Chapter Seven: Anguis
The first attack was aimed at Muriel; Jack, who had been watching the Marauder’s Map, ran into a hallway to stop the Slytherin first years from pushing her around and shouting at her. He cast several stinging hexes and had the Slytherins running in terror in less than thirty seconds, while Muriel hugged him tightly, weepingly asking why they would attack her. Sirius had wanted to teach them all a lesson, but the first year Gryffindors had quick wits and Muriel was their hero. They also carried a grudge; Muriel didn’t go anywhere after that without several other Gryffindor students with her, and for about two weeks, the hospital wing was filled with first year Slytherins who had suffered magical “accidents” in the hallways.
James caught less than the rest of them, being a Ravenclaw and Head Boy, but he was being forced report more and more students to their teachers for their behavior, and students from every house began to grow angrier at him because he was fair. Gryffindors were sent to detention as often as anyone else, and that made them wonder whose side he was on, while the Slytherins just hated him because he was a Potter. Eventually, several of his Ravenclaw friends started accompanying him around the halls as well.
Lillian was starting to get into more fights than Sirius had been getting in before his warning, and Hermione and Headmaster Shacklebolt were none too pleased about it. Half of the fights were self-defense; she was attacked in the hallways more often than the rest of them, and she refused to let anyone protect her. She always won, and whoever tried always regretted it. The other half of the time, however, she was attacking Slytherins who spoke negatively about her family; she had put a group of four Ravenclaws in the hospital wing when she overheard them talking about Sirius being a murderer. She was more on edge than ever, and took a lot of her aggression out on the Quidditch team; practices were more grueling and the team was worked harder than ever. And she was serving detentions almost as often as Sirius, who was still in detention with Hermione three nights out of five.
Sirius hadn’t been involved in a single altercation since the death of McFarren. He’d been attacked in the halls as well, but merely shielded himself and kept walking. The other students were powerless to penetrate the shield, and he found that he enjoyed their frustration immensely. They wanted to get him to fight back, to prove that he was an unhinged, homicidal lunatic, but his steady temper was denying their goals. The quadruplets had begun pranking in earnest, keeping tally of the students that gave the Potters and the Weasleys trouble and making sure that they got their just payback. Sirius helped with a lot of the planning, but they all agreed that he had better not actually be involved in carrying anything out.
All in all, the relationships between the houses were deteriorating quickly, and Sirius had found nothing that could point to the identity of the real murderer, and, judging by his increasingly frustrated frown, Ron Weasley and the Aurors hadn’t either. Ron could be seen roaming the hallways at any given time, watching the interplay between students carefully, and questioning students from each house, but his efforts failed to show any results.
***
Sirius walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts and took his usual seat, while the Slytherins all glared at him and several of them threw bits of paper and garbage at him. He merely raised his shield as usual and ignored them, but their contemptuous treatment of him was really starting to get onto his nerves.
“That’s enough of that, twenty points from Slytherin and detention to the next person to through anything in my class,” Professor Lupin said in a sharp voice as he entered the room.
“Everyone please close your books and come to the front of the room; we’ll have a practical lesson today,” he told them. When everyone was gathered at the front of the room he waved his wand, causing the desks to stack themselves at the sides of the room, leaving a large open space.
“We’ve had plenty of practice in dueling against a single opponent, but in the real world you would more likely find yourself facing several enemies while having friends fight beside you. So today, we will divide into groups of four, and duel in teams of two. I want a Gryffindor and a Slytherin in each pair.”
This brought on a chorus of grumbling, but after shouting a bit and taking away several points from each house, Professor Lupin had them all divided into groups just the way he wanted them. This is how Sirius found himself glaring at Nott as the two of them stood across from Crabbe and Brian, who were also glaring at each other.
“Now, I’m perfectly aware of the recent rivalry that has grown up between the houses,” Professor Lupin began, walking around the room with his hands behind his back. “And I plainly don’t care. If any of you go on to become Aurors or work for the Ministry, or practically no matter what you do, you will be forced to work with people you don’t like. If you are paired with someone you don’t like right now, so much the better; it will give you the opportunity to learn some life lessons, and perhaps even build up some respect and trust in the absence of goodwill. Begin.”
Sirius spared one more glare at Nott before advancing on Brian and Crabbe, determined to take Brian out first since he was decidedly the more dangerous of the two. Surprisingly, Nott kept pace next to him. As spells began to volley back and forth, Sirius began to relax; Nott appeared to be playing by the rules and Sirius had a competitive streak that had him itching to win, even with a teammate like Nott.
Brian suddenly launched a massive Reductor Curse that would have plowed over both Sirius and Nott; Sirius raised a powerful shield large enough to cover both of them, and then blacked out as something hit him hard in the back of the head.
When he woke up he found himself staring into the concerned face of Professor Lupin, and felt a fairly substantial pool of blood growing around his head. He groggily sat up and put a hand to the deep gash before Professor Lupin moved his hand aside and conjured bandages around the wound.
“Sirius, what happened?” he asked, concerned for his student.
“I was just learning a life lesson, Professor,” Sirius said with clenched teeth, his words slightly slurred. “Never trust a Slytherin. Ever.”
Lupin’s eyes widened as he turned around. “Mr. Nott, did you do this?”
“I missed Crabbe, sir, it was an accident,” Nott said arrogantly with a look that plainly said ‘I did it and you can’t do anything about it.’
Lupin’s expression grew severe; he turned to several students who were standing wide-eyed around Sirius and who had been closest to the duel.
“Did anyone here see anything?” he asked.
Predictably, all of the Gryffindors described how Nott had taken advantage of Sirius being distracted and deliberately aiming at the back of Sirius’ head, while all of the Slytherins adamantly denied that they had seen anything intentional.
Remus shook his head in frustration; “This class is over,” he said finally. “I want a twenty-four inch essay from each of you on the history of perjury, and the punishments handed out by the Wizengamot for that crime for the last seventy years, due when we meet next. Get out.”
Professor Lupin bent back to Sirius and helped him up to his feet, ignoring protests and moans about the homework.
“Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital wing,” he said glumly.
Sirius couldn’t remember ever seeing his favorite Professor quite so upset.
“It really was him, Professor,” he said in a tight voice. “I wasn’t even remotely close to any angle he had on Crabbe.”
“I know!” Lupin snapped, “But I can’t really do anything since I didn’t see it myself and half of my class hates you enough to lie about it.”
Sirius couldn’t think of anything to say to this and stayed silent, trying instead to ignore the growing ache in his head.
“I’m sorry, Sirius,” Lupin said after a while. “It’s just that things are starting to get out of hand. The Headmaster is seriously considering confiscating all of the student’s wands between classes. And the Aurors are no closer to finding the real murderer.”
“I know, sir,” Sirius said, shaking his head and then instantly regretting it. “I don’t particularly enjoy having my family threatened and attacked for something I supposedly did, either, but I have been trying to keep things from escalating further.”
“I know you have, and so does the Headmaster,” Remus said softly, “and we all appreciate the efforts you’ve been making. Here you are, then. I’m sorry this happened to you in my class and I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything about it.”
They had arrived at the hospital wing, where Lupin left him in Madame Pomfrey’s reliable care; the old hospital matron grumbled about Potters who couldn’t stay out of the hospital and then gave Sirius several foul-tasting potions and ordered him to stay in bed for the rest of the day.
As Sirius lay back, left with nothing to do but think, he concentrated once again on the strange feelings and power surges he had been experiencing. In the Headmaster’s office, before Dumbledore had interrupted him, he had felt like there was some kind of transformation taking place, as though something inside of him was finally breaking free. Would that transformation complete itself eventually no matter what he did, and would it be a good thing? He decided he wanted to know what was happening, and, no matter the consequences, find out what was inside of him.
He closed his eyes began concentrating again, not on anger, or escape, but on the feeling of that transformation the times when it had come closest. He felt the fire this time, not as a palpable heat, but as a wave coursing over his body. He needed to go farther; he began pouring magical energy into what was happening, not knowing what he was doing, but somehow confident that it would work.
His experiment was interrupted, however, when he heard the door unlatch. Quickly he ceased his efforts and felt the flames immediately die. He looked around and discovered that several hours must have past, because it was dark outside, and his hospital pajamas and bedclothes were charred black. He waved his wand quickly to repair them, and looked up to see Lillian sneaking into the room.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a harsh whisper.
“I came to see how you were doing, and don’t talk to me that way,” she said snappishly. She didn’t look happy at all.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in a kinder whisper as she came and sat down at the foot of his bead.
“I’m just getting tired of all the hostility,” she said quietly, “and I thought I might spend some time with someone who I thought wouldn’t be so hostile. Things are getting out of hand, Sirius… what’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know,” Sirius whispered, “I’m sure the Aurors will find whoever it was that really killed McFarren, and then things will get back to normal.”
“I don’t think so, Sirius,” she said in despair. “The Slytherins hate us because of who we are, and that won’t change just because the excuse they have now will be proved wrong. They’ll find a new one, and it will keep going. Even the Ravenclaws don’t like us now, and if they weren’t so busy being frightened out of their wits, the Hufflepuffs would too.”
She couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped her as she mentioned the fearful Hufflepuffs, and Sirius chuckled along with her.
“Maybe if we let the other teams win at Quidditch they won’t hate us so much,” Sirius suggested with a sly grin.
Lillian punched him in the shoulder, laughing as he winced. “That’s not even an option. Instead, let’s beat them all so severely at Quidditch that we become their heroes and then they won’t hate us so much.”
“That idea does sound better,” Sirius admitted. “Seriously though, I think you should stop fighting them so much. You’re getting in a lot of trouble, and mum and dad are going to blame me if you get expelled for picking up my behavior. And you might find that the Slytherins pay less attention to you when they find that they can’t get you to react to them.”
“You’re right, of course,” Lillian said with a sigh, “but it’s incredibly disturbing to hear you be the voice of reason. That used to be my job.”
“Well, you lost it when…”
Sirius’ reply was cut off, however, as the hospital doors started opening again. Lillian ducked back behind Sirius’ bed and Sirius lay back, pretending to be asleep, though he kept his eyes open enough to see what was going on. He was surprised to see several figures in dark robes entering the room, making an even dozen by the time they stopped coming. He recognized Slytherin robes, and several of them looked familiar enough that he knew they were older students from that house.
Sirius sat up, and Lillian stood next to him, looking around angrily.
“What are you doing here?” she asked angrily, her wand out, though not yet raised.
“We’re paying a night-time visit to our dear friend here,” came the shrill voice of Amy Parkinson, and Sirius could see Lillian tense. The two were far from friends.
“And during this visit,” the deeper voice of Damian Zabini chimed in, “we’re going to show Sirius how it feels to have a bunch of snakes in bed with him, since that was what he did to McFarren.”
Zabini cast a quick disarming charm on Lillian, who wasn’t quite expecting it, and then all of the Slytherin students began casting spells, each conjuring a snake that slithered forward toward the two Potters.
Sirius and Lillian, far from being terrified as the other students had expected, threw back their heads and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Nott’s voice asked suspiciously. Several of the snakes were getting very close, and they looked quite frightening as far as he could see.
“You don’t know your Potter family history very well, do you?” Sirius asked with a smirk.
Lillian merely began hissing back at the snakes and all of them stopped except for one that slithered onto her outstretched arm, curling around it and allowing her to stroke its kite-shaped head.
“We like snakes,” she said finally, as the Slytherins stared in shock. “We talk to them, and they listen.”
“Not very bright of you at all,” Sirius said sadly, while shaking his head. He then hissed several words in Parseltongue and the snakes all turned around and began slithering back towards the witch or wizard that had conjured them.
The Slytherin students were backing away nervously now, but Sirius decided they weren’t nervous enough.
Lifting his hand, Sirius shouted “Anguis!” and suddenly light flared from all of the Slytherin student’s wands, and dozens more snakes shot out of them and onto the floor. Screaming, the Slytherins began racing from the room, dodging snakes that nipped at their heels; the snakes weren’t actually trying to hurt them, just herd them out. Sirius, partially numb with disbelief at what had just happened, wordlessly summoned back Lillian’s wand. Lillian was just staring at him when he tried to give it back.
“Did you just use their wands for your spell?” she asked finally.
“Umm… I didn’t mean to. I meant to use my hand, but it was like there was a power surge or something,” he said, not quite believing it himself.
There was a long pause.
“Wow,” Lillian said, shaking her head in disbelief. “That could be really cool if you could do it on purpose and wordlessly; the Slytherins in your classes would never be able to cast the right spells.”
Sirius was somewhat dumbfounded that Lillian would see the prank applications of something before he did, and just stared at her. She shook her head again, and patted his shoulder.
“Well, I’m going to bed,” she said, getting to her feet and using her wand to begin vanishing the snakes that were still littering the ground and hissing contentedly. When they were all gone, she looked back.
“I think there is going to be a fresh batch of rumors in the morning, but I doubt anyone will believe the truth. At the very least, our Parseltongue abilities are going to get out. I think it was worth it, though.” This last bit was said with a laugh, as Lillian left the room.
Sirius watched her leave in disbelief; she had seen him do something that should be impossible, but had taken it in stride and accepted it better than he had himself. One thing was for certain; he needed some time alone so that he could discover what it was that was happening to him.