Title: Secrets in the Chamber
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters herein, nor do I claim them for my own. They belong to J. , Bloomsbury, W.B etc. and that is probably a good thing.
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG-13 (May go up later)
Warnings: Alternate 8th Year Fic.
Summary: In his 8th Year Harry decides to fix Hogwarts by destroying it. Before that though he'll have to fix Draco Malfoy, who's become a shadow of his old self and is sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets...
Author's Notes: My first HP multi-parter! Haha, wish me luck.
Secrets in the Chamber
Part One – Harry's Plan
"Harry, we're worried about you." The words were said gently but Harry still grimaced.
Lifting his head from the parchment in front of him Harry regarded his friends silently. Hermione had the decency to look down, a slight blush covering her cheeks but Ron stared him straight in the eyes, his chin tilting up defiantly.
"You have to know mate but recently you've just been…well, weird."
Harry quirked an eyebrow in response but kept quiet. Things were getting pretty amusing after all.
"Oh Harry!" Hermione finally burst out, "You know we love you, and we'll support anything you want to do but…do you really want to destroy a part of Hogwarts?"
Ah. So that was what this was all about. Putting his quill down for a moment Harry crossed his hands in front of himself and turned to each of his friends in turn, trying to make his face look as serious as he felt. He could still feel the corner of his lip twitching just ever so slightly but other than that he thought he did pretty well.
"Why wouldn't I want to?" He countered, watching as Hermione's brows furrowed.
"But you love Hogwarts Harry," she finally said after a moments silence, Ron nodding his head next to her.
"Yeah," he added, "You've always called this place your first home. So why do you want to destroy your home?"
Harry rolled his eyes, "I don't want to destroy all of Hogwarts," he stressed. "Just…parts of it. The parts that are…" He looked around, his eyes settling on the figure by the window. Dennis Creevey was curled up there, a small figure with such a heavy cloud of sadness around that he seemed weighed down by it all. Harry felt his heart ache just looking at him and let his eyes drift back to his friends again.
They both looked more understanding now and they looked at him sympathetically.
Harry bristled. He didn't want their sympathy – he didn't need it. They should save it to give to the Hogwarts students who did need it, the ones who every day had to know that their sister, or brother, or cousin had died there , or been crushed by that pillar or laid out in the Great Hall amongst all the other's who had died to save them.
It wasn't fair.
Hermione laid a hand on his arm, startling him out of his dark thoughts, "I understand – we understand," she corrected herself at Ron's gentle nudge, "But you can't just destroy part of Hogwarts – especially after all the effort it took Headmistress McGonagall and the other's to fix it."
Harry looked at her mulishly, "Well maybe they shouldn't have fixed it."
Hermione gave a sharp gasp of surprise and her look of sympathy turned to one of annoyance. "Harry."
"Well it's true," Harry interrupted her, knowing she was building herself up to a proper lecture by the look on her face and forestalling her. "People died here – right where we're standing." Ron looked down with a look of something like alarm flashing across his face. "Well, okay, not right here, but that Ravenclaw third year died over by the fireplace trying to help that first year student escape." He shuddered for a moment, "That first year has to look at that fireplace every day and remember that someone died for him. No kid should have to face that."
"So you want to what? Just blow up every fireplace in Hogwarts?" Ron snorted, "Good luck with that mate."
Harry shook his head, clenching his hands into fists before him. Why couldn't they understand? Why did no one understand? He wasn't being unreasonable – he knew he wasn't. A few of the other students had even come up to him and given him a list of places where they knew friends and family had been killed. Places they wanted to forget but couldn't.
"I don't want to just blow parts of Hogwarts up – I want to replace them."
It was Hermione's turn to try and reason with him again. She sighed heavily before saying, "Harry we've been over this – Headmistress McGonagall and the other Professors already restored Hogwarts to how it was before the war."
Harry couldn't stand it anymore.
He jumped out of his chair, his voice rising as he spoke, "That's what I'm talking about! Why did they do that? Did they think we'd like it the same as it was before everything? Like we'd just go back to how we were before…before everything? Like we could just forget people died? Like we—" He trailed off. Not because Hermione and Ron were looking at him like he'd gone crazy, but because Dennis Creevy in the corner was crying.
He'd made Dennis cry.
Cursing himself Harry stumbled as he tried to escape from the Common Room, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away from it all.
Damn it, why was nothing going right? Why had nothing gone right since the war?
As soon as they'd come back everything had just fallen apart and he had no idea how to fix it all. He thought he'd be helping when he joined the Restoration Effort, teaming up with his fellow students and the Professors to make Hogwarts as it had been.
But that had been wrong – he saw that now. He saw it every time a student skirted around a certain area on the floor, or averted their eyes away from a certain room, or avoided the Great Hall.
He knew that the students were thinner than they should be because they were missing meals – he also knew that the Houseelves did their best to make sure everyone was fed by leaving snacks everywhere. Hell he woke up every morning to find a fruit bowl by his head, but it wasn't right and something had to change.
So Harry had come up with his current plan. He would use his magic to demolish the parts of Hogwarts that students found distressing and then he would replace it – with something new that bore no resemblance to what it had been before. His first attempt had been in the Great Hall that morning when he'd used Reducto at the Gryffindor table. He'd managed to break apart half the plates and cutlery before Headmistress McGonagall had called him to her office.
She'd heard his story, reprimanded him, told him that he was under no circumstances to destroy anymore of Hogwarts and told him to leave.
She'd looked at him in disappointment.
Harry had locked himself away in his room for hours after that until Hermione and Ron had coerced him out into the Common Room. Then he'd started making his list.
He still had it clenched in his hand, the sweat on his palm making it stick to his skin.
Backing himself away into a corner between two suits of armour Harry took out his list, unrolling it and trying to straighten out the wrinkles his hand had caused. He'd written it all out in his best handwriting and he felt absurdly proud as he looked over it.
At the top was written, 'Harry Potter's Plan to Renovate Hogwarts'. Under that was a list, not just of specific places, like the classrooms which he'd put at the top, but also statues and portraits. He was still unsure about the portraits but he knew for a fact that some of them had been instrumental in the war and not all of them had been fighting for the Good so…they needed to go.
At the very top of the page were just three words: 'Chamber of Secrets.'
He frowned as he looked at his own familiar scrawl. Underneath he'd written, 'High priority – place of Dark magic. Why the hell is it still here?'
He still didn't know the answer to that question. He'd asked McGonagall herself but she'd blown him off with vague mutterings about Old Magic and not upsetting the Balance.
Fuck the Balance. People didn't balance – they needed a place to grieve that wouldn't constantly draw on all their bad feelings and memories of the war. They needed…they needed…
They needed him.
With a sense of purpose filling him Harry rolled his parchment up again and tucked it safely away inside his cloak. He'd decided on his course long before that day. He'd known as soon as he'd crossed the threshold to the school that something was wrong with Hogwarts. Something just felt…off. He'd been there during the days when Hogwarts was mostly crumpled stones and he hadn't felt even the slightest hint that something was wrong but as soon as he'd come back…
It was like having a hundred spiders crawling all over him. He went to bed staring at the ceiling wondering just what the hell was wrong with him. Now he knew though – it wasn't him, it was everyone else that was wrong.
McGonagall was wrong to fix the school. Hermione was wrong to argue with him. Ron was wrong to side with Hermione. The teachers were wrong for not fighting with McGonagall when she said she was going to open the damned school again. The students were wrong for coming back.
Before he realised it he was almost running down the moving staircases, dodging the students still up and about, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
He was panting when he made it the second floor and had to stop to rest, putting his hand against the wall and trying to regain control over his breathing. He was just about to move out when he heard a noise.
He plastered himself against the wall, not sure why he was trying to hide, just knowing he had to. He knew that voice after all; it was almost as familiar to him as his own. That obnoxious drawl that had haunted him through six years of school and beyond.
Draco Malfoy.
Harry still wasn't sure what he felt about the other boy now. He knew he shouldn't think of him as a boy though, they were both men now after all. They'd survived a war and come out of it, if not completely unscathed, at least still intact which was more than some of the other survivors could boast.
Trying to remain as quiet as possible Harry stretched his neck out, peering around the corner of the crevice he'd wedged himself into.
Malfoy stood there, hunched over in the middle of the corridor with his arms wrapped around himself. Harry wasn't sure what he was doing for a moment until he realised that Malfoy was shaking – and laughing.
It was a disturbing laugh, if only because no one was around to hear it except for Harry and Malfoy, Harry was certain, had no idea that he stood there.
Ragged blond hair fell into Malfoy's eyes and Harry was surprised to notice how unkempt it looked. He would always remember Malfoy's carefully slicked back hair. He and Ron had joked about it enough back in more innocent days. Now that hair was cut in jagged lines, as if someone had just one day decided to hack it away. Malfoy's eyes were dark and sunken into his face and he carried that look - the same look he shared with half of the student body, the one that had seen death and lived through it, the one that spoke of sleepless nights and terrible nightmares. Harry knew all about the Look because he'd seen it on his own face every time he had the courage to look in a mirror.
Malfoy had stopped laughing now and was instead stamping his foot into the ground over and over. He ground his heel down and spat on the floor before abruptly spinning around and leaving, passing by Harry without a glance.
He was left alone in the darkening corridor.
Without even thinking he made his way over to the area Malfoy had been standing. With a slight grimace on his face he bent down, picking up what Malfoy had been stomping on with two fingers and bringing it up to his line of eyesight.
It was a note, written by a shaking hand the words spiked around the small scrap of paper. The message wasn't eloquent but it didn't need to be to get a words across, they were fairly clear.
'Why did you return Malfoy? You should've been Kissed like the rest of those filthy Deatheaters!'
Snatching back his hand as though he'd been burnt by the parchment Harry watched as it fluttered back to the ground. He felt like grinding his foot into it too.
Pushing one hand into his hair Harry stared at the letter, a feeling something like despair bubbling up within him.
He'd never even thought about Malfoy.
And that thought confused him.
In all his years he'd never been able to forget Malfoy. He'd been one of those annoying constants in Harry's life, always just…there and sneering away with his pointy nose in the air and his posse of simpering Slytherins around him. Harry had become so used to Malfoy in his life that he wasn't sure what he'd do if Malfoy wasn't there.
So why had he forgotten him?
He'd been so focused on the suffering of the students…but Malfoy was suffering too wasn't he? He was clearly being targeted by the other students, being made into a scapegoat. Why had no one thought about that?
It was just another reason to add to his ever growing list as to why the school should never have been reopened. That didn't explain why Malfoy had accepted the invitation though. He hadn't needed to come back, coming back as an Eighth Year had been optional. Some of them hadn't come back – Harry knew that quite a lot of the Slytherins had turned their nose up at the offer and gone off to Durmstrang. Some had even decided to go out and get jobs – and been accepted under 'special circumstances'.
So why had Malfoy come back?
It was a question that circled around his brain as he made his way slowly to the Chamber of Secrets. He crept into the girl's bathroom, noting Moaning Myrtle's absence with relief. He was still pondering the Malfoy Dilemma, becoming so distracted by it that he almost didn't realise that the Chamber was open.
That bought him up short.
The sink was gone and the pipe was there in full display. Harry was instantly on full alert, grabbing his wand out of his pocket and dropping into a crouch as he aimed his wand in every dark corner.
No one came though. Harry half expected Ron to jump out and yell 'Boo' at him and after a few moments he began to feel very silly indeed.
Glad no one had seen his brief moment of paranoia he straightened his back but kept his wand in his hand. He wasn't stupid after all.
He shuffled forwards, stopping when he was mere feet away the entrance and studied the area, looking for anything that might tell him just what the hell was going on. There was nothing though, nothing that stood out and yelled 'Dark!' As far as Harry could tell there was nothing amiss.
Except the Chamber of Secrets was open.
He dithered for a moment at the entrance, unsure whether to go back to the Common Room to fetch his friends. It would take a while but what if something was down there…
Scowling to himself Harry set his shoulders. He was bloody Harry Potter and he was not afraid of some dead snake. Gathering his courage Harry took a deep breath before throwing himself down the pipe.
The ride down was just as thrilling and terrifying as it had been when he'd been younger. Of course, he was older and taller now so the journey seemed a lot shorter and he landed, not on a hill of bones, but on a mattress.
Something was definitely not right.
Looking around warily Harry quickly scrambled off the mattress, dropping back into his crouch. His wand was already out and he quickly bit off a 'Lumos' aiming his wand all around him before pointing it forwards.
He felt almost disappointed when he encountered…well, nothing. The place actually looked like someone had tried their hardest to clean it. The bones were gone, the horrid smell of decay had been replaced by…He sniffed, was that apple?
Shaking his head in bewilderment Harry carried on his examination of the corridor. The pile of rubble had been removed – the rocks that had blocked his way back all those years ago had vanished.
Things were just getting weirder and weirder. He knew that Hermione and Ron had been down here but he seriously doubted they'd had time to do any spring cleaning.
Narrowing his eyes Harry continued onwards, fingers tightening around his wand as he finally made it to the Chamber itself.
He was – well, confused at what he saw.
There was another mattress on the floor with bed linen that had been neatly folded on top, along with a small desk and chair, a student's trunk and beside that, also neatly folded, was a student's uniform. A Slytherin, he realised when he saw the green tie on top.
So a Slytherin was – what? Having a sleepover in the Chamber of Secrets?
Harry felt like laughing at the absurdity of it all. The basilisk was right there…
He turned to look at it only to find it gone too. His feeling of unease steadily growing he walked over to the desk and started shuffling through the papers that had been placed on top of it. The name 'Draco Malfoy' was written on each and every single one of them.
So Draco Malfoy was sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry grimly looked down at the papers in his hand. That wasn't right was it? Draco Malfoy was living in the Chamber of Secrets.
Why though, was Harry's thought, had Malfoy fled here of all places? He was just about to nose through the other papers when he suddenly heard a sound.
Spinning round on his heel he came face to face with the furious grey eyes of Draco Malfoy.
Gulping Harry gave him a wary smile. "…Hi?"
"What the hell are you doing here Potter?" Malfoy demanded of him angrily, wand out and pointing directly at Harry's chest.
Harry made a big show of putting his wand back in his pocket, showing his palms to Malfoy as he raised his hands slowly.
"Look, I've put my wand away. I just wanted to, you know, talk."
Malfoy gaped at him. "You want to talk? Whatever the hell for?"
"I want to know what's going on here," he gestured to the bed and the desk and the trunk. "I wan to know what's going on with you."
"Well, I don't care for Share Time with Potter so you can just leave, now," Malfoy replied, almost spitting the words in Harry's face as he jabbed in his wand forwards. "Before I make you regret coming down here."
Harry backed away slowly, hands still raised. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving," he assured Malfoy, watching as that drawn face relaxed, just slightly. The wand stayed steadily on him though as he inched back towards the corridor.
It was only when Malfoy had become just a speck that Harry turned around again. He had so many questions and only the boy he was leaving behind could answer them.
Well, no matter. There was always tomorrow.
Grinning to himself Harry almost skipped back to his Common Room. He had maybe, just maybe, found another person to save.
And he couldn't wait to get started.