Hey. So I'm writing a new story despite the fact that I've got so many which I'm not done writing... I lose inspiration ridiculously fast. Hopefully this one will stay alive. So anyway I've tried to change this chapter as much as I could, though there will be parts that will be REALLY similar to the books, well, identical since it's not possible to change all parts... Anyway, this is just the beginning so the next chapter shouldn't have this problem, or if it does, there should be less of this problem. Thanks for reading! Hope you like it!
Edited (23/06/2017)
So I've gotten quite a few people talking about how the first chapter is nearly exactly the same as the book so I'm just going to add a summary of the chapter here so you don't have to read this chapter and can skip it. Just skip all the way to the bottom so you don't have to bother with this chapter...
Chapter One
Harry felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning. In the background, Riddle continued to speak-he was most probably gloating over his victory. Smiling wearily, he couldn't help but feel that if he was to die now, it wouldn't be so bad. He wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys, he wouldn't have to be in pain anymore. Sure, people would miss him, but they'd probably get over it… right?
No, he had to live. He had to live! There was still so much he had to do. Harry clenched his fist trying to force himself to focus. He had to live!
The chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. Harry pushed against the wall, forcing himself to stand up. Looking down, he noticed that his wound was gone, healed by Fawkes tears. Gritting his teeth, Harry raised his head, forcing himself to walk forward. Suddenly, his vision cleared completely and he felt a rush of energy surge through him. Nothing seemed impossible for him now. Laughing maniacally, he walked towards Riddle.
Riddle looked at him unsurely, raising Harry's own wand at him.
"Snapped Harry Potter? Can't even handle a little pressure?" Riddle sneered at him although there was a light of uncertainty in his eyes.
He raised the wand.
Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell in front of Harry-the diary. Harry grabbed it as it was falling and as he held it, the edges of the book began to curl up as the pages began to blacken. Orange flames consumed the book.
There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. However, the diary continued to burn. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then he was gone.
Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Complete and utter silence. The orange flames had extinguished and with it all his energy. Panting loudly, Harry knelt on the ground trying to regain his energy. Then, shaking all over, Harry pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he'd just traveled miles by Floo powder.
Stab the book with the fang.
Something inside him told him to stab the diary with the basilisk fang. As he was always one to listen to his instincts, Harry grabbed the basilisk fang before stabbing it through the book.
Once he was done, he gathered together his wand and the Sorting Hat, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the basilisk's mouth.
Then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Ginny was stirring. As Harry hurried toward her, she sat up. Her bemused eyes traveled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Harry, in his blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.
"Harry - oh, Harry - I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy - it was me, Harry - but I - I s-swear I d- didn't mean to - R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over - and - how did you kill that - that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r- remember is him coming out of the diary -"
"It's all right," said Harry, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the fang hole, "Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here -"
"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wept as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and - w-what'll Mum and Dad say?"
Fawkes was waiting for them, hovering in the Chamber entrance. Harry urged Ginny forward; they stepped over the motionless coils of the dead basilisk, through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Harry heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.
After a few minutes' progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sound of slowly shifting rock reached Harry's ears.
"Ron!" Harry yelled, speeding up. "Ginny's okay! I've got her!"
He heard Ron give a strangled cheer, and they turned the next bend to see his eager face staring through the sizable gap he had managed to make in the rock fall.
Traitor. Scum. Jealous.
His head began to pound. Frowning slightly, Harry told himself to be wary of Ron just in case his intuition/gut feeling/inner voice thing was correct.
"Ginny!" Ron thrust an arm through the gap in the rock to pull her through first. "You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened?" How - what - where did that bird come from?"
Fawkes had swooped through the gap after Ginny.
"He's Dumbledore's," said Harry, squeezing through himself
"How come you've got a sword?" said Ron, gaping at the glittering weapon in Harry's hand.
"I'll explain when we get out of here," said Harry with a sideways glance at Ginny, who was crying harder than ever.
"But -"
"Later," Harry said shortly. He didn't think it was a good idea to tell Ron yet who'd been opening the Chamber, not in front of Ginny, anyway. Not to mention the fact that Ron was obviously blind. Couldn't he see that his sister, not to mention he himself needed a break in the hospital wing or perhaps just a nice long clean shower? "Where's Lockhart?"
"Back there," said Ron, still looking puzzled but jerking his head up the tunnel toward the pipe. "He's in a bad way. Come and see."
Led by Fawkes, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, they walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting there, humming placidly to himself.
"His memory's gone," said Ron. "The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself"
Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at them all.
"Hello," he said. "Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"
"No," said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry. Harry just nodded at Lockhart finding him to be rather pitiful.
Harry bent down and looked up the long, dark pipe.
"Have you thought how we're going to get back up this?" he said to Ron.
Ron shook his head, but Fawkes the phoenix had swooped past Harry and was now fluttering in front of him, his beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers. Harry looked confused for a second before remembering that as a phoenix Fawkes could carry any weight. Grabbing onto Fawkes's strangely hot tail feathers, Harry motioned for everyone to grab on.
Ron, looked perplexed. "But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there -"
"Fawkes," said Harry, "isn't an ordinary bird." He turned quickly to the others. "We've got to hold on to each other. Ginny, grab Ron's hand. Professor Lockhart -"
"He means you," said Ron sharply to Lockhart.
"You hold Ginny's other hand -"
Harry tucked the sword and the Sorting Hat into his belt, Ron took hold of the back of Harry's robes, and then Harry grasped onto Fawkes's tail feathers even tighter.
An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through his whole body and the next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe. Harry could hear Lockhart dangling below him, saying, "Amazing! Amazing! This is just like magic!" The chill air was whipping through Harry's hair, and before he'd stopped enjoying the ride, it was over - all four of them were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and as Lockhart straightened his hat, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.
Myrtle goggled at them.
"You're alive," she said blankly to Harry.
"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime off his glasses. Now that he was out of the chamber, he suddenly realised how disgusting he felt and looked.
"Oh, well ... I'd just been thinking ... if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver.
"Urgh!" said Ron as they left the bathroom for the dark, deserted corridor outside. "Harry! I think Myrtle's grown fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!"
But tears were still flooding silently down Ginny's face.
"Where now?" said Ron, with an anxious look at Ginny. Harry pointed.
Fawkes was leading the way, glowing gold along the corridor. They strode after him, and moments later, found themselves outside Professor McGonagall's office.
Harry knocked and pushed the door open.
For a moment there was silence as Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Harry's case) blood. Then there was a scream.
"Ginny!"
It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.
Harry, however, was looking past them. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past Harry's ear and settled on Dumbledore's shoulder, just as Harry found himself and Ron being swept into Mrs. Weasley's tight embrace.
"You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"
"I think we'd all like to know that," said Professor McGonagall weakly.
Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry, who hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Hat, the ruby encrusted sword, and what remained of Riddle's diary.
Then he started telling them everything making sure to leave out the parts about the orange fire. Somehow, he felt that the orange fire should remain private. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence: He told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione had finally realized that he was hearing a basilisk in the pipes; how he and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how he had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom ...
"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, "so you found out where the entrance was - breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add - but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"
So Harry, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about Fawkes's timely arrival and about the Sorting Hat giving him the sword. But then he faltered. He had so far avoided mentioning Riddle's diary - or Ginny. She was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. Looking at her, Harry wasn't sure what to say. After all, it was not entirely her fault about the Basilisk being let free from the school.
Instinctively, Harry looked at Dumbledore only to stop himself and look down.
Liar. Fake. Manipulative. Don't look at him.
Every part of him screamed not to look at Dumbledore.
"What interests me most," said Dumbledore gently, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."
"W- what's that?" said Mr. Weasley in a stunned voice. "You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not ... Ginny hasn't been ... has she?"
"It was this diary," said Harry quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. "Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen . . . ."
Dumbledore took the diary from Harry and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.
"Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered.
"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school ... traveled far and wide ... sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."
"But, Ginny," said Mrs. Weasley. "What's our Ginny got to do with - with - him?"
"His d-diaryl" Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year -"
"Ginny!" said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you anything. What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic -'
"I d-didn't know," sobbed Ginny. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it -"
"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode over to the door and opened it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he added, twinkling kindly down at her. "You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice - I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."
"So Hermione's okay!" said Ron brightly.
"There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny," said Dumbledore.
Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken.
"You know, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, "I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?"
"Right," said Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with Potter and Weasley, shall I?"
"Certainly," said Dumbledore.
She left, and Ron gazed uncertainly at Dumbledore. Harry continued staring at his feet, finding his shoelaces looking very interesting. What exactly had Professor McGonagall meant, deal with them? Surely - surely - they weren't about to be punished?
"I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules," said Dumbledore.
Ron opened his mouth in horror.
"Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words," Dumbledore went on, smiling. "You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the School and - let me see - yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor."
Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart's valentine flowers and closed his mouth again.
"But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure," Dumbledore added. "Why so modest, Gilderoy?"
Harry gave a start. He had completely forgotten about Lockhart. He turned and saw that Lockhart was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. Wincing as Lockhart, Harry wondered if he could be cured. When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.
"Professor Dumbledore," Ron said quickly, "there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart -"
"Am I a professor?" said Lockhart in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"
"He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired," Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore.
"Dear me," said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver mustache quivering. "Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"
"Sword?" said Lockhart dimly. "Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though." He pointed at Harry. "He'll lend you one."
"Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too?" Dumbledore said to Ron. "I'd like a few more words with Harry… Harry brows furrowed at this.
Lockhart ambled out. Ron cast a curious look back at Dumbledore and Harry as he closed the door.
Dumbledore crossed to one of the chairs by the fire.
"Sit down, Harry," he said, and Harry sat, feeling unaccountably nervous. Why was he alone with Dumbledore again?
"First of all, Harry, I want to thank you," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling again. "You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you."
He stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto his knee. Harry grinned awkwardly as Dumbledore watched him.
"And so you met Tom Riddle," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "I imagine he was most interested in you . . . . "
Harry just nodded.
"You can speak Parseltongue, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly, "because Lord Voldemort - who is the last remaining ancestor of Salazar Slytherin - can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure..."
"Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?" Harry said, thunderstruck.
"It certainly seems so."
"Is it still there?" asked Harry desperately. The mere thought that there was a part of Voldemort in him disgusted him.
"I cannot say." replied Dumbledore after a brief period of silence. Harry couldn't help but scowl in aggravation. Wasn't Dumbledore the greatest wizard in the century or something?
Dumbledore reached across to Professor McGonagall's desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword, and handed it to Harry. Dully, Harry turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt.
Godric Gryffindor
"You have exhibited the true qualities of a Gryffindor Harry as only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat," said Dumbledore simply.
For a minute, neither of them spoke. Harry did not know what to say about Dumbledore's obvious attempt to redirect his question. Then Dumbledore pulled open one of the drawers in Professor McGonagall's desk and took out a quill and a bottle of ink.
What you need, Harry, is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban - we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too," he added thoughtfully. "We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"
Harry got up and crossed to the door. He had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.
Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.
"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly.
Mr. Malfoy almost knocked Harry over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face.
The elf was carrying a stained rag with which he was attempting to finish cleaning Mr. Malfoy's shoes. Apparently Mr. Malfoy had set out in a great hurry, for not only were his shoes half-polished, but his usually sleek hair was disheveled. Ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles, he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore.
"So!" he said "You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."
"Well, you see, Lucius," said Dumbledore, smiling serenely, "the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too ... Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."
Mr. Malfoy went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury.
"So - have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"
"We have," said Dumbledore, with a smile.
"Well?" said Mr. Malfoy sharply. "Who is it?"
"The same person as last time, Lucius," said Dumbledore. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."
He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. Harry, however, was watching Dobby.
The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.
"I see. . . " said Mr. Malfoy slowly to Dumbledore.
"A clever plan," said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Mr. Malfoy straight in the eye. "Because if Harry here" -Mr. Malfoy shot Harry a swift, sharp look - "and his friend Ron hadn't discovered this book, why - Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will ...
Mr. Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly masklike.
"And imagine," Dumbledore went on, "what might have happened then ... The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pureblood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and - killing Muggle-borns ... Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. "Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise ...
Mr. Malfoy forced himself to speak.
"Very fortunate," he said stiffly.
And still, behind his back, Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head.
And Harry suddenly understood. He knew who had given Ginny the diary however there was nothing he could truly do to Mr. Malfoy. Or was there... He nodded at Dobby, and Dobby backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment.
Smirking slightly, he went up to Dumbledore before asking for the diary. Dumbledore complied after a moment of hesitation.
Meanwhile, Mr. Malfoy had wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor.
Harry grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office. He could hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, wondering if this plan could possibly work, Harry took off one of his shoes, pulled off his slimy, filthy sock, and stuffed the diary into it. Then he ran down the dark corridor.
He caught up with them at the top of the stairs.
"Mr. Malfoy," he gasped, skidding to a halt, "I've got something for you -"
And he forced the smelly sock into Lucius Malfoy's hand.
"What the -?"
Mr. Malfoy ripped the sock off the diary, threw it aside, then looked furiously from the ruined book to Harry.
You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter," he said softly. "They were meddlesome fools, too.
He turned to go.
"Come, Dobby. I said, come."
But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up Harry's disgusting, slimy sock, and looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure.
"Master has given a sock," said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby."
"What's that?" spat Mr. Malfoy. "What did you say?"
"Got a sock," said Dobby in disbelief. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby - Dobby is free. "
Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf Then he lunged at Harry.
"You've lost me my servant, boy!" Harry just laughed loudly.
But Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry Potter!"
There was a loud bang, and Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby raised a long, threatening finger.
"You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing down at Mr. Malfoy. "You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now."
Lucius Malfoy had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight.
"Harry Potter freed Dobby!" said the elf shrilly, gazing up at Harry, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb-like eyes. "Harry Potter set Dobby free!"
"Least I could do, Dobby," said Harry, grinning. "Just promise never to try and save my life again."
The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile.
"I've just got one question, Dobby," said Harry as Dobby pulled on Harry's sock with shaking hands. "You told me all this had nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, remember? Well -"
"It was a clue, sir," said Dobby, his eyes widening, as though this was obvious. "Was giving you a clue. The Dark Lord, before he changed his name, could be freely named, you see?"
"Right," said Harry weakly when a sudden thought struck him. "By the way, you don't have to do this but will you become my house elf? I'll pay you and everything!" cried out Harry.
"1 sickle every month."
"What!" Harry was stunned. "Isn't that too little?"
Dobby threw his arms around Harry's middle and hugged him.
"Harry Potter is greater by far than Dobby knew!" he sobbed. "Dobby will only work for 1 sickle!"
Harry felt incredibly awkward but he nodded and hugged Dobby back.
And with a final loud crack, Dobby disappeared.
Harry had been to several Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this. Everybody was in their pajamas, and the celebration lasted all night. Harry didn't know whether the best bit was Hermione running toward him, screaming "You solved it! You solved it!" or Justin hurrying over from the Hufflepuff table to wring his hand and apologize endlessly for suspecting him, or Hagrid turning up at half past three, cuffing Harry and Ron so hard on the shoulders that they were knocked into their plates of trifle, or his and Ron's four hundred points for Gryffindor securing the House Cup for the second year running, or Professor McGonagall standing up to tell them all that the exams had been canceled as a school treat ("Oh, no!" said Hermione), or Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news.
"Shame," said Ron, helping himself to a jam doughnut. "He was starting to grow on me."
The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences - Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were canceled ("but we've had plenty of practice at that anyway," Ron told a disgruntled Hermione) and Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary, he looked resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again.
Harry had also managed to put the entire orange flame business out of his mind, at least until he was reminded of during an encounter with Zabini. As he was walking back from potions, Zabini suddenly stopped him.
"So it's you with the ridiculously pure Sky Flames." Zabini spoke, cornering Harry.
Harry just stared at him blankly. "Sky flames?"
Zabini looked shiftily around, casting several privacy charms before extending a hand. It was all normal, at least until Zabini's hand blazed with a yellow flame. "This is a Sun Flame. What you have, if I'm not mistaken should be an orange flame. That is called the Sky Flame. There are others like Storm, Cloud, Mist, Rain and finally Lightning." Zabini kept speaking as he watched Harry to see if he understood. In the end he sighed before he threw his hands in the air.
"I'll find a book for you. Don't tell anyone about flames."
"Okay?" The whole situation felt extremely awkward. Harry watched bemusedly as Blaise left.
Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny got a compartment to themselves. They made the most of the last few hours in which they were allowed to do magic before the holidays. They played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Fred and George's Filibuster fireworks, and practiced disarming each other by magic. Harry was getting very good at it.
They were almost at King's Cross when Harry remembered something.
"Ginny - what did you see Percy doing, that he didn't want you to tell anyone?"
"Oh, that," said Ginny, giggling. "Well - Percy's got a girlfriend." Fred dropped a stack of books on George's head.
"What?"
"It's that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater," said Ginny. "That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was - you know - attacked. You won't tease him, will you?" she added anxiously.
"Wouldn't dream of it," said Fred, who was looking like his birthday had come early.
"Definitely not," said George, sniggering.
The Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped.
Harry pulled out his quill and a bit of parchment and turned to Ron and Hermione.
"This is called a telephone number," he told Ron, scribbling it twice, tearing the parchment in two, and handing it to them. "I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer - he'll know. Call me at the Dursleys', okay? I can't stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to…"
"Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?" said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. "When they hear what you did this year?"
"Proud?" said Harry. "Are you crazy? All those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it? They'll be furious..."
And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.
Chapter One Summary
Harry gets bitten by the basilisk. However, just as he resigns himself to his death, he remembers that he wants to live. Forcing himself upright, he confronts Riddle with his wound already healed by Fawkes. Fawkes drops the diary in front of Harry who picks it up, causing the diary to burn. With the burning of the diary, Riddle dies. Then something in him tells him to stab the diary with the basilisk fang so Harry grabs the fang from the ground and stabs the diary. After this, Ginny wakes up. They make their way to Ron where something in Harry tells him not to trust Ron. Afterwards, with Fawkes help, they head up the pipe and go to Professors McGonagall's office. Upon seeing Dumbledore, something tells Harry that he isn't to be trusted. They explain what happened in the Chamber of Secrets with Harry omitting the parts about his flame. Everyone but Dumbledore and Harry leaves the office where they have a 'heart to heart' talk with Dumbledore being vague. Lucius Malfoy enters the room and after a conversation, Harry gets a brilliant idea and manages to free Dobby. After he free Dobby, he asks Dobby if Dobby will work for him, paid of course. Dobby agrees.
A few weeks after the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco, Harry is cornered by Blaise who tells Harry that his orange flames are called Sky Flames, informing Harry that he personally has Sun Flames. Giving up explaining the whole Flame theory and the like to Harry, Blaise warns Harry not to tell anyone about the flames and that he will try and send Harry a book about Flames. School term is then over. Everyone heads home for the holidays.