Harry Potter and the Sect of the Serpent

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: True Confessions

"So!" Dor said happily as he grabbed for a sandwich at the lunch table and knocked over a bowl of grapes. "What's next? Transfiguration? I'm brilliant at Transfiguration."

"Potions," Harry replied glumly. Dor stopped chewing and stared at him with disgust.

"Does Professor Snape know who you are?" Hermione asked quietly.

Dor shook his head. "At least, I don't think so," he admitted. "Ahh, Harry! Why couldn't you just get an acceptable on your Potions Owl and then drop it like a normal person?" Harry shrugged and Hermione looked vaguely scandalized.

"Didn't you have to have Potions to get into Auror training?" she asked.

"Yeah," Dor sighed, "but that doesn't mean I had to like it..."

Ron swallowed half of his sandwich in a few bites and then leaned forward conspiratorially towards Harry. "So," he said in a low voice. "How do you suppose we should do it?"

Harry shrugged. Next to him, Dor leaned forward across, a serious look on his face. "Do what?" he whispered loudly to Ron, who frowned.

"Dunno if I should tell you that," he said, straightening up.

"And why not?" Dor demanded, crossing his arms. "I thought we were mates, Ron."

Ron shrugged and looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, but you're like..." he lowered his voice to barely a whisper, "like an adult. You'll dob us all in. It's your job."

Dor snorted derisively. "I'm here," he replied in the same hushed tones, "to protect Harry against any fire-breathing nasties that want to do him in." Harry frowned at him, but Dor ignored him. "There is nothing in my job description about pulling your sorry arse out of the fire by running to Dumbledore or McGonagall every time you decide to do something stupid."

Hermione laughed and Ron shot her a nasty look.

"So what's it all about?" Dor persisted. "I'm dying to know now you've made such a big old deal out of it."

Ron glanced around suspiciously to ensure that no one else was listening. "Fred and George sent us a potion."

Dor nodded sagely. "And. What does it do?"

Ron blinked a couple of times.

"He doesn't know," Hermione said loudly. Ron glared at her. "Well you don't!" she said defensively.

"Well that's half the fun, isn't it?" Ron retorted somewhat unconvincingly. "We'll know what it does as soon as it starts doing it."

Hermione shook her head. "I still say you should write to your brothers and just ask them what it does. What if it sets the school on fire, or turns everything into a swamp?"

Dor laughed. "I wouldn't put it past them. I'm just glad they're on our side!"

"Do you reckon we're supposed to get him to drink it?" Harry asked. "Or just pour it on him somehow."

"Oh he has to drink it," Ron said certainly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And what makes you think that?"

Ron shrugged. "'S just logical, isn't it?"

Harry sighed. Secretly, he was beginning to side with Hermione; it seemed awfully risky to force feed an unknown potion from the twins to anybody -- even Malfoy.

Without thinking, Harry cast his gaze across the room to the Ravenclaw table where Gwyn was just getting to her feet. She caught his eye and smiled.

"Best be off," he said quickly, grabbing his satchel. "We can figure out what to do after class."

He sprang to his feet before Dor could say anything and hurried across the Hall towards Gwyn who was waiting for him by the door.

"You look awfully eager to get to class," she said with a coy smile, falling into step next to him as they passed through the doors. "Looking forward to an afternoon in the dungeons?"

Harry smiled as he reached for her hand. "Not even a little bit," he replied. "But I am looking forward to an afternoon with you."

Gwyn beamed at him. "You know," she said quietly, "I've been meaning to play that song I wrote for you." She squeezed his fingers. "Maybe we could meet in the practice room tonight after dinner. You don't have Quidditch tonight, do you?"

Harry's mind reeled happily as he thought about the chance of spending some time alone with Gwyn. "No, our next practice isn't until--"

"Hey, Harry! Gwyn! Wait for me!"

Gwyn turned to look over her shoulder and Harry groaned inwardly. Dor was rushing up to them as fast as his bad leg would carry him, clomping unevenly along the corridor with his cane.

"Hey!" he said with a brilliant grin. "Thanks for waiting! I'm not sure I would be able to find the dungeons without a guide. Do you think you can show me?"

"You go straight down," Harry growled. "Can't miss it."

Gwyn frowned at him. "Of course we'll show you," she said to Dor, smiling kindly, and slowing down so that he could fall comfortably into step beside them.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked pointedly. "I thought she could show you the way to the dungeons."

Dor shrugged innocently as he clomped along. "Said something about a book she forgot. And it tires me so to go up and down the stairs more than I have to..." Gwyn smiled sympathetically at Dor, "that I thought I'd just try to catch up to you."

"If you don't mind me asking," Gwyn said, "what happened to your leg?"

"Quidditch injury," Dor said promptly. "Fell about fifty feet and my leg got all twisted up under me. Nasty break. The bone's all right now, but I've still got some muscle and nerve damage."

Gwyn nodded, her eyes wide and impressed.

Harry held the door to the dungeon open while the others passed through, waiting for Dor. As they approached an empty table, Harry gave him a suspicious look.

"Quidditch injury?" he whispered. "Would that be in Hong Kong?"

Dor just grinned. "Good job trying to lose me, by the way," he whispered as he dug his potions ingredients out of his bag, "but you'll have to be a lot cleverer than that."

"Is that a challenge?" Harry whispered back. Dor didn't reply.

Harry looked up and saw Snape staring down his nose at them. "What have we here?" he asked in a bored tone. "Not another member of the Potter fan club, surely."

Dor knocked his stool over in his haste to stand up, leaning forward on the table. "Dorian Tucker, sir, at your service!" Several students around the room snickered. Harry slumped down lower on his stool.

Snape scowled as though Dor were something slimy he wanted to scrape off of the desk. "Sit down, Mr. Tucker, and kindly endeavor to keep your mouth shut for the remainder of the lesson."

Dor sat back down quickly and winked at Harry.

"A scar-head and a cripple," Malfoy sneered as soon as Snape's back was turned to the blackboard. "How droll."

"Shut it Malfoy," Harry growled through clenched teeth. Dor simply grinned at Malfoy in amusement.

"You really know how to pick your friends, don't you, Potter? Cripples, weasels, mudbloods, and whores." He glanced meaningfully at Gwyn and Hermione sitting on the other side of the room. "Honestly, you can have them."

"Watch your mouth," Dor said sharply, his grin vanishing.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, but didn't have a chance to say more, as Snape turned to begin his lecture.

Harry tried to concentrate on Snape's voice, droning on and on about the Draught of a Thousand Daggers they were going to begin brewing, but his thoughts kept drifting back towards Gwyn and Hermione working quietly in the corner. Gwyn's head was bent low over the desk as she copied down facts from the blackboard; her hair fell into her face and she paused a moment to tuck it back over her ear, chewing on the end of her quill as she listened.

Harry glanced back over at Malfoy who, he discovered, had been watching him. Malfoy smiled a vile, black smile and Harry felt the anger welling up within him. He thinks he got away with it, he realized as he clenched his hands into fists.

Ron was right. It was time to get Malfoy once and for all.

"I've got two galleons says it makes his head explode."

"You're crazy. Fred and George are evil bastards, but they wouldn't kill anybody. Not on purpose, at any rate."

"Well, what do you think it will do then?"

"I'm leaning towards unholy stench. They're awfully good at that."

"What? Stinking?"

"Well, yeah. Or making other things stink."

"I think it'll be some sort of disfiguration though. Maybe turning him neon pink with flowers all over."

"Maybe it'll turn him into a girl!"

Harry glanced up at that point to raise an eyebrow at Ron and Dor who were cackling mischievously over the little blue vial from Fred and George. "Don't we have enough gender confused students already?" he asked.

Dor winked at him.

Harry sighed. "I'm not so sure this is a good idea. What if it really does make his head explode, or turn purple or something?"

"Harry," Ron said patiently, "do you want to get back at Malfoy or not?" He shook the little vial in Harry's face. "This potion is our best chance to get him without getting caught. Whatever it is."

Harry scowled. "Whatever it is, it won't be bad enough. Not by half."

Dor frowned. "What'd he do that's got your knickers in such a twist? I mean, after five years, I wouldn't think his taunts would bother you any more."

Harry shook his head, not wanting to talk about it.

Hermione appeared at the bottom of the stairs to the girls' dormitories, her arms loaded with an enormous stack of books. Ron quickly pocketed the vial.

"Ix-nay on the ial-vay around ermione-Hay," he hissed.

Dor rolled his eyes. "That's brilliant Ron. She'll never crack that code." But he was silent as Hermione approached.

"What are all those for?" Harry asked, standing and grabbing a few books from Hermione's stack. She smiled at him gratefully.

"Oh, just some extra research I've been doing because of... Well." She looked away. "Just some extra research."

Harry frowned as he followed the others out of the portrait hole and down towards the Great Hall. He had hoped that Hermione and the others had got over the shock of hearing the prophecy by now and would soon come back to their senses. There was nothing they could do to help, and by trying, they would likely only get themselves killed.

Harry took a deep breath and resisted the urge to toss Hermione's books in the lake. If it made her feel better to do hours of pointless research, who was he to judge?

Once in the Great Hall, Hermione took a seat farther down the table and spread her books out around her. "Sorry, no time to talk," she explained. "I've got much too much to do..."

"Just as well," Ron whispered, deliberately taking a seat with a clear view of Malfoy, who was sitting at the Slytherin table on the opposite side of the room.

"How are we going to do this?" Harry asked, beginning to feel the anticipation building in his stomach. "I mean, how are we going to get it into his food?" He glanced up at Ron. "We are agreed that it's supposed to go in his food, aren't we?"

"We'll just levitate it over there and dump it in," Ron said, drawing his wand and pushing up the sleeves of his robes. "I'll aim for his drink."

Harry put out a hand to stop him. "Don't you think it will look a little odd, a vial floating around by itself?" he asked. "Use your head, Ron. Nobody can know it was us, or we'll be serving detentions for McGonagall until we're thirty."

Ron frowned, but Harry had an idea.

"Leave it to me," he said, drawing his own wand. Harry held out his hand for the vial, which Ron passed to him, reluctantly.

He concentrated for a moment, then tapped the top of the vial with his wand. Nothing happened.

"Brilliant," Ron said sarcastically.

"Got any better ideas?" Harry retorted.

"Merlin's beard you two are hopeless," Dor said with a snigger. "What were you trying to do to it, Harry? Poke a hole in it?"

Harry frowned. "I was trying to disillusion it." Dor grinned smugly again and Harry narrowed his eyes in concentration and tapped the vial again. This time, however, he watched as a sort of silvery liquid flowed over the vial, and where the liquid had been, the vial suddenly wasn't.

"Woah!" Ron whispered, well impressed.

Harry grinned, handing the now invisible vial back to him. As the vial moved, however, Harry could see where the edges of it were blurred slightly.

"No one should notice it now," he said triumphantly.

Ron concentrated on the disillusioned vial and yanked the stopper out.

"Don't spill any!" Harry cautioned.

He nodded. Still concentrating, he pointed his wand at the invisible vial and said, "Mobiliarbus."

"Hi guys," Gwyn said cheerfully, taking a seat on the bench next to Harry. All three boys jumped. Ron grimaced, then shoved his wand under the table, pretending to be very interested in his dinner plate as he continued guiding the vial.

"Hi!" Harry said quickly, trying to keep Gwyn's attention away from Ron. "How are you?"

Gwyn gave him a curious look as she started dishing food onto her plate. "Fine. And I was fine when you saw me after Potions, twenty minutes ago." She smiled at him amusedly. "How are you Dor? What do you think of our illustrious Potions Master?"

"What?" Dor asked, tearing his eyes away from Ron. "Oh, Snape? He's a git."

Gwyn smiled. "That seems to be the general consensus." She glanced at Dor, then at Harry inquiringly. "Aren't you guys going to eat anything?"

"Oh! Right!" Harry said, fully aware that his voice was too loud. He grabbed the nearest bowl and began dishing brussels sprouts onto his plate. Ron's tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Suddenly, his shoulders relaxed and he took a deep breath.

"Done," he whispered out of the side of his mouth. "I put it in his drink. I think."

Harry glared at him in disbelief. "You think?" he hissed. "Where's the empty vial?"

Ron shrugged. "I wonder how long we'll have to wai--"

Suddenly, the group of Slytherins sitting around Malfoy began to laugh.

"What's going on?" Harry asked. Ron shook his head.

"I can't see!" Dor complained, craning his neck. "Has it started?"

"Has what started?" Gwyn asked, looking confused.

Malfoy was apparently talking, and the Slytherins were all laughing at what he was saying, but he was still his normal color, and his head was still its normal size. He started to stand up.

"I don't think that's it..." Harry said. "Is it?"

The Hufflepuffs sitting behind Malfoy also began laughing. Several were turning around in their seats to stare at him, as he very calmly stood up on the bench. He had not stopped talking

"...dresses until I was three..."

"Louder!" a burly seventh year Slytherin called. "We can't hear you, Malfoy!"

"I still sleep with a night light," Malfoy replied, obligingly, in a much louder voice. As the volume increased, however, Harry heard something odd in his tone. It wasn't the self-confident drawl Malfoy usually spoke with. Half the students in the hall had stopped to snicker and stare.

"I think it's started," Ron said with an evil grin.

"What is he doing?" Gwyn asked.

"What else, Malfoy?" Theodore Nott jeered. "Tell us another!"

"I'm afraid of house elves," Malfoy replied in the same eerie sing-song voice. A roar of laughter followed. Someone from the Hufflepuff table threw a brussels sprout at him. It struck Malfoy in the leg, but he never even flinched.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, hurrying up the table from where she'd been working.

"Louder, Malfoy!" the same seventh year demanded. "On the table, where everyone can see you!"

Malfoy turned and stepped up onto the Slytherin table, one foot planted firmly in his roast beef. "I've been taking dancing lessons since I was ten," he shouted.

Ron began to snicker into his hand. Dor was smirking appreciatively across the room. Hermione and Gwyn still looked rather confused.

Now that he was facing them, Harry could see that Malfoy's expression was utterly blank, his eyes glazed and unfocused as he spoke. It made Harry uncomfortable to watch.

"Mister Malfoy!" Professor Snape was striding down from the high table wearing an expression he generally reserved for the likes of Harry and Neville.

Malfoy turned to look Snape directly in the eye and shouted, "I cheat on my History of Magic exams."

Professor Snape stopped in his tracks, looking dumbfounded. "Get down from there at once, and stop behaving like a fool," he ordered.

Malfoy stepped down onto the bench, taking half of his dinner with him and said, "I wet the bed until I was nine," right to Snape's face.

Ron exploded with laughter, along with most of the hall. He doubled over, rocking back and forth on the bench. Harry, too, began to laugh despite his misgivings. Hermione narrowed her eyes at them.

"Did you do this?" she demanded.

"I failed Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Malfoy roared, still apparently trying to be heard over the din in the Hall. Professor McGonagall was now also out of her seat and headed towards the Slytherin table.

"Finite incantatem!" Snape incanted, pointing his wand at Malfoy. Malfoy merely blinked blankly at him.

"I asked Gwendolyn Griffiths four times for a date, and she turned me down."

Harry immediately stopped laughing. "What?" he blurted, turning to Gwyn. Her face had gone brilliantly red as half of the student body looked away from Malfoy and turned to stare at her. "You never told me he--"

"It wasn't any of your business," she retorted angrily.

Harry realized that things were getting quickly out of hand.

"Silencio!" Professor McGonagall said, trying to stem the flow of confessions from Malfoy's mouth as Professor Snape dragged him down off of the bench.

"My father is in prison!" Malfoy barked, undeterred.

"Wow," Ron giggled, wiping tears from his eyes. "It's better than I ever dreamed."

"I knew it!" Hermione exclaimed. "This is because you gave him that potion Fred and George sent you, isn't it?"

"Keep your voice down, Hermione," Harry hissed.

"Wait," Gwyn said turning to look at him. "You did this?"

"I--" Harry began.

"Is it Veritiserum?" Hermione demanded.

Dor shook his head. "Veritiserum wouldn't have him just shouting his head off like that. You have to ask someone specific questions with that."

"Not to mention it's illegal," Ron said, his mirth turning quickly to worry. "The lads wouldn't send us something illegal -- would they?"

Snape was dragging Malfoy out of the Hall by one arm, but Malfoy was still shouting. People from different houses began to clap and catcall as he left.

"Encore!" someone shouted.

"I attacked Gwendolyn in the courtyard after Halloween," Malfoy's voice boomed as Snape dragged him towards the doors. Snape paused, despite himself.

"What?" he demanded, staring at Malfoy.

"I snuck up behind her, grabbed her, and cast a silencing spell and a binding charm. Then I..."

Snape's eyes widened as he listened. He gave Malfoy a rough shove on the shoulder and the door slammed shut behind them.

The raucous cheering in the Hall dropped off sharply, replaced by nervous laughter, muttering, and the almost-audible swish of heads snapping around to stare at Gwyn. Her face had suddenly gone very pale, her eyes wide. Harry felt his own mouth drop open in horror.

Across the room, Professor McGonagall had rounded up Nott and the loud mouthed seventh year and had directed them to follow Professor Snape. At Malfoy's words, however, she turned sharply and started walking straight for the Gryffindor table, quieting the few remaining pockets of jeering as she passed. Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick stood from their seats at the high table and began to make their way over as well.

"Oh no," Gwyn whispered, shaking her head slightly. "Oh no, no, no, no, no..." She turned to stare at Harry. "How could you?"

"I didn't know it would--" Harry began.

"Miss Griffiths," Professor Flitwick squeaked, reaching them first. "Miss Griffiths, is this true?"

"I..." Gwyn seemed to lose her voice midstream. She lowered her head and stared at the table in front of her.

"I suggest we discuss this somewhere less public," Professor Dumbledore suggested, coming up behind her. "My office, Fillius?" Professor Flitwick nodded and hurried towards the doors.

Gwyn looked around helplessly, then stood to follow the headmaster out of the Hall, hundreds of eyes still watching her every move.

Harry watched her go, a hard pit of guilt forming in his stomach as conversation slowly returned to normal in the Hall. If he had been worried about what Gwyn would think when she found out that Ron and Hermione knew about the attack, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now that the whole school knew.

"What do you suppose they'll do..." Dor said, turning to look at Harry. He froze, mid-sentence when he saw the look on Harry's face. "You knew..."

"Shhh!" Ron hissed as Professor McGonagall strode up to them. They all looked up at her as she stared down at them, hands on her hips.

"I don't suppose any of you would happen to know what compelled Mr. Malfoy to put on such a display, would you?" she asked icily.

Ron shrugged, trying to look innocent and failing badly.

"Because," Professor McGonagall continued, narrowing her eyes at him, "I would hate to find out that this was some joke shop experiment gone awry."

Ron quickly lowered his head to study his roast beef. McGonagall's eyes flicked over to Harry who felt quite sure he couldn't have looked any guiltier if he'd tried, then to Dor who was smiling genially, and finally to Hermione who had taken out a book and was staring at it diligently. She huffed.

"I would like to remind you," she said sharply, "that one of the tenets of Gryffindor house is honour." She looked around at each of them. "And that this spectacle tonight was as far from that ideal as it is possible to be." She turned and strode briskly out of the hall.

Ron sighed with relief as he began to tuck in to his dinner at last.

"I don't know what you look so smug about," Hermione whispered fiercely. "They're bound to figure out who did it."

Ron shrugged. "It was worth it. Malfoy'll never live this down."

"Neither will Gwyn," Harry added blackly. "I knew I shouldn't have let you convince me to do this without asking what the potion would do."

Ron set his fork down forcefully and turned to face Harry. "I didn't have to do very much convincing, you know. Besides, this is just getting him back for everything he's ever done to us, plus what he did to Gwyn."

"Harry," Dor said quietly, "what exactly did he do to Gwyn?"

Harry scowled and pushed his plate away. He was no longer hungry.

"Still think I'm going to tell?" Dor asked testily.

Harry sighed. "It's not that," he insisted. "It's just that she made me promise not to say anything about it."

"Bit late for that," Ron observed. "I'll tell it if you like."

Harry glared at Ron, then glanced back at Dor, who was still waiting for an answer. "He caught her alone in a courtyard and he..." Harry couldn't find the words. He swallowed hard as a fresh wave of revulsion passed over him like a cold sweat.

"He kissed her against her will," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "It's as much as sexual assault." Dor's head swung around and he gaped at her.

"Hermione," Harry sighed. He wanted to say that was a bit strong, but realized belatedly that it was actually quite accurate.

Hermione nodded at Dor. "He pinned her against a wall, tied her hands, and kissed her. And she kicked him in the groin to get away."

Ron snorted and Hermione shot him a dangerous look. "It isn't funny, Ron," she said coldly. "How would you feel if that happened to someone close to you? How would you feel if it was Ginny we were talking about? Or me for that matter?"

Ron faltered. His face went pale. "You're right," he said solemnly. "It isn't funny. Harry, why haven't you hexed him into oblivion yet?"

Harry sighed heavily. "Because she told me not to," he said despondently. "Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind."

"That little prick," Dor growled, gripping his fork tightly. "That rat! That hippogriff's arse!" He pointed the fork menacingly at Harry. "Why didn't you tell Dumbledore if you knew all this time?"

"Because she made me promise not to!" he repeated, angrily. "It was an accident that I found out about it in the first place. You think this was my decision? You think I like it that my girlfriend was attacked? NO!" He realized he was beginning to yell and took a deep breath. "I hate Malfoy for what he did," he said in a low voice. "But I... I care about Gwyn more."

Hermione gave him an appraising look. "That's very mature of you, Harry," she said. Ron frowned.

"Well," Dor said, his eyes still blazing angrily, "you were absolutely right about one thing, Harry. That little exhibition was not punishment enough for what he's done. Not by half."