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Harry Potter : The Unfinished Battle

The war drags on after Voldemort's defeat and the Order of the Phoenix is fighting a losing battle. When Harry is hit by yet another killing curse, he wakes up years in the past and in an alternate reality. As an unknown child in a foreign world, Harry has a chance to change the outcome of the war - while dealing with new magical talents, pureblood politics and Black family drama.

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100 Chs

Chapter - 97 : Shadows of the Past part - 3

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Even when he returned to Hogwarts, Harry was unable to entirely escape talk of the ball. A week after Samhain the Slytherin first years gathered in the dungeon common room as they often did, relaxing after a day of lessons. Harry and Draco were playing chess, with Nott hanging over their shoulders and joining the chess pieces in offering unasked-for advice. Goyle was chomping indiscriminately through a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and Crabbe was working his way through the Arithmancy puzzle from an old copy of the Daily Prophet.

Such pastimes were not sufficient amusements for the girls, however. Hermione sat inoffensively reading a book, but Daphne and Pansy were huddled together, giggling incessantly as they gossiped about the ball. The two witches seemed to be back on friendly terms - something that Harry, as one of those forced to listen to them, very much regretted.

"-and I was wearing pale blue robes with silver embroidery at the cuffs and along the neckline," Daphne said, finally finishing her long-winded description of her outfit for Samhain.

"You were so beautiful and your sapphire necklace complemented your outfit so well," Pansy said.

"Adrien Pucey told me it made my eyes sparkle," Daphne said with a demure blush.

Pansy raised her voice so that everyone could hear. "When you danced with him?"

Daphne smiled appreciatively at her. "Yes. He was very attentive."

Here both Daphne and Pansy cast sideways glances at Harry, who did his best to ignore them. His concentration was reserved for the chess board in front of him; he'd never been good at the game, nor had he ever put much effort into improving since chess was Ron's chance to shine. Harry regretted that now, unhappy at the idea of losing to a Malfoy, especially an eleven-year-old one. Draco was already smirking across the table at him, anticipating his victory.

Giving up on gaining a reaction from Harry, Daphne turned her attention to Hermione, who had her nose buried in her book. "I'm sorry you weren't able to attend, Hermione," she said with apparent sincerity. "I'm sure you would have enjoyed yourself. The dancing was wonderful, the music divine, and then at midnight all the ghosts from the area put on a show - telling tales of the olden days and acting out their deaths."

"That does sound fascinating," Hermione admitted, going so far as to close her book. "I'd love to have seen it."

Pansy gave an unladylike snort. "You! At Lady Black's Samhain Ball? Really Granger, such an Ancient and Noble Family would never consider inviting you into their home."

Hermione flushed angrily, but succeeded in controlling her temper. "Did you enjoy Samhain, Parkinson? Were all your high hopes for the evening fulfilled? I've heard a lot about Daphne's many dance partners, but nothing of yours. Tell me, how many dances did you get to share with Malfoy?"

Daphne hid a smile and Nott sniggered loudly. "None! She chased after him all evening, but Draco somehow succeeded in escaping her clutches," Nott said gleefully.

It was Pansy's turn to flush, this time from embarrassment. "That's… I…" She stuttered and looked around desperately for some sort of distraction. Fortunately for her, one came in the form of raucous laughter from a group of third years sitting by the fire, catching the attention of the younger Slytherins. They were talking about Defence Against the Dark Arts and seemed to find the subject hilarious.

"In the end Footswitch took twenty points off for, what was it? Oh yeah. 'Being blatantly disrespectful and wrongly contradicting her teacher's superior knowledge'," Pucey gleefully quoted the Professor as saying.

Montague snickered appreciatively. "Brilliant! It serves that mudblood right - Clearwater's always going on about how great Muggles are."

"Sickening, isn't it?" Pucey agreed. "But Footswitch put a stop to that. I heard he's taken a load of points off muggleborns in every class."

"At the rate he's going, Slytherin will win the House Cup for sure," Montague said. "Luckily we don't have filth like that in our House."

Up until then the first years had been listening interestedly, but at Montague's words Daphne and Nott frowned and Draco looked uncertain. Harry was so pleased with these small signs of increasing tolerance, that he didn't pay much attention when Pansy sneered at Hermione. "If only!" the pug-nosed girl said loudly.

Hermione's temper snapped. She slammed her book down on the table and marched up to the laughing third years. "I'm a muggleborn and I earned Slytherin one hundred and thirty-six points last week," she announced. "Don't forget that when you're gloating over your precious House Cup!"

"Oh look, Pucey. The Mudblood thinks she can talk back to us," Montague said.

"We'll have to teach her some manners," Pucey said.

Montague wore a nasty smirk as he drew his wand. "I think you're right. Let's start with - Furnunculus!"

The bright light of the hex shot out of his wand, aimed directly at Hermione. With a shout Harry scrambled to his feet, pulling out his own wand and deflecting the spell away from her. It careened off his shield and hit Hermione's attacker, causing painful-looking boils to erupt across his skin. Harry didn't hang about to watch the rest of the consequences unfold. While everyone else stared in shock, Harry grabbed Hermione by the arm and dragged her out of the common room.

"What the hell was that for, Hermione?" Harry demanded once they'd reached the upper floors of the castle. He really had to wonder how Hermione had ever made it into Slytherin. She showed ambition, certainly, and her intelligence would make any Ravenclaw proud, but her current behaviour was pure Gryffindor.

"You heard what they said!"

"Yeah, but there is such a thing as subtlety," Harry told her. "Hex their shoelaces together, put poison in their coffee, whatever - I don't care. Just don't march up and tell them off in front of everyone. What did you expect would happen?"

Hermione waved her hand in an impatient gesture. "I don't know. Pansy was smirking at me, and no one was doing anything, and I just got so angry. All that Pureblood rubbish is so unfair! Not to mention makes no logical sense whatsoever."

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