Flint, who likely had some troll blood in him, was much taller than Wood. He closed the distance between him and Wood, and looked like he was about to fight him when a cunning smile crossed his face.

‘Plenty of room for all of us, Wood.’

The Gryffindor Chasers Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over too. Seemingly to back Wood up.

‘But I booked the pitch!’ said Wood, positively spitting with rage. ‘I booked it!’

Harry was starting to feel awkward, Flint really had pulled their field time right from under their nose. He knew Flint would never actually allow it but he wish they could train side by side just for today.

‘Ah,’ said Flint, ‘but I’ve got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch pitch, owing to the need to train their new Chaser and Beater.’

‘You’ve got a new Chaser and Beater?’ said Wood, distracted. ‘Where?’

Draco and Allison stepped forward to make themselves known. Fred took one look at Draco and his nose scrunched up.

‘Aren’t you Lucius Malfoy’s son?’ said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike. ‘You tried to beat up my little brother in August.’

‘I did not touch a hair on his head, but he was a ravenous beast who tried to tear me to shreds. Harry, you saw.’

Fred, plus every other Gryffindor was now staring at him. He was on the spot and just said the first thing that came to mind.

‘I’m staying neutral in this. Can’t we just both practice?’

The Gryffindor Seeker, a fourth year named Kenneth Towler, spoke up.

‘Yeah, no. We don’t want you spying and learning our strategies.’

Malfoy, already energized from insulting Fred and his family, turned to Towler with a jerking smirk from ear to ear.

‘No one wants your strategies, you filthy mudblood,’ he spat.

Harry knee Malfoy was the kind of wizard who would say that, but it still caught him off guard. Harry became very mad, and so did everyone else. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George from hitting him, but Malfoy still got punched in the face, not by they twins, but a Slytherin.

Terence now stood above the fallen Draco, his knuckles red from the impact. Draco had been knocked to the ground but otherwise seemed ok, no bloody nose or dislocated jaw. Which was a shame because Draco shutting up would be very soothing at the moment.

Colin Creevey took a picture, and just looked really confused at the whole manner. ‘What’s a mudblood?’

Absolutely furious, Malfoy yelled. ‘It’s what you and that half-whit Seeker are you little parasite! All you mudbloods are going to pay for this!’

‘Oh, shut up Malfoy!’ Harry finally said, but the damage was done. Tears were streaming down little Colin’s cheeks and all the Gryffindors were retreating before any more trouble could occur.

Flint helped Malfoy up, then the captain turned to Terence. ‘What in bloody blazes were you thinking Higgs! Bench! Now! I have half a mind to kick you off but we’re going to need you if we’re going to win this year.’

Terence was clearly upset, but didn’t say anything. He just made his way to the bench, Harry almost swore his face conveyed satisfaction, as though he thought it was worth it.

After this Harry didn’t quite feel like practicing, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Over the next two hours they trained harder than Harry had ever remembered them train. About an hour in Tracey and Theodore arrived to watch, and sat next too Terence.

Finally, after several hours they finished up and after Harry changed he went to see Terence and his other friends. Allison was right behind Harry.

‘Terence, are you ok? What happened out there.’

His head was in his hands. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

Tracey spoke up, ‘Harry, he’s pretty shaken up. I don’t think we should go back to the common room as Draco may be waiting with his gang.’

‘We planned on going to Hagrid’s, let’s go there until everyone is cooled down.’ Harry suggested.

‘Yes, let’s go there.’

Harry helps Terence up and all five of them headed for Hagrid’s hut which wasn’t very far from the Quidditch stadium. They walked up to the front door and knocked.

Hagrid appeared almost at once, looking a bit grumpy, but his expression softened when he saw them.

‘Bin wonderin’ if you’d come ter see me-come in, come in-thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again. He’s bin botherin’ me.’

Hagrid spotted Terence, who he hadn’t met, and gave a questioning look to Harry who quickly responded.

‘This is my good friend Terence, we’ve had a rough morning and need a place to calm down. Is it ok if we all come in?’

Hagrid was often uneasy with Slytherin students, never really trusted them, but he came to trust Harry and so he opened his door wider so they knew they were all welcome. They all crossed the threshold into the big one-room cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, a fire crackling merrily in another. They all sat down on the giant sized chairs and bed.

‘Would some tea help?’ Hagrid offered.

‘Yes, thank you sir.’ Tracey said kindly.

Hagrid cheerfully bustled around, making them tea. His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Harry.

‘What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?’ Harry asked, scratching Fang’s ears.

‘Givin’ me advice on gettin’ kelpies out of a well,’ growled Hagrid, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. ‘Like I don’ know. An’ bangin’ on about some Banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I’ll eat my kettle.’

Harry didn’t know Hagrid as much as he’d like, but he never thought he’d criticize a Hogwarts teacher. Harry also didn’t quite believe what he said, yes Lockhart wasn’t the best teacher, but that didn’t mean he didn’t do what he said he did in the books. Harry decided to speak up.

‘I know he’s a bit eccentric, Hagrid, but Lockhart isn’t that bad. Why else would Dumbledore hire him?’

‘Cause he’s desperate, Dumbledore is. Gettin’ very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren’t too keen ter take it on, see. They’re startin’ ter think it’s jinxed. No one’s lasted longer than a year fer decades.’ Hagrid seeming didn’t want to discuss the subject anymore, he turned his attention to Terence. ‘So tell me, what ‘appened that ya needed tea an a safe place ter calm down?’

Terence was indeed now calm, but he kept looking at his tea instead of anyone else. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

Allison decided to recap instead. ‘Draco Malfoy, a nasty rich kid who’s our new Chaser, called the Gryffindor teams muggle-born Seeker a Mudblood, Terence punched Malfoy in the face. Malfoy has a handful of nasty friends so we’re laying low until we think it’s safe to return to the dungeons.’

‘Well I see now why ya wanted ter hit em, but I can’t see why ya actually did it.’

Terence suddenly stood up, once again red in the face with anger. ‘Because I am sick of hearing stuck up “pure-blood” Slytherins degrading others they deem less. Muggle-borns, half-bloods, and hybrids, we all have just as much magical potential as pure-bloods and yet every single day I hear someone from our house insult them for something they have no control over as they were born into it.’

Theodore was now standing, ‘Watch what you say, Higgs, I’m proud to be pure-blood.’

‘Well you and the Weasley’s might be an exception, but most pure-bloods don’t care about anything else but their status, they think about nothing else and do terrible things to try and keep them pure. It’s also driving their families to extinction, the “Sacred Twenty-Eight” are more like the “dwindling Twenty-Four” but it is commonly believed that most of them aren’t as pure-blood as they claim.’

Theodore, now getting quite red in the face himself, responded pretty harshly. ‘You take that back Higgs.’

‘I will not.’

Harry thought he might have to break up a fight, but Theodore backed away and headed for the door. ‘I need fresh air, I’ll be in the library.’

Once he was gone Terence turned to Hagrid, ‘See, that is what I can’t take much more of. Pure-blooded Slytherin entitlement.’

‘Ey, yer right young man. There ain’t a witch or wizard alive that doesn’t have muggle or tainted blood somewhere, an it’s true there ain’t a spell a pure-blood can do that a muggle-born can’t, but ya shouldn’t be usin’ yer fists ter prove yer point. It could gettcha inter a lot of trouble.’

‘Yeah Terence,’ Tracey said with concern, ‘If Malfoy tells Snape or Pomfrey you could get detention.’

Allison then spoke up, ‘That’s not the worst, if Draco decides to tell his father he would certainly find away to have you expelled, or punished in another nasty way.’

Terence finally looked guilty. ‘Ok, you are all right, I won’t hit him again. But that fecker deserves to have his entitled asal slapped around a bit.’

‘Good to ‘ear,’ said Hagrid cheerfully, he than turned his attention to Harry. ‘Harry, Igotta bone ter pick with yeh. I’ve heard you’ve bin givin’ out signed photos. How come I haven’t got one?’

Quite annoyed at this, Harry uninteresting raised his voice.

‘I have not been giving out signed photos!’ he said hotly. ‘If Lockhart’s still putting that about –’

But then he saw that Hagrid was laughing.

‘I’m on’y jokin’,’ he said, patting Harry genially on the back and sending him, face first, into the table. ‘I knew yeh hadn’t really. I told Lockhart yeh didn’ need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin’.’

‘Bet he didn’t like that,’ said Harry, sitting up and rubbing his chin.

‘Don’ think he did,’ said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. ‘An’ then I told him I’d never read one o’ his books an’ he decided ter go.’ He then held out a plate to his guests, ‘Treacle toffee?’

Everyone took a piece, and Harry who had experience with Hagrid’s toffee before took the smallest piece as the stuff was strong enough to glue your job shut. After they started chewing away Hagrid pointed towards the door.

‘Come an’ see what I’ve bin growin’,’ said Hagrid. Harry said yes while the others just nodded, most likely because they couldn’t say yes if they tried. Harry finished the last of his tea and the four of them joined Hagrid at the door.

In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid’s house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins Harry had ever seen. Each was the size of a large boulder.

‘Gettin’ on well, aren’t they?’ said Hagrid, clearly proud of his work. ‘Fer the Hallowe’en feast ... should be big enough by then.’

‘What’ve you been feeding them?’ said Harry curiously.

Hagrid looked over his shoulder to check that they were alone. ‘Well, I’ve bin givin’ them – you know – a bit o’ help.’

Harry noticed Hagrid’s flowery pink umbrella leaning against the back wall of the cabin. Harry didn’t know much about the umbrella, but he knew anytime something magical happened around Hagrid the umbrella was usually close by. Hagrid wasn’t supposed to use magic. He had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, but Harry had never found out why, although admittedly he never really put in the effort to find out.

‘Is it some kind of growing charm, or potion, enchanted plant food’ asked Tracey excitedly, ‘Because if it’s the first I’d love to learn it.’

‘It’s a charm, but I don’t think I could teach it to ya, but maybe Flitwick could,’ Hagrid said with a bit of a laugh, ‘It’s funny, actually, that little girl from Flourish an Blotts said the same thing yesterday.’

‘What girl?’ Harry asked, ‘Ginny?’

‘Na, she wasn’t a Weasley. I don’t actually know her name now dat I think about it. Anyway she was jus’ exploring the ground when I bumped inta her, but she gave me the feeling she was lookin’ for someone or somethin’.’

They all talked a bit longer than said there goodbyes to Hagrid. It was nearly lunchtime and as Harry had only had one bit of treacle toffee since dawn, he was keen to go back to school to eat. They walked back up to the castle in a far better mood than when they had left the Quidditch stadium.

They had barely set foot in the cool Entrance Hall when a voice rang out. ‘There you are Mr Potter.’ Professor McGonagall was walking towards them, looking stern. ‘You and your friend Mr Nott will be doing your detentions this evening.’

Harry sighed but knew it had to be done. ‘Ok Professor, I’ll go tell Theo to meet me at Lockhart’s classroom.’

‘Oh no Mr Potter, while you will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail, Mr Nott will be with Mr Filch polishing the silver in the trophy room.’

‘Oh no, can’t I go and do the trophy room too?’ said Harry.

‘Any punishment with friends isn’t much of a punishment at all,’ said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. ‘Professor Lockhart will expect you at eight o’clock sharp. Good day Mr Potter.’

Harry slouched into the Great Hall followed by Tracey and Allison, Terence had to leave to go change out of his Quidditch uniform, they went and sat beside Theodore who was eating his lunch and looked equally upset. Harry didn’t fancy his shepherd’s pie as much as he’d thought. It hadn’t felt like there detention was real until McGonagall gave them the specifics.

‘Knowing Filch he’ll probably have me there until midnight.’ Theodore complained.

‘The detention is only supposed to take an hour, so don’t give him a reason to extend it.’

‘I know how to clean a lot of things by hand, but silver is not one of them.’

‘I’d swap with you,’ said Harry hollowly. ‘The Dursley on occasion had me clean the house, which included their antique silver plates. I already asked McGonagall to put me with you though and she denied me so I doubt she’d let us switch either.’

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and Harry was dragging his feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart’s office. He took a deep breath and then knocked.

The door flew open at once. Lockhart beamed down at him.

‘Ah, here’s the scallywag!’ he said. ‘Come in, Harry, come in.’

Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart. He had even signed a few of them. Another large pile lay on his desk.

‘You can address the envelopes!’ Lockhart told Harry, as though this was a huge treat. ‘This first one’s to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her, she is a huge fan of mine.’

The minutes snailed by. Harry let Lockhart’s voice wash over him, occasionally saying, ‘Mmm’ and ‘Right’ and ‘Yeah’. Now and then he caught a phrase like ‘Fame’s a fickle friend, Harry’ or ‘Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that’.

The candles burned lower and after what seemed like forever the hour was finally up. He had to tell Lockhart this however as he was completely focused on the fan mail.

‘Look at the time. I’d never have believed it-the time’s flown, hasn’t it?’

Harry didn’t answer however, his wrists were incredibly sore and he just wanted to get back to the dungeon and rest.

Tracey and Allison were waiting for him back in the common room, Theodore got back not much later. They both talked about their detentions.

‘I never want to see a silver trophy again,’ complained Theodore, who smelled like strong polish. ‘I also don’t want detention with Filch again, period.’

‘Yeah, and I’m glad tomorrow is Sunday, as I don’t think I can hold a quill again for a little while.’

They all started laughing, the four of them told jokes and other stories until they were completely exhausted. About an hour later they went there separate ways and went to bed. Draco was thankfully already asleep, hopefully meaning he wasn’t so bent on revenge that he’d stay awake to ambush them.

Despite his exhaustion it took Harry a long time to get comfortable and fall asleep, and when he finally did it was a very light sleep.

A little before midnight he was then woken up by a very faint sound. It was a voice, a voice to chill bone-marrow, a voice of breath-taking, ice-cold venom.

‘Come...come to me...let me rip you...let me tear you...let me kill you...’

Harry gave a huge jump and almost cracked his head on the bed board.

‘What?’ he said loudly, his heart now pumping a mile a minute. He than realized something though. ‘Draco! Draco, is this your idea of revenge?! Scaring me half to death in the middle of the night?!’

‘Potter, what in bloody blazes are you talking about?’ To Harry’s surprise Malfoy’s voice sounded groggy, unmistakably like someone who just woke up.

Harry then called to Theodore. ‘Theo, Theo are you awake?’

‘I think we all are mate, what are you screaming about?’

They went down to the common room where they were completely alone. ‘I heard a voice, it said it wanted to kill. Did you hear it too?’

‘I didn’t hear anything Harry, are you sure it was a voice?’

‘I heard it as clearly as I hear you. It said that it was coming and that it wanted to kill.’

Theodore seemed worried, but then managed to calm a bit. ‘Were you asleep when it started?’

‘Well yes, but the voice is what woke me up, I didn’t dream it.’

‘Harry, sometimes right when I’m falling asleep or just starting to wake up I am conscious but still dreaming images or sounds, perhaps the same just happened to you.’ He said this with a lot of confidence, ‘Until it happens again I’m going to say you had a small waking nightmare. It’s really late, let’s go back to sleep.’

And so they went back to their beds, but Harry couldn’t sleep for several more hours. He knew what he heard, and it was coming to kill.