Secrets of a Slytherin Princess

Regular updates came from Tonks, Dobby, and Dudley over the next few weeks, yet the Slytherin found that she was no closer to finding out what Draco was up to. She knew that Draco was trying to kill Dumbledore, but knew absolutely nothing about his current plan to kill Dumbledore in order to stop him. And, unfortunately for her, Dobby was of no help as he was still rather hesitant to spy on Draco for Apollonia, despite her being Harry’s sister. Apollonia must have underestimated how much the Malfoys mistreated the poor elf. It was far worse than Apollonia could have ever imagined. Dobby must have suffered immensely at the hands of the Malfoys before Harry freed him. The house elf no longer endured any punishments because any of the Malfoys were displeased with Dobby’s work. Watching over Draco could bring back memories of all that pain and suffering.

There was never nothing new going on when Tonks or Dudley contacted her. Any news she received from them was always the same; Dudley could not convince his parents to accept magic into their lives in order to protect themselves and Tonks was still looking into the best place for the Dursleys to go into hiding should the Fidelius Charm not be an option. Apollonia could do nothing more to help protect the people she cared about at the moment; it was rather infuriating for her to merely sit around and watch as the world she knew all too well was ripped away from her. But, she had ascertained no more knowledge that could help her fix things, so she could do nothing to keep the status quo.

March faded away into nothingness, as did April. With May upon the school, Apollonia could see that Draco had become far more agitated than even Harry was these days. He was restless and pallid, more so than usual. Since the self-proclaimed Slytherin Prince banned her from coming anywhere near him anymore, Apollonia could only watch over Draco from a distance; and what she was seeing scared her. He was much different than Apollonia remembered him to be; snappish, distant. No one spent more than five minutes talking to him at any given time, at least when it came to speaking outside of class.

Apollonia was wandering around the sixth floor for awhile—not wanting to go down to dinner—when she spotted her brother coming towards her, a piece of paper in his hands. “Harry,” she asked, “what are you doing up here? Shouldn’t you be going down to dinner?” Apollonia knew why she was here; but the reason for her brother’s appearance at her side currently eluded the Slytherin. She pointed to the paper in his hand. “And, what is that?”

“Later,” Harry said. “I know where Malfoy is.”

“Where?” Apollonia asked, her eyes lighting up.

“Boys’ restroom,” Harry replied. “Come on.”

Apollonia followed her brother to the boys’ lavatory, following him inside to find out what was going on. Draco stood at one of the sinks, his head down and his hands clutching either side of the sink. There was a ghost hovering not far away from him. “Who’s that?” Apollonia asked her brother, pointing at the ghost that was hovering over one of the cubicles.

“Moaning Myrtle,” Harry whispered. “She haunts the second floor girls’ bathroom where she died a little over half a century ago. I met her four years ago. Now shush. I want to know what’s going on here, why Malfoy would choose to confide in Myrtle of all people.”

The Slytherin had to agree. She wondered why Draco would want to confide in a ghost rather than one of his friends, perhaps even Apollonia. What the bloody hell was going on here. “Don’t,” Myrtle was saying. “Don’t…tell me what’s wrong…I can help you…”

Apollonia, in part, knew what was going on. Draco was trying to kill Dumbledore for Voldemort. But, it seemed as if there was something more going on, something far more sinister. Like the cabinet she found him working on so many months ago; what was going on here? Why was Draco working on that cabinet if his task for Voldemort was to kill Dumbledore as Apollonia suspected it to be? “No one can help me,” Draco insisted, his body trembling violently as he spoke. “I can’t do it…I can’t…It won’t work…and unless I do it soon…he says he’ll kill me…” Apollonia, as her brother stepped closer, drifted into the corner; she did not wish for Draco to learn that she was spying on him, not this time.

Lucky for her that she did because Draco realized that Harry was there and whirled around to attack the Gryffindor he despised so much. From Apollonia’s vantage point, she figured that her brother and best friend were casting nonverbal hexes at one another, none of which seemed to hit. Draco then called out a spell that Apollonia had no wish to hear. “Cruci—”

The Unforgiveable Draco was about to cast was never finished; Apollonia heard her brother call out an even worse spell. It was not a Dark spell, but it was just as bad. “SECTUMSEMPRA!”

As soon as the spell left her brother’s lips, Apollonia saw the blood spurting from cuts on Draco’s face and chest, like he was cut with invisible swords. Harry stood there stock-still, so Apollonia rushed over in an attempt to stop the wounds. “Harry, what did you do?” she asked.

“No—,” Harry gasped. He stepped closer to where Apollonia was kneeling over Draco, seemingly trying to get a better look at what happened to Draco because of him. “No—I didn’t—”

Apollonia looked to her brother. “My father, Harry! Go find my father!” If anyone could help Draco in this moment, it was her father. Surely he would know how to counteract the spell Harry cast. “Do it now Harry! Go find my father and get him in this room!” the Slytherin yelled at her brother. “I don’t care how much trouble you might get in for doing this; you might go to Azkaban if this KILLS him. Just go make sure that my father knows what happened.”

It was not Harry however, who alerted her father as to what happened; Myrtle was the one to cause her father to come rushing into the room. “MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

When her father burst into the room, Apollonia looked up at him. “You know the spell, don’t you, Dad?” He nodded. She got up from where she was kneeling in a pool of her friend’s blood—Harry too—and watched from the background as father muttered the counter-curse. As this occurred, the Slytherin knew that calling her father was definitely the right decision; the wounds Harry inflicted upon Draco using the Sectumsempra spell seemed to get sewn back together. Apollonia then looked between her father and Harry, who still seemed to be utterly petrified by what he had done to Draco. “Harry, are you okay?” she asked her fearful brother.

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged.

The Slytherin nodded and focused on what was going on with her father. It seemed that he had lifted Draco into a standing position. “You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that…Come,” he said. Her father got Draco to the door before turning back to Harry, his obsidian eyes raging with an intense fury. “And you, Potter…You wait here for me.”

After her father disappeared with Draco, Apollonia turned to her brother. Even after her father disappeared with a battered Draco, it seemed as if Harry was rather freaked out. Though, Apollonia supposed that it was understandable; the sixth floor boys’ bathroom was currently streaked with blood, pooling towards the drains. The Slytherin looked at her brother, realizing something as she eyed him. I have to. Legilimens! Apollonia searched through her brother’s head, searching for a particular memory. Finally, Apollonia located the memory she was looking for. It was the first Potions class of the year. While Professor Slughorn was explaining things to the class, Harry raised his hand. He needed to alert the Professor as to what was going on. Otherwise, he might not be able to participate. “Sir?”

“Harry, m’boy?”

“I haven’t got a book or scales or anything—nor Ron—we didn’t realize we’d be able to take the N.E.W.T., you see—” Harry was slightly wary of the professor’s reaction. Slughorn, both times that he met him, seemed to favor him a bit more. He didn’t want him to make a big deal of this.

“Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention…not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the storage cupboard today, and I’m sure we can lend you some scales, and we’ve got a small stock of old books here, they’ll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts…”

Harry and Ron both went to retrieve a copy of Advanced Potions Making from the cabinets, settling for an old worn copy while Ron got the new copy. While making the Draught of the Living Death, Harry found tiny notes in the margins. He followed the instructions precisely and was rewarded with a small bottle Felix Felicis from Professor Slughorn. Ron and Hermione later confronted him about the book, warning him to beware the following instructions from a book—not knowing who wrote them—particularly after what happened to Ginny with Riddle’s diary. Harry assured them that it was nothing like Riddle’s diary and looked at the book, spotting an inscription on the bottom of back cover of the book.

This book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince

The memory of the first Potions class evaporated and was replaced by Harry staring at a note in the Half-Blood Prince’s book. Sectumsempra: For enemies. Apollonia looked at her brother. “The book, Harry!” she shrieked. “I know you learned the spell from your Potions book…” …because you learned it from my father. Dad created that spell and you used it on Draco. If Dad learns that you have his old Potions book and used the spell on Draco, things will not turn out very well. “When Dad realizes what’s going on, and I assure you that he will, and he wants you to get your things, I want you to get me the book.”

Harry shrugged. “Why?”

Because it’s my father’s book, Apollonia thought. I can’t let you get in trouble simply because of this book. “Look, Harry, just get me the book. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Okay.”

Her father returned to the bathroom, forcing Apollonia and Myrtle to leave the room. Damn it! Harry had my father’s book. No wonder he’s been so good these days; he’s been following my father’s instructions. Harry, under the standards her father imposed, never would have made it into the N.E.W.T. Potions class. Even Apollonia had to admit that her brother wasn’t very good, despite their mother’s talent in the class. The boy-who-lived simply didn’t have a talent for Potions; the fact that he was cheating off her father proved that. I need to get that book away from him. Dad might find out anyway, but I’m taking the book anyway. Harry came out of the bathroom rather dejectedly, looking over at Apollonia. “What happened in there?” she asked her brother once he emerged.

“He wants to see my schoolbag,” Harry replied.

I know you all too well, Dad. I knew you’d want to see Harry’s things, Apollonia thought. “Just get me the book,” she whispered. “I saw the memory as you very well know; the Half-Blood Prince created a rather dangerous spell. And, yes it was designed for enemies, but I really do think that this was a rather stupid use. You almost killed Draco.”

“I guess,” Harry muttered.

While her brother went to retrieve his Potions book, Apollonia wondered how bad Draco’s cuts were. Precisely how much damage had Harry inflicted? She would have to go find out after obtaining the book from her brother. Harry returned ten minutes later, handing the book over to Apollonia. “Thanks, Harry,” she said, tucking her father’s old Potions manual under her arm. “I’m telling you right now that you don’t want this book. As helpful as it has been for you, holding onto this book for any longer than you have is simply not an option. Now, go see my father; if you wait any longer, you might be in even more trouble.”

Her brother nodded and went back inside. Apollonia could hear the conversation—only faintly—that was raging between her father and brother inside the bathroom. The Slytherin only listened a few moments before going to hide her father’s book away and going to visit Draco; he could not refuse her seeing as he was confined to the Hospital Wing. And, though he might be weak from the spell’s blood loss, Apollonia still needed to go. The Slytherin rushed into the Hospital Wing to find that Madam Pomfrey was fretting over Draco, this being one of the few true serious injuries he’d gotten over the years. “Madam Pomfrey, do you mind if I come in and see how Draco is doing?”

The mediwitch grimaced. “Only a few minutes.”

“Not a problem. Though, I would suggest that no one else be allowed to see him. It would not be conducive to his recovery,” Apollonia informed the mediwitch. If she could trick the woman into effectively banning anyone other than her or her father from visiting Draco, it would ensure that Draco spoke with her, as well as using the Slytherin traits she was oft to deny. It was rare that Apollonia ever tried to use her Slytherin cunning to get her way. She had done so on Dobby, but that was the first time she had done so in years. Finding a way to approach Draco—and effectively quash any attempt Pansy or the other Slytherins made—would be well worth the infrequent use of the cunningness she inherited.

“You might be right, Ms. Snape,” the woman replied.

Apollonia’s face remained neutral; she had no idea that Madam Pomfrey had knowledge of her true identity. Though, she supposed the news would eventually pass about the staff. Madam Pomfrey had been around since her father was in school; they must have conversed about certain aspects of his life, including Apollonia’s existence. “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” she murmured, slumping down into a chair beside Draco’s bed. She stared at the faint scars on his face and chest; the one of his chest being the darker, more prominent of the two. It would probably that one that scarred; Apollonia couldn’t even see where her friend was hit in the face. She and Harry knew it was there, but they were the only ones—student-wise, at least—that knew what happened. Although, that might not hold true if Myrtle decided to gossip about the school about what Harry inadvertently did.

The Slytherin prayed that would not come to pass. Myrtle seemed utterly petrified by what happened in the sixth floor boys’ bathroom; anyone could have overheard her shriek. And, that was not something in which Apollonia could afford, not in the very least. Thus far, only she and Harry knew of the incident that brought Draco to the hospital. Someone other than them would soon learn of episode, and Apollonia preferred that it not be Pansy. The most likely candidates though, would be Hermione and Ron, the latter of which would not hide his glee that such a fate befell Draco. The pair would surely find out what Harry and Apollonia already knew, only one of which would be at all sympathetic.

Five minutes of silence passed with Apollonia staring absentmindedly at a weakened Draco. She could hardly believe that something like this could have happened. In part, she blamed her father; it was his book that Harry found the spell in. Had Apollonia gotten the book, there would have been no need to deal with this. But, for whatever reason, it was her brother to receive the book, currently tucked away in her robe. Tonight, before going to bed, she would lock it in a secret compartment in her trunk, the only safe place for it. No one could find it, not here at Hogwarts or otherwise. Just based on what happened to Draco, Apollonia knew the book was dangerous; her father created a rather dodgy spell and, as much as Apollonia would have liked to use it on Pansy Parkinson, she knew that there was no way she could. Anyone who discovered what such a spell did was dangerous. Harry already felt guilty for what happened, so she had her doubts that her brother might do something like this ever again. It was extremely unlikely.

“You need to go, Ms. Snape,” the mediwitch called.

Apollonia sighed and gave one last look at Draco’s still form. “I’m sorry for what Harry did to you,” she whispered. “There was no way that I could stop it, as much as I tried.” Upon giving Madam Pomfrey an almost imperceptible nod, the Slytherin trudged down to the common room, content in her resolve to hide the Half-Blood Prince’s—her father’s—old Potions manual. She slipped into the dungeon unnoticed, making it all the way to her room without getting seen. Unfortunately, that was where things went terribly wrong.

“Aw look. The poor nobody seems to have made a mess of herself!” Pansy cackled as she and her gaggle of giggly girls came rushing into the room. “She looks absolutely horrid.”

Hearing those words, Apollonia looked down, only to realize that she was covered in Draco’s blood. It had dried, only slightly so that it wouldn’t drip all over the place, but the blood was still there. No! Apollonia thought. I can’t let Pansy know what happened. Madam Pomfrey may be keeping the Hospital Wing clear, but it won’t last once Pug-face knows what happened. Damn blood! I try to keep the blood loss to a minimum and it causes Pansy to almost realize what happened. I used to only ever have to deal with her insults once or twice a year. Now, it’s every chance she gets. What should happen come tomorrow when it’s discovered that Draco isn’t in class? Apollonia dreaded that day; Pansy would eventually realize what happened and she had no desire to deal with the consequences. “Just get off my case, Parkinson!” Apollonia yelled. “I’ve been through too much today to deal with the likes of you.”

To Apollonia’s own surprise, Pansy stormed off without even a comeback. Apollonia chose not to question it and removed the blood-covered robes, hiding her father’s book inside, before tucking it into her trunk’s secret compartment and locking it. No one would find out what was going on; she refused to let such a horrendous thing happen. The Professor’s daughter went to take a shower—opting out of dinner completely—and came to a decision; she needed to get back at Pansy for everything that was going on. And, the best part was that the Slytherin had a pretty good idea of how to do it.