Brave New World

Rated: M



Disclaimer: I don\'t own the people or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.







--------------------------------------------------------------------------------





Chapter Two



“Harry!”



The Gryffindor in question was standing in front of the carriages that took the students to the castle from the train. He waited for the person who had shouted his name to catch up. Riding with the three Slytherin while interesting was mentally exhausting. It was also strangely enough, the most fun he’d had in weeks. After a quick farewell, he had left the train to find his friends. Now he was a bit out of sorts and seeing the thestrals had brought on a vivid flashback.



The Veil and the echoes of voices. Sirius. Bellatrix’s laughter. Falling. Falling.



The still grieving part of him wanted to lash out but the quiet death horse nudged against his hand and the livid fury gradually faded away. It wasn’t this animal’s fault he lost his godfather. Truly the only ones culpable were Bellatrix for firing the curse at Sirius and Voldemort for conspiring to get him to the Department of Mysteries in the first place.



Everyone played their roles in Voldemort’s little drama. He, the angry frustrated hero racing to save his loved one from certain death and of course Dumbledore, the gentle all knowing mentor doing his best to protect the headstrong hero. With each of them, making a royal mess of things.



Still his fury remained and though he had a better grasp on it, always it bubbled beneath the surface waiting to be unleashed. Preferably on the scaly bastard who continued to strip his life of any measure of happiness he tried to grasp.



Harry had learned a great deal last year and not merely about the prophecy that bound him. He learned that everyone was fallible. Sirius, the man who wanted to be a loving godfather but who had fallen through the veil because his mind was ravaged by the horrors of Azkaban and trapped in between the past and the present. Snape, a noted potions master and professor, who held on to childhood grudges and hatred like they were old friends and companions. Dumbledore who probably hadn’t heard the phrase about the road to hell being paved with good intentions, good intentions that had made his life horrible whether the man realized it or not.



They all made mistakes. None were perfect and the best way for him to come out of this war alive would be to open his eyes to this fact and stop waiting for someone to lead him. Save him. Because there was no rescuer, they were all too busy waiting for him to be their savior. In the end, it would be him and Voldemort and if he wanted to remain the survivor he had been all of his life, he had to find a better way of doing so than he had for the past 5 years.



Arms flew around his neck with a slender body slamming forcefully against him, dragging Harry from his somewhat morbid thoughts. He knew before he had a mouthful of brown slightly frizzy curls it was the first of his best friends.



“Harry! We’ve been looking all over for you. Where have you been? Are you alright? Why didn’t you sit with the rest of us?”



They really couldn’t have looked all that hard, was his first dark thought then he shoved it aside. Hermione meant well, and she was he his best friend. The summer had been quite favorable to her, if the soft tan and the gleam of happiness in her eyes were any indication. “’Mione, calm down. I was on the train obviously or I wouldn’t be standing here. I’m fine.”



“That still doesn’t answer the other question you know,” her stern faced expression brooking no argument.



“Well, when I first got on the train, I actually did go searching for you and Ron but I figured since you both were doing a great job snogging each other senseless, I’d give you a bit of privacy.”



“Harry!” she looked positively outraged and it brought on a much needed laugh. “Well, I, we didn’t-”



“That good, yeah?” he interrupted with a smirk worthy of Malfoy.



“Stop it.” She slapped his arm. “No need to tease.”



“Ouch, that hurt.” He grabbed the spot that really did sting a bit but not as much as he pretended. “Is that how you finally got Ron’s attention by beating him into submission?”



She tried to look affronted but the short snort of laughter spoiled the affect. “He can be rather thick at times, can’t he?” This time her smile was a slightly forced and tinged with guilt. “Harry, I’m sorry you had to find out that way. We wanted to write but Professor Dumbledore insisted.”



“Dumbledore’s Restrictions. I’ve not received a spot of mail all summer. Not to mention being forced to stay at the relatives for the entire time. So you couldn’t write to tell me about you and Ron. I’m not angry.” At her pointed glare he shrugged. “Okay, I was angry, still am a bit, but I understood why you didn’t write.”



“It just unfair, you being stuck there and unable to-“



“It doesn’t matter though does it? It’s unfair. It’s always unfair. But at least it’s over now. Best thing to do is to get over and move on.”



“But Harry, it had to be difficult this summer, especially with Sirius.”



“I dealt with it. Only thing I could do wasn’t it?” This time bitterness spilled over into his voice and she seemed to get the message. At least for the time being. If he knew Hermione, she would probably make it a personal crusade to make sure he dealt with his issues with Sirius’ death and talked himself blue in the face.



Great his personal life had just become equal with freeing house elves.



Hopefully she would be too busy with school and Ron to poke to hard at things he’d prefer left alone.



“Harry! Mate, where have you been?”



Ron was finally pulling up the rear of the students with Ginny, Neville and Luna beside him. He wondered if they had another rehash of events from the Department of Mysteries. He was definitely glad to have missed that. “Hey guys. It’s good to see you.”



“So where were you?” The look on Ginny’s face was a mixture of concern and pity and was mirrored on all of their faces. He only hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with those expressions for the entire year.



“Found myself in Snake territory actually.”



He mimicked his previous companions’ words unconsciously. A small smirk touched his mouth as the expected reactions came forth. Ron with his ‘Slimy Slytherins rant, Hermione berating Ron. Ginny looked like she was ready to explode while Neville struggled between wanting to play peacemaker and staying out of Ginny’s range of implosion. Luna was looking her normal spacey self, though a smile lingered on her lips telling him she wasn’t quite as tuned out as she pretended to be.



“Why would you sit with those Death Eaters, Harry and not with your best mates?”



“I actually wasn’t paying much attention to where I was until the door opened and Zabini posed the exact same question. Though without the Death Eater part. I could have just as easily ended up with the Hufflepuffs now couldn’t I?”



“But when you did, why not just leave?” Ginny looked almost as frustrated as Ron.



“Why is it such a big deal?” Sure they were Slytherins and the two houses had a pretty big rivalry going. Then there were the Death Eater parents…okay, so perhaps Ron and Ginny had a reason to react so badly. “Look, I’m here, I’m in one piece. It was no harm done.”



“No harm done? They could have-“



“What Ron? Could have kidnapped me from the moving train and taken me to Voldemort? Now the Slytherins are all carrying around portkeys on the off chance of performing their sacred duty to their Dark Lord?”



“I wouldn’t it past them.” The redhead grumbled refusing to let the issue go.



“Look, I sat with Zabini, Greengrass and Davis.” Though each had given permission to use their first names, the last thing he wanted to exacerbate things by doing so in front of Ron. “They were okay. No pureblood rhetoric, no insults and no ‘The Dark Lord will make you suffer’ nonsense. They were nothing like Malfoy and his brainless goons. So just let it go.”



“But Harry-“



“I can’t fight everyone in the Wizarding world Ron!” he shouted angrily, fed up with the protests. Being protective was one thing, running the issue into the ground was another thing entirely. “I was careful and vigilant and that’s all I can ever be.”



“They could be trying to lull you into a false sense of security, pretending to be friendly, before betraying you.” Ginny added which only seemed to encourage Ron even more.



“And Voldemort could be hiding in the Chamber of Secrets waiting for me to go to bed tonight before he comes to kill me.”



“That’s not funny Harry,” Ginny murmured uncomfortably.



“Shouldn’t joke like that mate,” Ron mumbled and folded his hands across his chest.



Well sometimes you had to be cruel to make a point. “We rode the train to school. That’s all. There is no nefarious plot. Now can we please get in the carriage before we’re late for the opening feast?” It wasn’t a suggestion and it was the final word he would say on the subject. Being cross examined about his traveling companions was no longer on the program for the evening.





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



FSFSFS





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



The first time he heard his mother, Zora, referred to as a ‘black widow’, he was seven years old. At the time, he didn’t understand what the group of women meant but he could read body language. The four women had gathered beneath his favorite climbing tree to gossip, as was the custom at his grandparents’ garden parties. He watched the way each leaned in closer, like most did when telling a secret, then a fan would flip open covering the speakers face as she relayed information. A moment later, the tittering laughter, with its tone so cold and vicious, and he knew ‘black widow’ was something callous and malicious.



By the time Blaise Zabini was ten, he understood quite well what those hateful women were whispering about.



Yet he knew better. Those women couldn’t comprehend the resilience of Zora Zabini.



They didn’t know that at seventeen she had been best friends with Penelope Taunton, who one day would become Penelope Parkinson. Nor did they know Damien Parkinson had wanted to marry Zora, had even approached her parents to begin negotiations. Zora knew her best friend had her heart set on obtaining a betrothal contract with the Parkinson family. Penelope’s crush on Damien was famous in the Slytherin girls’ dorms and no one dared go against the venomous girl’s wishes.



It was a friendship that would come to a bitter end. After witnessing a brief moment between Zora and Damien, Penelope had run off enraged. What Penelope hadn’t known, was Zora had been gently pushing Damien toward Penelope’s attentions. The man had agreed to halt his pursuit of Zora and give Penelope a chance but Zora knew he didn’t truly believe anything would come of a relationship with the woman. Headstrong and accustomed to getting his way, Damien was merely biding his time until Zora came along to his way of thinking. As far as Zora was concerned however, the matter was settled and her best friend would get her dream.



In the manner of all scorned women with a small amount of power and knowledge, Penelope rushed home to her father’s library with revenge on her mind. In a fit of spiteful rage, she cast a spell, the darkest of curses, upon her once best friend. Whomever Zora dared to love would be fated to die the most painful death.



Little did Penelope know, this curse would be unbreakable and after discovering Zora’s true intentions would try to apologize and reverse it. Unfortunately Zora was destined to have this curse follow her until the day she died. It was simply Zora’s misfortune the men she married were kind and she could not help but eventually love them no matter how hard she tried otherwise.



Blaise had once asked his mother, if she knew what would happen to her husbands, why she continued to doom these men. In the beginning, most were marriages her parents had arranged, others needed the fortune her disastrous relationships had garnered. His mother could only reply that she hoped he never knew the depths of loneliness and pain Penelope had cursed her to endure.



This foundation was the core of his reluctance to form relationships with his peers. His first year at Hogwarts was by far the worst. He stood in the shadows watching the other first years forming bonds he never wanted. Malfoy and his goons were the center faction, children of inner circle Death Eater parents who were destined and eager to become Death Eaters themselves, though they had no idea what that life choice would entail. Nott and his group, also children of Death Eaters, were the underlings of Malfoy because their parents didn’t carry the influence of the Malfoy name. Everyone else was usually from neutral families, like the Zabinis, and were left to stay out of the way as best they could. Or remain in the shadows the way he did.



It wasn’t until third year when all of that changed for him. He hadn’t expected Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass to extend a hand of friendship in his direction but three years later he was contented they had. The two girls had insinuated themselves into his life so utterly he finally understood what it must be like to have siblings.



They became his best friends and considered him the same. They studied together and laughed together. They were his confidants, and he held their secrets as well. When he had discovered that perhaps he was attracted to both men and women, both were completely supportive and vowed to remain by his side no matter what relationship he chose to have. They were also the first to volunteer to help with the issue of an heir should the problem arise.



Most important, they did magic together. As their friendship grew, so did the resonance of their magic. It was Daphne who suggested they celebrate the Sabbats together. Tracey assembled their Grimoire.



He was the one who suggested they form their own Coven.



Tracey was in charge of recruitment. She was considered the friendly half-blood Slytherin the other houses could relate to. A powerful witch in her own right, Tracey’s gift was her ability to sense magic. She knew if a witch or wizard’s power would complement their own.



Daphne was charged with the initial questions to discover if the initiate was compatible in other ways. Blood purity wasn’t important but they found muggle-borns almost violently opposed to the old ways. Dark magic, they were fond of proclaiming. It was difficult for them to overcome years of being unconsciously programmed to think performing a ritual skyclad under a full moon had nothing to do with Dark magic.



Despite this, four others had joined their small circle and no one at Hogwarts was any the wiser. Even with the interference of the Ministry the year before, their coven had come together and performed magic and celebrated the Sabbats with Umbridge none the wiser. Potter’s little group was greatly appreciated to have taken the pressure of discovery off them. Then, Umbridge had been directly targeting Potter, so she wouldn’t have noticed their Coven anyway.



Potter, Blaise mused silently. Harry, as he and the girls had been invited to call him. The Gryffindor was an enigma. Harry’s power was unmistakable. It was almost like a living entity that wrapped protectively around the teen and warned others off who dared threaten aggression in his direction. Blaise had to wonder how Malfoy tolerated his little yearly jaunts to the Gryffindor compartments each year with Harry’s magic warning off threats so strongly. It was a testament to Malfoy’s stupidity, not power, for Blaise knew exactly what Malfoy’s magic was capable of and it was no where near the levels Harry’s reached.



There were moments in their discussion when some of Harry’s responses had been downright Slytherin in character. Definitely a surprise for one so firmly entrenched in the lion house. Blaise thought he was mistaken when Tracey had signaled a recruitment query for Harry by passing him the 1st years guide, for there was no way Harry would even consider it. When Daphne agreed, he had been even more stunned.



“You’re both mad,” he shook his head resolutely as their thestral drawn carriage made it’s way toward the castle. “There is no way Harry Potter would be interested in our Coven, or the old ways. There is no way anyone from the Light side would allow him to even congregate with us on a long-term basis. Dumbledore is fond of pretending to be inclusive of our house but in ways he’s even more bigoted than the students.”



“You’re probably right,” Tracey shrugged off his concerns so lightly he had to wonder if she knew something he didn’t. “Then again, if the rumors I heard this summer are correct, Harry Potter has been through life altering experiences.”



“You’ve been gossiping?” Daphne looked just as shocked as he. Tracey abhorred gossip in all forms. To hear she actually was performing the act?



“Of course not,” she sneered. “You know what my idiotic parents have been up to this summer.”



The Davis family might be neutral but most people would find when the Dark Lord made commands and threatened family members, they would be hard pressed not to give in. As the Davis family made their fortune in the gathering and distribution of rare potions ingredients, and the articles about the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries within the Ministry, it wasn’t a leap to wonder when the Dark Lord would be sending representatives to her family.



“So what did you overhear,” he asked, knowing Tracey had no qualms about eavesdropping on her parents for information.



“Sirius Black is dead.”



Blaise felt a wave of sympathy swell for the Gryffindor. Malfoy had mouthed off in the common room the beginning of fifth year about Black not being a Death Eater and how the Ministry were idiots for thinking it, or so his father had claimed. Sometimes you had to take what Malfoy said at face value and decide for yourself if there was any truth to it. But if Malfoy knew, it was guaranteed that Harry knew that not only was Black innocent but that he was his godfather as well. And now Black was dead.



“Do you know how?” He murmured.



“No. I was surprised I heard that much. I know my father was charged with obtaining some pretty rare potions ingredients because he packed and left the house the very same day taking three of our house elves with him. And he hasn’t returned yet.”



“That would certainly explain why Harry looked like death warmed over.” Daphne wrapped an arm around Tracey’s shoulder offering silent support as she knew her best friend was worried but would never admit it.



“Not really. From what I’ve observed, he looks like that every fall he returns to school.”



“And just how often have you been looking, Lord Zabini,” Tracey teased playful. “Harry is quite attractive, though he thoroughly hides it beneath those awful clothes and those hideous glasses.”



There was something about Harry that drew attention. When he first arrived at Hogwarts, he had been rather small and unremarkable visually speaking but on the train, this sixteen year old Harry Potter had matured beautifully despite the ‘awful clothes and hideous glasses.’ The clothes couldn’t conceal the quiet strength in his body, more than hinted at in the shoulders and thighs while sitting. Nor could the glasses hide what was naturally a striking face. He had a generous mouth, an aquiline nose with eyes so vibrant a green not even the glass could mar their intensity. Pain had carved mercilessly into his face, giving the already good looks a compelling command.



“Maybe he just doesn’t like to flaunt he has the inheritance from his family, especially being friends with the Weasley clan.” Daphne reasoned out. “You saw how Ronald Weasley behaved fourth year when he thought Harry entered the Tri-Wizard tournament.”



“I thought that was the end of their friendship, frankly. It was definitely a betrayal on Weasley’s part.” Blaise had a very strict line on fidelity, especially after everything his mother had endured. Despite Malfoy’s actions, most of Slytherin knew Potter hadn’t voluntarily entered the tournament. His first reaction had been much too telling to be a falsehood. Weasley’s jealousy was an ugly thing to witness. “Perhaps not, but I wouldn’t be willing to place my trust so absolutely in Weasley after that.”



“I think that’s what makes Harry, well Harry.” Tracey smiled softly. “Whether he knows it or not he upholds the traditions of his family very well.”





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



FSFSFSFS





--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



By the time the nights festivities was over, including the sorting of the first years, with four new Gryffindors sitting at the end of the table, Ron making a bit of a pig of himself at the feast and Hermione lecturing on table manners, and Dumbledore giving his usual speech, Harry was more than ready to call it a night.



While unpacking, he listened to his other roommates joke around . Seamus making fun of Ron finally getting a clue was a good laugh for them all. Neville and his newest herbology acquisition was flowering menacingly over in a corner next to his bed. It was just like every other year.



Normal, he was tempted to say.



Except he felt separated in a way he hadn’t before. The others just seemed so, young, he realized sadly. They had their entire lives ahead of them. Sure war loomed ahead for the Wizarding world and they would probably be affected by it but right now the only things they had to worry about was class, teachers, homework and perhaps the next girl they would try to hit up.



It was enough to make him depressed if he thought on it long enough. Normalcy had never been apart of his life, not even back at the Dursleys. It probably never would at this point.



“Hey Harry, how did you get your school things if you were stuck with those relatives of yours all summer. I can’t believe Dumbledore let you go to Diagon alley and not the Burrow.”



“Remus picked them up for me. He dropped off my OWL results, waited while I selected my courses and brought my books over on his guard shift.” Those had been the more unpleasant hours of his summer. Part of Harry was expecting Remus to be angry with him for getting Sirius killed he hadn’t anticipated the guilt and wariness. He could have handled the man’s anger better.



Harry settled the last of his books on the small bookcase next to his bed. Remus’ presence hadn’t gone over well with the Dursleys, but they couldn’t complain as it meant that Harry would be leaving their house again for another ten months. Instead, his Uncle Vernon had added more chores to his endless list and confined him to his room when he wasn’t working. A typical summer in Harry’s opinion. Not that he could go further than the front yard in the first place, Dumbledore had made sure of that with his guards and demands he remain indoors as much as possible. He didn’t want to necessarily be around his relatives either so his bedroom had become both sanctuary and prison.



“Well night, Harry.” Ron spoke around a yawn before climbing into bed. All around them, everyone had either closed their bed curtains or gone to sleep. Ron opted for the later as he pulled the heavy comforter around him leaving only a tuff of red hair exposed. It would be a matter of minutes before he was asleep.



Harry set his rucksack beside his bed for class in the morning frowning at the book tucked neatly in the side pocket. “Good night,” he mumbled absently, before grasping the book and pulling it free. A flick of his wand shut the curtains around his bed for privacy, then a quick Lumos brought forth a small light so he could see as he climbed under his own blankets.



He was reminded of Riddle’s diary from second year but shook the thought off. The likely hood of a situation like that happening again was very slim. In fact, the book looked familiar. The dark green cover felt like dragon hide under his fingertips as he ran a hand across it, then opened it to the first page looking for a title or maybe a name for who had misplaced their book.



An Introduction to the Wizarding World



For the Curious Half-Blood



He wasn’t expecting that and wondered who could have possibly thought he would be interested in reading it. Then was brought up short by the feminine script on the next page.



Harry Potter,



This is a book I developed after Daphne had taken me under her tutelage to introduce me to the traditions and customs of Wizarding world that are not readily available to students here at Hogwarts. It is customarily given to Slytherin first years like ourselves who need a little guidance.



Why have I given it to you then, you have probably asked. Perhaps you are curious. Perhaps not. Inside you’ll find the answers to a great many questions you may have come upon during your time here at Hogwarts. Or you’ll simply toss it aside and think upon it no more. The choice is yours, of course.



I believe there is enough Slytherin in you to find use for it.



For quick reference, merely tap your wand to the contents page and state the subject of your query. For example, Autumn Equinox. However, it is best to start as you mean to go.



Perhaps we’ll speak more this year, Harry Potter. Our conversation on the train was quite interesting indeed. Blaise and Daphne concur.



The library, Wednesdays at 8pm are a nice place to study, wouldn’t you say? The three of us, along with a few other 6th year students you are probably already acquainted with often gather there and we would value another intelligent wizard’s contribution.



You’re welcome to join us.



Tracey Davis



~Slytherin