Chapter 27

Deception

Harry stared into the orange flames of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, uneasiness coursing through him. All day he'd been receiving dirty looks from everyone, even members of his own house. Justin was well-liked around Hogwarts, mainly for his kind demeanor, and was revered among the Hufflepuffs, who weren't taking the situation well. 

Thus, he couldn't really be angry at his peers. Ron had explained what it had looked like from his point of view, though he knew Harry wouldn't try to kill anyone. Apparently, most of the students were under the impression that he'd tried to set the snake on Justin, which would explain Justin's own reaction to what had happened.

He stood up and began agitatedly pacing. Ron and Hermione looked up from their game of wizard chess.

"What's up, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry just shook his head and continued pacing.

"For heaven's sake, Harry," Hermione said, exasperated. "Go and find Justin if it's so important to you."

Harry paused. "Yeah, I think I will." He made his way out of the portrait hole, though as soon as he was out of the corridor, he realized he didn't. have any idea where Justin could be.

He decided to check the library, hoping that Justin might be there finishing up some work. When he entered, he made a beeline towards a group of Hufflepuffs in their year sitting at the back of the library, making his way through the bookshelves. He was just about to reach them when the sound of his own name caught his attention. He paused to listen.

"So anyway, I told Justin to hide in our dormitory," a boy told the group. "If Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he lay low for a while. Of course, Justin expected this, Potter knows he's muggle-born after all."

"You definitely think Potter's the heir then, Ernie?" the girl next to him asked.

"Hannah, he's a Parselmouth. Have you ever heard of a decent person who could speak it? It's the mark of a dark wizard, Slytherin himself was one."

Harry felt sick. Ernie continued listing all the reasons why Harry was surely the heir of Slytherin, as he continued listening, his mind racing. Were they all mad? How could he, Harry Potter, be the heir of Slytherin?

At last, he couldn't take it anymore and stepped out from behind the bookshelves. He calmly walked over to the group, taking some satisfaction out of seeing Ernie's face go pale. He rested his hands on the back of an empty chair as he scrutinized them.

"Mind if I join this enlightening conversation?" He was met with a round of fearful gazes as an answer. "Wonderful," he announced, turning the chair around and sitting on it, resting his arms against the back.

"What do you want?" Ernie asked.

"Oh sorry, I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley."

The Hufflepuffs all drew in a breath at this. "What do you want with him?" Ernie asked, trying to keep the quaver out of his voice but not succeeding.

"I wanted to sort out the... misunderstanding at the Dueling Club."

"Misunderstanding?" Ernie asked incredulously, looking around at his friends. He pointed an accusing finger at Harry. "All I saw was you speaking Parseltongue and setting that snake on Justin!"

Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, though his hands were shaking with anger. "That isn't what happened."

"Sure," Ernie replied. "And in case you're getting any ideas," he added hastily, "My blood's some of the purest you'll find around here."

"I don't care what kind of blood you've got you prat!" Harry spun on his heel and stormed out of the library.

Once out in the corridor, nearly blind with suppressed rage, he only made it a few strides before he bumped into Hagrid. Hastily exchanging a few words with the gamekeeper, he continued down the corridor.

He decided to go back to the Gryffindor common room. If Justin was hiding in his dorm then there was no point looking for him. Besides, if Ernie was right, he'd suspected Harry from the beginning. While Justin had seemed pretty nice the times Harry had met him, it was disconcerting to find out how he'd really felt. 

Taking the stairs two at a time, he bolted down the corridor. The torches had been extinguished by a breeze coming in through the open window, which was why Harry couldn't see when he tripped over something in the darkness.

Stumbling, he attempted to regain his balance and squinted at what he'd fallen over on the floor. The blank, rigid face of Justin Finch-Fletchley greeted him from the cobblestones. With a yell, Harry fell back, and as he landed on the floor, his eyes ran over Nearly Headless Nick, his usually translucent form now black and smoky as he floated, immobile. 

In shock, he just stood there, his breathing becoming labored and his heart thundering against his ribs as he began to panic. All of a sudden, Peeves came whooshing out of an empty classroom, though the poltergeist halted in midair as he observed the scene before him. 

Then, before Harry could stop him, he screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! THERE'S BEEN ANOTHER ATTACK! EVERYONE RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

Harry briefly considered making a run for it, but as soon as the thought came into his mind, students came flooding out of their classrooms. The crowd in the corridor left Harry squashed up against the wall as teachers called for quiet. Professor McGonagall emerged from the crowd, ordering students back to their classrooms and restoring order.

As the crowd dispersed, Ernie Macmillan pointed an accusing finger at Harry. "Caught in the act!"

Harry glanced desperately at Professor McGonagall. "Professor I-" But it was no good. The Transfiguration teacher was still trying to calm the chaos. Justin was taken up to the hospital wing by Professors Flitwick and Sinistra, while Ernie was given a fan to waft Nearly Headless Nick there as well. 

Professor McGonagall and Harry were alone in the corridor. "To the Headmaster's office Potter," she said.

"Professor, I swear I didn't do anything!"

"This is out of my hands Potter," she replied curtly, though he saw the regret glimmering in her eyes. 

Harry sighed, defeated, and allowed himself to be led to Dumbledore's office by Professor McGonagall. 

★

Once at the office, Harry stepped onto the rotating spiral staircase alone, stepping off it once he was standing in front of the oak doors. He knocked and stood there to wait. However, this time it opened on its own. He entered, not surprised by this. He was no stranger to the wizarding world after all. 

The room had been the same as when he'd last left it, with the silver instruments on their tables puffing and whirring, and the portraits of previous headmasters snoozing in their frames. As his gaze scanned the room, a decrepit bird stood on its perch, gagging and shedding feathers. Looks like it'll drop dead at any moment.

As soon as the thought flitted across his mind, the bird burst into flames. It hit him. This bird was a Phoenix. He stared at the ashes in awe. He and Miles had spent hours in the Potter library looking through volumes on magical creatures. The Phoenix was one of the most fascinating to him. 

Someone lightly cleared their throat next to him, making him jump. He wheeled around, to find Dumbledore himself standing there, observing the ashes as avidly as Harry was. 

"Ah Phoenixes," the old man sighed wistfully. "They burst into flame when it is time for them to die, and are reborn from the ashes."

Harry nodded. 

"It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day, he's quite handsome most of the time. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes, they can-"

Harry smiled curtly at him. "I know what they can do, Professor."

"Ah, I see," Dumbledore said, sounding a bit put off.

Harry wasn't normally one to be rude, but it ticked him off that Dumbledore was trying to pretend that the other evening in his office never happened. Suddenly, before either of them could say anything more, the door burst open with a bang, and Hagrid rushed into the room.

"It wasn' Harry, Professor Dumbledore!" he said, wildly looking at the Headmaster.

"Hagrid I-"

"It can't've bin him, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to, you've got the wrong boy, sir!"

"Hagrid!" Dumbledore shouted, then lowered his voice. "I do not think Harry is responsible for the attacks."

"Oh," Hagrid said, nearly dropping the dead rooster he'd been carrying about. "Right. I'll be waiting outside, sir."

Once Hagrid had left, Harry looked up at the Headmaster, relieved yet also intrigued at the same time. "You don't think it was me, Professor?"

"No, Harry, I don't. However, I would still like to speak to you."

Harry nodded, prompting him to continue.

"I must ask you, Harry," he paused, perhaps for dramatic effect, then continued, "If there is anything, anything at all you'd like to tell me."

Harry furrowed his brows, instantly suspicious. Why would he ask such a question?

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, bringing him back.

"No sir, nothing."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Very well then. You are dismissed."