Growing up Pureblooded

You're A Halfblood

The week after they had stolen the Stone, Aries was making his getaway from a revenge prank he had played on Percy Weasley when he ran directly into Professor Quirrell. "Excuse me, sir," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you." "That's q-quite all right, M-mister B-black," Quirrell said. He pulled Aries aside into an empty classroom. "I have heard th-that you and your c-cousin have a b-bit of interest in the Ph-philosopher's Stone." Aries was surprised, but did not allow it to show on his face. "I don't know what you mean, Professor," he said. "I've read about it, of course, but so far as I know, very few have ever successfully made it. The only existing Stone, I think, belongs to Nicolas Flamel."

Quirrell narrowed his eyes, and Aries suddenly felt a stabbing pain in his forehead. Then came a sudden hissing noise, but Quirrell's lips did not move. It sounded as though the noise were coming from the back of the professor's head. "We have heard other things too," the strange voice hissed in Parseltongue. "We have heard that you claim to be the Heir of Slytherin. How can that be, when the true Heir is none other than Lord Voldemort?"

Part of Aries wanted very much to answer, but something told him that would be foolish. He kept quiet. "Can he even understand me?" the voice droned on. "What sort of Heir is he to Salazar Slytherin if he cannot speak the ancient language of the serpents?" "If I may ask, sir," Aries addressed Quirrell, ignoring the strange voice, "where did you hear that I was interested in the Philosopher's Stone?" "Miss Granger told me," Quirrell said. "She said you were planning to steal it."

How could she have known? Aries wondered. He thought quickly, and then spoke. "Granger must have misunderstood, sir," he said. "She was in the library when I was talking with my cousin Draco about the forbidden corridor on the third floor. We were wondering whether it might have something to do with the Chamber of Secrets Slytherin supposedly left behind, the one only his true Heir can open. I said that I'd like to sneak inside." He furrowed his brow. "But that wouldn't have anything to do with the Philosopher's Stone, would it, sir? So far as I know, I've never even brought that up." He forcibly brightened his expression. "Might there be a Philosopher's Stone inside Slytherin's Chamber, sir?"

Quirrell chuckled. "Wh-what a f-fanciful idea, Mr Black. That w-will be all." Aries turned around to leave. "Wait," the strange voice hissed, and Aries stopped dead in his tracks before he could realize just what a terrible mistake that was. "You do speak the language of the serpents, don't you?" the voice continued to hiss. "Turn around when your betters are speaking to you, boy."

Aries laughed, but he did turn around to face Quirrell. "You are hardly my better," he hissed. "I am Slytherin's True Heir, descended in faithful descent from two pureblood lines that stretch back to the days of Merlin. Who are you?" Quirrell turned around slowly and removed his turban, revealing a hideous face on the back of his head. The face's eyes glowed red, and it had no nose, only snake-like slits. "I am Lord Voldemort," the voice hissed. "And I am the True Heir of Slytherin."

Aries wrinkled his nose. He thought the face was the most disgusting thing he ever saw. He snorted. "If you are really Slytherin's Heir, then why do you use a pseudonym?" he asked. "If you were a decent pureblood you wouldn't feel compelled to go by that ridiculous name. 'Lord Slytherin' would sound much more impressive." He smirked. "As would 'Lord Black'." He paused. "My great-grandfather always suspected you were some witch's bastard. Who was your dad, some filthy Muggle?" Voldemort roared in rage, and Aries knew he had guessed exactly right. "You're a half-blood, aren't you?" he taunted. "What irony! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, a half-blood!"

"KILL HIM!" Voldemort roared in English, and Quirrell turned around, his wand drawn. Aries raised his own wand, and they began to duel. Aries used all the Dark curses he knew, and some which he thought he didn't, but Quirrell was an accomplished duelist. With Voldemort helping his opponent, even Aries's Parseltongue abilities didn't seem to give him an edge. With mounting terror, Aries realized that there was no way he could win. He was dueling to kill, and even so he could only barely manage to hold off Quirrell's attacks.

In one horrible instant, Quirrell's Cutting Curse got through, and Aries collapsed to the floor, bleeding profusely. Lord Voldemort cackled. "You were lying about your ability to speak Parseltongue," he said in a high voice. "Were you lying about the Stone too? Are you looking for a way to break through Dumbledore's defenses? Tell me what you know!"

Harry lay on the stone floor, his heart thumping violently within his chest, and something cold and hard pressing into it from the outside. The Portkey, he thought. He was still wearing it. He let out a low, strangled hiss, and vanished, leaving Quirrell and Voldemort behind. He suddenly appeared on the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room, covered in blood. Harry could dimly hear the shrieks and cries of his Housemates through a thick haze. "Great Merlin!" Fred shouted. "Aries!" The twins ran to Aries's side. "Who did this?" George demanded. "Quirrell," Aries whispered. "He's been possessed by the Dark Lord." Then he passed out.

Dean Thomas ran off to get Madam Pomfrey, whilst Lee Jordan went to fetch Professor McGonagall. Fred and George sat by Aries, and not even Percy dared say anything to them about it. In all the hustle and bustle, no one noticed Hermione Granger slip up the stairs to her dormitory, a horrified expression on her face, and copious tears streaming down her cheeks.