Harry Potter and the Wyvern's Crown

Chapter 19: Confession

Every step he took towards the duel, Gregory was growing more anxious. He knew that Stephan was quite mad, and even though it had only been an upstanding joke, his eyes over the past few weeks had become all the more serious when it came to matters about Bethany. The young witch from a pure-blooded wizard family had become Gregory's girl, much to the chagrin of Stephan, who had desired her and perused her relentlessly. Plus there was the added stress that being head boy of the darkest house brought. After all, all students at Hogwarts were allowed on special permission to study the dark arts in their last year, in order to fully understand how to defend against them, but Stephan had changed. Yes, Gregory knew now. Stephan was different. He had embraced the darkspells, learnt them well, used them liberally. His Parseltongue, while not discouraged, had become his constant trait, and the snakes he owned, even the little silver devil he could become, were little more than his eyes and ears on the rest of the school. And even before Bethany became an issue, his over-ambition had been ruining the already touchy relationship they had from the get go. Slytherin folk were the least trustworthy of individuals, and Gregory wondered how his great, great grandfather had ever dealt with the original.

* * *

Harry woke irritably, with Gregory's thoughts still ringing through his mind. It was not long after that he missed Raven. Of course, they no longer had potions together, but she was missing from the breakfast table, and lunch as well. She wasn't in her usual haunts, and though several people swore they had seen her, no one could quite say where or when. In fact, Harry was going all the more certain that the study date he had late the night before had been the last time anyone had seen her.

He shook his head, and the notion away, but in doing so, was caught up in the stress of Gregory's preparation for his duel with the insane Slytherin Head boy from generations ago. This girl, Bethany had been the whole trouble, like Raven was for he and Draco. Only Raven had shown feelings for them both. But it was obvious that Raven liked him and not Malfoy, and by the way Malfoy acted with Oriana, it was just as easy to see that the Slytherin Seeker had gotten over Raven just as easily. But Raven's absence was wearing on Harry.

There was only one other place he hadn't bothered to go, but being as she wasn't fond of COMC since the Mysticats had gone, he hadn't considered it. He wrapped his cloak more firmly around himself and jogged out to Hagrid's little lodge. He saw a tall blond figure looking in the window as he approached. Malfoy turned on his heel, and with a sneer, called out, 'No one's home, Potter, so go away.'

Harry made a face. 'Really? Then you won't mind me taking a look, will you?'

Draco's nose wrinkled but he let Harry pass, allowing the shorter boy to see through the window. Oddly enough, Malfoy had told the truth. Harry frowned, and addressed the other boy without turning. 'Why were you out here?'

'Doing the same as you, I expect.'

Harry smiled ironically. 'Oh really? And what would that be?'

'Looking for Raven.'

Harry whirled and as he did, he caught a flash of pain in his scar to sudden he dropped to his knees, certain he was bleeding, or that he had somehow concussed himself. He gasped for air when he felt someone shaking his arms, shouting at him to snap out of it. Harry threw up. And just like that, the pain was only a lingering memory.

'Oh, bloody. Great!' Malfoy was scuffing his boot in the snow, 'You puked on my shoe, you pathetic...'

Harry rubbed his scar and winced at the foul scent of his own vomit. 'I'm sorry...'

Malfoy crossed his arms, his lip twitching in disgust, 'DO you know where she is?'

Harry shook his head, 'Why are...' he touched his scar recalling the pain there. 'Why are you looking for her, Malfoy?'

'Because she wasn't in potions this morning, and since we're partners, I have to give her her homework. I suppose you'd rather I not give it to her, and certainly I'd get a better mark I did it for her, but I figured I'd find her quickly and get it over and done with,' He looked up in the air, then shivered, 'So why are you out here?'

'I'm looking for my girlfriend,' Harry said and stood slowly. He was on his guard now. He'd never felt the presence of Voldemort so clearly before. He saw no one but Malfoy. His mind snapped to the conclusion of polyjuice potion, and just as quickly his hand danced towards his wand. He paused, 'Malfoy...'

'What?' the taller boy snarled, his eyes watching Harry's hand.

Harry put it down at his side, 'What did Professor Moody turn you into?' Draco wrinkled his nose, not willing to answer.

'I beg your pardon,' he hissed at last.

'Just humour me.'

'A ferret,' Draco growled. 'A white one.'

Harry allowed himself to relax. The two boys regarded each other for a moment more before Malfoy spoke. 'What was that for?'

'I needed to know you were actually yourself.'

Draco snorted a cloud of fog into the air. 'Myself.' The word was filled with an unexpected bitterness.

Confused, Harry addressed it. 'Yes, yourself. Any reason why that would bother you?'

Draco narrowed his eyes. There dark silence held the air. Harry shivered, looking at his rival. There was something more to this than petty jealousy. Something more than foolish house rivalry. Something that Draco, for some reason, was dying to tell Harry, but felt he couldn't for the sake of his ego. And his pride.

'Tell me, Malfoy.'

Draco turned, harsh. 'Leave me alone...'

Harry felt his cheeks flush. 'Tell me!' he demanded, mostly out of anger.

'Can't you just leave off?' Malfoy snapped, 'I suppose you don't know what it's like living your life like a fraud, Potter.' On seeing Harry's face, Draco's lip curled further. 'No, you wouldn't, would you?'

'What on earth are you talking about?'

Draco spoke his mind bitterness in his voice, 'You had two wonderful Gryffindor parents, who at least on your father side probably go back as far as they come. But me? My father's only a sixth generation Slytherin. My mom was the one from the old family. I bet you can guess what that would be,' He flapped his hands mockingly. 'My mom was an idiot Ravenclaw. My father blames her for it every day. Everyday I hear about how Ravenclaws are actually quite stupid, that their blood is poor and how he wished he'd married anything but a Ravenclaw. And I've been on his side about it, living this lie...' He looked at his leather-gloved hands, black. His balled them into fists, his cheeks very pink hiding under the few strands of escaped hair around his face.

'You're a Slytherin, Malfoy...I don't see...'

'No, you wouldn't. That sorting hat only sang you praises, didn't throw your whole world into chaos, did it? You know what I heard when that hat touched my head? 'You would have been perfect for Ravenclaw, but if you must have it your way, then, Slytherin!''

Harry was stunned. His jaw dropped. The hat had been so fast in deciding Malfoy's house, he had been sure that it hadn't even given him an option.

Draco, no longer caring about who he was speaking to, continued, 'ME, the proud son of a top Slytherin, reduced to a mere RAVENCLAW!' He was fuming now. 'I'd almost thought it a joke, could have put it off as a cruel joke of that stupid sorting hat, and I did until I saw myself in that mirror!' He swung a hand in the general direction of the great hall. 'But then you don't understand that. You couldn't! You're the perfect Harry Potter! A perfect bloody lion for his perfect bloody house!' Draco paused, turning his face as though he were ending the conversation, but in truth, and Harry saw that, he was too choked up to continue.

But his words had touched a nerve in Harry, one he wasn't to let Draco get away with, 'Why do you think I wouldn't understand?' He hissed, low, under his breath, 'I know far better than anyone else.'

Draco's eyes narrowed. Harry continued.

'I was supposed to be a Slytherin.'

* * *

Gregory looked at his burly companion. Henry had worry etched across his face. They were standing, waiting. Stephan stepped out of the shadows, a golden snake draped around his neck, he wore diaphanous white robes that shifted uneasily in the still air of the large room. His eyes were sunken, dark. They had an unearthly glow. He spoke to the snake in dark, evil-sounding tones. Gregory attempted to call out the younger boy, convince him that this wasn't right.

'Dearest Stephan! I implore you, do not follow this path to destruction! It is the dark arts thou hast pored over that has corrupted your most nobel nature. You are one of us, one the Wyvern's Crown! I beg thee, return to us!'

'We shall find thee help!' Henry agreed.

The Slytherin's unblinking snake's eyes never left Gregory's.

And he laughed.