At the top of the tower

A few days after the attack, McGonagall announced with a deep look of disgust that to address the situation, the council had urgently appointed a new headmaster. After this announcement, a blond man, richly dressed, entered the great hall and took McGonagall's place to the applause of the Slytherins and the boos of the other houses. Everyone understood. Lucius Malfoy had been appointed headmaster of Hogwarts.

He emanated a dangerous aura of authority that demanded obedience. With a single word, he restored silence and began his speech. After briefly lamenting the laxity of recent years in terms of security, which had led to numerous tragedies, he started listing a series of new rules that applied immediately, in order to restore order within the school. The list was endless but could be simply summarized: Muggle-borns were no longer allowed to do anything except attend classes and stay in their common room. Between classes, they were to move in groups under the supervision of teachers and rely on the generosity of their peers to bring them clothes, books, mail, and more importantly, the food they would need. This amounted to stripping them of all freedom and making them dependent on pure-bloods and half-bloods. In the face of the protests that began to emanate from the great hall, he concluded his speech by proclaiming:

I am aware of the unjust and restrictive nature of these new restrictions. Unfortunately, recent events have shown that they are essential for your safety. At the same time, equally exceptional measures will be taken to quickly track down the person responsible for these attacks and restore the conditions to end this state of exception.

I have been appointed to bring radical and pragmatic solutions to the problems of this school. And that's what I will do, even if it offends conventional thinking. And this will start with thorough searches of the Slytherin common room and dormitories. But also with the random and regular use of Priori Incantatum on their wands.

As a former Slytherin, I am aware of the discriminatory nature of this measure, but let's not delude ourselves. The heir of Slytherin is unlikely to be found in Gryffindor. Furthermore, I hope with this measure to defuse the inevitable accusations of bias or ideological favoritism. My opinions and past are known to all, but rest assured. I accepted this position with the aim of serving my community and not to impose my views on the future generation of wizards and witches.

Harry received the announcements without the slightest emotion, from the Slytherin table where he now ate alone. For some time, he had been indifferent to everything. He no longer even took the time to respond to insults and barely reacted when he was the victim of a leg-locker curse in a corridor.

After discovering the bodies of his two friends, he had remained in a catatonic state, waiting. Waiting for what? Even today, Harry did not know. That the Weasley twins would appear and tell him that it was all just a bad joke? Instead, he was discovered by a flow of students coming out of class. Their faces filled with hatred, fear, and disgust, then gradually, they formed an accusatory circle around him. Realizing the danger, Harry stood up and tried to escape, but he was quickly pushed back to the center of the circle.

Fortunately, a teacher arrived before serious injuries could be inflicted on him. However, for the entire school, he was now guilty. And no matter that it should have seemed absurd to anyone who had known him even a little bit.

Only Cedric continued to believe he was innocent, but he stopped mentioning it in public after receiving howlers from his parents (other Hufflepuff students had warned them). Badgers are united, even when it comes to ostracizing one of their own. On reflection, there was also Luna Lovegood, the Ravenclaw with whom he now systematically partnered in Potions class, who didn't seem to believe in his guilt. But that didn't count. Harry wasn't even sure she believed that students had been attacked. Luna lived in her own world, and unfortunately, Harry couldn't join her there.

Since then, he hugged the walls and contented himself with going back and forth between the great hall, his classes, and the old classroom that Cédric had set up for him to sleep in. Returning to his dormitory was out of the question, and Chourave turned a blind eye to the rule violation this represented. He had been wandering like this for a week, like a zombie in the castle. Nothing mattered anymore, nothing brought him joy.

oOoOoOo

A few hours later

Mr. Potter. Please stay for a moment, I beg you.

Yes, Mr. Lockhart. Said Harry in an emotionless voice.

Once they were alone, Lockhart began.

If I asked you to stay, it's because I'm worried about you. You were my best student. But since this recent tragedy, your behavior has deteriorated significantly. And all these rumors. Of course, I don't believe a word of it, but since it's better to be safe than sorry and you are my favorite student, I decided it was my duty (...)

Get to the point, professor. Said Harry in a drawling voice.

You see, it's exactly this attitude that worries me. I'm telling you, you're on the wrong path, my boy. But it's normal. It's partly my fault too. Out of vanity, I displayed my power for all to see and gave you the impression of being powerless. After the recent drama, I understand that you no longer have the patience to patiently develop your powers. You want to be able to confront wizards as powerful as me as quickly as possible. And in a way, it's true. Dark magic allows its user to multiply their power. It's the only way for ordinary wizards like you to defend themselves against wizards like me. It's not for nothing that during the war the ministry authorized its aurors to use certain dark magics. However, the price to pay is far too high. And in the long run, there is always a virtuous and powerful wizard to stop them.

Here, I will write you a note so you can access the book from the reserve on the consequences of dark magic. You'll see, it's terrifying. I hope it knocks some sense into you. And then it will allow you to understand that only an exceptional being like me can hope to defeat wizards mastering these spells.

Harry took the parchment that Lockhart handed him without a word. This time, he didn't understand where Lockhart was going with this, but he didn't care. Could it be that Lockhart was sincere? Did even he believe him responsible for thedeath of his two best friends? After all, he might not have been wrong. If they had not associated with them. If he had died 11 years ago none of this would have happened.

oOoOoOo

A few hours later

Snape was fuming as he walked through the corridors. That little insolent had dared not to come to his detention. To think that given the context, he had decided to expedite this detention and release him quickly. He was going to make him understand that unlike his father, he was not above the rules. After 30 minutes of frenetic walking that only reinforced his anger, he came across a painting that had recently seen him heading towards the top of the west tower. It's not just that old fool Dumbledore who can use the portraits to his advantage, Snape congratulated himself. Like a predator charging at its prey, he accelerated to almost reach a running pace and pushed open more than he opened the door leading to a high balcony usually favored by lovers seeking privacy.

POTTER! He shouted, almost drooling from his lips.

Anyone would have been scared at this sight. But Harry didn't even turn around. He simply glanced up briefly and then went back to staring into space as he had been doing before his teacher's thunderous arrival.

Snape did not expect this reaction. Or rather, this lack of reaction. He was completely unsettled by it. They remained silent for several minutes.

Mr. Potter, may I know what you are currently thinking of doing?

No response

You are much too close to the edge. You could fall.

I believe that's more or less the idea.

At his words, Snape returned to a normal behavior (well, normal behavior for Snape)

Mr. Potter, I don't know what could have possibly been going through your head, or even if anything goes through it at all. However, you have a very strange way of paying tribute to your mother's sacrifice. But I suppose for a Potter, it's natural that others must sacrifice themselves for you. No need to consider the consequences of your behavior on others. You are a Potter, they will take care of it for you.

Precisely, I'm fed up with people dying because of me. Harry replied calmly.

Do you have such an oversized ego that you believe you are responsible for every misfortune that occurs on earth? You are not to blame for your mother's death. And even less so for that of your two friends.

You contradict yourself. Declared Harry with an emotionless voice that irritated Snape to the highest degree.

I am responsible. It is because of me that the Dark Lord tried to kill you. Snape resigned himself to confess to make him react.

Are you running out of sarcasm? Or has the new director imposed a quota of comforting lies on you?

Snape thought for a few seconds and decided to change his approach.

Mr. Potter. We both know you won't jump. So stop testing my patience and step back.

For any response, Harry began to stare into space. Snape felt it was a decisive moment and dared not do anything. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he stepped back and declared:

The heir of Slytherin is Voldemort, isn't it?

That's what Dumbledore thinks. But don't say his name.

He is here for me. He commits all his murders for me. As long as I am alive, he will try to take my blood to return.

If killing you were enough to ensure that the Dark Lord never returned, I would have finished you off a long time ago. With or without you, he will find a way to come back. With or without you, innocents will be killed and families will be broken. At the risk of repeating myself, you are not the center of the world, Mr. Potter. The only question is, do you want to flee from him or confront him? Despite all his faults, your father, at least, did not lack courage.

That kid had forced him to say something good about James Potter. He was going to make him pay dearly for it. After that, if he dared even pretend to take a step in the wrong direction, he would make sure he had a real reason to want to jump. But fortunately, the kid took another step back and left the dangerous area for good.

Harry had made his decision. He was going to fight him. He was going to get revenge.

Petrificus totalus. And 100 points less for Hufflepuff. Snape shouted, before forcefully taking him to the infirmary.

oOoOoOo

A few hours later

Hello Potter.

Harry woke up with a start. After Snape had brought him to the infirmary, Pomfrey had stuffed him with a potion that made him want to sleep. He didn't know what time it was, nor even what day it was. All he knew was that when he opened his eyelids slightly, he found Theodore Nott in front of his bed.

What are you doing here? said Harry, rubbing his eyes to try to shake off his sleep.

First of all, etiquette would require you to greet me in return. But even among purebloods, old traditions are lost. I have never really introduced myself to you. I am Theodore of the noble house of Nott. He declared in an emotionless voice.

I know who you are.

Etiquette dictates (...)

I am in pajamas in my bed, I just woke up, I'm hungry and my head is spinning. Forget the etiquette this time. Here, talk to me as if I were a common mudblood.

Etiquette requires me not to speak to inferior bloods. He replied robotically, without any hatred perceptible from him. It was as if he was reciting the shopping list.

They are not inferior. Harry exclaimed.

If you say so. He replied laconically, still as calm as ever, even though Harry had started to raise his voice.

Harry remained silent and stared at him angrily, while Nott looked around nonchalantly. He seemed bored and did not notice the animosity directed at him.

Let's forget about it. What do you want? Harry finally asked, tired of this staring contest in which he was the only participant.

Hi! I don't want anything. He replied. Harry waited a few seconds for him to continue. In vain. Harry finally resigned himself to asking:

What did you come to tell me?

Nothing at all. What a ridiculous idea. What could I possibly want to tell you?

Harry was confused.

Why did you come in this case? Why are you at the foot of my bed?

That's an excellent question to which I would like to have the answer myself. My ally Blaise from the Zabini house insisted that I come to your bedside. He says we should talk about Jenny. But as for me, I have nothing to say about her.

Were you close to her?

Of course not. It was a betrayal of his blood. It would have been a disgrace for the Nott house to associate with her.

Why did you help us, then?

Specify your question. As it stands, I cannot answer it.

You know? When Malfoy had locked him in the disused girls' bathroom on the second floor.

Malfoy had no business interfering in our family affairs, and even less so in this manner. The way Malfoy behaved dishonors all the great houses, and particularly the Nott house. And for a Nott, nothing is more important than honor. He said, letting slip for the first time a trace of emotion (but it was so faint that Harry thought he had imagined it).

Is that all? She was still your cousin. Were you never curious? Did you never want to form a bond with her?

No. Why would I have wanted that? Connections are illusions that put you in danger. Look where it got you to form connections with just anyone? In the end, you find yourself as alone as you were at the start. And still, you should consider yourself lucky. Most relationships end in a much worse way.

Worse? How could it be worse? She is dead.

Most friends or even family members end up betraying you. Most of the time, that's how ties are broken. At least they were loyal to you until the end. He stated in a voice now emanating a certain coldness.

Uh, are you 12 years old or 60 years old?

I am 12 years old. He replied in his always unflappable voice, without seeming to notice the sarcasm in the question.

But you do have friends, right? You can't live alone.

Why? It is the best way to survive.

And this Blaise Zabini you mentioned?

As I said, he is an ally, not a friend.

And your family?

What are you implying by that? As father ordered me, I am doing my best to comply with the demands of my role as heir of the noble and ancient house of Nott.

Harry let out a sigh. He didn't know why, but Nott's answers filled him with sadness. However, he didn't see the point in insisting.

Drop it. So it doesn't bother you that she's dead?

Nothing.

Really nothing?

Really nothing.

Not even a slight regret for not having spoken to him? For not having known him?

For the first time, Nott thinks before answering.

I should not have paid attention to her. When her mother chose to ignore the blood rules, she was permanently banished from the Nott house. For me, she should have been a half-blood, among the others. But at each of her clashes with Malfoy, I couldn't help but watch her. She looked a lot like my mother. Not just physically. But I couldn't ignore the blood laws at the risk of dishonoring my house and failing in my role as heir. Father would never have accepted it. It would not have been good for either of us.

They remained silent, having nothing more to say to each other. But it was not an unpleasant silence. After 30 minutes, Nott finally got up.

I have to go to class. I'll let Pomfresh know that you are awake.

Goodbye.

By the way. On behalf of the noble and ancient house of Nott, I offer you my condolences for the sad loss that afflicts you. Despite their blood, Lucas Cross and Jenny Nott were great wizards who did not deserve this sad fate.

Thank you, I suppose.

Ah! And it's probably not the ideal time, but you should take a few moments to discuss with the goblins the respect of your house's rights regarding the use of your name. Although the Potters are no longer part of the Sacred 28, certain abuses of the name of such an old family are (...) disturbing.

Oh, you're talking about the Potter-dildos. Yes, it bothered me too when I saw the ad in Witch Weekly. How can it work if they're shaped like a lightning bolt?

Nott blushed and left without saying anything as if he had the devil on his heels. For the first time in weeks, Harry started to laugh.

But he quickly became serious again. Harry had spent the last few weeks depressed and wandering aimlessly in a fog. Now, it was over. Now, he had a purpose. As soon as he managed to convince Pomfrey to let him leave the infirmary, he would find the heir and make him pay. But the task was immense, and he didn't know where to start. He looked at his bag and found the note Lockhart had given him to access the restricted section, which he had completely forgotten about.

Decidedly, Lockhart was a genius. He had understood what he needed before he did. And if the professor gave him his blessing, it couldn't be a bad thing.

He still remembered the fight between Ginny and Jenny. He didn't know half of the spells that had been used and would have been quite incapable of doing anything, even though it was only a first-year student.

In his current state, he would be swept away by the heir.

The first step was to become stronger quickly. And for that, there was only one way. With Lockhart's word and a lot of insistence, the librarian agreed to let him access the restricted section, stressing that these were not books a first-year should be exposed to (and that his teacher was an irresponsible idiot). He pretended to consult an advanced potion manual while discreetly casting a copying spell on some dark magic books.

Tonight, he would search for a spell that could make the heir suffer as much as he had suffered. And he would master it even if it took him the rest of the school year.