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Snape rolled his eyes. "Potter, cease your pretensions of childish naivete. While I deplore your Gryffindor tendencies, it is clear that you are remarkably cunning for a First Year student. You know perfectly well that if you have a mysterious ailment that only strikes you whenever you are near someone whom you have already found suspicious, of course it is important! Do these headaches last the entire time you are near him?"
"No, it's more like an intermittent stabbing pain centered right here," Harry touched his scar. "Hermione says that from his reaction, Jim gets the same pain also centered on his own scar."
"Hmm. Avoid Quirrell outside of class. During your Defense lessons, whenever these pains strike you, make a note of the time and whether Quirrell was doing anything unusual at the onset. If you can do so discretely, have your Gryffindor associates observe the Other Potter to see how he reacts and whether his reactions differ from your own. You will present a written summary of your notes to me in one week's time. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," said Harry as if instructions to essentially spy on another teacher and also get his friends to do likewise were the most commonplace things in the world.
By that point, the two had arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. "As I have said, Potter, you have a distressingly strong Gryffindor streak within you, which is unfortunate but understandable given your lineage. That said, I must confess that I am thus far pleased to see how well you have harnessed it and bent it to a Slytherin's wisdom. Five points to Slytherin." Those were the first points Snape had given Harry since the start of school, and the boy smiled appreciatively and thanked his teacher with suitable humility.
With that, Snape gave the password and the door to the common room slide open. Inside were the majority of Harry's house mates who had only just arrived after the all-clear was given. Rodney Montague was the first to meet Snape and Harry at the door.
"Mr. Montague," drawled Snape. "I return the last of your charges to you. His punishment for leaving the Great Hall after you had ordered it sealed has already been addressed. No further comment on that matter is necessary."
Montague looked back and forth between Snape and Harry. "Very good, sir," he finally said.
"And for what it's worth, Mr. Montague," said Harry, "I sincerely apologize if my rash actions caused you any distress."
The boy looked up at the prefect with such a mixture of respect and perfect innocence that, for a second, Montague almost thought he was sincere. Snape exited the common room, and Montague, after looking strangely at Harry for a few seconds, rounded up the other prefects to let them know what Snape had said. Harry walked over where an anxious Theo was waiting off by himself. He warmly thanked the boy for his help and shook his hand, discretely palming the ring back to him in the process. Theo nodded bashfully. Then, Harry headed off in the direction of the First Year dorm rooms when his way was blocked by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. The rest of the First Years (and a dozen or so from the other years) were near enough to observe but were not actively interfering.
"Unbelievable!" exclaimed Malfoy. "When my father hears that the Heir of an Ancient and Noble House snuck away, in defiance of the prefect's orders, in pursuit of a blood traitor squib and a mudblood ..."
"BINGO!" shouted Harry loudly. All the Slytherins nearby were startled by his outburst. "Sorry. That's a Muggle thing. You finally managed to work mudblood, blood traitor, and my father into a single sentence. I thought if I pointed it out first I might win a prize." Somewhere in the background, he heard Theo snigger briefly before getting control of himself.
"You are such an embarrassment to this house, Potter. How many points did you lose us with that stunt?"
"Well actually, I gained fifteen. But then, Professor Snape took five from me not obeying the prefect's orders. But then, after I explained my reasoning for my actions, he gave me back five for demonstrating what he referred to as Slytherin wisdom."
"You're lying," snarled Malfoy.
"Ask him tomorrow," replied Harry cheerfully. "I. Dare. You."
"When my father..."
"WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" interrupted Harry with an angry shout. Draco was taken aback and several other Slytherins moved closer to the arguing group.
"Because someone needs to put you in your ..."
"No! Not 'why are you here, right now, annoying me?'! I mean 'why are you in Slytherin House at all?'! Yes, you're a rich Pureblood. So what. So is Zacharias Smith and he's a Hufflepuff! We've been in this house for two months, and I haven't seen you display anything I'd call cunning! You're certainly not subtle! And I don't think you have any ambition beyond strutting around like a peacock flaunting the wealth and privilege you've gotten from an inheritance that you've done nothing to earn. And you talk like one of those Muggle dolls that spouts prerecorded messages if you pull a string out of its back. It's all 'Mudblood-This' and 'Blood Traitor-That' and 'Wait till my father hears.' It's pathetic!"
"Why you filthy little Halfblood...!" Draco furiously started fumbling for his wand.
Harry's eyes lit up almost deliriously. "Finally!" he thought. He'd gotten his wand and his holster on July 31st, and spent thirty minutes every night for the next month practicing how to quick draw it because he'd foolishly thought that such things were a factor in wand usage. When he got to Hogwarts, however, he discovered that, outside of aurors and professional duelists, wizards didn't seem to care about such things. In fact, he was the only First Year who'd actually paid for one of Ollivander's overpriced wand holsters instead of just tucking his wand away in the pocket of his robes like everyone else. He still kept practicing with the holster for several minutes each day though ... for this exact moment.
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