John Constantine and The Overgrown Serpent

Our Own

They had gotten back to him as soon as they could.

Harry's dorm had been ransacked-and Tom Riddle's diary was gone.

That book was becoming more troublesome than John would've liked to admit...there was something about it that didn't feel right...like it wasn't something normal even for magic.

If he could only find out where the damn thing went, then he would get a chance to examine it fully.

"I've had enough of your reign of terror, snake!"

John startled as the back of his robe was grabbed, soon finding himself shoved at a wall.

The excitement drew in a small crowd of reds, blues, and yellows. Just enough for John to feel slightly trapped.

"What the hell are you on about?!"
The blond rubbed his bruising shoulder.

"What do you think we're talking about?!"

A Gryffindor boy standing front an center, the boy who was surely his aggressor, snarled.

His blue eyes were hateful.

But more importantly, were filled with fear.

Shit.

This wasn't looking good for him.

"Do you think us dull? That we wouldn't catch onto your plans or something?!"

Another boy voiced, beginning a flood of quiet insults and accusations.

"Can you not hear yourselves talk at all?!"
John growled, growing defensive.
Dueling Club or not-he had the experience to rival their teachers.
"I haven't done a thing-and now your resortin' to violence!"

"This entire school is under attack, violence is around us all the time!-and everyone knows that it's the Chamber of Secrets! That's it's the Heir of Slytherin to blame!"

"So what-are you blamin' my entire house or am I just special?"

"Why not?"
The Gryffindor narrowed his eyes.
"Look at the facts."

He paced, making a dramatic show to his followers-tormented students who were scared shitless.

"Firstly!"
He held up a finger as he faced them.
"He's wandless. Wandless! Not even Dumbledore has achieved that! Secondly!"
Two fingers.
"The most obvious-he's a Slytherin. He looks down upon us like we're dirt on the floor! Upon the victims in the hospital. Our friends and families that just so happened to be what his kind hate the most! Half-blood. Muggleborn. 'Unfit for Hogwarts' isn't that right, Constantine?"

Disbelief flooded his system.

"Are you bloody kiddin' me?! If you lot knew one bloody thing about me, it's that I couldn't give a damn about this feud blood-related, house-related, or otherwise!"

"So he says!"

Did this kid make a habit of playing lawyer?

"This is John Constantine, a known associate, friend, and follower to both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy! One is an outcast who can somehow speak Parseltongue-the other a pureblooded Slytherin who's made our lives miserable, and I think that even if he isn't the Heir of Slytherin-he's surely played a hand in paralyzing our friends and needs to be dealt with! Now who's with me?!"
There were a few sounds of agreement.
But it wasn't as much as the boy seemed to've hoped for.
"I said who's with me?!"