The snake who lived

Book 2: The Chamber of secrets

"I'm wondering what would be the best magic spell to put it on fire…"

Harry Potter, Harry Potter et la Chambre des Secrets, page 15

Prologue: The Masons

Author's notes: Well, here it is. The first part of the second book of my serie of the snake-who-lived… sorry, I'm tired and my brain's a bit… off. (Dodges tomatoes at the horrible pun) Ack! Sorry!

For all of you newcomers, please read the first part first. It's for a good reason this is book 2. It's because it's the second book. (D'uh). So, don't go asking questions like "What the hell, when did that happen?!" and "Who's Elmira?" passing by "Draco's OOC!!"…

…actually, say the last one if it's true, as I said before, I want EVERYONE's opinion… if, of course, they took the time to read the previous book. -_-

Did I make myself clear? This is book 2.

Now, people who have read J.L Matthew-sensei-kami-sama's Slytherin Rising, you'll find something very similar here. Although I did inspire myself off the various Slytherin Harry fics out there (And SR), what will happen is the logical result. I'll keep it quiet until it happens. Newcomers who haven't read SR yet, get ready for one HECK of a surprise.

With that said, let's go right along!!

At first glance, Harry Potter looked like a mostly typical child, if a bit thin and small, and looking a bit silly with his messy black hair and enormous glasses. However, everyone who knew him for real knew he wasn't, whether they liked it or not. And the Dursley family, who had the task of watching over him during the summer, fit in the second category.

Even though they hated it, however, they had no choice but to tough it and hope the summer passed quickly. Why? Well…

"Change the channel, Dudley."

"Why should I?!"

"Azrabl—" *Click* "There, wasn't too tough, was it? Didn't even have to curse you for it."

…having started his first year at Hogwarts as a Slytherin, Harry had learned how to milk whatever he had to get the maximum he could. And so he was doing, 'milking' the Dursleys fear of magic and the fact that they didn't know he wasn't authorized to do magic. Of course, they weren't able to detect the small sparks coming from his wand. Amazing how even the enormous pachyderm that was Uncle Vernon trembled in fear at the sight of few harmless sparks…

…of course, the sight of a 250 pounds pile of fat and skin tremble was a bit nauseating as well.

And so, here he was, sitting in the comfiest chair of the living room, the chair usually reserved to his fat uncle, with Nemesis wrapped around his neck and his wand proudly laid on his lap, listening to TV to the channel he wanted and with Dudley, who couldn't survive without his near permanent connection to the screen, serving his every whims like some terrorized dog.

…life was good.

 Tomorrow was his birthday, and the Dursleys were giving him the prefect present by ignoring it. He hoped, however, that his friends hadn't forgotten.

Blaise Zabini was in Italy, visiting her family. Since only a week had passed, Harry doubted any letters she sent him would be here yet. As for Draco Malfoy, he had given the other boy a strict order not to write him, which he was most likely following himself.

He wasn't expecting much from those two. One or two letters from Blaise during the whole summer and probably nothing from Draco. However, he wondered what on earth were Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley doing; he hadn't received a single message from his Gryffindor friends.

…worse than that, Hedwig had come back from Hermione's empty-taloned. The girl hadn't replied, for reasons he ignored.

He hadn't received a single letter, actually. It was almost as if the previous year had been a dream, and that he hadn't studied magic, played Quidditch or kicked Quirrell's two-faced butt in a wit fight.

'course, Nemesis was there to remind him it was all too real.

That day, at the supper table where Harry was, to the Dursleys, regretfully admitted, uncle Vernon took everyone's attention.

"I trust you all know what day tomorrow is." He declared.

Harry looked up. His birthday?! They couldn't possibly…

He absentmindedly checked in the sky had suddenly turned pink with purple polka dots and if there was a flight of migrating pigs heading south.

"If everything goes well, tomorrow, I'll have signed the biggest and most successful deal of my career."

Nope, not pink sky, no polka dots and the only pig he saw was sitting on the other end of the table. He should have remembered, Vernon had talked about it for weeks, a deal that would assure Grunnings' survival for the next three years at least.

"Mr and Mrs Mason are coming here tomorrow night to sign the contract. Absolutely everything has to be perfect. I think we'd better review the program again. We'll all have to be at our posts at eight O'clock sharp. Petunia, you'll be?"

"In the living room, ready to welcome them with all the dignity they deserve."

'Oh, you'll laugh and mock them then?' Harry thought, barely holding back the smirk that threatened to slip on his face.

"Good, very well." Vernon agreed. "And you, Dudley?"

"I'll wait by the door to open it as soon as they'll ring."

Harry mentally snorted. 'Yeah, then they'll REALLY know it's a setup. He should wait a few second before opening.'

He then added, in a false, almost falsetto voice, "May I rid you of your coats, Mr and Mrs Mason?"

"Oh, they'll simply adore him!!" Petunia squealed.

'Compared to what, a bee sting?' Harry sneered mentally.

"Excellent, Dudley." Vernon agreed, before turning to Harry.

"And you…?"

"I'll come down the stairs, with my best manners and help make the lot of you look respectable." Harry mentally hummed the theme to 'Mission impossible'.

Vernon grumbled something undecipherable and glared at Harry, who let the tip of his wand pop out of his sleeve and produce a bunch of green sparks. The man suddenly found the wall behind Harry very interesting, before turning toward the snake coiled around Harry's neck.

"And that snake?"

"Nemesis will be calmly laying in my bed, not making a sound." Harry assured, petting the snake.

"Geesss, sssoundzzz fffamiliar."

"Just this once." Harry hissed, unheard as Vernon queried Petunia on her 'mission', to be done at 8:15.

"It better be." The snake grumbled.

"I'll announce that supper is served."  She said.

"And you, Dudley, you'll say…"

'We're eating pork today, I'll be right there in the oven.' Harry mentally filled in for the fat boy.

"May I accompany you to the dining room, mrs Mason?" He declared, holding one of his porkish arms out to an imaginary lady.

'Might as well get the cue cards.' Harry flatly thought.

"My perfect little gentleman!!" Petunia declared with enough sweetness to her voice to rot a dozen dentist's offices right to the basement.

Skipping over Harry, quite fearfully, Vernon turned to Petunia.

"We should prepare few compliments to give them during the supper. Any suggestions?"

"Vernon told me you were an exceptional golf player, mister Mason… Where did you find such a wonderfully elegant dress, mrs Mason?"

'Imagine she comes here in pants and shirt.' Harry mentally smirked. 'You can't pre-plan compliments, it's a basic planning rule.'

"Perfect. Dudley?"

"I could say 'We had a redaction to do at school about our favorite hero… I picked you, Mr Mason.'"

It was too much for Petunia, who promptly squealed and, tears in her eyes, hugged her child, as much as she could since her long, thin arms couldn't get around the fat boy. Vernon was nodding solemnly while Harry's smirk was having trouble not to reveal itself. Nemesis, however, had no such restriction and was letting out loud guffaws of hilarity.

"And you?"

"Oh, I'll be sitting right here, eating my part and seeing what I can say." Harry said with a shrug.

"You'd better watch your mouth, boy." Vernon snapped.

"It's not like I have anything to gain by ruining this deal, Vernon." Harry retorted, making sure his wand was showing and shining softly. "In fact, the better off you guys are, the better off my summers are."

"The Masons know you're our nephew, but they don't know you live here. They think you're just saying here for a short time."

"Fine with me." Harry said with a shrug. "I'll just have to think of a reason why I'm staying with you lot."

And with that, he walked out of the dining room and up the stairs.

"'We had a redakshhion to do at shhhkool about our fffavorite hiiiro.'" Nemesis repeated in a false falsetto. " 'I picked you'. Honessstly, who'll fffall fffor zzzat one?!"

Between his laughter, Harry closed the door and petted Nemesis. "If they do, I'll start worrying for the IQ of the muggle world." He replied.

The following day was a mess of running around. Everyone was busy getting everything ready; A pyramid of fine crystal glasses was installed in the kitchen, allowing Petunia to show how well off they were. Pictures were moved from the entry hall to the dining room and the living room, although they clashed horribly with the walls. In fact, Harry mused, anything that bore the face of a Dursley would clash horribly with anything except a junkyard.

Everyone was busy, except Harry, that is. He was still installed in the couch in front of the TV, comfortably laying and listening, on purpose, to Dudley's favorite cartoon, which he couldn't watch because he was getting his clown costume… erm… I mean… Smell things… Smelting uniform – sorry – installed correctly on his imposing form.

Everyone had picked their best clothes, if they can be called such. Only by complete and total annihilation of all sense of taste and sight of the world could the Dursleys manage a fashion statement… even then, their chances were nearly dead.

For Vernon, the choice had flatlined at his horrible two-sizes too small maroon ensemble who's buttons threatened to pop off. To the super-extended jacket and pants that almost went up all the way to his knees he added a red bow tie and a pair of canary yellow socks.

As for Petunia, it had kicked the bucket on a candy pink dress who's original purpose was probably to accentuate the curves of a female human body. However, given the fact that she had as many curves as a two-by-four, the effect was totally wasted and went quite the other way. Add to it a heavy, cream pearl necklace and pair of white high-heels she was tilting on top of and the result was nothing short of the apocalypse.

And as much as Harry would wish otherwise, his best clothes were nothing but rags.

'We'll be lucky if they don't run away at the first sight' Harry mentally sighed. Number four, Privet Drive had never looked like such a clown house before.

By eight, everyone was ready. To Harry, stationed up the stairs, watching the Dursleys get ready was like seeing actors getting ready for their cues in a bad soap opera. A bad soap opera for blind people, since anyone with good sight would take immediate fear at the horrible clash between Petunia's dress and the floor, the walls, the roof… the whole world, in fact.

Already, a flaw appeared in their plan; at 8:20, the doorbell finally rang. A well dressed couple walked in, the man dressed in a grey business suit while the woman was impeccably clad… also in a business suit, with shirt and skirt. Neither wore a coat, as it was quite warm outside. Yet, Dudley still said his cue. Harry almost burst out laughing.

'Incoming problems in the plan!!' Harry thought in general hilarity, his chest shaking and hurting from holding back the laughs.

"Erm… no, thank you." Mrs Mason said to Dudley, who blushed embarrassedly.

'Forget it, Hufflepuff would be too smart for them.' Harry mentally snorted.

"Welcome, Mr and Mrs Mason." Petunia said in a sing-song voice that sounded so natural Harry unconsciously looked for the cue cards. "I am Petunia Dursley, Vernon's wife."

After short handshakes, the Dursleys tried to lead the Masons in the living room. However, Mrs Mason spotted the sole person here who was neither.

"And who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Harry Potter, their nephew." He said smoothly, much to the astonishment of Vernon, who looked surprised that Harry had managed to sound natural. For good show, Harry added a perfectly natural-sounding "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Uncle Vernon said a lot of good about the two of you."

"So polite!" Mrs Mason said with a smile. "His parents did a great job raising him… you must be so proud to have him in your family!"

"Y..Yes, well… hmm…" Vernon stuttered, his face alternating between an embarrassed white and an infuriated purple.

"M…May I guide you to the living room?" Petunia managed with a fake smile on her face and a warning look at Harry.

As the two visitors followed the inspiration for clothing incinerators, Vernon turned an irate glare toward Harry and grabbed him violently by the shoulders.

"Don't you dare try to make us look bad, you ungrateful brat!" He hissed dangerously.

Keeping his cool, Harry smirked. "Don't worry, I won't try." He said. 'I won't have to' He added mentally. 'You do a plenty good job by yourself already.'

As Harry sat down, Petunia started unfolding a soap opera of juicy stories that made them look like the most normal folks of the neighborhood. If the desired effect was to make the Dursleys look better, it failed. All it gave was the – righteous – impression that Petunia had nothing to do in her days that peep at the neighbors.

Once the stories had ran out, and Harry was very satisfied to see a relieved expression on Mrs Mason's face, they went to the dining room. Petunia served the food, which was richer and more delicate than ever; then again, finding richer than roast beef and steak is quite a simple task.

To Harry's great surprise and pleasure, he found out that he could eat all he wanted and no one could be the wiser. The Mason's presence had the pleasant side-effect of forcing the Dursleys to be nice… without the threat of being cursed, of course.

"And you, Harry?" Mrs Mason asked, smiling sweetly as the smaller boy devoured through a generous helping of chicken. "Where do you go to school?"

"A boarding school somewhere in the north. My guardians send me there so I don't spend much time with them." Harry said, trying to sound both sad and angry.

Vernon's skin had turned chalk white. He was about to say something when Mrs Mason continued to ask.

"Your guardians?"

"Nasty folks, the less they do with me, the better for them and for me. I'm so glad I'm in a loving house right now." He replied, although there was a very healthy dose of well-hidden sarcasm there, who's target well found.

"What happened to your parents?" Mr Mason asked.

"They died in a horrible car crash, some loony drunk decided to drive on the right side of the street." Harry replied, before shrugging. "I don't remember much, though. I was just a baby."

"Sorry to have brought that up." The suit-clad man apologized.

Harry smiled sadly and nodded, before turning back to his chicken and pigging out. Vernon looked positively stunned that he had managed to tell the truth… well, almost, while hiding his "Abnormality", his unfair treatment and keeping a perfectly straight face… Even Vernon was convinced, at that moment, that the boy was perfectly normal.

The conversation shifted a couple of times, going from golf games, jokes (Most of the times out of context, as they had been pre-planned as well), until uncle Vernon managed to turn the subject on Mr Mason's building company… and his need for drills.

Seeing uncle Vernon's manipulation skills and subtlety in action was as inspiring as seeing a bulldozer carve a two-inch wide ceramic block in an attempt to make a ring. A rough,  unpracticed, brutal and generally a dangerous affair. Anytime, now, Harry expected him to say "…and we'd get so much richer than we are now if you sign that contract… SIGN IT NOW!!!"

Not that he did.

…surprisingly.

It was nearly six when Mr Mason took out the contract from inside of his business suit. Taking out a long, black pen, he signed it with practiced ease.

"Here you go, Mr Dursley." Mr Mason said with a grin, passing the paper to Vernon. "We've got ourselves a deal."

With a grin twice as wide as his face, Vernon signed it, while Mr Mason continued to speak.

"After all, people who protect a child such as this one from abusive guardians can only be great." He said, pointing at Harry. "Though I have no idea what those horrible people can find on him."

Vernon's grin visibly faltered. A bit rougher than necessary, he handed the contract back and grumbled something undecipherable. 

"My thoughts exactly," Mrs Mason added. "he's a true example of a gentleman. If only all boys were like him…" She said, almost in a sigh.

"Thank you, Mrs Mason." Harry said with a cheeky grin that seemed one hundred percent grateful and was, in truth, one hundred percent victorious, as he looked at Vernon's irate face.

So, it wasn't a surprise when, as soon as the Masons were out, Vernon turned toward him and bellowed "IN YOUR ROOM!!"

To which Harry simply shrugged, walked up the stairs, but not before smartassing a "They might have heard you, you know that, uncle Vernon?"

And a Harry in hysterics burst into his room, laughing at the face his uncle had made. He started to wonder if the Dursleys had chameleon blood in their veins when he finally managed to take control of his laughter – requiring a lasso and several kilometers of metal cables – enough to open his eyes and turn them toward his bed.

And boy did his laughter stop.

~*~*~

Author's notes: Me like!!! I was especially mean to the Dursleys, wasn't I? Bad, bad Akuma! *Whacks head with an air balloon, which pops because of horns* Whoopsie!

Seriously, I like how this turned out. With Harry manipulating his way into having a tighter leash around the Dursleys, they are much, much nicer to him than in the books… although *This area is censored in order to keep the plot a secret and keep your drool-catchers full*. ^_-

ANSWERS TO THE EARWAX OF THE REVIEWERS FROM LAST BOOK

AngelHitomi: Thanks!

VMorticia: *shrug* Well, it IS Dumbledore's challenge. It MIGHT have happened ^_-. Message from my Beta, she wants to kill you for the Ron Weasley thing, but wants to join the Draco Malfoy lovers club… *sigh* Girls, I'll never get them. *shrug* What, he can… he knows EVERYTHING going on in the school, including the fact that your code of conduct was apparently adopted by every Slytherin in school ^_-. And yes he is, maybe just a bit ^_-. Thanks for reviewing, V!

Death Demon Xero: Well spotted!

Flummox: Ok then, I'll call you Hagrid's second cousin then ^_-. Fine, I will! ^.^ I almost removed that scene, but under the demand/threat/aggressive-negociation of my cousin (And beta), it stayed.