Harry Potter (Slytherin)

  CHAPTER ONE OWL POST   Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways. For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year. For another, he really wanted to do his homework but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of night. And he also happened to be a wizard. It was nearly midnight, and he was lying on his stomach in bed, the blankets drawn right over his head like a tent, a flashlight in one hand and a large leather-bound book (A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot) propped open against the pillow. Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, "Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless discuss." The quill paused at the top of a likely-looking paragraph. Harry Pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, moved his flashlight closer to the book, and read: Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) wer...

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Dobby’s Reward   For a moment there was silence as Harry, Ron, Malfoy, and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Harry’s case) blood. Then a cold voice spoke. “Draco.” It was Mr. Malfoy, who had been sitting in front of the fire. He slowly stood up and strode toward his son, who seemed to be shrinking under his father’s piercing gaze. Harry, however, was looking past them. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Dobby was also there, he smiled and waved timidly at Harry. Fawkes went whooshing past Harry’s ear and settled on Dumbledore’s shoulder, just as a cold hand was placed on Harry’s shoulder, it was Mr. Malfoy. “Thank you for saving this idiot.” He said coolly. Malfoy seemed to shrink more. Harry thought that was rather uncalled for. “But,” Lucius continued. “How did you do it?” “I think we’d all lik...

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN The Heir of Slytherin   He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Malfoy? He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir. Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Harry had to crane his ne...