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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years ago

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“The Smoking Goblet” || YEAR 3 – Ch.14 (HP au)

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Day posted: 8/25/2020

Word count: 3,776

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Within the month Defense Against Dark Arts class had become every student’s favorite class, and Professor Lupin everyone’s favorite teacher. Even Heather had to give in and accept him as her favorite after he’d let her sneak her way to the back of every line when they practiced with boggarts. She made up for it during their Red Cap lessons, allowing him to use her for demonstrations around the little nasty creatures that liked hanging out wherever blood was spilled.

Draco, however, couldn’t miss a day to snicker behind Professor Lupin’s back about the state of his robes. Most Slytherins friends with Draco would join in on the bullying, but Professor Lupin and most everyone else would just ignore them. No one cared if Professor Lupin’s robes were old and frayed with patches that were coming undone, or that his clothes had little holes at the seams around his shoulders and cuffs.

From Red Caps they moved onto kappas, more creepy creatures except they lived underwater with webbed hands used for strangling those who wandered in their pond. He had brought in a murky tank with a single lilypad floating on top of the muck. The kappa had given Neville a real scare after he’d tapped the glass and woken it up.Everyone had laughed at Neville, but that was nothing compared to the torment he was facing in potions with Professor Snape.

After word had spread about Neville’s boggart, Professor Snape had been judging people’s potions harder than he ever had before. Heather was feeling like a total failure in potions now, and Neville could barely breath with Professor Snape breathing down his neck, making sure he was following the steps exactly as he had written them out.

Professor Snape assigned extra inches to the essays he had been assigning every class time at the mention of Professor Lupin’s name or boggarts in general, except to Draco and his band of loyal Slytherins who very publicly and shamed Professor Lupin at every opportunity.

It was very hard for Heather not to accept Professor Lupin had become her favorite teacher, and Defense Against the Dark Arts her favorite class.

Along with potions, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures were becoming everyone’s least favorite classes. The only people who liked Divination were the very few students who seemed to have ‘the Sight’ for it and constantly joined Professor Trelawney in extra readings and work during breakfast and lunchtime. A couple of Ravenclaws were now giving people readings and few Hufflepuffs giving others friendly warnings. The two Gryffindor girls Heather now knew as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had taken it upon themselves to give Harry advice every now and then to help him with his death omen. Heather found those two particularly annoying, more annoying than the only Slytherin giving out death omens.

Care of Magical Creatures was disliked in a very different way. Everyone who was friendly with Hagrid had to pretend to like learning about the very boring magical creatures known as flobberworms. Ron especially hated the flobberworms, reminding him of the slimy slugs he had upchucked last year after his failed hex.

Before the month of September ended, Draco and Heather received the very wonderful news that they had made it onto their team again. It turned out Marcus was stricter than even Professor Snape when it came to being captain of the Quidditch team. After giving Cassius a chance to try out with the beaters, he’d told him on the spot he didn’t make it and that next time he should ignore any teacher who got in the way of Quidditch.

Unfortunately, this meant Cassius was now extremely mad at Heather and had made a few attempts at cornering her in the common room but she had successfully dodged him and clung onto the unknowing Draco and Pansy for safety.

On the first day of October Marcus had called their first Quidditch team practice, telling them their new schedules and going over new tactics he’d thought of over the summer. Four times a week they met up to practice which just about killed Heather every day. Her muscles were so sore and tired constantly, she was going to bed at Dudley hours.

“No,” she groaned. She had been laying on the grass just outside the locker rooms waiting for Draco to come out.

He was standing over her with his arms crossed telling her to get up. “Let’s go already, Potter.”

She groaned as she sat up and held up her hand for assistance, which of course Draco ignored, choosing instead to nudge her with his foot. She stood and they walked together to the broom shed, talking about the most recent play they had practiced.

“They’ll have a hard time getting around us that way.”

Draco nodded. “The Quidditch cup is easy. We’re already the best in the school. It’s the House Cup that’s hard.” He looked at her with a frown, no doubt thinking about exactly why the House Cup was so hard to earn.

“I don’t control who Dumbledore gives free points to at the end of the year.” The grassy slopes were pushing Heather’s legs to their limit and all she wanted was to collapse on the ground again.

“You can control your stupid brother and his friends. Make sure they don’t do anything heroic that will give them any points.” Draco rubbed is hands together and gave her a sly look, “And I’ll make sure the Gryffindors lose as many points as possible.”

As they reached the castle entrance, Heather’s guilt was eating at her. She didn’t feel very good about being a part of Draco’s plan to lose the Gryffindors their points. It seemed extra mean, but she had stopped telling him off ever since they became ‘friends’ after Cassius tried hexing her in the charms corridor.

“And how will you do that?”

He shrugged. “I’ll think of something.” He slid his sling back on his arm as they went the long way to their common room, down the dungeon stairs passed Professor Snape’s office door.

They turned a corner and Heather almost smacked right into Professor Snape again, making her stumble back. He looked down at her and frowned. She could feel the hatred emanating off him. He looked at Draco and stepped aside.

“Draco, your father has asked me how your arm is doing.”

Draco clutched his arm. “It’s healing up, Sir,” he grinned.

Professor Snape raised his eyebrow, “Still in pain?”

Draco nodded. “It’s hard to reach for the Snitch during practices without feeling how much it hurts,” he pet his arm, “but I power through it.”

Professor Snape gave a slight smile. “How admirable. I’ll let your father know of the lasting damage you’re dealing with.” He frowned at Heather one last time and swept away into his office.

“Why was he coming from the common room?”

Draco shrugged, whispering the password and stepping in. Heather followed and saw the large giddy crowd that had formed around the notice board. Draco pushed people aside and Heather followed close behind him until she could see the paper that had just been pinned up.

The first Hogsmeade visit was October thirty-first all day until dinner time. Her shoulders slumped and she pushed her way back out and sat in one of the cushion puffs by the fire, drawing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. She stared at the fire for a few minutes, trying to think of any way to get permission to go, but none that didn’t involve speaking to Professor Snape.

The next morning she was still moping next to Ron who was also extremely quiet during all of Herbology. She held the puffapod mouths open while he pulled out the pink sacs and handed them to Harry to squeeze the glass beans into Hermione’s wooden pail.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. “How’s Scabbers doing, Ron?”

“He’s hiding under the bed, shaking, after your stupid cat nearly gutted him.” He threw the sac a little too hard, missing Harry’s hand.

The pink sac burst on the floor and the glass beans started sprouting immediately on the little bit of dirt and dust on the floor.

“Weasley!” Professor Sprout cried out. “Clean that up before they grow lips!”

They headed to Transfigurations in silence and were about to line up when Parvati pushed aside a couple of Hufflepuffs to make room for a crying Lavender to come through. She was wiping her tears on her sweater while Seamus walked beside her, nodding at the muffled words she was saying.

Heather followed them as they joined the growing group of concerned Gryffindors around Lavender, Parvati, and Seamus.

“Lavender? What’s wrong?” Hermione put her hand on her shoulder.

Lavender shook her head and Parvati started explaining what had happened.

“She just got a letter from her parents. Her rabbit, Binky’s, been killed by a fox.”

Hermione looked back at them and bit her lip before turning back. “That’s awful. I’m sorry about that.”

“She was right! I should have known!” Lavender sobbed very loudly.

Harry gave Heather a weary look and poked Hermione on the back.

“Er… Who was right?”

Lavender looked up at Hermione like she was missing the big picture. “Professor Trelawney! Its October sixteenth! She said the thing I would be dreading the most would happen today! I was dreading Binky dying and now it’s happened!”

Harry crossed his arms.

“Was Binky old?” Hermione couldn’t help pushing on despite Ron, Harry, and Heather trying to pull her back.

“No. He was… Only a baby!” she sobbed into Parvati’s shoulder.

“So then why were you dreading him dying?”

“Hermione!” Heather whispered, trying to get her attention.

Parvati glared at her and Seamus was shaking his head.

Hermione turned to everyone. “I just mean that he didn’t really die today. You’ve only just received the news of his passing. And you’re clearly in shock so it’s not like you were really dreading it too much – ”

Parvati gasped and Lavender glared at her behind watery eyes.

Ron pulled Hermione back and stepped in. “Don’t mind Hermione. Other people’s pets don’t matter very much to her.”

Hermione and Ron stared daggers at one another when the class door opened. They filtered in and Hermione took her seat at the front while Ron kept them in the back. The lesson went by like normal and before they knew it the bells were ringing and the lesson had come to an end.

“Excuse me,” Professor McGonagall held them up. “Gryffindors please stay seated.”

Everyone else filtered out and Heather decided to stay put as well.

“Please make sure to turn in your Hogsmeade forms before the thirty-first. No signature, no visiting the village.”

Neville’s hand floated up. “I-I think I’ve lost my – ”

“Your grandmother has already owled it to me.”

“Oh.” Neville went red.

“Ask her now,” Ron whispered to Harry as the Gryffindors were getting up.

“Ask her what?” Heather turned to Harry and frowned. “No! Don’t leave me here alone.”

Harry stood and looked at her gloomily. “It’s the only way to go.”

“Without me?” Heather stayed seated and crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t go without you!”

“He has to go! Its Hogsmeade Village!” Ron looked desperate. “I don’t wanna go alone!”

Hermione was standing behind them now. “You’ll manage just fine, Ron.”

Heather turned to her. “Does that mean you’re staying with me?”

Hermione looked away and wrung the strap of her bag. “Oh, well… Actually I was going to still go – ”

Heather rolled her eyes and turned to watch Professor McGonagall shake her head at Harry who sulked back to them.

“At least we still have the feast,” Hermione smiled.

They all glared at her and exited the classroom.

Halloween rolled around and Heather joined Harry in the Great Hall for mushy oats as Hermione and Ron assured them they’d bring back loads of sweets for them. They accompanied Hermione and Ron to the front entrance and watched them line up to leave. Mr. Filch was checking off names and Malfoy noticed them as they left.

“Hey, Potter!” he called out. “Not going? Afraid of passing the dementors?”

Several people laughed and all they could do was walk away. They decided to head to the library but got bored quickly, being just the two of them and needing to stay extra quiet because of Madam Pince.

“This is boring.” Harry scribbled tiny circles on the corner of his textbook. “Let’s go visit Hedwig or something.”

They got up and left, bumping into Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris halfway down the entrance hall steps.

“And where do you think you two are going?” He bared his teeth at them.

“The owlry.” Harry replied curtly.

“The owlry,” Mr. Filch spat back. “Can’t fool me! Think I don’t know what you two are up to? Turn around and head back to your common rooms where you belong!” Mrs. Norris hissed as if to emphasize his command.

They turned around and headed up the stairs, getting off at a random floor and walking down the corridor with their heads hung low and arms crossed. They passed by several classrooms and kept walking until their names were called.

“Harry? Heather?”

They turned around and saw Professor Lupin leaning out of his office looking at them.

“Where are Hermione and Ron? You’re all usually together.”

Harry sighed, “Hogsmeade.”

Heather nodded, “We couldn’t get our permission slips signed.”

Professor Lupin nodded and drummed his fingers on the doorframe. “Why don’t you two come in? You can see the grindylow I just had delivered for next week.”

“The what?” Harry looked at Heather.

“Don’t you ever read ahead?” She shook her head at Harry who stuck out his tongue at her after Professor Lupin had disappeared back into his office.

They followed him in and looked at the creature in the tank behind Professor Lupin’s desk. It was sickly green and had long spindly fingers and sharp horns on its head. It made faces at them from behind the glass.

“Heather, why don’t you inform your brother on what this creature is.”

Heather smiled down at Harry who had taken the only seat. “It’s a water demon. They live in bogs and lakes and grip onto things very tight. Unless you want to be dragged down and drowned, you need to break it’s grip, literally. They have very brittle fingers,” she wiggled her fingers and looked back at Professor Lupin.

He smiled, “Precisely, Heather. Five points to.. Slytherin.”

She smiled and stuck her tongue out at Harry as Professor Lupin turned around to make them some tea. She watched him set the kettle next to the tank on some cleared off table space and tapped it with his wand. Steam shot out of it like an explosion, ready to serve.

“I figure you’re both tired of tea leaves, so how’s tea bags? Harry?”

Harry nodded, “How did you know about – ”

“Professor McGonagall told me about it,” he handed them each their teacups. “Not worried about all that, are you, Harry?”

Harry shook his head and looked up at Heather who knew exactly what he was thinking. She shook her head slightly and sipped her tea. The last thing Harry should do is go around saying he saw a death omen back home.

Professor Lupin saw their exchange and asked again. “You sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”

“No.” Harry sipped his tea and then set it down on his desk. “Actually…”

Heather looked down at him.

“When we were doing the boggart exercises, I never got to practice… You stopped the lessons just before it was my turn.”

Professor Lupin pressed his lips together and nodded slowly.

“Why?” Harry pressed on.

He gave a small chuckle, “Well in all honesty I thought it’d cause a panic if Voldemort suddenly materialized in the classroom…” He looked at Harry’s surprised face. “Would it not have turned into Voldemort?”

Heather was surprised to hear him say Voldemort’s name so casually. Everyone else seemed to be too afraid to. She looked down at Harry intrigued.

He shook his head. “I thought of Voldemort at first… But then I remembered that… dementor… from the train and…”

She hadn’t realized Harry was actually afraid of the dementors. To her it was just something stupid Draco was saying, but maybe he had picked up on it better than Heather had. If that was the case, Draco was a lot more dangerous of a bully than she had previously thought.

“I’m impressed,” Professor Lupin set his tea down.

“Impressed?” Heather echoed.

“Dementors are nothing compared to Voldemort. So, fearing the dementors only shows you’re afraid of fear itself. That’s very wise, Harry. A true Gryffindor.”

Harry beamed.

Heather wasn’t quite understanding what was so brave about fearing what had clearly spooked him on the train. She was afraid of spiders and they are nothing compared to Voldemort, does that make her brave too? She felt Harry was just getting more special treatment and retreated to behind his chair, annoyed.

“You must have been thinking I didn’t believe you brave enough to face your boggart then?” Professor Lupin gave a weak smile.

Harry shrugged, “Well I just… Yeah…”

There was a sharp knock on the door.

“Come in,” Professor Lupin called out.

The door opened and Professor Snape stood in the doorway, looking at Heather and Harry with a frown. He was holding a large goblet very carefully to his chest, which smoked faintly. His eyes narrowed at them as he turned to look at Professor Lupin.

“Severus. Thank you. You can just leave that here on the desk for me.” Professor Lupin cleared out an area and pointed at the spot expectantly.

Heather watched Professor Snape creep inside slowly, careful not to spill the liquid smoking inside the goblet. He stood back, facing them, and let his eyes wander over to her and Harry, glancing back at Professor Lupin.

Professor Lupin looked down at the goblet and back up at Professor Snape. “I was just showing them the grindylow.” He pointed at the tank behind him.

Professor Snape stood watching him. “Fascinating.” He kept watching him as Professor Lupin folded his hands in front of him. “You should drink it before the smoke’s gone out.”

Professor Lupin looked at them and back at Professor Snape. “Thank you, Severus. I will.”

“The rest of it is in the cauldron is in my office. I’ve made extra… should you need it.” Professor Snape continued standing there, eyeing him.

Heather’s curiosity was getting the better of her and she wanted to ask what the potion was, but she wasn’t sure how personal it was. She decided not to ask.

“Thank you – I’ll likely be taking more tomorrow – Again, thank you… Severus.”

Professor Snape’s brows pulled down in a frown again and his eyes glanced over at Heather and Harry again. “Not at all.”

Possibly the awkwardness had finally been too much because not soon after he backed out of the room, very watchful and unsmiling. Heather watched him reach for the doorknob without taking his eyes off Professor Lupin, until he started pulling the door closed when his eyes met hers before closing the door.

She had never seen Professor Snape like that, and there was something in his eyes that had urged her to ask about the potion, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to be rude in front of her new favorite teacher.

She looked down at the goblet and back up at Professor Lupin.

He smiled. “Professor Snape’s very kindly concocted my potion for me.” He laughed, “I’ve never been much of a brewer…” He picked up the goblet and sniffed it, shuddering. “If only sugar didn’t make it absolutely useless.”

Harry was on the edge of his seat as Professor Lupin drank the liquid, almost gagging. “But… Why?”

Professor Lupin set down the unfinished goblet. “Oh, I’ve just been feeling a bit… off color. And this is the only thing that helps with that. I’m very lucky Professor Snape works here, seeing as not many master potioneers would be up for making such a complex potion.

Heather was growing more intrigued. Was Professor Snape really that good? She suddenly regretted not trying as hard in his class lately, even if he was being particularly vindictive as of late.

“Snape’s very interested in the Dark Arts!” Harry blurted out.

Heather stared down at him confused but he avoided her eyes and stared directly at the goblet that was still smoking on the desk.

Professor Lupin looked at Harry with an interest. “Really.”

Harry nodded, “Some people think… well – that he’d do anything to get the Defense Against Dark Arts position.”

Professor Lupin nodded, and drank the rest of the contents, banging the goblet down and trying not to make a face. “That was unpleasant.” He stood up and headed to the door, opening it. “I should get back to work. I’ll see you both at the feast later.”

“Alright.”

Heather pulled Harry up and dragged him out with her. Professor Lupin closed his door and she pulled him away.

“Why would you say that? You don’t know if he likes the dark arts? And so what if he wants the position? Maybe he really wants to teach everyone how to defend themselves!” She wasn’t sure why she was so heatedly defending Professor Snape who had spent the last two months yelling at every student, but she did feel something for any Slytherin constantly being painted as some horrible person.

Harry crossed his arms. “Snape’s evil. He could have poisoned that goblet then! Everyone hates him for a reason.”

Heather scoffed. “He’s my favorite teacher. And just because Voldemort was a Slytherin doesn’t make everyone else evil like him! …And Professor Lupin didn’t even care to believe you.”

“That’s because he doesn’t know him.”

She wanted to hit him and stormed away instead, heading down the stairs and to her common room.

She sat down on a cushion and crossed her arms and legs. She decided she wouldn’t let a few months of hard potions lessons change her mind, even if it was just to spite Harry. She had a few hours before dinner and decided to catch up on her potion studies at one of the desks.

“Only a few hours until Hermione and Ron come back with treats,” she told herself. “Just focus on the feast.” That calmed her down and she was able to get to studying just fine, pushing Harry out of her mind.

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authormitchel-blog · 7 years ago

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SS: Part 1

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. The next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

“Hmmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very Difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes-, and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting….So where shall I put you?”

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, Not Slytherin.

“Not Slytherin, eh?” said the small voice. “Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that….. Hmm, just wait Harry Potter Slytherin will serve you good. You’ll see… SLYTHERIN!”

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Slytherin table. The pounding in his chest assured that he barely noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. He eyed the red headed boy, Ron, he had met on the train looking at him helplessly, but the people at the Slytherin table were mostly all smiling. Harry sat at the end of the table next to a large looking boy, he smirked at him, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he’d just been plunged into a bucket of ice-cold water.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end furthest from him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him a shaky smile. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he’d gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore’s silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

And now there were only four people left to be sorted. “Thomas, Dean,” a black boy even taller than Ron, joined Hermione at the Gryffindor table. “Turpin, Lisa,” became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron’s turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table. He couldn’t be the last Slytherin. Ron also wanted to be in Gryffindor, maybe the hat would ignore him too, but a second later the hat had shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Harry clapped along with the rest though when “Zabini, Blaise,” was made a Slytherin he had to move over to make space for him at the table. In a moment, Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin juice seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms wide open, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Welcome,” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

“Thank you.”

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or not.

“Mad as a Hatter,” Harry heard Draco Malfoy mutter. His cronies laughed along with him. He hadn’t liked the boy when he had turned down his hand earlier, and he didn’t like him now.

“Mad? Malfoy?” Marcus Flint, the prefect sitting beside Harry said. “He’s your headmaster, and he deserves your respect.” It was gruff and it was final. Draco turned away, latching onto another conversation closer to his part of the table.

“Potatoes, Potter? You need to eat something. You’re so skinny, you look like a Fwooper feather could knock you over.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table, roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, pudding, and more.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

Harry started at a noise from the Gryffindor table. One of the ghosts was removing, no, almost removing his head before replacing it to the horror of some of the students and the entertainment for some of the old ones.

His house had a ghost too. Looking down the table, he spotted a horrible ghost, with blank eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained in silver blood sitting beside Malfoy who Harry was pleased to see didn’t look to be happy about it either.

“Who’s that?” Harry dared ask.

“The Bloody Baron,” Flint answered, not bothering to look up from his plate. “He’s our house ghost,”

“Why is he covered in blood?” Harry asked, feeling braver as more time passed.

“Killed someone didn’t he?” Blaise, the boy beside Harry answered. “Didn’t you know all us Slytherins are nothing more than rogues, scoundrels, traitors, and murderers?”

The boy looked at him thoughtfully, a twinkle in his eye like he was laughing at him though his expression stayed neutral.

“Didn’t think we’d get you, though, Potter? Didn’t peg you as the type.”

Before Harry could ask what type was that, the remains of their food faded from their plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the deserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, and rice pudding….

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

“Well, we all know who’s pure here, and I doubt we got any of the other sort, but what about the rest of you?” Malfoy questioned, eyeing a few people in particular.

Some of the others laughed, some didn’t.

Harry who was starting to feel warm and sleepy after his meal was now suddenly fully alert. Harry looked up at the high table where Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes--- and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.

“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head.

“What is it?” a girl, Millicent, Harry remembered, asked, sounding quite put out about it.

“N..nothing.”

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher’s look---- a feeling that he didn’t like Harry at all.

Daring, Harry asked Flint, “Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?”

Flint looked surprised, but he quickly covered it. Harry thought it must be a Slytherin thing. “Professor Snape, potions professor and our head of house.”

Nodding, Harry turned back. He watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn’t look at him again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

“Ahem--- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.”

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” Dumbledore gave a warning look over the hall.

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.”

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.”

“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did, and the only one at the Slytherin table.

“He’s not serious?” he muttered to the haughty looking boy beside him.

“It’s just a joke, Potter,” said the black, haughty boy beside him. “I heard Dumbledore’s always joking like that. He just doesn’t want anyone to interrupt his poker games with Sprout and Flitwick.”

Harry heard the sarcasm this time. Wondering if he would ever be able to get anything but a riddle out of this new boy.

Harry shook his head. “Sure Zabini, then why don’t you join then?”

Zabini only laughed.

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long silver ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

“Everyone pick their favorite tune,” said Dumbledore, “And off we go.”

Harry sang along dutifully to the words of “Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts” admiring Flint’s quiet but pleasant falsetto until the end of the song.

“Ah music,” Dumbledore said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”

The Slytherin first years followed Flint through the chattering crowd, out of the Great Hall, and down a marble staircase. Harry’s legs were like led again, with each step his dread intensified. Blaise walked beside him, more like pranced. He had an elegance about him that he shared with many of the other first years, but that Harry seemed to lack. It made him stand out more than he already did.

Flint led them down a set of stairs, then another, then another. The air getting increasingly colder, the further they went into the underground of the castle.

“You’ll be my roomie, Potter. You don’t snore do you?” asked Blaise.

“How do you know?” inquired Harry.

Blaise smiled.

“Salazar knows there is no way the great Harry Potter would be sorted into Slytherin and not be my new roommate.”

Yawning, Harry ignored the elegant looking black boy, intent on trying to pay attention to where they were going.

When Flint held up his hand, Harry and the others were facing a stone wall. The corridor around them was empty with the exception of the expectant and tired faces of the rest of Harry’s new classmates.

Harry spotted Malfoy standing at the front of the group looking up at Flint.

Ignoring him, Flint turned toward the stone wall, and muttered a few words.

“Nulli Secundus”

The wall behind him slowly started to creak open. Harry stepped back with the rest of the first years. Apparently no one was expecting exactly this. The Slytherin common room was big and well lit, candles and torches were bright lending light along with the roaring fire emanating out of the ornate fireplace. In front of the fireplace in a lowered alcove were multiple chairs and couches were some students were already congregating. Doors lined all the other walls leading here and there, except for the far wall and part of the ceiling.

They were under the lake.

Harry knew it was cold for a reason. The whole portion of the wall farthest from the entrance and part of the ceiling was nothing but fortified glass. The lake filled with algae and water plants bloomed, but Harry was sure if he looked down that he still wouldn’t be able to see the bottom. The room was magnificent and ornate, every surface looked like something out of one of aunt Petunia’s regency romance novels.

Flint moved to the front of the group, and started to read out room assignments.

“Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, Nott…..”

Not me. Not me. Harry thought. He should have known better.

“, and Potter,” Flint announced. “You lot are in the dormitory to the left.”

They found their beds, six four-posters hung with deep Slytherin green velvet curtains lined the room. On the side of the room Harry head a swoosh, the sound drawing his attention. A huge carved out space took a large portion out of the side of the far wall. It was like the window in the main room, the lake was right through the glass.

“We really are deep,” Harry muttered, but no one seemed to be paying him any mind. As everyone claimed their bed, Malfoy closest to the bathroom by the entrance, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him. Harry and Zabini wound up at the two beds toward the back with Nott one up from them. Harry’s bed was directly under the faint green light of the lake.

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because as soon as his head hit the pillow he was closing his eyes. He was wearing Professor Quirrell’s turban, which kept talking to him, announcing to the Great Hall that he was in Slytherin instead of the Sorting Hat.

“Anywhere but Slytherin. Anywhere but Slytherin,” chanted Harry, but the turban shouted SLYTHERIN! Once again. He tried to pull it off, but it only tightened on his head painfully—and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it—then Malfoy turned into the hook nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold—there was a burst of green light, and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

“Breaking already, Potter?” Malfoy asked from his bed. Harry stayed silent. Turning away from Malfoy, rolling over, and instantly falling asleep once again, and when he woke the next day, he didn’t remember the dream at all.

#Slytherin!Harry #Slytherin Harry #Harry Potter #Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone rewrite #Harry Potter rewrite #ssp1

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junker-town · 5 years ago

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Spencer Dinwiddie fixed the Bulls as their fake GM on Twitter

Photo by John L. Alexander/NBAE via Getty Images

Spencer, you’re hired.

Spencer Dinwiddie knows what it’s like to be employed by the Chicago Bulls. The team acquired Dinwiddie in a trade with the Detroit Pistons for the immortal Cameron Bairstow back in June of 2016. Chicago had two spots for three guards on its final roster as Dinwiddie headed to training camp with the team. The Bulls decided to keep Isaiah Canaan and Michael Carter-Williams and send Dinwiddie to the G League. Whoops.

Dinwiddie would eventually get picked up by the Brooklyn Nets and blossom into a near all-star this season. The move is one of many black marks on the resume of John Paxson, Chicago’s top basketball executive for nearly 20 years.

Finally, the Bulls are set to hire a new GM, with Paxson stepping aside as an advisor. Chicago has interviewed a number of candidates, with Nuggets GM Arturas Karnisovas now emerging as the frontrunner. Before the Bulls make a final hire, Dinwiddie threw his name in the race and decided to fix Chicago’s roster on Twitter, free of charge.

In a long Twitter thread, Dinwiddie remolded the Bulls’ roster, and even landed both himself and Anthony Davis.

It’s come to my attention the @chicagobulls need a GM. If you say pretty please I just might come back as first ever player/GM