Aspen in the Sunlight - A Year Like None Other

Draco shook his head. "My guess is he got it from Dumbledore during one of those teas. That man knows everything. Remember how he seemed to know about--" He didn't say Venetimorica , but Harry knew what he meant. "It's eerie." Draco shivered.

"Too bad Aran'll never know why he got this or that hex," said Harry, chewing his lip.

"Oh, I'm sure Dumbledore'll fill him in." Draco grinned. "I can hear it now. He'll use that doddering old fool's voice he likes."

" Lemon sherbet? " snickered Harry.

As soon as Snape lifted the boil blister hex--ha, funny how he'd yet to repair the other wizard's clothing--Aran tried to get up from the grass where he'd landed. He couldn't, though. Harry could see Aran's muscles straining. Literally, since so much skin was on display. Ugh. Too much skin. Aran really needed to start some kind of exercise programme.

"The sticking charm!" hooted Draco. "Ha! Take that, you worthless git!"

But Harry was already thinking ahead. " Bocalavare, " he reminded Draco, a wide grin splitting his face. "This is great! "

And sure enough, that was the next spell to surge forth from Snape's wand. Mounds of soapsuds began to pour from Aran's mouth. He sputtered and spewed on them, shaking his head like a wet dog trying to dry itself. Still stuck tight to the ground, he could do nothing as the bubbles kept streaming from his mouth and even nose.

"Oh, God," said Harry, his chuckles abruptly dying. "Maybe this isn't so great. If Dad knows about Aran washing my mouth out, he probably knows why."

"If he hasn't talked to you about it yet, he's not going to." Draco glanced at Harry. "Considering all that happened, I'm sure Severus thinks anything you had to say was justified."

Harry nodded, relieved.

As Snape cast Finite once more, cancelling two spells at once, Aran got shakily to his feet. Defeated by then, he didn't even try to lift his wand.

"This is it," murmured Draco. "The grand finale."

Harry knew what he meant. One curse left, right? That Petrificus Aran had thrown at Harry, rendering him helpless right in the middle of a confrontation with Lucius Malfoy.

Petrificus was awful. Harry knew that firsthand. But still, it seemed pretty paltry compared to what Aran had put him through. It wasn't the spell itself that was the man's worst crime; it was using it in a way that would make Harry vulnerable to his sworn enemy. But still, what else could Snape do? Harry knew by then that his father wasn't going to kill Aran.

"Petrificus Totalus! " shouted Snape.

It was a little hard for Harry to watch, actually. As Aran snapped into a straight line and turned slightly grey, then toppled over backwards with a thud, he couldn't help but think of what had happened in France. He wasn't sorry Malfoy was dead, of course. And he wasn't feeling guilty--not even over not feeling guilty. Or not so much as before.

But the reminder of the kind of power he had--literally--at his fingertips, that was sobering.

Draco seemed to sense his change of mood. "You don't have any sharp objects in your pockets, do you?" he said in a bare whisper, a mere thread of noise.

Harry heard the caring in the question, but shot his brother a dirty look anyway.

Snape had walked over to Aran's still form and was looking down at him, his expression still thunderous. The teachers started tensing, as if suspecting that Snape had something unexpected planned. Not even a murmur of sound disturbed the duelling field.

Or not, that was, until Draco whispered something. "Uh-oh," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I guess I was wrong about the grand finale."

"He's just going to release him and that'll be that," returned Harry, but his voice was wavering with uncertainty.

Larissa picked up on it and started trembling against Harry's side.

" Finite Incantatem, " said Snape, his wand levelled at Aran as the man began to blink and sit up. "So Parseltongue is evil, is it, Aaron?"

Aran moved his mouth, obviously trying to reply in a way that wouldn't get him killed. "I . . . now look here, Snape, I know you're fond of the boy but I'm not the only one who thinks this is all a bit unnatural--"

Snape's lips twisted as he growled something long and low.

"Sweet Merlin's hair," said Draco, his voice hollow with shock. He stepped back, shuddering. "I thought that one was just legend."

Harry didn't understand, but the sight of Aran starting to change made explanations unnecessary. The man's body narrowed and lengthened, his arms and legs shrinking to pinpricks, then vanishing entirely as his head changed shape and a tail emerged where his legs used to be.

"He's . . . he's a snake ," breathed Harry, fascinated and repulsed all at once.

Larissa started bouncing as she untangled herself from Harry's cloak. "Let me see, let me see! Oooh, pretty!"

She was right. Aran did make for a pretty snake. Long and slender, a milk-white streak against the grass. But how he looked, that's not so much what caught Harry's attention. It was what he was saying.

"Turn me back," a plaintive voice begged. Aran's voice, but it was coming from the snake.

Glancing at Draco and then Larissa, Harry saw that neither one of them had registered any voice at all. Of course. All they could hear was meaningless hissing.

"He's speaking Parseltongue," said Harry. Feeling Sals twisting around in his pocket, Harry gave her a few pats. Since Sals knew him pretty well by then, she stopped moving. Probably she thought Harry was warning her to hide from the other snake.

"Condemned to speak Parseltongue," Draco was saying in a shaky voice.

Harry slanted a glance to the side. "He's a ways off. Besides, I thought you were over your snake thing. Sals doesn't bother you as much, I think."

"I'm used to her. Somewhat."

Harry learned something, then. Just because you'd got a chance to face your fears didn't mean you were over them completely. He should have realised. Ron had gone with him to talk to Aragog that time, but Ron was still plenty afraid of spiders! Just like Harry was still afraid of needles, and he'd faced that fear twice this year.

"Turn me back," Aran was still begging, over and over. He started to slither forward, though as he hadn't been a snake for long he didn't really know how. Wriggling in place on the grass, he flickered his tongue at Snape, his hissing growing hoarse as he kept on. He sounded like he was trying to cry and didn't know how.

Harry kind of felt sorry for him, then. He knew what it was like to want to cry and not be able to.

"I do believe this snake is trying to say something," drawled Snape in a loud voice. "Pity I can't understand a word. Probably he's enjoying his new form and telling me how much he'd like to stay this way. Yes, so I'll leave him, then."

"Serve him right after the way he treated Harry!" Harry heard Seamus shout.

"Yeah, well it would, but Transfiguration wears off after a while--" replied another Gryffindor.

Draco made a scoffing noise. "How ignorant can one house get? That wasn't a transfigurative spell at all. It's in another class entirely, and it won't be wearing off."

Snape was turning in a slow circle, surveying students and teachers alike. "I wonder if there might be someone present with the very special talent of speaking to snakes?"

Harry wasn't quite sure what his father was up to, but it seemed like Snape wanted him to step forward, so he did, walking uncertainly into the duelling field where Aran was still wriggling in vain, his hiss almost a moan by then. "I don't want to be a snake. Change me back, change me back . . . "

"Yes, Harry?" asked Snape, one eyebrow raised. "Was there something you needed?"

Harry's eyes went wide. "You asked me to come up!"