"How dare you speak about my father that way Longbottom, you filthy squib! Expelliarmus!" Harry recognized Neville's wand traveling through the air. Towards Malfoy's hand. Harry's ears roared. He reached across his chest and drew his wand from the robe pocket over his heart.
He held out his left hand and just like he had at the Dursleys used his magic to move something. He gave the wand an extra push and Neville's wand abruptly sped up, flying over Malfoy's outstretched hand and over his head. Everyone turned to follow its path straight into Harry's awaiting left hand.
"H-Harry." Neville sounded more than a little relieved.
Harry saw red. How dare Malfoy touch Harry's things?
"Hey Neville, having a good morning?" He asked with mock earnestness. His glare never wavered from Malfoy's smug face. "I just found this and I thought I'd return it to you." Lisa had stopped walking with him, taking a step to the side and gaping at him.
Malfoy sneered and opened his mouth. "Potter, coming to save your useless friend?"
Harry kept walking. "You're very brave with your little goons standing there." There was nothing little about Crabbe and Goyle, except the one thing that mattered; their magical talents, or rather lack thereof. His speech had warbled between English and Slytherin's noble tongue. It had the desirable effect of encouraging everyone watching to step away from him, forming a circle of bodies around him and Malfoy.
The blond began, "If you think-"
"Flippendo," Harry whispered. Though he desperately wanted to use the piercing hex praefigo, or the diffindo's more sinister twin lacero, or even the Puncturing curse compungo.
The spell hit Malfoy's chest and lifted him right off his feet. He was flung bodily down the corridor three meters, for a rough landing on his ass. He was wheezing hard and almost crying, prompting Crabbe and Goyle to step forward. Harry wanted to enter their minds and use some of the things he had learned, but he figured that Dumbledore would disapprove. Though tempting, the idea of Malfoy collapsing with blood running from his nose would only come back and bite him later.
"Petrificus totalus," he incanted at one, then, "Wingardium Leviosa." Goyle fell on his face immediately, while Crabbe floated upwards the moment he stepped forward to swing his fist at Harry.
Are these even wizards?
Harry stepped past the both of them and handed Neville his wand. "I'll see you in the library later, Neville." Neville was still staring at Malfoy gasping for breath. Harry turned back around to see Lisa looking at him, horrified.
And we had made so much progress.
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Harry's team was eying him warily on the Quidditch pitch the next day, the Slytherin team even more so. He briefly wondered who Daphne and Tracey would be cheering for.
He kicked off from the ground at the whistle and circled the pitch like a hawk. Slytherin's chaser game was better than their own, so Harry would occasionally dive bomb them to break up their formations and prevent them from putting too much pressure on the Ravenclaw goals, however, the score was steadily turning in Slytherin's favor.
They would be in trouble against Gryffindor, even if they won this game. The Gryffindor chasers were brilliant, and the Weasley twins were in a class of their own, communicating to each other and setting up shots with the bludgers with unbelievable intuition.
Luckily, Slytherin's beaters were not one half so well coordinated, and Harry found Ravenclaw's beaters were perfectly capable of keeping their team safe.
He spotted the snitch, diving through the Slytherin team one last time and seeing the Slytherin seeker, a small boy from third year, ignore Harry and continue looking for the snitch. In a flash of blue and bronze, Harry pivoted on his broom and held up the snitch proudly for all to see, grinning.
Someone had held onto their Potter for President banner and it waved furiously in the resulting cheer.
As he slowly rotated in place, taking in the applause, he spotted a fist fight breaking out in the stands near the Gryffindor section. Red and blond hair went down in a flurry of flailing limbs. If Malfoy chose someone else to antagonize, that was fine by Harry.
Not my problem.
After the incident with Malfoy, and once he could stop worrying about the impending Quidditch match, he had attempted to repair things with Lisa. It took a few days, but eventually she started following him to Charms again.
Sorry about what happened with Malfoy," he told her. "It wasn't what I had in mind when I woke up that morning."
She gave him a nervous look.
"I think you're a good friend for helping Neville… it's just… if… parseltongue sounds creepy and, I… well… not that you're creepy… it's just…" He looked into her eyes and found what she was trying to say.
"I think I understand. It's just unnerving. It's unnatural." She was giving him an apologetic look. She didn't understand his ability, so it unsettled her a little.
He shrugged. He hardly cared about something like that. Still, the progress he had made at convincing most other students he wasn't going to hex them to death in their sleep had taken a huge step back.
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As term went on, Harry found himself being drawn to the idea of the Philospher's stone. He read a little about alchemy, and found that it was much like potions mixed with transfiguration. It was a means to make transmutations permanent, and creating the foundations of powerful magical substances. Unfortunately, he couldn't grasp the concepts all that well. A great deal of it was rooted in Arithmancy, something he couldn't take until third-year, so he was forced to put it on hold.