Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin

"Wormtail?"

"No, my Lord. It's me. Lucius."

The tall, thin man stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He pulled off his hood to reveal an angular face and blond hair. He paused for a moment, then made his way across the room toward the dark-haired man. Lucius bowed.

"You have had a visitor?"

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius' voice was cold and confident, although he avoided looking the other man in the face. "Just as you predicted."

A high-pitched laugh began in the back of the dark-haired man's throat. "He wanted to see me?"

"Yes."

The dark-haired man turned away from Lucius and faced the fireplace. Outside, the wind was roaring. A storm was building.

"What did you tell him?"

"Just what you directed me to say. I told him what you required."

"Excellent, Lucius. He will come again?"

"Yes. He consented to gather the items you requested. He will return in a few days."

"Good." The dark-haired man said this in low voice, almost a hiss. "Thank you, Lucius."

But Lucius did not leave the room. He stood in the same spot and stared at the floor for a moment. Just as he was about to say something, the dark-haired man spoke.

"You want to know my plans."

Lucius didn't answer. He simply stared at the floor. The dark-haired man turned around and fixed his catlike gaze upon Lucius, who continued to look downward.

"Yes, of course you do. They all want to know."

"I'm getting owls every day, my Lord. They're--"

"They're restless. Yes, I know." He considered this for a moment. "Lucius, do you know what my mistake was?"

Lucius appeared confused. "My Lord?"

"My mistake." He enunciated this clearly, though he knew that Lucius had understood him. "I have been going about things in the wrong way. I see that now."

Lucius stared fixedly at the floor. He did not speak.

"Yes, during my exile I had a great deal of time to reconsider my approach. My aims were many, Lucius. I was unfocused. I should have concentrated on one thing at a time. One goal. I have that focus now." The man narrowed his catlike eyes and surveyed Lucius. "Tell them that they must wait. I must wait, so they will, too. Once I have attained my goal, no one will be able to stop us. Not the Ministry, not that fool Dumbledore, not even--" his voice quieted to a whisper "--Harry Potter. Then they shall wreak all the mayhem they like, unchecked. But until then--" he turned toward the window, outside which the rain was beginning to fall "--we must wait."

Lucius bowed obsequiously, but his puzzlement was evident.

"Your goal, my Lord?"

The man laughed at Lucius' perseverance, then sighed. "Come now, you know what that is. I will be immortal. Truly immortal, this time--not vulnerable like before." He turned to face Lucius again. "You want to know how. You will find out soon." The man drew his wand and inspected it idly. Lucius started. "Now," the man pocketed his wand once again, "leave. It is late."

Lucius pulled his hood up over his head, turned, and opened the door. Heavy sheets of rain were falling now. Without looking back, he walked out into the storm. The wind blew the door shut behind him.

In his bed, Harry trembled. He briefly opened his eyes, but exhaustion soon overtook him again. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

***

On the first day of classes, Harry and Ron met Hermione in the Common Room and caught her up on the events of the previous night and Sirius' presence at Hogwarts. The three of them then went to the Great Hall and sat down to breakfast together at the Gryffindor table. Harry was surprised to see that a bright sun shone down from the bewitched ceiling of the Great Hall.

"I thought it was raining," he mumbled to himself.

"What's 'at?" Ron said through a mouthful of blueberry muffin.

"Oh, nothing, just ... Didn't it rain last night? I thought I remembered hearing thunder ..."

Hermione and Ron looked across Harry at each other. "You must have been dreaming," Hermione told him matter-of-factly as she began to butter her toast.

Harry frowned. "Yeah, I suppose so." Hermione was right; it was a dream. He remembered now. He had dreamt of a storm, but all he could recall were a heavy rain, a man with a hood ... and red eyes with slits, like a cat's.

Harry gasped.

He had had this dream twice before, over the summer. The first time was the night after he had arrived back at the Dursleys'. The second had been a couple of weeks later. But he could never remember exactly what was said by the two men in the dream, or even who the other man--the one in the hood--was. He concentrated hard.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Ron, looking alarmed. Harry hadn't noticed the other two staring at him.

"Nothing," he lied. If he couldn't remember anything of use, it would be better not to mention the dream. It would only scare Ron and Hermione. Harry thought about telling Dumbledore about the dream, but it seemed unimportant, especially as Harry couldn't even recall what had happened in it. It was probably just a nightmare. After all, he had just dueled with, and nearly been killed by, Voldemort the previous term.

Hermione and Ron didn't look convinced, but fortunately for Harry the mail owls chose precisely that moment to fly in through the windows. A course schedule was dropped onto the plate of every student sitting in the Great Hall. Hermione began to read from hers.

"Double Care of Magical Creatures with Hufflepuff this morning, then Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch. Hmmm," she paused thoughtfully. "I wonder what Professor Green has planned this term? We covered curse- and hex-deflection pretty thoroughly last year," she finished apprehensively, as though she hoped what she was saying was true, but feared that she might be mistaken. Clearly she didn't look forward to being put under the Imperius Curse again.

A thought struck Ron. "Hey, you don't think she can teach us to read people's feelings, do you?"

Hermione considered this. "I doubt it. Anyway, even if she could, I'm sure it would take years to master." She took a bite of toast, then spoke, struck by a sudden impulse. "Hey, I bet if we finish early enough, we could talk to Hagrid for a bit before class!"

They rushed through breakfast and finished eating before the rest of the students. As soon as they were done, they got up from the table and walked out the huge doors to the entrance hall. They had only taken a few steps toward the castle's great oak front doors when they heard loud noises coming toward them from upstairs.

Peeves rounded a corner and appeared at the top of the flight of stairs that led up to the second floor. He was cackling loudly and throwing books from a dwindling pile that he carried under one arm. He seemed delighted at the prospect of tossing the books from the landing onto the floor of the entrance hall below, and promptly began doing so.

"Peeves!" Professor Green rounded the corner behind him, out of breath. "Stop! Peeves, don't!"

Peeves just cackled even more madly and threw the last book into the entrance hall, which was now littered with torn pages and volumes lying at odd angles. Students drawn by the noise had begun to peek out of the Great Hall in an attempt to find out what was going on. Snape glided past them and looked up at the landing.

"What on earth is going on here?" he asked icily.

But Peeves had been distracted by something. He had been depleting the pile under his arm by pulling books from the bottom of it, and now that he had run out of books, he noticed an item that had obviously been sitting on top of the pile he had grabbed from Professor Green's office. It was difficult for Harry to see, but it looked like a very small, brownish box.

Professor Green pulled out her wand. Her eyes grew wide in fear.
"Peeves! Give it back, now. Slowly." She spoke in a forced calm.

Peeves looked at her. "Professor wants it back, does she? Hmmm." He appeared to consider this. "She shall have it then. Peevsie shall not keep it from her, no he shan't." He moved to hand the box back to Professor Green, and she stretched out her wand hand to take it. Then, at the very last second, he appeared to change his mind. He hurled the box toward the marble floor of the entrance hall with all his might.

Snape lunged to catch the box, but he was a split second too slow. The box hit the floor with a loud bang--and nothing was left of it but splinters.

Professor Green looked as though Peeves had grabbed her heart out of her chest and hurled it down to the floor instead. She screamed and flew down the stairs to kneel before the spot where the little box lay in ruins. She touched the broken pieces with her fingers, as though she couldn't bring her mind to grasp the fact that the thing was destroyed.

Snape stood nearby, looking stricken. His expression quickly turned to one of barely controlled rage. "PEEVES!" he shouted. "The Baron will hear about this, you can be sure of that!"

Peeves, genuinely startled for once, flew off down the corridor the way he'd come. Snape ran up the stairs after him. But Professor Green was oblivious to these events. She continued touching the broken pieces of the little box with her fingertips, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Hermione rushed over and kneeled down next to her. "Oh, was it very valuable?" she asked softly.

Professor Green looked up at her, her eyes still wide, her mouth open. She looked lost for words. "Yes," she finally managed to say.

"Well, I'm sure there's some sort of restorative charm that can mend it. I'll get Professor Flitwick, maybe he knows ..." Hermione's voice trailed off as Professor Green began to shake her head.

"No," she whispered, "it's useless once it's broken." She closed her eyes and thought about this for a moment. Then she opened them again and said, "but I would like to collect the pieces. Would you help me, Hermione?"

"Of course," Hermione responded quickly, and shot Harry and Ron a commanding look. By now most of the students had returned to their breakfast. Harry and Ron scrambled over to kneel next to Hermione and Professor Green. As Harry began to pick up the pieces, he noticed that they looked and felt more like ivory than like wood, and that some of the pieces were large enough that bits of the original carving were still visible. On one shard he could just make out the leg of an animal--perhaps a horse or cow--and on another he could see the head of a person. Near the middle of the heap of shards, he found a single long, dark hair.

They picked up every piece they could find, even the really tiny fragments, and handed them to Professor Green. She still looked a bit pale. "Thank you," she said slowly, looking down at the pieces in her hands. "It was ... It was the last thing he ever gave me, you know. Before he died."

With that she swept back up the stairs, leaving her torn books on the entrance hall floor.

"That was really horrible!" Hermione exclaimed. It was warm and sunny outside, and they had just climbed the steps to Hagrid's front porch. "Someone should really do something about that poltergeist."

"I reckon someone will, now," Ron answered. "Did you see Snape? I thought he would explode."

That would have been worth seeing, Harry thought to himself.

Ron knocked on Hagrid's front door. "What was that thing, anyway? Some kind of jewelry box?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, didn't you hear what she said? 'It's useless once it's broken.' It must do something. I expect it was some sort of magical object."

Hagrid opened the door wide. "Well, there yeh are!" he exclaimed. He hugged each of them in turn, nearly squashing them. "I was hopin' ter say hello ter yeh last night."

"Er, Professor Green needed to speak to us," Harry explained. By now the other students had begun arriving, and Hagrid didn't seem to expect any further explanation.

"Ah well, yer here now, aren't ya?" Hagrid smiled. "I've got a surprise for yeh all back in the pumpkin patch. Let's have a look, shall we?"

The students let Hagrid lead the way around his hut to the pumpkin patch behind it. More correctly, he led the way to the plot of land that had formerly been his pumpkin patch; it was now covered in slime, and no plants grew anywhere within it.

Situated at the far corner of the patch was a gigantic snail, chartreuse in color.

"Tha's a Streeler," Hagrid announced. "Not too excitin', I know, but he's pretty, ain't he? Changes color on the hour." He beamed at the six foot-tall snail. "Now, they leave a venomous trail, so be sure not to step in the slime. Come around the outside of the fence to get a better look."

They spent the class period taking notes on Streelers and observing the one sitting before them. They were fortunate enough to see it change color twice: first to a dark red, and then to a vivid purple. Two hours later, relieved to have met a pet of Hagrid's that didn't seem inclined to injure them, the class walked back up to the Great Hall and lunch.

After lunch, the Gryffindors filed upstairs to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, wondering whether Professor Green had recovered from her ordeal earlier that day. They found her sitting behind her desk, wearing her usual sad smile. Harry noticed that she was a bit red around the eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered to Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they took their seats. They smiled back in acknowledgment.

Once Professor Green had called the roll, she stood in front of her desk and surveyed the class. "Gryffindor fifth-years," she began as she smiled down at them. "I know that Professor Dumbledore has impressed upon all of you the gravity of the situation facing us. He has it on very good authority," she shot Harry a glance as she said this, "that the Dark Lord has returned to power. And although we have not seen nor heard from him yet, Professor Dumbledore believes that he could surface at any time, in any place." The students shifted nervously in their seats. They didn't seem entirely comfortable with the prospect of facing Voldemort at any moment.

"I know it's difficult to hear, but I'm afraid it's the truth. I know you lost a fellow student last year. Cedric Diggory." Her voice lowered and became quieter. "I am told that he was a good young man who died simply because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That is the sort of unpredictable and merciless threat that I've been hired to protect you against." Her eyes narrowed. "As you can well imagine, I take this responsibility very seriously. I have a lot to teach you this year. I can promise you that I will work you harder than any teacher ever has, and ask more of you than you think I have a right to. But remember," her eyes twinkled familiary, reminding Harry of Dumbledore, "that this is for your own protection. Remember that what you learn in this class could save your life."

She paused and looked around the class. "Now, I'll need a a brave soul to help me show you what you're to learn this term. Volunteers?"

No one raised a hand, not even Hermione. Once again the students tensed and shifted.

Finally, a timid hand rose into the air from the front row.

"Neville?" Harry asked incredulously. Neville's expression was a combination of determination, shock at his own daring, and mind-bending fear. Professor Green smiled at him.

"Neville!" she exclaimed. "Come up here and face me." She placed him on one side of the room, set her wand on her desk, and stood across the room from him.

"Now. Curse me."

"What?" Neville looked around awkwardly.

Professor Green just smiled. "Any curse will do. Jelly-Legs, full Body-Bind ... Just curse me."

Neville thought hard and seemed to settle on a curse. He raised his wand tentatively. "Petr--"

But before he could even pronounce the curse, Professor Green had crossed the room. She moved so quickly that no one could see exactly what she had done, but in an instant Neville's wand had flown into the second row of desks, and he was laying on the floor staring up at the ceiling. Professor Green looked down at him. Everyone gasped.

"You all right?" she asked cheerfully as she helped Neville to his feet. He looked more than alright; on his face he wore a glazed look of utter bliss.

"But you were unarmed!" Parvati blurted out. "How did you do that?"

Neville took his seat again. "A lot of wizards consider Muggle self defense tactics worthless," she answered. "In my opinion, those wizards have never stared down the wrong end of a Dark wizard's wand unarmed. This term we will be studying self-defense. Muggle-style."

***

For the next hour, the Gryffindor fifth-years took notes on various Muggle methods of self-defense: kickboxing, Judo, karate, kung fu. They learned basic offensive tactics, defensive tactics, philosophies, and principles of each discipline. Just before the bell was to ring, Professor Green informed them that she was going to teach them a combination of techniques that she had distilled herself, after years of study.

"Finally," she announced, as they began to pack away their quills and parchment, "Professor Dumbledore has authorized me to ... appropriate some of your free time. All students in the school, divided by year, are to report to me one morning and one evening a week for ... training. You, along with the other fifth-years, will meet me on the front lawn every Friday evening at five o'clock, and every Monday morning at six. And you will wear the clothes and shoes that I put on your materials lists at the beginning of the year." The students gaped at each other.

"Does she really expect us to get up that early?" Ron whispered to Harry.

Professor Green raised her hand to silence the whispering that had just broken out. "Yes, I do expect you to get up that early. If you make me come into your dormitories after you," she took on a menacing tone, "you won't be too happy about it."

"She can't do that ... Can she?" Seamus asked Dean tentatively.

Professor Green hadn't heard Seamus' words, but she had seen his expression. "Try me," was all she said in response.

The bell rang and the Gryffindor fifth-years filed out of the classroom. "Well, I think it will be good for us," Hermione told Ron and Harry. "We haven't got much exercise over the past four years, have we?"

"Hermione," answered Ron, exasperated, "what's the point of exercise when you've got magic? When I learn to Apparate, I'm never walking anywhere."

"Yeah, and you might turn out to look like Ludo Bagman, too," Harry laughed, remembering the overweight former Quidditch player who had refereed the Triwizard Tournament last year. Ron frowned.

That night at dinner, Angelina Johnson came around to speak to Harry. "I've just talked to Fred, George, Katie, and Alicia," she said, referring to the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. "We need a new Keeper. Can you come out at nine o'clock sharp Saturday morning to help us judge? We'll also need to vote on a new team captain then."

"Sure," Harry responded, remembering his workout scheduled for Friday evening, and hoping to himself that he would still be physically intact by Saturday morning.

"Great," Angelina smiled. "I'll go tell the others."

"Saturday morning?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah." Ron looked at Hermione curiously. "Say, what are you planning, anyway? You've got that same look you had last year when you went on that 'spew' kick. You haven't developed some grudge against Quidditch now, have you?"

"No, of course not!" Hermione looked insulted. "I'm not planning anything. I'm just going to watch, that's all." Suddenly she seemed to catch sight of someone she wanted to talk to. She quickly gulped down the rest of her pumpkin juice and stood up. "Excuse me, you two. I've got to have a word with someone." She ran over to join a crowd of younger Gryffindor girls leaving the Great Hall.

"Hey," Harry nudged Ron, "Keeper tryouts! You interested?"

Ron's face brightened. "Yeah," he mused. He thought for a moment, then looked around. "I bet there'll be a lot of people trying out. Some older kids." He stared at a burly sixth-year near the end of the table. After a moment, he seemed to make up his mind. "Well, why not? I'm not a bad Quidditch player. Anyway, what's the worst that could happen?"

***

Harry, Ron, and Hermione settled into school life easily, picking up the old routines that had grown so familiar over the last four years. Professor McGonagall was starting to teach them the beginnings of geographic, as opposed to material, transfiguration, much to Hermione's delight. Professor Flitwick began the first Charms class with a dramatic Levitation Charm, which he demonstrated on Neville's toad, Trevor. By the end of the week, it seemed that academically, the year was shaping up to be their most interesting, and challenging, yet.

Double Potions with the Slytherins on Friday afternoon ("Again!?" Ron protested when he noticed it on the schedule) was no exception. The Gryffindors arrived in class punctually, and quietly began to set up their cauldrons. Draco Malfoy, along with Pansy Parkinson and several other Slytherins, sauntered in a few minutes late. Quite unexpectedly, Snape gave them the same sour look he usually reserved for members of other Houses.

"Please do not make a habit," he spat, "of arriving late to my class." The Slytherins, taken aback, scuttled to their desks and prepared their cauldrons.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shot puzzled looks at each other.

"Wonder what that was all about?" Hermione whispered as they wound their way out of the dungeon corridor after class. It had gone rather well, for Potions--Snape hadn't yelled at, threatened detention to, or insulted any student, even Harry, all class period.

"Wonder if he's sick?" Harry mused. Suddenly he remembered the mysterious task Snape had taken on at the end of last term, in the hospital wing. "He did seem a bit distracted."

"It's just the first day," Ron answered. "Maybe he wants to start the year off slowly, give himself something to work up to. Come on, we've got to change and meet Green outside." They made their way up to Gryffindor Tower and their dormitories.

The fifth-year students assembled on the lawn apprehensively at five o'clock that evening. It was unusually warm for autumn, and the shadows of the trees of the Forbidden Forest almost reached the castle walls. Professor Green walked out the front doors and down the great stone steps, dressed in her own gray robes and sneakers, identical to the ones the students wore. She also wore a green bandana tied over her head to hold back her hair, which was plaited into two very long braids that fell down her back. A very large black dog trotted along at her side.

"Snuffles!" Harry cried as the dog ran up to him cheerfully. He, Ron, and Hermione petted the dog, which promptly returned to Professor Green. Behind them, a voice snickered.

"What breed of dog is that?" It was Draco Malfoy. "Looks like a mutt ... like the canine version of--" he walked up level with Hermione and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, hello," he said, as though he hadn't seen her. She looked away, pointedly ignoring him. On Hermione's other side, Ron seethed silently.

"There's no need to look so fearful," Professor Green addressed the fifth-years, "unless you're afraid of hard work." The Hufflepuffs looked encouraged by this. "Now," she paced back and forth, surveying the crowd, "tonight I'm going to get some idea what I've got to work with. Let's get started. Follow me." She turned and walked down to the shore of the lake. The students followed her.

"It's simple," she said once they had all gathered at the lakeside. "You're going to run around the lake, twice. And I'm going to time you."

"Are you kidding?" Draco Malfoy asked disgustedly. "It must be miles around this lake."

"Two point five miles, to be exact," Professor Green answered him. "And no, I'm not kidding, Mr. Malfoy." She drew a small silver whistle and a regular Muggle stopwatch from her pocket.

"But the path around the lake goes right past the Forbidden Forest," Lavender put in timidly.

"Don't worry, I'll be running with you. Now, get ready," Professor Green said, looking at the watch and putting the whistle to her mouth. The stunned students looked around, obviously not mentally prepared for a five-mile run.

"GO!"

Professor Green blew the whistle and pressed a button on the stopwatch. For a moment, the students stood in a state of disarry. Some, including Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a group of Hufflepuffs, began to trot along at a slow pace. Others attempted to walk, or milled around. Malfoy and a couple of other Slytherin boys stood where they were.

Professor Green walked up to them slowly. "I ... said ... MOVE!" she shouted at them from a very close distance. Startled, they began to jog along behind the other fifth-years.

No one was really sure how long they ran, but to all the students, it seemed like an eternity. And all the while, Professor Green and the dog followed them. Sometimes she would speed up to run beside the faster students, and sometimes she would drop back to the slower ones, but always she was yelling.

"Come on, Patil! Don't hold out on me."

"Malfoy, my little sister could run faster than that. When she was two."

"Potter! Is that the best you can do?"

The only student she didn't harp on was Neville. "Good job," she told him encouragingly. He tried to return a thankful smile, but only managed a grimace of pain.

Finally, the students rounded the last curve. Some dropped to the ground, panting. Others just stood and tried to catch their breath. Harry was pleased to see that he had been one of the first to finish. Professor Green looked at her stopwatch and frowned.

"Pitiful. Haven't you kids engaged in any physical activity at all since you got here?" No one could answer; they were too busy trying to breathe. She shook her head. "Take a walk around the lawn to cool down, and then get up to the Great Hall for dinner."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione circled the lawn once, but they could still barely talk as they made their way up to the castle. Finally, Harry managed to speak. "She's got no mercy. She's like some kind of a drill instructor, or something."

"A what?" Ron asked.

"You know, in the army, they have ... oh, never mind."

"I'm dying," moaned Milicent Bulstrode behind them.

"No, you're not," Malfoy's nearly-breathless voice called coldly in response. "But I'll tell you one thing, you're an idiot if you take orders from her again. That's the last time I run circles around the lake like some Muggle."

Hermione turned around. "What are you talking about, Malfoy? She's our teacher. You don't have a say."

Malfoy smiled smugly. "You'll see."