Charms and Transfiguration went fine, and with Sals there to help, Harry finally mastered the Gantus Floramus transformation and produced a lovely bouquet of foxgloves. Just for fun, he gave them to Hannah Abbot, who clearly didn't know what to do with Parseltongue-created flowers. She did take them, though. Harry supposed that was worth something.
He decided he ought to bring Sals along to all his classes, just in case he was having trouble figuring out alternate ways to say things in Parseltongue. Of course, they didn't learn too many new spells in Care of Magical Creatures, which came right after lunch, but Harry knew that if he brought Sals along he wouldn't have to listen to her later say that Hedwig was looking at her funny. Sals still thought that Harry's owl was going to eat her, though Harry had explained more than once that Hedwig would never do a thing like that to another one of Harry's pets.
Sals had replied that as Harry couldn't talk to Hedwig to be sure, she was still afraid. And Hedwig, she'd said with a little tremor coursing up and down her slender body, was simply huge.
Too bad I don't speak Owlish as well, Harry had thought more than once over the past week.
He'd got Sals another box, of course. The one Dudley had originally brought her in, but that hardly helped the situation. Any hole big enough for the snake to slither through was also big enough for Hedwig to reach a clawed toe into. And that wasn't even counting the fact that Hedwig wasn't the only familiar to reside in Gryffindor Tower. Harry supposed he could tuck the box--Sals inside--away in a drawer or something. That would keep cats and owls away, but it hardly seemed fair to his snake. So for the time being, he was stowing Sals in a pocket whenever he left his dormitory.
Maybe Hagrid will have some ideas, Harry thought as he left the Great Hall and headed outside for his Care of Magical Creatures class. As it turned out, it was in that class that his day began to get interesting, though that had nothing to do with Sals and everything to do with Theodore Nott.
The Slytherin boy left his usual clique of Housemates and sort of hung out near Harry as Hagrid lectured, then moved a step or two closer just as the half-giant instructed them to choose up partners.
"Don't think I've worked with you before, Potter," Nott said casually from right beside him, so close that Harry almost jumped. "I'd say it's about time, especially as you're in Slytherin now. All right?"
"Yeah, all right," Harry said, the words coming out a little slowly. From ten feet away, Ron stopped in his tracks and frowned. Shrugging, Harry made a slight gesture indicating he could work with Hermione. Ron frowned even worse at that, but Harry didn't have time to think about it as he turned back to Nott. He needed to keep all his wits about him. "So... hydra eggs. Well, that's a relief. I was a little worried we'd have to tangle with the real thing."
"Maybe we will, after they hatch," said Nott, shaking his head as he walked the short distance to where Hagrid was handing them out. He came back with two and offered one to Harry. "Still, no-one's died yet in one of these classes, so I suppose we're in no real danger... hmm, though Malfoy did have that awful gash to his arm that time. How's he holding up, anyway?"
Harry couldn't tell if the question was sincere or some type of bait, and he sure couldn't forget he was talking to not just a Slytherin, but the child of an active Death Eater. Given all that, he didn't have the first idea how to answer, but he had to say something... "Um, he's doing all right. It's Snape now, though, not Malfoy."
Nott turned his egg over in his hands and tapped the brittle shell with a fingernail. "Yeah, we all read that in the Sunday Prophet. Bella almost fainted."
Seeing Hagrid coming close, Harry hurriedly began tapping his own egg. Sure enough, the tiny animal inside reacted to that by jumping slightly. It was really kind of interesting, but he couldn't spare time to think about the baby hydra, not after what Nott had just said. Bella had almost fainted?
"So why would that be?"
Nott chuckled. "Didn't Mal--... hmm. Draco. Didn't Draco mention that she'd testified against him?"
Harry figured that his best strategy would be to play dumb. Maybe that way Nott would fill him in, and in so doing, mention something that really was news to Harry. Or, the Slytherin boy would say something Harry knew to be untrue. Either way, Harry would be ahead. "He didn't really say much about it."
Nott gave him an odd look, but then the other boy shrugged. "Oh, all right. Well, Bella told the Aurors that she'd seen Draco on the Owlery stairs just after the murder."
"What a total bitch!" exclaimed Harry, figuring that he ought to seem mad. After all, it was supposed to be the first time he'd heard about Bella's lies. "Draco was with me all that day. We were making deafening potions. And anyway, why would the name change bother her?" Tossing out some bait of his own, Harry diffidently added, "Well, unless it's because she publicly slandered her Head of House's son. I suppose that might be a worry."
Nott's lips twisted in a wry smile. "Potter, if we worried about slandering our Head of House's son... Well, let's just say that your own adoption wasn't exactly welcome news to us. At least we didn't have to find that one out from a newspaper, though. Snape came and told us."
Harry's wanted to know every detail, but he tried not to seem too eager. "That must have been an interesting conversation."
"Wasn't much conversation to it."
Harry wanted to ask what that meant, but he had a feeling that Nott intended for him to, so he held off. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes, the other boy resumed. "He just came in and announced it plain as day. Well, first he sort of summarised Samhain for us, and pointed out that even people who thought the Dark Lord's ideas were good ought to recognise that assassinating children wasn't... um, amongst the best traditions of pure-blooded society, something like that. Then he said that adoption was, and that you'd done him the honour of becoming his son, and that we'd sure as shite better remember it if we decided to mess with you."
Harry's throat felt a bit clogged after the done him the honour comment, but that last bit helped the feeling go away.
"You're having me on. No way did Snape say sure as shite."
"I'm paraphrasing, Potter." Nott looked him up and down. "Is it true you were stuck with needles all over? Snape wouldn't really say, though of course we knew about the eye thing."
"Yeah, it's true." Harry had thought he was over all that, so he wasn't sure why a convulsive shiver sort of wrapped itself around him. He shifted on his feet and looked away, biting the inside of his cheek for a second, and tried to get his mind off Samhain. "So what happened right after Snape said all that?"
Nott got a wry look on his face. "Nothing. He just looked around with those black eyes of his like he was challenging anybody to argue with him, though he must have known all along that nobody would dare. What sort of Slytherin would takes an enemy on to his face?"
"So Snape's your enemy, then?"
Nott blew out a breath. "What do you expect me to say, Potter? There are quite a few in Slytherin who weren't too happy when he betrayed the cause we've been raised to follow."
"Your cause stinks. Draco had enough sense to see as much." Harry stopped then, before he overplayed his hand. It wasn't true that Draco thought the Death Eaters' cause was wrong. Well, not that Harry knew, anyway. Draco simply understood that he was better off not committing himself to the kind of submission Voldemort demanded from his followers. "Anyway, back to Bella. I don't know what her problem is, but there's no way Draco could have killed Pansy."