Chapter Six of ‘Natural Selection’- Unnatural Selection

[lomonaaeren]

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Chapter Six—Unnatural Selection

Harry took a deep breath when he recognized the grey owl winging towards him at breakfast. It had been a few days since his parents’ visit, and in that time, he hadn’t heard anything from them, and Angela hadn’t spoken to him, and no one had written to him.

Harry had tried not to take that as a bad sign. If Sirius and Remus were outraged about him being a Parselmouth or courting Tom, surely they would have written before now. But maybe they were also so upset about it that they couldn’t trust themselves to write a letter before now.

“It’s all right, mate.”

Harry started and glanced at Ron, who was also watching the owl, Sirius’s Stormcloud, fly towards them. Ron gave Harry a smile and nudged him in the ribs with an elbow.

“I’ve watched you with Sirius, remember? No way would he ever give you up unless someone was forcing him to. And I don’t think your parents could ever force him to.”

I might be able to.

But Harry didn’t intend to, not unless Sirius or maybe Remus was utterly irrational about Parseltongue. He took a deep breath, fed Stormcloud a piece of bacon when she landed next to him, and took the letter. His name was scrawled with a lot of inkblots and something near the end that looked like an exclamation point Sirius hadn’t had the time to finish before someone took the letter away from him.

And if he really was angry, he could always have sent a Howler, Harry pointed out to himself before he opened it.

Harry,

I’m so sorry to realize that you’ve been hiding this secret for so long. It’s not like I ever thought you would be a Parselmouth, but I’m not upset about it, either. And I gave both James and Lily a piece of my mind for making you hide it.

“Told you,” said Ron, making Harry jump. He hadn’t realized Ron was reading over his shoulder.

Harry shoved Ron half-heartedly with his elbow, and went back to reading.

I don’t even know what they meant to gain from doing that. Did they think it would hurt less if it came out later? That making you hide it for years would make it wither away? I don’t know, and I have to tell you that their explanations didn’t impress me, either.

I’m sure Angela didn’t take it well, but don’t let her worry you. She’s in a weird place, from the letters she’s written me, wanting to be noticed as who she is and separated from her parents, but also wanting to be respected as a Potter. Apparently one of the other Gryffindor girls has been telling her nonsense about how she’s less powerful because she’s a half-blood or something.

Harry opened his mouth and could say nothing. Luckily, Hermione, who had crowded in on his other side to read over Harry’s left shoulder, had plenty to say.

“That’s nonsense! Haven’t they read those studies done by purebloods in the ICW that finally established there is no difference based on family strength or blood status? I’m going to find out who did that, and—”

Harry tuned out Hermione’s ranting—something he had practice doing—and went on reading.

I’ve tried to help her, but she needs to help herself. If she rants at you, just remember that it’s coming from a place of being concerned about herself more than thinking your parents are right.

And I think your performance in Defense over the last few years may have contributed to that impression of hers, too. She would have seen a brother who was magically powerful for his first few years in school and part of her childhood, and then seemed to dive into the mediocre. I’m not writing this so you can blame yourself, so please don’t take it that way! It’s just that Angela is worried about her blood and her power and her social status and everything is mixed up together.

Harry nodded slowly. It made a lot more sense that it was something personal to Angela than just that she thought Harry shouldn’t question their parents, which she did all the bloody time.

Of course Remus and I are still fond of you, and if your parents are arses after school and won’t let you stay with them, you’re welcome to stay with us. Please don’t think of leaving the country. And don’t think of moving in with Professor Riddle. He can bloody well provide a house instead of expecting you to share his Hogwarts quarters or something.

Sirius’s handwriting ended there, and another familiar hand took over.

Sirius speaks for me, Harry, although I think it’s perfectly fine if you do want to live with Professor Riddle, but I hope you’ll be discreet. It sounds like Albus is on your side in this, but I don’t want you to subject to accusations of favoritism.

All our love,

Padfoot and Moony.

Harry took a long, slow breath, and put the letter down. Even if Mum and Dad never came around, at least he knew he had Sirius and Remus’s support. And they weren’t asking a lot of questions about why he had kept his Parseltongue secret, either. They understood.

“You smell happy,” Esmeralda said, lifting her head so that it reached the level of the bench. Hermione jumped a little, but she was getting used to Esmeralda rapidly, and asking Harry constant questions about how having a familiar enhanced his magic. Ron rolled his eyes a little and turned away to argue with Dean. Probably about the Chudley Cannons.

“Sirius and Remus are able to accept that I’m a Parselmouth,” Harry told her, touching her head and offering her an egg. She barely thought of any tidbit she didn’t have to dislocate her jaw to swallow as a meal, but she graciously accepted it. “The ones I told you about who can turn into a dog and a wolf?”

“Good. Then I can hunt the one who can turn into prey.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Just because my dad is a stag—”

“Good morning, Harry.”

Harry started and glanced up when he realized Tom—well, no, right now he was Professor Riddle—was standing on the other side of the table. He managed a shaky smile when he saw the way Professor Riddle’s eyes were narrowed. “It is a good morning,” Harry said, and reached for another egg to feed Esmeralda.

Professor Riddle gave him a genuine smile, and turned away to sweep up to the high table. Ron leaned close to Harry. “What was that all about?”

“He must have seen Stormcloud land,” Harry said. He gave another piece of bacon to the owl, since he would need to take time to write a reply and so he didn’t have it right now. “He wanted to find out how upset I was.”

“I don’t like that he just assumes any communication from your family is going to make you upset,” Hermione muttered.

“Well, so far he’s been right, hasn’t he?” Ron asked. “And he believed Harry and went away when Harry reassured him.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s right to assume, Ron! It sounds like he’s trying to get Harry away from his family and isolate him, which is a really bad sign!”

And then they were off, bickering in a way that seemed to be building up to a major fight, something Harry hadn’t seen since they started dating. They didn’t notice when he left the table, Stormcloud flying behind him and Esmeralda crawling at his feet.

If he hurried, he would have time to write his grateful letter to Sirius and Remus before Transfiguration began.

*

“I must say that you have been a good influence on the boy, Tom.”

Tom looked up with raised eyebrows as Minerva sat down on the couch next to him in the staff’s lunch room. Technically, professors and others who worked for the school, such as Filch, could come here at any time to enjoy a meal in peace, but Albus encouraged them to appear for breakfast and dinner at least.

Minerva was someone he had always had a somewhat prickly relationship with. She considered herself more knowledgeable about Transfiguration, even those aspects of it that properly belonged to Defense, than anyone else, and would argue about that at a moment’s notice. She also took exception when Tom removed points from Gryffindors or assigned them detentions, which he had to do fairly often.

But she enjoyed debating, and she was intelligent and took no nonsense, and they recognized that in each other.

“Has he been doing better in Transfiguration?”

“Yes. He barely scraped an Acceptable, as I’m sure you know by now. And to know that it might have been at the insistence of his family…”

“I honestly don’t think they told Harry to do badly in other subjects,” Tom said, both because he did believe it and because if he didn’t, Minerva might go off and scold James and Lily Potter. Tom would much prefer she leave both of them to him. “Only Defense, to avoid attracting my attention and my…possessiveness.”

“Then why did he do so badly in Transfiguration?”

“Well, consider where his talents lie, Minerva. Spellcrafting, Defensive magic, offensive magic. There is nothing that says he has to be good at Transfiguration merely because his father was.”

Minerva looked supremely unconvinced.

Tom only smiled at her and returned to his sandwich for a few bites, hearty pork and mustard, with a few slices of ham added. He ate more meat than most other magical people, given his Parselmouth status and the predatory edge it added to his consciousness. He wondered if Harry had noticed his craving for meat yet, or had attributed it to something else.

“I think that he would have done better if he had dared,” Minerva said at last. “And I tried to speak to James and Lily about it, but they didn’t seem concerned. Now I know.”

Tom swallowed a laugh along with the last of his sandwich, and held out his hand for Nagini, who was resting in a corner of the large bright room. Sunlight shining through enchanted windows still warmed her. “Will you want me to speak to him about doing better on his Transfiguration NEWT than he did on the OWL, then?”

“Yes. Since he doesn’t seem to have come to me with any of his problems, he probably wouldn’t do it now.”

Minerva sounded wistful. Tom snorted into his sleeve. Harry simply wasn’t the typical Gryffindor, and probably hadn’t been even in his first two years before his Parseltongue came in.

“I’ll speak with him about it,” was all Tom said. “But since you singled me out as a good influence a few minutes ago, may I assume Harry is doing better in his practical Transfiguration work?”

Minerva chatted happily away about Harry’s classwork for the rest of lunch, and Tom nodded and made encouraging and admiring noises. He did think Minerva was one of the better professors on staff, knowing how to teach as well as the subject matter she had to cover.

When he stood and left the room, Nagini only waited until they were a corridor away before she asked, “Are we going to se Harry and Esmeralda?”

Tom paused and blinked at her. “I didn’t realize you missed them,” he said. It was also unlike Nagini to wait to ask after someone she missed until they were away from a human who didn’t speak Parseltongue, but Nagini had perhaps tried to be considerate of Minerva and not unnerve her by hissing.

Unusual as that was. Perhaps Harry and Esmeralda were having an effect on Tom’s familiar, too.

“Yes,” Nagini said, moving her head in the nod she had learned from him and would mock only when she wanted to really get his attention. “I enjoy listening to Esmeralda. She is most amusing as she learns about things. And I enjoy the way you smell when you are with Harry. He touches me nicely, too.”

Tom snorted. “You lazy snake. You only want his help to scratch off some of the skin that’s clinging so stubbornly to you.” Nagini only got lazier than usual when she was shedding, which meant it took her even longer to get the skin off.

“Nevertheless.”

Tom nodded and turned away. “Let’s find them. I wish to hear from Harry himself how he’s holding up after his godfather’s letter this morning.”

*

“Harry.”

Harry sighed as he turned around and saw Tom behind him—and it was definitely Tom now, not Professor Riddle. He hadn’t realized that there was a low throbbing behind his navel, like a Portkey he couldn’t take, which was soothed only by Tom’s presence.

“Hello, sir,” Harry said, mostly to irritate Tom, and watched Tom’s nostrils flare before he stepped forwards and embraced Harry. They were near the top of the Astronomy Tower, if not all the way there, and there was only one portrait in the corridor, an old witch who gave them a frosty look before departing.

“Your godfather and Remus Lupin were understanding?” Tom murmured into his ear.

Harry sighed and nodded, letting himself relax fully against Tom. Esmeralda and Nagini were hissing together, but he ignored them. “Yeah. They said they didn’t care at all, and I could stay with them after school lets out and I take my NEWTS if my parents were still being arses about it.”

Tom’s arms tightened around him. “I do not believe your parents will change their minds quickly, if ever, but you will be staying with me.”

“If—if you want me to, of course.”

Tom drew back and stared down at him. “What is this? Have you decided you don’t believe in me?” For some reason, his eyes gleamed. “What else do I need to do to prove myself to you, Harry?”

“No. It’s not that. It’s just—don’t you want your own space? Do you want me to just move into your Hogwarts quarters or whatever?”

Tom snorted. “I do have a separate house, Harry, although admittedly one I don’t spend a great deal of time in during the school year. And as I will be leaving Hogwarts after this term in any case, we will be passing a great deal of time together.”

“What? You’re leaving Hogwarts? Is it because of me?”

“In a way. I want to spend every moment I can with you, not apart.”

“But....” Harry felt ridiculously unmoored, as if he’d woken one morning and found that his Parseltongue was gone. “Everyone says you’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Hogwarts has ever seen!”

“So what?” Tom slid a hand around Harry’s waist and leaned in close to nuzzle his neck. “Does that mean that I must not have a life apart from my teaching? That I must put that before my relationship with you?”

It still made Harry flush ridiculously warm to hear Tom talk about a “relationship.” He heard Esmeralda hissing at him in amusement, and flushed harder, leaning back against Tom. “No. Just—if you’re that good at it, you must care about teaching more than you do most things, and I don’t want you to give up something you enjoy because of me.”

Tom was silent for a good minute, pulling his hand through Harry’s hair. Harry closed his eyes and wondered what he should hope for, that Tom was rethinking abandoning his job or that he wasn’t.

Harry had meant what he said about Tom’s teaching and not wanting to come between Tom and it. But at the same time, the thought of all this attention focused on him, all the time…

Harry swallowed. Perhaps he would grow tired or wary of it, but at the moment, he didn’t think so.

“Harry! Harry, are you here?”

Tom pulled back and gave Harry such an incredulous and offended look that Harry had to swallow laughter. “What is she doing here?” Tom hissed as he set about disentangling himself from Harry, and both Esmeralda and Nagini turned to look down the corridor.

“Our dad helped make a map of the school with his friends,” Harry murmured, answering the question Tom really wanted him to, which was how Angela had known to find them here. “When they were students, I mean. It shows where everyone in the school is at all times.”

“Then she has to know that you’re here with me.”

“Yes, that’s probably one of the reasons she’s pretending not to,” Harry said with a little sigh, just as Angela came around the corner, hastily tucking the Marauder’s Map back into her robe pocket. Harry shook his head at her.

Angela decided not to notice this. “Harry!” she said, and gave him a strained smile. “I wanted to apologize for assuming some of the same things that Mum and Dad did about you. I wanted to, um, talk to you. Do you have time to talk right now?” She studiously kept her head turned away from Esmeralda, Nagini, and Tom.

“All right,” Harry said, and nodded at Tom before he walked down the corridor to his sister’s side. Esmeralda flowed behind him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

Tom grimaced at him, probably for the title, before turning and disappearing down the corridor, out of sight. Harry sighed and looked at Angela. “You said you wanted to apologize?”

“Yeah.” Angela smoothed her hands down her robe and took a deep breath. “I was wrong. Parseltongue doesn’t make you evil. It might even make you more powerful, not less. Did you know that Parseltongue was pretty much passed on exclusively in pureblood families?” She was chattering, tugging Harry towards the steps down from the Astronomy Tower with insistent hands.

“Yeah, I knew. Mostly because Slytherin’s descendants were arseheholes who wouldn’t marry Muggleborns.”

“Huh?” Angela blinked at him.

“Just that blood purity is nonsense,” Harry said, and reached down to cast a Warming Charm on Esmeralda when she complained about being cold. “I did a lot of research on Parseltongue when I found out I had it, you know. Just the fact that I have it and there’s no record of anyone from the Slytherin family marrying into ours closer than a few centuries ago means that it’s not as much of a pureblood-only gift as everyone thought.” He hoped that might make Angela reconsider anything she was thinking about blood purity nonsense.

“Right.” Angela’s face turned red. “Um. I’m sorry. Good night.”

Harry stared as she ran off, and glanced down at Esmeralda. “Do human girls make any more sense to a female snake?”

“Only humans with Parseltongue make sense to me,” Esmeralda said. “The great division is not between male and female, but snakes and Speakers, and other humans.”

Harry gave her a faint smile, and led her back to Gryffindor Tower. In some ways, he could see the sense of that.