Harry Potter's Pen Pal

Chapter Eighteen

 "So anyway," Macmillan was saying in annoyance, "I told Justin to hide in our dormitory, but he said nothing doing. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while ⎯ but he doesn't think Potter's the heir! Of course, Justin's been waiting for this ever since he let slip that he was Muggleborn. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" asked Hannah Abbot.

Neville, who was sitting nearby them, bristled. "Harry would never hurt any Muggleborn," he snapped. "Have you forgotten who his mother is?"

Most of the Hufflepuffs looked sheepish, but Macmillan just snorted. "'Course you'd defend Potter, Longbottom, your one of his. Anyway, he's a Parselmouth, and have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."

Neville scoffed. "Has Harry ever been mean to any of you?"

"He's a Slytherin," Macmillan said stubbornly.

"So was Merlin!"

Everyone gaped at him. "That's not true," Macmillan sputtered.

"It's in Hogwarts, a History," Neville sneered.

"Well," Macmillan sputtered, "Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch, and his cat got attacked-"

"Everyone has run-ins with Filch," Neville countered.

"That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter, and he got attacked," Macmillan argued.

"Harry was in the hospital wing when that happened!" Neville snarled, leaping to his feet.

Harry stepped out from behind the bookshelf he was hiding behind, saying calmly, "Neville, it's fine." He rather enjoyed the Hufflepuff's horrified looks.

Fuming, the boy sat down.

"Hello," Harry said dryly. "Do you know which section is the magical snake section? I can't seem to find it."

"Going to take out the books so no one can read them?" Macmillan accused.

"Now, why would I hide knowledge, Macmillan?" Harry whispered in a soft, cold voice, making all the Hufflepuffs except Neville turn white. He changed the subject. "I hear you've been having doubts about me... care to explain?"

Macmillan swallowed. "The Defense Club ⎯ you set the snake on Justin."

"Tell me, Macmillan," Harry said lazily, "can you speak Parseltongue?"

"No!" Macmillan said indignantly.

"Then can you really tell me what I said?"

The boy was speechless again.

"I am a Slytherin," Harry pointed out. "Do you really think I would do something as Gryffindorish as attack Finch-Fletchley where everyone can see me? No. If I did want to attack Finch-Fletchley, I would do it where no one is around. I don't want to attack Muggleborns, though; I respect them."

"What about Granger? You've treated her rudely," Macmillan pointed out triumphantly. "And I've heard you hate those Muggles you used to live with."

"They treated me worse than Lucius Malfoy treats house-elves," Harry said in a voice so angry and cold that the Hufflepuffs shrank backwards. Even Neville looked pale. "It's not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them. I would like to see you try it." He took a deep breath. "Any other stupid questions?"

No one spoke.

"Good." Harry glared at Macmillan and his sympathisers and returned to his search for a book on magical snakes.

He was interrupted by a shriek of alarm. Harry was about to go see what had happened when Peeves came flying into the library, looking pale.

"ATTACK! ATTACK! A DOUBLE ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAAAACK!"

Instantly, the silence of the library was broken by screams and shouts. Madam Pince tried to regain order.

"Peeves," Harry said firmly over the noise, "calm down. What happened?"