I'm looking for a beta. If anyone's interested, please PM me! And thanks again to everyone who's read and reviewed!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter series and its universe. No profit is made here and no offense intended.

Chapter 4: A Distinct Lack of Knowledge

The Gryffindor first-years' first class, the next morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts, with the Hufflepuffs. Everyone had been looking forward to it, but it turned out to be an extreme disappointment: the teacher, Professor Quirrell, seemed terrified of his own subject. Not to mention, he stuttered so much it gave Harry a headache, his classroom smelled strongly of garlic (which also gave Harry a headache), and being around him made Harry's sowilo scar tingle (which also gave Harry a headache).

Since Harry had gone to breakfast far earlier than most of Hogwart's population - he'd always woken at six at the Dursleys', and he had today, too, by habit - he'd managed to avoid further staring and whispers from being the Boy-Who-Lived and the first Hatstall in twenty-one years. Much to Harry's annoyance, though, Professor Quirrell only drew further attention to him, starting from the teacher's stuttering role-call.

"P-P-Potter, H-Harry," the professor stammered, after taking what must have been half an hour to get through the thirteen students before Harry.

"Here, professor," Harry answered quietly, hoping desperately that the man would move on.

No such luck. "P-P-Potter," Quirrell continued. "C-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you. The B-Boy-W-Who-L-Lived, a s-student, in m-m-my own c-c-c-class!"

A derisive snort came somewhere from the Hufflepuffs, but when Harry turned to look at the group, he couldn't tell who had made the sound.

"S-s-so," Professor Quirrell said, as he finally concluded the role-call. "I a-am your p-p-professor for," he gave a small, shuddering pause, "D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts." His eyes found Harry again. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter." This time, Harry avoided looking towards the Hufflepuffs, and the other Gryffindors. He could feel their stares, slightly hostile now, on him.

"I'm sure I'll need to learn the basics, as much as anyone else, professor," Harry answered quickly.

"Right, the basics, with us beginners," a voice sneered disdainfully. This time, when Harry looked towards the yellow-and-black-clad students, a pair of cold brown eyes met his.

It was the blond Hufflepuff who'd upset Hermione, Ron, and Neville, at the boats. Zacharias Smith.

"You know he didn't mean it that way," Ron defended loyally, glaring angrily at Smith. "But, c'mon. He's the Boy-Who-Lived! He defeated You-Know-Who!"

"Of course. He's so much better than the rest of us that even his friends are elevated in his proximity."

"I don't-" Harry began.

"-think you're better than the rest of us? Of course you do, Potter. He thinks," Smith continued, turning to the whole classroom, "he thinks he so much better that he can ignore the rules. Just look at his pet!" Pallas's charcoal-blue head was poking out of Harry's collar, where she'd fallen asleep.

A high-pitched scream rang through the class. "Snake! Eww!" a pretty Hufflepuff with strawberry blonde hair squealed. Several of her friends echoed the sentiment.

"Pallas would never-"

"-hurt anyone? That's a blue krait," Smith said, still smirking. "It's one of the deadliest species in the world. Without treatment, its venom will kill, more often than not. Even with the antivenom potion, there's a 25% chance of death. Now why, I wonder, would the Boy-Who-Lived want a snake like that?"

Chaos. Many of the Hufflepuffs, and some of the Gryffindor girls, scrambled to get away from Harry. Even Seamus, Dean, and Ron eyed Pallas warily. Harry tried to speak, but couldn't make himself heard over the clamor.

"S-s-students! Settle d-down!" Professor Quirrell, too, attempted to calm the class, but no one listened. Harry spotted Smith, smirking amidst the chaos he'd created, and felt anger rise within him. He stalked towards the blond.

"G-get away from him!" a stout, blond Hufflepuff boy said nervously, his wand out.

"We won't let you or your s-snake hurt him," a Hufflepuff girl with dark brown hair added fiercely, drawing her wand in turn.

"I wasn't-" Harry began, but a clamor of voices interrupted him loudly.

"Yeah, sure you weren't. You-"

"You want to get to Zach, you'll have to go through us! We-"

"-Obviously Dark-"

"-wonder why not Slytherin-"

"-was my hero, but now-"

"Ever wonder why," Smith's voice rang over the chaos, "You-Know-Who went after Potter, why Potter survived what so many didn't? Why Potter thinks he's so much better than the rest of us? Only a powerful Dark wizard could have survived the Killing Curse. You-Know-Who went after Potter to stop another Dark Lord from challenging him. But he failed, and now, Potter's the most powerful Dark wizard around!" He paused, as his audience absorbed the information, then turned to Ron. "No answer this time, Weasley?"

§Master?§ Pallas said anxiously. She glared threateningly at the nearest Hufflepuff, who shrunk back but maintained his angry glare. §Master, do you want me to bite them?§ She leaned forward, her tongue flickering in and out angrily.

Harry panicked. §No! Pallas, don't bite them!§ he ordered, then realized what he'd done.

Smith's expression looked like Christmas had come early. "Oy, Weasley, did you know?" he called to the redhead, who stood, his wand drawn, besides Harry. "Your friend's a Parselmouth!"

Harry turned, his eyes meeting Ron's amber, betrayed ones. He didn't stick around long enough to hear Ron's reply; the murmurs of how speaking Parseltongue was a known Dark trait, how Salazar Slytherin himself had been a Parselmouth, were enough. He felt the anger rise in him, as Ron turned away, the anger that Smith was twisting his words, the anger that his allies believed what the enemy said, more than they believed in him. If he didn't leave now, Harry knew he would do something he would later regret. And that would only prove Smith right.

How he hated Smith! And Ron! And all the others! The room collectively reacted as Harry's magic flared beyond his control, just for a second, before it was clamped down again. And then, the Boy-Who-Lived pushed his way out of the classroom and ran.

«««««« σιενσια σητ ποτενσια »»»»»»

"Harry!" The boy in question turned from his perch on the windowsill, to see Neville Longbottom running towards him, wheezing slightly at the exertion. "Harry, there you are! It took me ages to find you."

"Neville?" Harry asked, bemused. "…What are you doing here?" Hadn't their alliance, too, been discontinued?

"Looking for you, obviously. Unless you don't want me here?" Suddenly, the boy looked unsure.

"No, of course not!" Harry replied automatically. "But I thought… after Smith revealed… since I'm a Parselmouth…"

"I don't mind," Neville answered empathetically.

"You… don't? Even though I hid that from you? Even though it's a supposedly Dark talent?"

"You… you didn't choose to have it. It's not your fault if you're descended from Slytherin. Plus, you're a Gryffindor."

"Pallas. What about her? I mean… I didn't exactly tell you… how dangerous she really is."

Neville paused a moment, and Harry could see the fear in his eyes, before he pushed through it. "I… I can see why you didn't. But I h-held her, and she didn't h-hurt me. You didn't have her hurt any of the Hufflepuffs, either, even though Smith would have deserved it. She's your pet, as much as Trevor is mine. So, no, I don't mind. I couldn't."

Harry smiled at him, and Neville straightened. Another thought, though, erased the expression. "And the others?"

"The Hufflepuffs?" Neville asked, suddenly interested in a portrait to Harry's right.

"The Gryffindors. Seamus, Dean... Ron."

Neville didn't answer.

"They're upset. They hate me." He was getting angry again, but this time, it was directed both at his supposed allies and at himself. What had he expected? They were just his allies. If new information came up, hinting that he wasn't on their side, what else would they do?

He'd just… hoped that Ron, at least, would wait to hear his side of the story.

Merlin, he hated Smith, right now. He was so narrow-minded, so desperate to turn everyone against Harry… so good at playing the crowd, unlike Harry. Harry just didn't get people.

"They don't hate you," Neville replied quickly. "They just... They don't know what to believe. They're scared."

"Of me," Harry finished flatly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but meditation had never worked to cool his temper, and he could feel his magic lashing out beneath his hold.

"Is, um... Is Pallas here, now?"

"No," Harry replied brusquely. He'd sent her off, to hunt, unwilling to deal with her questions and conversation, and the reminder she served of… everything.

"Oh," Neville said awkwardly. "Er... Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Noting Neville's hurt expression, Harry backtracked quickly, tone softening. "I'm sorry, Neville, I just... want to be left alone." Neville hadn't abandoned him, but what was to say he wouldn't, in the future?

"Okay. I understand." Neville turned to walk away, before hesitating. "If you ever... I'll be here for you, Harry, okay?" Somehow, Harry doubted that. And then he was gone, leaving Harry alone again.

Not that Harry minded. Sometimes, it was easier, being alone. People were complicated, difficult in a way his strange knowledge couldn't assist, in a way he couldn't comprehend.

Emerald green eyes turned to stare out the window again.

«««««« σιενσια σητ ποτενσια »»»»»»

"Harry I-don't-know-your-middle-name Potter!" an angry voice shouted, rapidly approaching. Harry looked up wearily from the advanced book on magical theory, to meet a pair of furious caramel eyes. "You don't know how long it took me to find you!"

"Hermione, I-"

"I heard what happened," Hermione interrupted.

Harry closed his eyes. "And I suppose you'd like to terminate our alliance now." He tried to calm himself. It was her right to do whatever she wanted.

"What? No! Of course not!"

He opened his eyes again hopefully, confusedly. "So you're not angry?"

"Of course I'm angry!"

"Shhh!" an angry voice shushed - the perpetually sour-faced librarian, Madam Pince.

"Sorry!" Hermione apologized in a lowered voice, before turning back to Harry. "I'm angry, because you kept a secret, but that doesn't mean I hate you!"

"…What?" Harry hadn't thought that was possible.

Hermione sighed. "Haven't you heard of friends getting into arguments, then making up later?"

He had, but how did that apply?

"I'm angry because you didn't tell me that you could speak to snakes," Hermione continued, "but Neville got to me before I found you, so I can see why you did it. But that doesn't mean you get to hide because of something a stupid Hufflepuff said!"

"It wasn't just him," Harry mumbled. "The whole class… Ron…" Even saying the name made a bizarre mix of emotions rise in him. "He was twisting my words, and they all believed it."

"Then they were all stupid. Especially Ron," Hermione told him. "He should have reacted better."

"They hate me now," Harry replied morosely. "And I wasn't hiding."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the last part, but responded all the same. "They'll get over it." Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione didn't let him interrupt. "And if you aren't hiding, then why are you in an alcove of the library in the middle of lunch? Have you even eaten?"

"No," Harry answered grudgingly. Hermione gave an exasperated sigh, then wrestled the book away from him, placed it gently on a table, and dragged him forcibly out of the library.

"Come. You're eating now." His protests were met with no sympathy.

"Granger, Potter," a cool voice said neutrally.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed.

The blond appraised the scene before speaking. "I heard about your class."

The smile fell off Harry's lips, and he internally cursed the Hogwarts rumor mill. Did the whole school know already? "…And I suppose-"

Draco was talking over him, though. "You're a Parselmouth? How are you not Slytherin?"

"It took me seven minutes to be sorted," Harry reminded quietly. "Why do you think it took so long?"

"So it was Gryffindor and Slytherin? That the hat couldn't decide between?" Draco clarified.

"Yes." Harry's tone ended the discussion - nearly.

"The Boy-Who-Lived, almost a Slytherin," Draco mused, before growing serious. "I wanted to inform you: Slytherin's on your side."

"My side?"

"Yes. We think the Hufflepuffs' and Gryffindors' reactions were ridiculous. That Salazar Slytherin himself was known for being a Parselmouth didn't hurt, of course, but still. They overreacted, immensely. Even Quirrell agrees."

"Quirrell?"

"Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Sprout got involved," Hermione explained, "since half the class disappeared and Professor Quirrell couldn't get the other half under control. I heard that Professor Quirrell was defending you, saying you did nothing wrong."

How unexpected. Harry would have thought, given the man's stuttering fear, that he would have been terrified at the thought of a deadly serpent in his class.

They reached the Great Hall. Immediately, Harry could feel the eyes on him, and the whispers beginning. He flinched, and glared at the nearest offenders.

He looked towards the Gryffindor table, where Ron, Seamus, Dean, and some of the Gryffindor girls sat. None of them met his eyes. There was no way he could sit there, even though Neville was there, arguing with the other boys. He couldn't intrude into that, not while…

Hermione seemed to read his mind. "You can sit with me, if you'd like, Harry," she said softly.

"The other Ravenclaws-"

"They won't mind." Hermione's tone told him that, even if they did mind, she'd make them not mind.

"If you're sure-"

She dragged him to the table, with the other Ravenclaw first years. "Sit," she ordered.

"Er… hi," Harry said awkwardly to the staring Ravenclaws, as he sat obediently. He noted, to his frustration and dismay, that some of the first years got up discretely, though their trays were still full, and that even some of the older students edged away.

"Everyone, this is Harry, Harry Potter," Hermione introduced. "Harry, this is Amanda Brocklehurst - though she goes by Mandy - and Su Li and Kevin Entwhistle, and Padma Patil." Suddenly, Harry felt bad for not even bothering to learn the names of the Gryffindor girls.

"I don't mean to be rude," one of the girls, who Harry thought was Mandy Brocklehurst, began, "but are students allowed to sit at other House tables?"

"Mandy," the boy - Kevin Entwhistle? - said teasingly. "You do know that no one cares, right?"

Mandy thought for a moment, then smiled in response. "Well, I guess… just this once…"

"Kevin, I think you're a bad influence!" an Asian-looking girl, who was probably Su Li, exclaimed. "Or… who are you, and what have you done to Mandy?"

"These are special circumstances, Su!" Mandy replied. The entire group of Ravenclaws looked at Harry, then glanced awkwardly away.

"So, how have your classes been?" Harry asked at last. "Which have you had?"

"We just had double Herbology, with the Slytherins," the Indian girl, Padma Patil, answered. "Professor Sprout seems pretty nice. She's Head of Hufflepuff, and Hufflepuffs are-" the girl cut off abruptly, and everyone glanced at the Hufflepuff table, where Zacharias Smith sat, surrounded by the other first years.

There was awkward silence again.

"So, Mandy, Su, did you know each other before?" Hermione asked in an attempt to start the conversation again.

"Yes, we're practically neighbors, and our parents have known each other since before we were born," Su answered cheerfully. "Probably before they were born, too! Wait..."

"Su, that doesn't make any sense," Mandy teased.

"I know! I think our grandparents knew each other, after mine immigrated from China."

"Do you speak Chinese?" Hermione asked interestedly.

"Er... barely," Su admitted. "And I can't read or write at all."

"But she can read and write in another language: music!" Mandy exclaimed, bragging about her friend.

"Oh, shush, Mandy. None of what I've written is very good," Su said.

"You're right. It's not good, it's absolutely brilliant. Plus, she plays like ten different instruments-"

"Only six," Su put in. Mandy rolled her eyes.

"-and she sings, and-"

"Shut up, Mandy," Su grumbled.

"What instruments do you play?" Padma asked.

"Piano, violin, guitar, dizi, xiao, and erhu," Su answered. "... The last three are traditional Chinese instruments."

"Like I said, brilliant," Mandy added.

"Not really!"

"I think that's amazing," Kevin said. "I can hardly even sing."

The conversation around the table sunk into a familiar feel, and Harry found himself relaxing among the House there'd been no possibility of him joining. Hermione often tried to include him in the conversation, but each time, Harry quickly turned the attention to one of the others. Honestly, he was perfectly happy observing.

Before long, the lunch period was nearly over. Both the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws had a free period before sharing Charms, so Harry followed the group as they headed to the courtyard to play Gobstones and Exploding Snap - none of the classes had given any homework, yet.

Harry found that, despite knowing more than any of the others about the two games, he was utterly hopeless at both. Part of it was that he'd never played either before, but Kevin, a Muggle-born like Hermione, won twice in Gobstones against Mandy, the reigning champion, and once in Exploding Snap against Padma.

The group then headed to the Charms classroom, following Mandy and Su, who'd had the sense to find their classrooms in the morning to avoid scrambling in the fifteen minutes between class. Harry found a seat by Neville in the center of the classroom, along the divide between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor halves.

Professor Flitwick was a tiny little wizard - part goblin, Harry thought - who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. As class began he, too, took role. When he reached Harry's name, he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight, but, luckily, neither he nor any of the other students made any other comment. The class passed rather uneventfully, and though Flitwick made Neville's toad, Trevor, zoom across the room in a simple demonstration, he didn't let them try - not until at least October, the professor told them.

They had History of Magic, next, again with the Ravenclaws, and this time, Neville walked with them to the classroom. Harry offered for Ron, Seamus, and Dean to join them, since Mandy and Su knew the way to the next class, but, without meeting Harry's eyes, the redhead declined. Harry had heard Seamus whispering about Dark talents and Dark magic, as they walked away.

Harry found himself heavily disappointed with the ghost professor of History of Magic, Professor Binns, who'd apparently fallen asleep in the staffroom one night, and gotten up the next morning, leaving his body behind. He began his lesson without so much as an introduction, droning in a mind-numbing voice about goblin wars. The few words of the lecture that did manage to catch Harry's attention, though, prompted knowledge as usual so, seeing Hermione and some of the other Ravenclaws' outraged expressions at the quality of teaching, he offered that they start a study group specifically for the class. They readily agreed.

Harry spent the remainder of the afternoon with Hermione, Neville, and the Ravenclaws, as they planned for their history study group, based on a curriculum Harry said he'd found in some old records - in reality, of course, that came from his ability. Before long, it was evening. They ate a quick dinner, then returned to their dormitories, Harry and Neville to take a quick nap before Astronomy, that evening. Hidden behind the drapes of his bed, Harry didn't notice if the other three dormmates entered at any point.

A little before midnight, he and Neville trudged to the tower for their Astronomy class, with Professor Sinistra, was fairly interesting, and Harry took special interest in comparing Muggle and magical astronomy practices. Muggle telescopes were more powerful, by many times. He thought that the professor might be interested to know what Muggles were capable of, with their technology, provided she wasn't too anti-Muggle. The only downside of the class was that it was for Gryffindors only - apparently, there weren't enough telescopes for two Houses to pair up - so he had to deal with the Gryffindors' reactions to him, and couldn't entirely ignore Ron.

Harry took the opportunity, though, to ask the Gryffindor girls' names. Sophie Roper, who'd answered him flippantly, as though she was daring him to hurt them, introduced the others to him: Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil (Padma's twin sister), and Lilith Moon. Class ended a little past one in the morning, and, exhausted, Harry was able to pretend that the other boys' silence around him was simply the late hour.

Despite the time he'd gone to bed at, Harry woke at six again, the next morning. At breakfast, though, Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor Head of House, pulled him aside.

"Potter. Yes, you. Come with me," she said. He followed, towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower, into the professor's neat office.

"Professor?" he asked politely. This couldn't be about Pallas, could it? Pallas. Eyes widening, Harry realized that he hadn't, in fact, seen his serpent since… since he'd ordered her away, yesterday morning.

He'd completely forgotten about her! He was such a bad person. It wasn't her fault, after all, that the entire… incident, had happened.

"Potter, it's about your pet." Well, that was just Harry's luck.

"What about her, madam?"

"There have been some concerns, about how dangerous it-she is. And snakes are not on the approved pet list, though-"

"I was granted permission," Harry interrupted.

"Yes, Potter, that was what I was about to say. I was the one who granted the permission, after all." He flushed. "But given the circumstances, as is school policy, it has been found necessary for an inquiry to be made." She paused a moment. "Is she here, now?"

"No," Harry admitted. "I was… angry, and scared, after Defense yesterday, and I wanted her to leave me alone. She was ranting about the other students, and I didn't want to hear it."

McGonagall's eyes widened, flashing with an indecipherable mix of emotions. "So your very dangerous snake, who is currently angry at several students, is wandering somewhere in the castle at this moment?" Harry winced. It sounded bad when you said it like that.

"…Yes."

"Potter-"

"I'll find her," he promised. He was going to, anyway. Pallas, too, was unfamiliar to the castle, and she'd probably gotten lost, yesterday, especially with all the locations Harry had gone to.

"See that you do," Professor McGonagall said. "You'll be called for the inquiry sometime this week; it will be a test of your ability to control your pet, as well as that she will not harm students, even if provoked. As long as she listens to you, there should be no problem." Harry nodded to the explanation of something he already knew, but then paused a moment, a thought coming to him.

"What do you mean, if provoked?" he asked warily. "Surely, if she needs to defend herself-"

"-then she must find some non-lethal way to do so," the professor told him. "She may not, under any circumstances, bite someone."

"Yes, professor."

"And if you need-"

"I'll find her."

"Right, then. If necessary, I can write you a pass for your first class. You have Charms, correct?"

"Yes. Thank you," Harry added.

A flick of her wand made a slip of paper float onto Professor McGonagall's desk, and, with a flourish, the teacher signed the slip. She handed it to Harry.

"I'm trusting you not to delay," she warned.

"Of course, professor," Harry reassured.

She dismissed him, and Harry began his search for his serpent.

«««««« σιενσια σητ ποτενσια »»»»»»

Technically, there was a spell Harry could have used. Also technically, unless he'd placed a charm on Pallas beforehand - which he hadn't - tracking down his pet was above NEWT-level. Which was why, nearly an hour later, he was wandering around the bottom floor, the dungeons, of the castle.

§Pallas?§ he called quietly as he walked the length of the corridor. §Pallas?§

"Well, well, well. Who do we have here?" a familiar sneering voice said. Harry's heart sunk, as he turned around to see Zacharias Smith, surrounded by a group of five Hufflepuffs.

"Go away, Smith," Harry replied cautiously.

"Too good for us normal people?" the boy sneered. "Although I suppose I do have to thank you for acknowledging me. That's more than you did for my friends."

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized. "I don't know your names…"

"Of course you don't," a Hufflepuff girl, one of the first to draw her wand yesterday, said acerbically. "We're not important enough for you."

"No, I just-"

"Save it," the same girl interrupted, "for someone who might actually buy your act."

Harry tried changing tacks. "Why aren't you in class?"

Smith scoffed. "If you paid attention to anyone but yourself, you'd know that it's our free period."

"Oh-"

"So we were on our way to the library to do some research. Imagine our surprise when we saw Harry Potter himself, lurking around our common room."

"I wasn't-"

"Sure you weren't," the girl agreed sarcastically. "And unlike us, you have class. What's the matter, Potter, too good for Charms?"

Before Harry could respond, another boy, one with carefully messy bronze hair, spoke. "I think it might be necessary to teach Potter a lesson, to respect his classmates. Oh, sorry, I meant his lessers."

"I don't-"

"I quite agree, Roger," Smith put in. At least that was one name. Warily, Harry drew his wand, as wands emerged from the sleeves of the six Hufflepuffs, some more eagerly than others. A quick Expelliaramus would be most effective, Harry knew, but that had to be directed at a single person. In fact, none of the dueling spells Harry knew worked on multiple. He'd just have to be faster than all the Hufflepuffs. Smith, the dark-haired girl who'd spoken, and the bronze-haired Roger would be his first targets, then the stout blond boy, then-

"If that was an attempt at intimidation, Smith, I'm afraid you failed badly in your lessons," a new voice called. Harry's spirits lifted, as a familiar pale blond approached with two others. "Potter," Draco acknowledged. His wand was already out, Harry noted.

"This doesn't concern you, Malfoy," the stout Hufflepuff boy said.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You'll find that Slytherin House has pledged its support to Potter; not to mention, he and I are allies."

"You, allies with the Boy-Who-Lived?" Smith asked incredulously. "What with your father-"

"-who's on the Board of Governors and will hear about this?" Draco finished. "Do go on, Smith."

"There's six of us, and four of you, if your bodyguards can even hold a wand, Malfoy," the bronze-haired boy, Roger, said.

Draco leaned forward conspiratorially. "Yes, but who knows what unusual powers the Boy-Who-Lived might have? Not to mention, my father will hear about this encounter, and he's got quite a bit of power, what with being on the Board."

"Megan, this isn't fun anymore. Can we go?" the strawberry-blonde girl whined. Megan must have been the dark-haired Hufflepuff.

"Some other time, maybe, Ernie," the boy with curly brown hair and bushy eyebrows said to the stout blond.

Ernie nodded, after a moment. "Zach-" he began.

"Some other time, then, Potter," Smith said. And then, the Hufflepuffs were gone.

"What," Draco began in a carefully neutral voice, "were you doing, Potter? Why aren't you in class?"

"Looking for my snake," Harry mumbled in reply, as he turned towards the blond.

"You lost her?"

"No! I just told her to go away, yesterday, and then…"

"You lost her," Draco finished.

"McGonagall gave me a pass to look for her," Harry added.

Draco paused a moment, before speaking again. "So you're searching for her, by hand?"

"Well, I can't do any of the spells to track her down, since I didn't place a charm on her beforehand, and the only spells without that are NEWT-"

"And you didn't think to ask a teacher? Who have taken their NEWTs?" Oh. "Gryffindors," Draco sneered, though there was less bite in his tone than Smith had had.

The thought, actually, hadn't occurred to Harry. "Professor McGonagall-"

"Did she, at any point, offer her assistance?"

Harry didn't think she had… but, as he thought about their encounter again, he wondered if he might have missed it. He had interrupted her, many times. Impolitely. Perhaps he should apologize later. "She might have?" Harry offered finally.

"Gryffindors," Draco sighed again. "Well, then, we'll have to find a teacher to do the spell for us."

"We?"

"Of course. I'm not planning on leaving you to wander alone. Knowing you, you'd end up surrounded, again, by dangerous Hufflepuffs," Draco said, as if the term was paradoxical, "or on the third-floor corridor or something. Let's go."

Harry followed Draco, out of the dungeons and through the school. It seemed, though, that they were, in fact, headed out of the school. "Er… where are we going?"

"I would have taken you to Severus, but he doesn't exactly get along with Gryffindors. Severus Snape, the Potions professor," Draco added, seeing Harry's confusion. "He's my godfather. But, as I said, he doesn't get along with Gryffindors, and my father says that he especially disliked your parents when they were in school. Of the other professors, all the core teachers have class, which leaves one of the elective professors. I decided that Professor Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, would be particularly fitting for this situation."

Harry nodded. "Have you met this professor, before?"

"No," Draco admitted. "But he couldn't possibly be less helpful than, say, Quirrell."

"Or Binns," Harry agreed.

"Haven't had him yet."

They exited the castle and quickly found the professor, surrounded by his third-year Care of Magical Creatures class. Harry spotted Fred and George among the Gryffindors and, to his surprise, they waved at him. He would have thought that their reaction to be like Ron's.

"Weasleys," Draco muttered derisively.

"They're pretty nice," Harry countered. "At least they're not ignoring me."

"Hello!" Professor Kettleburn called cheerfully. "What have we here?"

A feeling of unease began to settle over Harry, as he noticed the bandage over the silver-haired professor's left eye, the strange claw-like prosthetic that was his left hand and arm, and the prosthetics that were both of his legs.

"Good morning, Professor Kettleburn," Draco said politely. "My friend, Harry, has lost track of his pet, and we were wondering if you could help us track her down."

The professor's vibrant expression dimmed. "What kind of pet? An owl? A cat?" He listed the species dully.

"A snake," Harry replied. "A blue krait."

Professor Kettleburn's vivid brown eyes met Harry's excitedly. "A blue krait! My, my. Can I meet him, her?"

"Her," said Harry, "and I don't know where she is right now."

"We were hoping you could help us track her down," Draco repeated. "But if you're busy, perhaps after your class?"

"No, it's fine!" Kettleburn exclaimed. "Class dismissed! Think of it as a first-day treat!" The third years cheered and quickly vanished, the Weasley twins exchanging mischievous glances. "A blue krait," the professor said again. "A non-magical species, but still quite deadly! I've always wanted to see one! Yes, yes, tracking her down. Now, where did my wand go?"

Somehow, once Professor Kettleburn had found his wand, Harry found himself drawn into a conversation on various magical creatures. Kettleburn was increasingly delighted by the amount Harry knew of his subject - reading Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them over the summer had certainly helped, knowledge-wise - and was practically singing Harry's praises by the time they found Pallas, who proceeded to give Harry a stern talking-to. Unlike the Hufflepuffs from yesterday, Kettleburn was fascinated by Harry's Parseltongue ability, and the conversation turned to the existence of other hereditary animal languages.

Both boys, though, found themselves wary of the professor's tendency to reckless and dangerous situations. Kettleburn had been put on exactly sixty-two periods of probation during his employment, and was strangely proud of it. Much to Harry's disbelief, he was actively forced to persuade the teacher that it would be a bad idea to have Pallas bite him.

Ten minutes after they'd met the professor, the two first years (Crabbe and Goyle had disappeared at some point in their search, probably to begin their own search for snacks) parted ways with a delighted Professor Kettleburn at the boys' bathroom on the second floor, with the resolution not to take Care of Magical Creatures in their third year, if they could help it.

"If I hurry, I might be able to make it for the end of Charms," Harry said, checking the watch Pallas had given him on his eleventh birthday. "Thanks for your help, Draco," he added. "I'm glad Slytherin's still in favor of an alliance."

For some reason, though, the pale boy looked uncomfortable, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"The Slytherins," Draco began carefully, "are willing to make an alliance. However, some insist on this, non-negotiable, provision: that you stop all associating with Mu- Muggle-borns. Including Granger."