The Secret of The Serpent | Harry Potter

Chapter 11: First Year

As March rolled into Hogwarts, thick clouds hung over the castle, mirroring the weight that had settled deep in Riley Davies' heart. Each passing day became a murky blend of unnoticed glances from Theodore and tense encounters with Malfoy, all while the chill of unease nestled in the corners of his mind, fed by the unsettling presence of Professor Quirrell.

Classes had resumed their usual cadence—Potions with Professor Snape felt as rigorous as ever, although this time, even the atmosphere around the professor had shifted. Snape often lingered at the edge of a shadow, his eyes clouded with a haze of distraction. Riley sensed that something was brewing beneath the surface, just as it had with the tensions around his friendship with Theodore. Their private lessons continued, providing him with solace, yet he couldn't help but feel that even Snape was grappling with unseen burdens.

In quiet moments at the library, Riley often caught himself glancing toward the section where Slytherins congregated, searching for Theodore's presence. But the empty chair across from him served as a reminder of what was lost—his confidant, now caught in a snare woven by their fathers and Draco's watchful eyes.

"Riley?" Blaise's voice broke him from his reverie one afternoon, studying Riley curiously as they sat across from each other amongst the dusty bookshelves. "You've been distracted. What's got you so worked up?"

Riley pressed his lips together, weighing whether to confide in Blaise about the high tides of his emotions and swirling thoughts regarding Quirrell and Malfoy. "It's nothing I can't handle," he replied, a tightness in his tone that betrayed his otherwise controlled demeanour.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, sceptical, but nodded, sensing that now wasn't the time to push. "Just...know that I'm here. Whatever you decide to do, you don't have to do it alone," he offered.

"Thanks, Blaise," Riley said, appreciating his friend's loyalty. Yet, within, something darker was festering. The sooner he confronted Malfoy, the sooner he could extricate Theodore from the clutches of fear and weakness.

The idea simmered in his mind as he left the library, framing itself into a plan. He would catch Malfoy without his usual entourage—likely in a secluded area around the back of the castle or near the Greenhouses, where the shadows were thick and the watchful eyes of others dim. It was a risk, but sometimes you had to step into danger to protect the things you valued most.

Weeks continued in a haze, and Riley found himself alternating between calculating and restless. In Potions class, he observed more than engaged; he watched Malfoy's movements when their paths crossed. With every muttered word that slipped from Malfoy's lips, an intricate web unfolded in Riley's mind, mapping out their history and the points of vulnerability to exploit.

Finally, one afternoon, as the sun dipped low, casting long fingers of light through the castle's stained glass, Riley found a moment of fortune. He spotted Malfoy alone in a seldom-used alcove, the air heavy with whispers of secrets long forgotten. This time, there were no Slytherin cronies nearby; it was the perfect opportunity to reach the boy behind the mask of arrogance.

Riley approached cautiously, swallowing the surge of anger that threatened to surface. "Malfoy," he called out, attempting to keep his voice even, controlled. "We need to talk."

Malfoy turned, expression guarded, his eyes narrowing slightly as though assessing the intent behind Riley's approach. "Talk? How could anything you say possibly be worth my time?" he snapped, crossing his arms in defiance.

"I'm serious. I know you're caught up in something you don't understand," Riley urged, hoping to cut through the layers of Malfoy's bravado. "This isn't just about our families or the past. It's about us—friends who are getting hurt in the crossfire."