Title Causality : The Chamber of Secrets
Author StrangeTidings
Characters Harry, Hermione, Ron, the usual crew. NO PAIRINGS.
Rating PG
Genre Action/Adventure, Mystery
Summary A change in perspective has far-reaching consequences. Harry, aware of the threat against him, faces second year.
Notes This is the beginning of the background canon I had in mind while writing a Peculiar Proposal. My beta flaked out on me, so this is currently unedited. Thus I would appreciate any input, be it concrit or flames. Thank you.
Disclaimer I don't own Harry Potter. Anything that seems familiar is not mine. It is owned by J.K. Rowling and her publishers.
A/N: Slightly edited for grammar :-D
Chapter 1
Wherein Fate Begins to Change and Harry Has Certain Feelings
"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear."
-- Mark Twain
Harry was heartily sick of the Hospital Wing at this point. He had been stuck in here with nothing to do for far too long. Madame Pomfrey seemed to be convinced that there would be terrible side effects of his confrontation with Quirrell. The only side effect that Harry had noticed thus far was his immense boredom. Harry was desperate for something to keep his mind occupied. Thoughts were swirling menacingly in the back of his mind, but he was determined to hold them off as long as he could. He had too much time to think. His rucksack was still in his dorm as it hadn't been a priority. He would have welcomed even his potions textbook at this point. Anything to distract him. He was the only one in the hospital wing, and even if someone else had been there, it was the middle of the night. Madame Pomfrey had already caught him attempting to sneak out once, and he didn't look forward to a repeat of his previous failure.
Eventually, the thoughts that he had been keeping out of his mind through sheer force of will resolutely intruded on his attempts to count the green tiles in the floor. The horrible face on the back of his professor's head seemed to grin at him out of the dark of the hospital room. Harry barely kept himself from yelping. This wouldn't do. The thought that this could very well drive him mad if he kept trying to deny it briefly flickered through his beleaguered mind. Sighing his surrender, Harry allowed his mind to begin processing his feelings on the whole matter. Which just sounded like something Hermione would recommend, a thought that momentarily cheered him. He could admit to himself now that his fight with Voldemort over the Philosopher's stone had unnerved him. Hell, if his previous little experience was a sample, he was pretty sure that he was bloody terrified of Voldemort. He immediately felt the need to defend himself. Harry scoffed a bit at the small part of his brain that kept insisting that he wasn't afraid. He had listened to that instinct all year. He had dove head first into the mystery of the stone thanks to that little voice. When it had become increasingly apparent that the madman who had murdered his parents was behind a great deal of the mystery, Harry knew he should have kept out of it. But that stupid little voice had kept insisting that he could handle himself. Well, if nothing else, Harry at least knew his limits now. There was no way he was going to be able to face Voldemort again anytime soon.
His mind followed the logical path of his previous thoughts, and the struggle with Quirrell once again stood out in his mind. Flashes of Quirrell's agonized face raced behind his mind's eye. He could almost smell the charring flesh in his nostrils again. Harry's stomach clenched and he could feel the bile rising in his throat. He barely made it into the small adjoining bathroom on time. He helplessly clung to the bowl of the toilet, praying that Madame Pomfrey would not hear him. Images of Professor Quirrell kept flashing in his mind, even as he fought the retching which was shaking his entire body. Quirrell greeting him nervously in the tavern, one of his first experiences in the wizarding world. Quirrell stuttering his way through a lecture on vampires, waving his garlic necklace about. Quirrell fainting dead away after delivering his fateful message of the troll. The troll which had cemented his friendships with Hermione and Ron. Quirrell standing forlornly in front of the mirror, already damned. Quirrell's face, melting under his hands, filling the air with the most horrible smell Harry had ever had the misfortune to experience. Tears fell unhindered and unnoticed down his cheeks. Had he ever known the real Professor Quirrell? No, and now he never would. He had killed a man. Harry wasn't sure he would ever be the same again.
The cool feeling of the porcelain on his forehead was soothing. He didn't even want to leave the small bit of sanctuary he had found. What in the world was he supposed to do? What does one do when the man who seemingly is the vilest person in recent history wants you dead? What do you do when you've killed a man before you've turned twelve? The panic was creeping up on him. What did they expect of him? He was just a kid! Was he supposed to kill Voldemort? A snort escaped as he pictured himself shoving his wand up the nose of that horrible face. Or maybe he could just slap him in the face and burn him to death? He began to giggle somewhat hysterically as he pictured a slap fight between himself and a slightly shadowy figure while the whole school cheered on. The whole situation finally hit him then. Here he was sitting next to a toilet, after having sicked up, giggling like a lunatic. And he had a crazy murderer after him. The giggling immediately stopped.
Harry climbed slowly to his feet and cleaned himself up. He shuffled back to his bed and sat down. Professor Quirrell once again came to mind as he looked down at his hands, but he just felt a deep sadness that Professor Quirrell was gone. He hadn't been that great a teacher, but he was still a person that Harry had known. His wandering eyes fell on his wand. His wand that had something to do with Voldemort's wand. Fear once again raced through him, but he didn't fight it this time. Maybe that fear would stop him from doing something monumentally stupid in the near future. And maybe that fear could force him to become stronger. He was going to need it if he was going to survive.
He felt restless. His mind was still racing with consequences and plans, and there was no way he could just sit down, never mind sleep. Wandering listlessly around the room, Harry's attention was finally caught by a glint of colour in the moonlight. Sitting innocuously on a bedside cabinet across the room from his own bed, lay what appeared to be a few sheets of parchment left behind by a previous patient. His curiosity woke to the surface, and not even his new thoughts of caution could stop him from snatching them up and examining them. A slow grin broke out on his face when he realized what he held in his hands. Here was a possible solution to quite a few of his problems. Harry rushed back to his own bed to pore over the parchment. Possibilities were beginning to open up in his mind's eye. Suddenly a tension he had barely been aware of seeped out of his shoulders. Something to do during the summer. Something to keep him sane through three months of the Dursleys. Something that could help him stay alive in the long run. He would have to check how much money he had left in his trunk from the beginning of the year. Harry hugged the Owl order form and book list from Flourish and Blotts to his chest as he searched for a quill. Hermione was going to be ridiculously proud of him, he couldn't help but think.
The next day was maddening. Madam Pomfrey was finally forced to release him so that he could pack his trunk for the ride home in the morning. From the sideways glances he was receiving from her, he thought he hadn't been as quiet as he had hoped last night. He could almost feel himself cringing away from her, afraid of what she would want to know. Madam Pomfrey was nothing if not observant.
"Mr. Potter, I'm not going to pry into your life, so you don't have to flinch away from me quite so much. You're making me feel quite guilty." She gave him a small reassuring smile and Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards her. He knew she suspected a lot of what he was trying not to think about, but he was glad she was able to joke with him about it a bit. It made the whole situation seem less terrible in a way. He smiled back at her and she gave him a little squeeze on the shoulder. "Now, since I am not privy to all of the details of what went on, I can't really give you too much advice. If you hadn't reacted poorly to what I think happened, I would have kept you here whether Dumbledore agreed to it or not." Harry realized that she must have known what he was going through last night. He felt slightly grateful that she had at least left him alone to deal with it instead of drugging him into sleep. She seemed to hesitate a bit, as though unsure of the reception of her next words. "If you start having nightmares Mr. Potter, please owl me. I can at least help with that." Harry's smile, frozen by her earlier assertions of keeping him, moved across his face once again.
"Thanks Madam Pomfrey." He smoothed down his robes, feeling the owl order form in his pocket. It was a reassuring presence. Something he had control over. He nodded his head at Madame Pomfrey and finally escaped the Hospital wing. Harry practically flew to the seventh floor tower, intent on packing his trunk and checking his wizarding funds. He could not remember for the life of him how much money he had shoved in his bag back on his shopping trip with Hagrid. There was nothing to spend money on during the school year, so he knew there would be some money left over. He just hoped it was going to be enough for all of the books he had decided he wanted the night before. He was also anxious to see Ron and Hermione again. Dumbledore had already told him they were fine, and they had come to visit him once, but he had a strange urge to check on them again. He was almost afraid they had vanished in the night.
Harry shouted the password at the Fat Lady and practically dove through the portrait hole. He had barely managed to right himself after his headlong entrance into the common room, when a cloud of bushy brown hair was immediately clouding his vision and he felt like all of his ribs were breaking. His arms were pinned to his sides and a high speed babbling was assaulting his ears. He relaxed and stopped his struggling; hoping Hermione would realize he was OK soon. She seemed to collect herself suddenly and pulled back. He noticed the shine of tears in her eyes and felt affection flood him. Here was one of his true friends. Ron appeared from nowhere and slapped him on the back. Contentment flooded him. Here was where he was welcome. Here was where he belonged. He was jarred out of his contemplative mood without warning when Hermione grabbed him by the shoulders and shook a bit.
"Harry, are you alright? Did Madame Pomfrey say you were well enough to leave? Why were you staring into space just then? Did you sneak out of the Hospital wing again?" She glared disapprovingly at that final question and Harry couldn't help but laugh a bit at her expression. Trust Hermione to assume the worst. Her glare sharpened at his laugh and he rushed to reassure her.
"Hermione, I'm fine. I was just thinking how lucky I was to have you two for friends. Of course Madame Pomfrey released me. There's nothing wrong with me, and I have to pack." Hermione looked unconvinced, and Ron was looking a bit uncomfortable at his declaration of friendship. But he once again patted Harry on the shoulder so he figured it was just embarrassment. Now that he had seen them for himself again, Harry was reassured that they weren't about to disappear. They still wanted to be his friend.
He started drifting towards the boy's dorm and they followed him. They were both attempting to fill him in on the happenings of the school over the past day. They started talking over each other and arguing, but Harry was just happy to be around them so he made no attempt to stop them. The dorm was empty when they got to it and Harry was momentarily glad. It would make checking his money easier. Hermione perched herself primly on his bed and Ron sprawled out on his own. Their argument didn't even falter. Harry started digging into his trunk, rooting around for the bag he knew contained his gold. He finally found it in the back right corner under an old pair of trousers. Pulling it out, he was reassured by the weight. He sat down next to Hermione, still tuning out their argument, and dumped the bag out on top his bed. He started counting and placing coins back into his bag. In his single-mindedness it took him a moment to realize the argument had ground to a screeching halt. The quiet finally hit him and he looked up into the shocked faces of his two best friends. "What?"
Ron helplessly sputtered at his question. Hermione at least had the presence of mind to respond. "Harry! Why did you bring so much money with you to school? Did you convert every pound you had into galleons? What are you going to do this summer? Will your aunt and uncle take you to Diagon alley? Why didn't you put some of your money into the bank? Did you think it was safe in your trunk?" Harry desperately tried to keep up with all of her questions, but she wouldn't slow down enough for him to interrupt. Ron was slowly turning red and his eyes hadn't left the pile of money on the bed. Finally Harry lunged at Hermione and covered her mouth with his hand. He stared, horrified at his hand as if it weren't even a part of him. Hermione stopped talking and went very still. Just as Harry's mind began to catch up with his hand, she grabbed at his hand. He fought to keep her mouth covered, because he knew he wasn't going to like the lecture that she was sure to attack him with the second he let her. She finally stopped struggling and crossed her arms angrily over her chest. An apology and explanation were already rushing out of his mouth.
"Hermione please stop being mad, I'm sorry I covered your mouth. I don't even know why I did it! I was trying to answer you but you just kept asking more questions and I didn't know what to do and I'm sorry!" It was all coming out so rushed but he didn't care! Harry just needed her to forgive him. She got a calculating look in her eyes, and her arms slowly uncrossed. He hesitantly moved his hand. She gave him one more long stare, and then shrugged. His relief almost made him dizzy. She gestured towards the pile of gold, still obviously waiting for an explanation. Harry glanced at Ron again, but he seemed to be OK. He still wasn't taking his eyes off the money, but he was back to his normal colour at least. "Right, well, this is obviously money that I got when I was doing my school shopping last summer. I didn't know how much anything was going to cost, so I just filled the bag they gave me. It was way too much, but I didn't get to go back to Diagon Alley before school started. I don't have any Muggle money and I can't trust my aunt and uncle with my money, so I had to take it with me. My trunk seemed like the safest place. I don't need any Muggle money for the summer because my aunt and uncle wouldn't let me spend it anyway. Were there any other questions?"
"Is this all the money you have?" Ron unexpectedly questioned. He still wasn't really looking at Harry, but he wasn't staring at the money either, so Harry answered him.
"No, there's a vault at Gringotts that my parents set up for me I think. That's where I got this money. It's for my education they said. There's still money in there. It's supposed to last me seven years so I knew not to take all of it." Ron looked as though someone had punched him. Too late Harry remembered some of Malfoy's taunts to Ron. He vividly remembered that most of them had revolved around the fact that the Weasleys were poor. At least it explained a bit of his reaction to the gold. Ron was struggling not to get mad. Harry could recognize the signs at this point. Harry felt a bit angry himself at this point. It wasn't as if he was trying to rub it in Ron's face was he? He just needed to know what he had so he could get his order out. Ron at least still had his mum and dad. Harry would trade all the gold in his vault for that. Hermione's voice cut through all the tension in an instant.
"Harry, why did you dump out all your money in the first place?" He spun back round to face her and was glad to see she didn't seem mad at him anymore. He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out the Owl order. Her eyes lit up when she saw it and she snatched it from his hand. She hummed appreciatively as her fingers traced over the names in the book list. It took him a moment to realize that she was paying particular attention to the ones he had marked last night. From her growing smile, he had to guess she approved. "Harry this is wonderful! If you study these over the summer, it should help you immensely. I'm so jealous. My parents don't want me to spend too much money on books. I have a weekly book allowance. There's no way I'd ever be able to afford all of these. I get so bored during the summer and Madame Pince can't even let me borrow any books from the library. She catalogues them and repairs the ones that need it over the holiday. But Harry! You aren't going to be spending too much are you?" At this question he stole a look at Ron, but Ron was still steadily ignoring the two of them. Harry sighed but figured he would come around eventually.
"Well, that's why I was counting galleons. I don't even know what I have here. I'm pretty sure that what's left in my vault will be plenty to get me through school, but if I do spend too much now, it probably won't be a problem until seventh year. I can get a Muggle job the summer before and make enough money to get by if I need to. Trust me; I had a lot of time to think last night." Hermione jumped a bit guiltily, and leaned forward to peer at his face. He didn't even try to hide how tired he was. Sleep had been a long time coming last night. She patted him on the arm, and began counting galleons silently. He smiled his thanks and joined her. In the end they added their tallies and he was a bit surprised at how much money he had on him. He thought back to how small the pile he had taken had seemed compared to the mountains of coins in his vault and felt better about the whole thing. Harry really doubted he was going to run out of money any time soon. The entire time he and Hermione had been counting his galleons, Ron had been moodily packing his trunk. Shoving his clothes forcefully into the cramped space, slamming the lid, he did everything in his power to let them both know without words that he was upset. Harry really didn't know what to do with him. He ignored it for now in favour of going over the book list again with Hermione for books that she felt were absolutely necessary for his education. Knowing now that he was in no danger of bankrupting himself, he went along with it. He laughingly accused her at one point of using him to get the library of her dreams. Her wistful expression convinced him he wasn't far from the truth on that one. When she started helping him pack he had finally had enough. "Hermione, I can pack myself, there isn't a whole lot of time before the Leaving feast. Don't you have to pack your own trunk?" She looked highly offended at that point and he wondered how he kept managing to upset his friends.
"Honestly, do you think I would still be here if I hadn't packed already?" She spit out, and then continued her apparent mission to fold all of his clothing and repack it. Harry gave it up as a bad job at that point. If she wanted to help, he was tired enough to let her without a fight. He concentrated on searching the room for anything he may have misplaced over the course of the year. His search was rewarded with a lone sock under Neville's bed, a counterweight for his scale set under his own bed, and his book on owl care wedged between his headboard and the wall. When he focused on Hermione once again she was folding a pair of his boxers. His face felt like it was on fire and he snatched them out of her hands. She glared at him, completely unperturbed by the situation. He shoved them back in the trunk, and grabbed the folded clothes she had been working on. They swiftly followed the boxers into his trunk. She harrumphed once, then moved on to counting out the galleons he would need for his finalized purchase order. Harry left her to it and finished packing everything else. When that was finished, he started shifting the pile of coins she had counted out into the lone sock he had found. It would at least make it easier to carry to the owlery. She raised her eyebrows, and he could see her barely restraining herself from saying anything, but she remained silent. The Gringotts sack was shoved back to the bottom of his trunk, the sock full of galleons for Flourish and Blotts was in his robe pocket with the order form, and he was finally ready.
Ron was still sullenly lying on his bed, ignoring them as hard as he could. Harry couldn't take it anymore. "Ron! If I give you all the money in my vault, will you give me your family?" Harry figured it was kind of interesting to watch the colour drain from Ron's face, and then be swiftly replaced with a deep red. Before he could explode, Harry yelled once again, "Stop being such a prat! This stupid money is the only thing I have of my family. I would trade it all in a second for a family. Any family! If you can get my family back, I'll give you every knut I have. Is it a deal? Do you honestly care that much about money?" Ron's mouth was moving, but nothing was coming out. At least it looked like he was thinking about it. Finally he stopped moving, and really looked at Harry for the first time since he had spilled out the money.
"No deal Harry. Sorry." Harry could tell he was apologizing for more than just turning down his crazy deal. Harry smiled, and it was slowly returned. He went over and slapped Ron on the shoulder.
"I guess I'll just have to borrow your family then. Maybe we can set up some kind of time share?" Ron snorted and Harry knew everything was going to be OK. He stood up and started dragging Harry towards the door.
"Come on Hermione Junior; let's get you to the owlery so you can get your summer reading." Harry laughed even as Hermione tried to deny that she had anything to do with his decision. Her scolding continued the entire way to the owlery, and Harry was once again content. Everything was as it should be.
Hedwig was not best pleased to be asked to go on a long flight right then. She had obviously been waiting for Harry to come up and put her in her cage for the long train ride home. She kept turning her back to him and he almost despaired of ever getting his books. "Hedwig, please! I need to get this order out. It's only going to Diagon alley! That's not that far!" She spun her head around and made a harsh barking sound at the words Diagon alley. He racked his brains for something to convince her. Ron and Hermione were useless. They had long since collapsed in laughter at the sight of Harry begging his owl to make a delivery. Harry had put the order form and galleons in a box he had found in the owlery supply cupboard. He felt the weight of the box and grimaced a bit. He supposed he couldn't really blame her. It was rather heavy and it took the train a full day to get to London from school. The thought of the train leapt out at him and he felt a great epiphany. "Hedwig, what if you come with me on the train, and left from King's Cross station? Would that be alright?" She slowly turned around, as if contemplating his idea. Then she hopped from her perch to his shoulder and he knew she had accepted the compromise. He glared at his hysterical friends, and stomped out of the owlery.
It was a long walk to the Gryffindor dorms, where he had left her cage. Harry had never before really appreciated her weight and the claws which were threatening to make their way through his robes. His mind flashed back to Madame Malkin's and when she had asked what kind of pet he had. She must have guessed there was an owl in his future since she had reinforced the shoulders of his robes. The heavy canvas had always been a bit uncomfortable, but now he praised her foresight in his mind. Hedwig would have probably punctured his shoulder without that extra protection. Ron and Hermione caught up with him halfway back and they seemed to have finally collected themselves. Or at least they kept their sniggering to manageable levels. He had a bit of trouble getting through the portrait hole, but Hedwig obligingly flew through ahead of him and settled on the back of a chair. Once he was through himself, she launched herself at his shoulder again and he hauled himself up the stairs to his dorm room. She settled into her cage without a fuss. He filled her water dish from the bathroom since he did not know how long it would take before the mysterious forces of the castle would bring her to the train platform.
The trio finally made their way down to the Leaving feast. It was well under way when they arrived. The hall was covered with Slytherin colours and the Slytherins were being much rowdier than normal. Malfoy was holding court at the end of the table with the other first years. Harry could see him wildly flailing and knew he was recounting some ridiculous story. They made their way to the end of the Gryffindor table, unnoticed by most. Ron immediately began piling food on his plate, bemoaning the lost eating time. Harry and Hermione swiftly followed him. Harry could almost hear his stomach complaining, even over the din around him. After last night, he had trouble eating that morning and his stomach was vehemently reminding him of his neglect. He had skipped lunch in favour of getting his trunk in order as well, so he was starving. Harry had almost as much food on his plate as Ron. Before he could begin to enjoy his long delayed meal, he had a sudden feeling of being watched. He put his fork down and quickly glanced around. Malfoy was glaring at him, but that was such a commonplace occurrence that he immediately ignored it. Finally his eyes fell on the Head Table. Snape was also glaring at him, but it was the third gaze that made him uncomfortable. Dumbledore was staring at him with a peculiar intensity. It made him squirm and wonder if he had done something wrong. He spun back around and concentrated on his food. He didn't think it was a big deal to be late for the Leaving feast. Didn't most people have last minute things that they had to do? If he had been breaking some rule, he was sure Hermione would have been scolding him about it long before now. And she would know. An older Ravenclaw student came into the room at that moment and made his way to the Ravenclaw table. Nobody was treating it as anything odd. Harry stole a glance at Dumbledore again to see if he had noticed. Dumbledore was speaking with Professor McGonagall as if nothing had happened. Harry forced himself to ignore it and concentrated on his food.
A hush slowly made its way through the crowd. Hermione pulled on his arm and slapped Ron's hand to get his attention. Harry was almost finished with his dinner and was looking forward to dessert. He belligerently glared at her and she subtly pointed in the direction of the Head Table. Dumbledore was standing and gazing out over the crowd. Everyone had stopped eating and was staring at him. Apparently this was not normal behaviour at a Leaving Feast because the older years were looking just as confused as the first years. Once the entire hall was completely quiet, Dumbledore began to speak.
"I know it's a bit late in the feast, but there are some last-minute points that I need to distribute and I needed to wait until all of the recipients had arrived." Harry felt a bit of dread at his words. What was Dumbledore doing? He suddenly prayed fiercely that the Ravenclaw he had seen enter earlier had done something worthy of points today. The new cautious voice in his head was screaming that attention was the last thing he needed. Harry just wanted to blend in as best he could and keep his head low. Who cared about stupid points when his life was on the line? Harry's unease grew as Dumbledore awarded the three of them, plus Neville, exactly enough points to steal the House Cup from Slytherin. The Hall went wild. People were screaming and shouting, half of Gryffindor seemed to want to hug him. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff just seemed to be glad that Slytherin had lost. As the Hall was redecorated with the flick of Dumbledore's wand, Harry turned to see the Slytherin table with a sinking feeling. Every student at the table was glaring murderously at him. He groaned when he saw the hatred in their eyes. The last thing he needed was more enemies. Now he had an entire house praised for their cunning out to get him. What was Dumbledore thinking? He had a fierce desire to snarl at the Slytherins, but his new-found cautiousness prevented it. He didn't want to antagonize them any more than he had to. He allowed his confusion to show on his face, and he saw a few of the faces turn away with disgusted sneers. He would gladly accept them underestimating him over outright hatred. Malfoy only seemed to get angrier, but Harry accepted that as a necessary evil. Malfoy seemed to be determined to hate Harry. Of course Harry was going to try really hard next year to stop responding to Malfoy. It only lead to trouble. Trouble that he didn't need. He was going to have to talk to Ron about that too. Once things had calmed down a bit again, dessert appeared on the table, and people soon forgot about the upset in favour of treacle tarts and puddings. Harry wasn't feeling very hungry any more. His worries from the previous night had assaulted him again. He waited until Hermione and Ron were done, picking at his food, then he shuffled out of the Great Hall with the rest of the Gryffindors.
He took Hedwig out of her cage when he got to his room and placed her on his bed. He flopped down on his pillow and ignored the noise from his dorm mates. Ron was regaling them with the tale of his massive chess match. Apparently he hadn't been sure if he was allowed to tell people, but now that it was out, Ron was in his element. Harry just didn't want to be bothered with it all now. He lazily made a motion with his wand and the curtains closed on his bed. Hedwig squawked, so a quick lumos allowed him to see her. She did her odd little hopping motions on the bed until she was looking down into his face. He ruffled her breast feathers and she settled down. The soothing motion of running his fingers through her feathers calmed him. He focused on the package at the top of his trunk. Tomorrow, he would send Hedwig off, and she would return with his order. The books were beginning to take on epic importance in his mind. They were a symbol of his continued survival. Briefly the warnings they had been given about practising magic outside of school flashed in his mind, but he pushed them away. He would read and study, he would focus on learning enough to keep him alive. Somewhere he was sure was the information he really needed. Something to defend himself from Voldemort. Something to keep him alive. Nothing else mattered.