Author's notes: This fic contains slash and incestuous relations. You're warned!
The four first chapters are for fun. They have nothing to see with the plot and are too sweet and childish for my tastes. Still, there are some important pieces of information in them. Chapters five and six represent the introduction. The real story begins at chapter seven. If you think 'But chapters are really short. How can she make a full story out of seven chapters?'. Well, they keep going longer and longer. Chapter ten even had to be cut in two parts.
What I wanted to say is: if you find the beginning stupid, please go on a little longer. You could be surprised. Have a good read.
THE SNAKE'S CLANChapter
1: come back
Tuesday, September 1st
For
the seventh and last time in his life, Harry found himself weaving
through the crowds at King's Cross station towards the magical
barrier between platforms 9 and 10. He was reminiscing about the past
year, which had been particularly unpleasant, despite Dumbledore's
best efforts to raise moral. Voldemort's latest campaign of terror
had left the entire school on edge, and Harry was hoping this year,
the atmosphere would be a little less tense. Dodging through the
throng of muggles, Harry ran throughout the barrier between
platforms. He couldn't help smiling when he saw the Hogwarts express
and the familiar, dusty sign displaying "platform 9 &
3/4s".
Abandoning
his maudlin thoughts for the moment, Harry pulled himself up the
stairs into the nearest compartment and levitated his trunk in after
him using a spell he had learned during one of his many sleepless
nights at Privet drive. It reminded him of the spell Sirius used on
Snape, that fateful night Harry had found out who had really betrayed
his parents.
At
length, Harry found an empty compartment, and settled down. Alone, at
least until Hermione and Ron arrived, he fell into thought. His fifth
year had been eerily calm. Voldemort seemed to have disappeared
completely. The Death Eaters, too, tried to draw as little attention
to themselves as possible; attacks on Muggles, like that of the
Quidditch World Cup were few and far between. Even the Dursleys had
almost stopped persecuting Harry. In his sixth year, everything
changed. The new Minister of Magical Games and Sports, Henry Strawe
(Ludo Bagman had been sacked due to his gambling debts) had been
assassinated.
The
murderers were, without a doubt, the Death-Eaters, under the orders
of Lord Voldemort. The Minister's bleeding corpse had been found near
the Twitching Broomstick in Appleby, the Dark Mark floating in the
sky. The news of Voldemort's rebirth spread like wildfire, sparking
the biggest exodus out of the country since Voldemort's first reign
of terror.
Even
Cornelius Fudge had finally realised that Voldemort was behind the
flurry of attacks on ministers, Muggles and aurors, and publicly
begged Dumbledore to replace him as Minister nearly every day. Harry
snorted at the irony of this, it had been Fudge who had insisted that
Voldemort had not returned in Harry's fourth
year.
Dumbledore,
however had refused to leave Hogwarts. The Headmaster knew that the
school could not survive without his influence, the tension between
Gryffindors and Slytherins escalated daily, often erupting into duels
between Draco and himself.
Harry's
reverie was suddenly disrupted; several ones were arguing in the
corridor outside the compartment. Curious, Harry got up and opened
the door. He found Ron, held back by desperate-looking Hermione who
looked about ready to change her mind and let him loose, trying to
hex Crabbe and Goyle.
"Stop!"
yelled Harry
Startled,
Hermione released Ron, who stumbled forwards, and almost plowed into
Crabbe and Goyle, who, shaken by Harry's sudden appearance, had
jumped about a foot in the air. Harry calmly helped his two best
friends up. Crabbe and Goyle had recovered as well, and Malfoy's
bodyguards were about to continue the fight where it had left off
when Harry noticed that Malfoy was missing. 'Where is he?' Harry
wondered. He was distracted by Crabbe drawling, "So...
Gryffindor's golden boy..."
Harry
was flabbergasted, when had Crabbe drawled? Or come up with
alliterated insults?
Ron
started to defend Harry when another compartment door opened behind
the Slytherins. Unfortunately, the newcomer was blocked by Crabbe and
Goyle's not inconsiderable bulks.
"What's
all this uproar about?" inquired a dark
voice.
"Huh.We're
jus' showin' these littl'…"
Goyle
was barely halfway through his explanation when the voice cut
smoothly through his sentence.
"Goyle.
Shut up. Now." snapped the voice. Harry recognised it as
Draco's. Before he had a chance to say anything the door between
Draco's compartment and the corridor slammed shut.
Malfoy's
voice was filled with irritation so intense it made the goons shiver
like Neville would in a potion's lesson.
"W…we
better go." Stammered Crabbe and Goyle in unison, shuffling away
quickly.
Later,
Harry, Ron and Hermione were joined by Dean, Seamus and then Justin
Finch-Fletchley. Ron had taken advantage of an attentive audience to
narrate the tale of their little corridor brawl.
When
Justin immediately took out a piece of parchment and an acid-green
Quick-Quotes Quill, the others were quite perplexed.
"What
are you doing?" inquired Harry nervously. He had always
mistrusted enchanted quills since his fourth year with Rita Skeeter's
horrible articles.
"Just taking notes for an article in the school paper I started," replied Justin airily.
"A paper? You want to publish a news-paper?" Ron interrupted derisively.
"Yeah, I've asked professor Sprout, my Head of house, and Dumbledore. They both agreed, thought it was a wonderful idea!" Justin added this bit to annoy Ron, who was looking quite skeptical.
"Don't you think it will be an insane amount of work, too much for you to handle?" added Hermione, "It's our Newt's this year and..."
"The others all said they'd pitch in, Dean even volunteered to be assistant editor. Anyway, I can always count on you three to help in a tight situation, tell me when something big happens!" Justin exclaimed brightly, pointedly ignoring the others' doubtful expressions.
"No problem, we'll tell you all the dirt on the Slytherins, who Malfoy is sleeping with and such," said Ron with a mischievous smile, which Harry found more than slightly suspicious.
Ron then continued his much embellished story, and by the end Justin, budding journalist that he was, was bursting with questions.
"But are you sure it was Malfoy?" insisted Justin, "he's usually the one who encourages Crabbe and Goyle to hex you!"
Harry broke into the conversation, "Yeah. I've been thinking about this incident ever since it happened, and its very weird. I suggest we keep an eye on Malfoy. Maybe he's planning something especially nasty for us - you know his ...affiliations."
------------------
The rest of the trip to Hogwarts passed by without a single disturbance. Through the window, Harry watched fields and mountains whiz by. A faint smile was imprinted on his lips as he thought of what was awaiting him this year. In his last letter, Sirius had hinted that a few changes had taken place at Hogwarts. Of course, he had refused to divulge what they were.
Finally they arrived at the castle. Harry sighed; he was at last back where his heart belonged: Hogwarts. The Great Hall was its usual grand self; fully decorated for the feast, the candles floating in mid-air above the tables. The Headmaster was gazing at Harry, smiling with the usual benevolent twinkle in his eyes, surrounded by the other professors.
Harry swiftly picked out tiny professor Flitwick, who was amiably chatting with professor Sprout, the grimy Herbology teacher. At her side was professor Snape. Never in all his years as a student had Harry hated a teacher as much as he hated Severus Snape. Even after he found out the sallow-faced, greasy-haired, hook-nosed potions master was a spy for Dumbledore, working among the Death-Eaters, Harry still hadn't been able to feel any sympathy for the man.
Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, and watched the first years being sorted into their respective houses. He cheered each new Gryffindor, and bet on the sorting hat's choices. Finally, when all students were in their seat, food appeared on each table.
As
the feast was drawing to a close, professor Dumbledore got up and
made the usual announcements.
"Ah,
another year at Hogwarts!" he said, smiling around at them all.
" I ask for your attention for only a few short minutes. I would
like to remind you that the forest is forbidden to all students,
whatever year they are." He was now looking fixedly at Harry,
Ron and Hermione, who had disobeyed this rule time and time again.
"Mr. Filch asked me to tell you that the corridors are to be
free of magic, and students caught duelling in the hallway will be
severely punished." Harry knew Ron was blushing: the last year
he had been given a record number of detentions, because of his
unceasing fights with Malfoy.
"As
you may have noticed, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher
hasn't arrived yet. He will be here tomorrow. One more thing, I have
the pleasure to name Hermione Granger and Ernie Macmillan as the new
Head Girl and Boy. Now, I wish you all a good night, first years
please follow the prefects to your dormitories, they will give you
the password to your common rooms. Could the members of the quidditch
teams of each house please remain in the great hall, their team
captains will be named."
Only
a few students remained, waiting for Professor McGonagall to announce
the team captains. Harry looked at the Slytherins, searching for his
arch-enemy. Draco however, was no-where to be found.
"So!"
Professor McGonagall began, "down to business. The captains are
Hannah Abbot for Hufflepuff, Terry Boot for Ravenclaw, Harry Potter
for Gryffindor, and Blaise Zabini for Slytherin."
The
Slytherins frowned, utterly perplexed.
"Me?
But it should be Malfoy!" Blaise exclaimed,
outraged.
"Malfoy.
where is he?" remarked Goyle.
The
whispering among the students was growing louder, the rumours
wilder.
"Your attention please!", Professor McGonagall shouted over the noise, "Mr. Malfoy requested to leave his house quidditch team this year."
"Wha…What?
But why?" Harry demanded loudly.
McGonagall
turned to Harry. "I have no say in this Mr. Potter. Maybe, if
you ask him, he'll explain. Now, its getting late, please go back to
your dormitories if you have no more questions. Tomorrow morning,
your quidditch practice times will be handed out along with your
academic timetables. Good night." She left, her robes billowing
behind her.
When Harry had got back to his dorm, his roommates were bursting with questions. Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville forced Harry to repeat the entire meeting in full detail. They were quite pleased with the outcome. The previous year, only the Slytherin team had stood in the way of a Gryffindor victory. Over the past several years, Malfoy had matured, and his rivalry with Harry had forced him to become more serious about quidditch. He had honed his skills, and his strategies became more cunning and inventive every year.
Harry couldn't help wondering about Malfoy. For the past two years, he had played only to defeat him and was no longer able to imagine a match without Draco to beat or impress. All of a sudden, quidditch had lost its appeal.