Chapter 6
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Harry could talk to snakes. He figured this out a long time ago, even before he knew magic existed. But he wasn't aware there was such a stigma about the ability in this world. Harry actually believed it was a common skill among witches and wizards. Then he reminded himself once again why to colour of his tie wasn't blue. He was oblivious. It was a fact he accepted about himself by now.

Though, really. It would've been more helpful if he had known this already. Maybe that way, he could've stopped himself from blurting out foreign hissing sounds in front of the entire student body.

Bad timing really. With all the rumours going around about the Heir of Slytherin, by exposing himself as parseltongue, he was basically announcing himself as a murderer.

People kept whispering and mumbling behind his back. Some resorting to even hiss at him in the corridors. He noted how his own Common Room would go quiet when he stepped foot in, talking in hush voices, most probably about how he planned on continuing the legacy of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Harry sunk deeper into his chair, drowning out the sounds. He tried to not pay attention to them, but that was hard to do when the whispers followed him everywhere around the castle. It made him wonder if he really did belong in Slytherin, after all.

And then there was that voice. The one he heard right before someone was attacked. Harry was starting to believe he was losing it.

He tried to pay attention to his assigned reading instead. Ron sat close to him, glaring at anyone who would even dare to look in their direction. But even he couldn't stop the whispers.

Harry couldn't really make out the words properly, and he didn't think it was worth the effort, until he heard a familiar name, catching his attention.

"Maybe it's Adhara Black influencing him."

Harry scowled. He leaned back, listening more closely.

"It would make sense, wouldn't it? She is dark after all."

Harry slowly reached for the pocket of his wand. He wasn't going to take it out, but knowing it was within reach brought him comfort.

"Of course it's her! Don't you know what family she's from? She is surely using some sort of Slytherin manipulating technique to get him to do her bidding! Putting all the blame on poor Harry!"

Ron must've caught on to the conversation too because he put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Are you kidding? She wouldn't waste so much effort on him. Reckon she's the one behind all this!"

"She must be! A Pureblood and a Slytherin, who else could it be?"

Harry stood up, bumping into a table as a result. The chair rustled backwards and Harry walked straight up to the Gryffindors in question. They were a few years above him, older and way taller. They could beat him if they wanted to.

But Harry didn't seem to care.

His hand folded into his robes as he addressed them. "Adhara is not the heir. She isn't even a pureblood, which you would know if you knew how to use that brain of yours."

The Gryffindor stared at him, startled by his appearance at first but even more by the insult. It took them a while to register it, but Harry continued before they had the chance to speak up.

"Did you only recently start paying attention to rumours? Or do they only interest you when your own petty opinions benefit from it?"

They got up from their seat, ready to put the kid back in his place, but it seemed like Harry knew what was coming next—it always took Dudley a few seconds to understand his insults, giving him the perfect opportunity to escape—because the minute the older student even started to speak, he bolted out of the room.

Harry had no plans on coming back to the dorms that day. But that was fine. He'll sleep in a bathroom tonight if he had to.

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Adhara was there during the dual when Harry started speaking to the snake. She wanted to say she was surprised, but honestly, at this point, the boy could tell her Merlin himself lived under his bed, and she'd believe it.

He was basically a danger magnet.

She rolled her eyes when the incident happened, and then walked straight back to her dormitories.

The rumours spiralled after that. There were still those who thought Malfoy or even herself was the Heir. There were also the most delusional ones who believed she was somehow mind-controlling Harry. How they expected a twelve-year-old to obtain the magical abilities required to perform such a feat, she would never know. Obviously, they were so blinded by their own prejudiced views that they started to act stupid.

And then there were the ones who believed it was Harry Potter.

Which Adhara thought was the most absurd one. Did they not know he defeated Voldemort last year? It didn't make sense. People really did lose their ability to think properly when they heard juicy gossip. No matter how ridiculous it was.

She's been avoiding Harry ever since their conversation at the Hospital Wing. Which might seem childish, but he was also doing the same, so she couldn't be blamed entirely. Adhara presumed the fight was partly her fault; she really did not need to bring up the whole 'boy-who-lived' ordeal. She knew how much he hated when people assumed he was spoiled.

But then again, he was the one making assumptions based only on House prejudice and that annoyed her. So she didn't want to speak to him.

That didn't mean she liked to hear the rumours about him.

A second-year named Ernie MacMillan was spreading the worst ones. Going as far as to say Harry was starting a sort of Death Eater ring with the help of Slytherins. He was another Hufflepuff. Honestly, she didn't understand what the House had against Harry.

MacMillan spoke animatedly to his circle of listeners at the Great Hall. Harry, Hermione and Weasley were nowhere to be seen—probably hiding from all the whispers—which gave the Hufflepuff the boost he needed to talk louder.

They didn't notice her apparently. Maybe it was because she was able to blend into the crowd easily. Whereas Harry attracted attention to himself wherever he stepped foot, with his name and his scar, Adhara was able to do the opposite. If anyone mentioned Adhara Black appeared on the scene, she was able to hide away even before they spotted her.

It was quite a handy skill.

The Slytherin table was close to the Hufflepuff one, and unfortunately for MacMillan, she sat only a few seats away.

He didn't know she was there, working on her homework whilst trying to drown out the rest of the loud students. But MacMillan next words caught her attention.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to become the next Dark Lord and kill all muggleborns."

Adhara clenched her fingers into a fist. She was angry with Harry. She was angry that he let prejudice and rumours cloud his judgement. But that didn't mean she was going to stand still whilst people spoke nasty things behind his back. It didn't make sense that people thought he was the heir. She didn't like that they did.

A Hufflepuff student with short black hair and blue gloves bent closer to him. "Do you really think it might be him?"

"Of course! He's evil, I tell you! He must've been planning this all of last year too!"

Adhara stood up from her spot, slamming her textbook onto the table as loudly as possible. The sound reverberated throughout the hall, catching everyone's attention. MacMillan snapped around and blanched at her sight, realizing she had heard everything he spurred.

Adhara wasn't Harry, she wasn't afraid to take her wand out. But she also wasn't foolish enough to point it at a student in front of all these witnesses. She slammed the wand onto the table instead, creating another echo. It was in perfect view of the Hufflepuffs.

MacMillan saw it.

Adhara didn't say anything. She didn't have to. The threat was as clear as day. And if he didn't understand, she would gladly show it.

MacMillan dared to peek at her face, and Adhara noticed how the pupil of his eyes turned smaller out of fear.

She clasped her hand around her wand, lifting it a bit. It was enough to make the boy jump out of his seat.

Her hand was still frozen in its spot, only a few centimetres above the table as her eyes followed him scamper out of the Hall, not looking back once.

The rest of the student body watched her put her wand back in her robes. She silently went back to her work, acting as if the last few minutes never happened. Completely ignoring the blue gloves wearing Hufflepuff who desperately wanted to talk to her.

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Ron was still nervous around the Black Lake. After the second time he fell in it last year, he hadn't stepped foot anywhere near ten meters of the lake.

"Ron, come on. You won't fall if you're careful. Stop being a sissy!"

"Oi! I'm not afraid of water."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, you're just scared of the lake. Now hurry!"

They've been trying to get a bit more close each week, and so far it worked well. Except for the fact that Ron was being unusually hesitant today.

"What's wrong? This isn't much closer than last time."

"No-nothing, let's just sit here today."

Harry sighed but complied anyway. They dumped their book bag onto the grass. He took his time to properly check over his friend.

"It's only water, Ron."

"Cold and dirty water. And I can also drown in it."

"You can swim."

"I-I know."

"It's only water."

"Yeah." Ron took a deep breath. "Yeah, you're right. It's only the Black lake. I'll get over it by the end of the year."

"I didn't know you were afraid of water."

"I'm not. It was only because I fell in it. I grew up in the countryside, it'd be embarrassing if I was afraid of water."

Harry snorted. He was remembering that day Ron ran out of the bathroom when he spotted a spider.

"And yet you're terrified of spiders."

"With good reason, that! Have you seen how ugly and disgusting one looks!? With all its legs and eyes and-" he shivered at the thought.

"But they're so small!"

"Yeah, but there are millions of them. And do you know what an acromantula is?!"

Harry shook his head.

"They're these giant spiders that feed on human flesh! I don't know what I'd do if I ever encounter one."

Harry laughed. "So spiders."

"Spiders."

"But not the Black Lake?"

"Not the Black Lake."

"Brilliant."

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"You're doing what?"

"We-well Harry said you didn't want to give us the password, so we came up with another plan..."

They decided to find themselves a spot on the grounds somewhere that weekend. The library was great and all, but they could never talk properly there. Millie laid on her elbow, her legs touching 'Mione's back. Adhara was distantly aware of her presence, but all her attention was currently on her bushy-haired friend.

She couldn't say anything. 'Mione accidentally let it slip that the other two boys and she were trying to put together a polyjuice potion to spy on Malfoy.

It wasn't really the fact that they suspected him that bothered Adhara. It was the fact that the only reason they did was because he was Slytherin. They might as well suspect Millie and her at this point.

She wasn't too surprised to hear this from Ron, nor Harry. But to hear this from Hermione as well had disappointed her greatly.

"Are Millie and I next on your list of suspects then?"

Hermione's eyes went wide. Even Millie sat up.

"You aren't being fair, Adhara."

She didn't bother to answer the blonde, keeping her eyes on Hermione. But Millie continued to speak.

"I mean it is possible for it to be Malfoy, no?"

She clenched her fists. "Give her the password, then, if you're so sure."

And with that, she got up and left.

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Dumbledore was a strange man, Harry decided. He somehow always spoke in riddles, wore clothes that made the rest of wizarding getup look almost muggle-normal, and, for some reason, had a bird in his office that died and then came back to life.

Harry thought the last part was quite cool actually. Strange, but cool nonetheless. He just couldn't put together why exactly he needed a Phoenix. Maybe he'll tell him later?

Dumbledore was a strange man. Brilliant, but strange. And not to mention absolutely irritating. Like would it kill him to make sense from time to time?

"I must ask you, Harry. Is there anything you would like to tell me? Anything at all?"

Like, what the hell is that supposed to mean? He was clearly suspicious about something. Not him apparently since he seemed to believe Harry wasn't the heir. Though, if there was something else he wanted to know, shouldn't he just ask him clearly?

Harry thought back about the hissing he heard right before someone got attacked. He thought about the jeers people threw at him, and the whispers that followed him everywhere he went. But nothing he really wanted to share with an adult.

"No," said Harry, "nothing at all."

The Headmaster's eyes squinted at him. He clearly wasn't convinced. "Nothing." He shuffled closer to his desk and took a seat, offering Harry a biscuit, which the second-year politely declined.

"Why don't I ask you a few questions about your friends, then? I see you've become quite close with Miss Black over the course of the year. I can't say I wasn't surprised."

Harry's head tilted to the side, his glasses slipping down his nose. The question threw him off. He hadn't expected for Adhara to be the topic of their conversation.

"Umm, yeah? We figured out we had the same godfather, s'all."

Dumbledore froze. "You know about Sirius Black?"

"Yeah? Sna- Professor Snape mentioned him at some point last year, and Adhara told me everything else."

The older man seemed somewhat displeased about this new information.

"Why?" asked Harry. He wasn't liking where the conversation was going.

"Now, my boy. I don't want you to misunderstand me. I wasn't planning on telling you about your godfather so soon—"

"What? Why not?"

"We-well. With the hand he had in your parents' unfortunate demise, I thought it prudent to inform you only when you're much older. You are merely 12 years old, after all."

Harry looked down at his feet, hiding the anger that was most likely showing on his face.

"I'm glad I found out. I have the right to know." He kept his eyes down, so he couldn't see what kind of face the Headmaster was making at the moment.

"Very well, Harry. If that's how you feel. Although, I must say, it only makes matters more puzzling for me, as I don't seem to understand how, or more precisely, why that makes you friends with Miss Black."

Harry's head snapped up. He narrowed his eyes at the statement. "What exactly do you mean, sir?"

"Please don't misunderstand, I'm only trying to look out for you. Your parents were very close friends of mine, Harry, please remember that. After all, Miss Black is the niece of the man who caused their death. I was merely wondering why-"

"Adhara is nothing like her family." He didn't bother hiding his expression anymore. He spoke firmly and bit louder than he wanted to, but then again, Harry's never been able to hide his emotions very well. "She's a very good friend."

Dumbledore's mouth stayed open for a minute. "I-I," he sighed, defeated. "Very well, Harry. I will trust your judgment."

"I think you should," he stated. He looked back at the door. "May I go back now, sir?"

Dumbledore could only nod.

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Adhara wasn't sure how, but she somehow manages to gain not one, but two stalkers this year. Both of whom were first-year students.

The first one, and the one she spotted the most, was none other than Roisin Han. The short-haired 11-year-old always seemed to be in the library whenever Adhara was planning on going. The Hufflepuff figured out that if she sat at Adhara's usual table, then she was most likely to leave before even stepping foot into the room. So Roisin now stayed at another table, hidden amongst the ocean of yellow who all seemed to be her friends.

She tried to approach her on some occasions, trying to start up a conversation with the one person who was familiar to her. But Adhara managed to avoid all interactions.

Her other stalker was drastically different from Roisin. She wore a different colour tie, had different hair, and she was also way more difficult to spot.

The reoccurring noise of dragging feet that trailed Adhara made her suspicious. Adhara only managed to catch Ginny Weasley follow her a couple of times, and yet each time, it somehow felt like the redhead already knew she was looking in her direction.

She couldn't figure out how Weasley managed to do that. Her cryptic behaviour becoming more and more strange over the past weeks. Adhara tried to look for her at the Great Hall sometimes, but the girl somehow always knew when she did because her eyes lifted to make contact with Adhara's every time.

Adhara grew more perplexed.

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Harry couldn't believe he was thinking this, but he was actually glad Oliver decided to keep up with practice. With the Quidditch season being cancelled, this was the only chance he had to fly. He found the feeling of wind in his hair and the rush of adrenaline he got whenever he looked down and saw his feet dangle high in the air quite calming. Which should be an oxymoron in itself, but at the moment, it made him forget all his other worries. It felt like nothing else mattered.

But then they cancelled Quidditch. And the reason behind the cancellation was what worried him.

He watched Angelina fly past one of the twins, making her way towards the hoops, but before she could score, Oliver raised his hand, making the entire team halt.

He pointed towards the stands. Although matches were cancelled, some still came in to watch the practices. Hermione and Ron were in the stands, and so was Ginny.

And on the ground, near the stands, Harry spotted a group of green-wearing players approach.

His expression turned sour as he followed his captain down.

Flint marched up to Oliver. "The field's ours, Wood. We've got a slip." He flicked the piece of paper towards his face.

Oliver caught it before it could hit him. Harry watched him scan the parchment before sporting a disappointed expression.

Harry turned his attention back on the Slytherins again, his eyes catching Malfoy who was already looking at him.

His eyes narrowed. "I see your father bought out favours again from the staff."

"It isn't a sin to use one's money as one pleases," Malfoy announced. He wasn't even denying it. "Something you blood traitors won't understand."

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron and Hermione join him. He kept his gaze on the blond, however.

"I see you still keep the mudblood around," his head tilted to the side. Smirking, he continued, "is it to keep the rumours under control?"

The rest of the team laughed. Harry took a step forward, but Oliver put his arm in front of his torso, stopping him.

Malfoy kept laughing, shaking his head. But his eyes showed no sign of mirth. "Harry Potter, the heir of Slytherin? How insulting. You don't even have the guts."

Harry's jaw locked into place, his teeth rubbing against each other. "You-"

"Enough" came from his side. Oliver kept his eyes fixed on Flint. "I understand this might be a difficult feat for you, but let's not act like children, shall we?" His mouth twisted into a tight-lipped smile, but his words were dripped in venom. "Or are you going to let a second-year order you around, Captain?"

Flint gave him a sharp look, but he somehow looked more upset than angry. He opened his mouth to retort, but Malfoy beat him to it.

"I wasn't speaking with you, Wood. Learn to know where you stand."

Oliver kept his gaze a second longer on Flint before sparring Malfoy a glance. He retracted his arm from Harry and muttered an "I saw nothing," under his breath.

But before Harry could do anything, Malfoy jabbed two fingers in his shoulder. "How embarrassing it is that people think you're the Heir." He jabbed him again, pushing him backwards. "You, who are nothing but a blood-traitor and a mere half-blood."

He went on to push him once more, but Harry caught his hand, keeping him in place. That didn't stop Malfoy from continuing his speech. "When do you think they'll come for your mudblood? Not soon enough, huh?"

That was it for Harry. He thought he kept his cool quite well, but this really was the last straw. He drew his arm back, making the blond flinch, but before he hit him, someone else landed a punch right his jaw. Malfoy fell back on the ground.

Harry heard a gasp from behind him and assumed it was Hermione. He looked up and saw Ron standing right above the git. He thought the rest of the Slytherin team would retaliate, but Flint put a hand up, stopping them.

Malfoy stared wide-eyed at Ron, holding a hand to his left cheek. "You-you freak!"

Harry's fingers flinched at the insult.

"How dare you! Wait till my father hears about this!"

Ron was about to launch at him again, but Hermione stopped him.

Harry spoke to Malfoy. "Yeah? Make sure to ask him for an ointment then cause that's gonna leave a mark."

"You!" He scrambled up, meaning to dive towards the bespectacled boy, but Oliver intervened again. He grabbed the blond's arm, pulling him away.

"I said enough. You came here to practice, no? So do it."  He used his broom to push the blond out of his way and towards the rest of the Slytherin team. Oliver walked away from the scene, slapping the slip of paper into Flint's chest on his way.

Harry, Hermione and Ron followed suit. Ron was still glaring daggers at Malfoy, and Hermione kept her hand around his elbow, keeping him away.

Harry walked behind them until a shocking flash of red hair caught his attention, stopping him in his track. He glanced upwards and noticed Ginny Weasley beside the field. She kept her eyes on the group of Slytherins, away from Harry and the rest of her house. A leather-bound journal was tightly clasped at her chest. For a moment, she froze and dunked her head down before hurriedly scurrying away.

Harry's brows furrowed. She never looked in his direction, never even looked at him at all. And yet, somehow, it felt like she knew he was watching her.

Harry shook his head. He was surely overthinking this. That wasn't possible, right?

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