A Darker Path

by Illuviar

In the Chamber of Secrets, Harry faces a basilisk which is a bit bigger, with more potent venom. Fawkes tears only slow down the poison. Potter is victorious but his success costs him his life. Then Harry awakens at King's Cross station where he is offered a choice - to pass on and meet his parents or go back after absorbing two of Voldemort's Soul Fragments... Dark Wizard Harry.

2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Interrogation

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J. K. Rowling and the various publishers. This story is written with no commercial aims. I do not make any money from it.

$Parseltongue$

=ADP=

28 May 1993

Headmaster's office

Hogwarts

Harry waved at Dobby to follow him as he made his way back to the Headmaster's desk. He pointed to one of the free chairs and the little critter, who regularly had the stuffing beat out of him by one Malfoy or another, jumped on it. Harry drew his wand and started casting diagnostics and the appropriate healing spells at the elf, ignoring Dumbledore, who was watching the second year student's actions with rapt attention.

Dobby stared at his new master with huge eyes which looked ready to fall off of his face. The elf was muttering about the "Great Wizard Harry Potter, SIR!" which prompted a look of exasperation from the said wizard. When Harry finished patching the little fellow to his satisfaction, he sat in the nearest free chair and looked at Dumbledore.

"You have questions, professor. Ask them," Harry said.

The headmaster watched the raven haired boy warily. The way Harry was carrying himself. It was eerily familiar. Albus concentrated on the memories of every time he had met Lily's son. He could hardly compare the image of the shy child he knew with the boy sitting across his desk. This was not the Harry, who had been thirsty for approval and was looking at him as a grandfatherly figure. Instead, Dumbledore was facing someone who was sure of himself. Very sure of himself.

Was this behavior born of pride in the child's newfound abilities or a hint of arrogance? The way Lucius acted towards Harry, the sheer terror exhibited by Malfoy was concerning to say at least. The headmaster chose his words carefully. "Harry, my boy. That was one interesting conversation you had with Lucius. Do you care to enlighten me?"

Potter tapped his chin with the tip of his wand. He watched the headmaster from the corner of his eyes. The elder wizard was siting stiffly in his chair. There was nothing that would have concerned Harry few hours ago but now he could see the truth. The professor was tense, ready to spring into action. Harry pondered his options. If worse came to worse he had a very slight chance to last long enough for Dobby to take him out of the castle. He shrugged, hopping that it won't come to that.

Despite his newfound knowledge, he was still twelve years old. Too young to become a fugitive. Well, not too young, but certainly it would be inconvenient. Besides he knew how Riddle had spent his years in Hogwarts and was not too keen to follow similar path. Tom had been alone, seeing people as nothing more than pawns. But Harry was different. Running away would leave his alone, not a nice place to be when one was burdened with Voldemort's memories.

On the other hand, thanks to the influence of that bastard's memories, Potter was now a practical man. He would use people when needed but refused to see everyone as nothing more than chess pieces on a game board... Even if he was forced to play the greatest game of them all – the one of thrones with Magical Britain as the prize.

Harry was aware that ultimately he had few choices for his future. If he lived long enough and succeeded in disposing of Voldemort his alternatives would be simple – either be a powerful man who had to deal with the politics of the day; become little more than a pawn for whoever was in power after the dust settles or if he was truly unlucky he would be vilified by people too scared by the power he wields, and perceived as a treat that must be dealt with. Harry knew how fickle and unreasonable the Wizarding world was. If he lived long enough to defeat Riddle once and for all, his legend would grow even more. He would not be permitted to quietly disappear from the public eyes.

Suddenly, Harry had an epiphany. He knew how the headmaster had reached the position he was holding today. After Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, the headmaster had little choice in what he could do. If he had refused all the titles and positions which were heaped upon him and tried to melt in the shadows and mind his own business, the public would sooner or later accuse him of going Dark. His two most likely alternatives were to live in the spotlight or to become a victim of his own success. The same choice he believed that Dumbledore had to make decades ago. After all neither of them were the Flamel's who after few centuries in the spotlight were left mostly alone to live their lives in peace. Besides, at the time, with a lot less connected world, those two had much greater opportunity to simply disappear. It was not so nowadays. But most importantly, the Flamels didn't have to deal with anything that even looked like the Wizarding press, which could easily shape a society's perception and opinions.

Well, at least Harry knew what his realistic options after the endgame were. Plus, thanks to the influence of the soul fragments he had merged with, he had ambition to spare. However none of that was of immediate concern. He had a troublesome headmaster to deal with right now.

"Professor, as you have no doubt guessed, I did not tell everything when there were too many people listening. You never know when some git would take a stroll through someone's mind uninvited."

Albus winced.

"In order to save some time please answer one question for me, Headmaster. Do you know what exactly this diary was?" Harry jabbed his left index finger in the general direction of the notebook with a ragged hole in the middle, which was still on Dumbledore's desk.

Albus looked at the former dark artifact over his oversized nose with narrowed eyes.

"I have my suspicions but I'm not sure."

"It's a Horcrux. One of at least two Voldemort made. This diary was his first."

Dumbledore palled. This was worse than he feared!

"He made more of than one of these abominations?!" the headmaster whispered gravely.

The corner of Harry's mouth curled up in a grimace which might be confused with a mirthless smile. "He is an ambitious little bugger, isn't he?"

In a blink of an eye, Dumbledore had his wand out and it was pointing at Harry. Potter rolled his eyes at the theatrics. He was not surprised that the headmaster was reaching conclusion similar to that made by Malfoy.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore's voice thundered. The old man had let go of some of his usually excellent control. Magic swirled around the headmaster creating static which in turn caused his colorful robes to billow as if in the midst of a hurricane.

"Nice show, professor. There is no need of that." Harry waved dismissively at the deadly weapon pointed in his direction. He looked at Fawkes who was watching the spectacle put into display by his human with eyes shining with amusement. The bird thrilled cheerfully from its golden perch.

"Answer me! What did you do with Harry!?"

"That's quite a story. You see, I did not lie. Much. Everything happened as I told you except one tiny detail that had some interesting consequences if I say so myself." Harry was experiencing some kind of twisted pleasure by stringing along the headmaster who loved his secrets and had a penchant of misleading people when he deemed necessary. This time Potter's smile was genuine. He could sense the irritation of the old coot who did not like the dose of his own medicine he was receiving.

"Fine, fine. Time to illuminate the situation. You see, if that ruddy snake I had to deal with..." Harry glared at the professor but was careful not to meet his eyes. Not before he had chance to put the knowledge of Occlumency to good use and protect his mind. "By the way headmaster, will the next DADA teacher be useless fraud again or just try to kill me outright as last year?"

Dumbledore cringed. His plans for the stone had backfired spectacularly. Who would have guessed that Riddle had used that foulest of magics to survive? After all there were few necromantic rituals which, while very dark and requiring a lot sacrifices, might have accounted for the Dark Lord's survival and most importantly did not shatter one's own soul. Especially when accounting for the fact that after bouncing from baby Harry, the Killing curse would not be at full power when it hit Riddle. But that was discussion for another time. Yeah Dumbledore's attempt to force the resolution of the prophecy during Harry's first year was a mess of epic proportions.

"Well, we'll see with what I'll have to deal next year. But I digress. You see, the damn pet of Salazar Slytherin was a big bastard. Thanks to Fawkes I did not end as a statue." Harry winked at the Phoenix. "I owe you a lot of your favorite treats, buddy." The avian bobbed its head in excitement and chirruped merrily in agreement.

Albus cleared his throat. His wand was not wavering and was still aimed at Harry's head. The boy shrugged and continued his story.

"Where was I? Ah." Harry tapped his bandaged left arm with his wand. "As I told you earlier, the bloody basilisk managed to get me good with one of its fangs. What I did not share is that the damn thing was too old, I guess. Its venom was too potent and the Phoenix tears only slowed it briefly. They bought me enough time to deal with the Horcrux in the diary." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Then I died."

The headmaster glared at the lighting bold shaped scar on Harry's forehead. So what Poppy detected all those years ago was not just some dark essence of the curse and bit of Voldemort's magic. When he was researching for the way Riddle may have survived that evening, Albus had briefly considered the possibility but promptly discarded it. But now, with the diary as proof... Either the fragment from it was possessing Harry or he had been mistaken and the poor boy had been carrying around a piece of Voldemort's soul all these years. A piece that had taken over the body of James and Lily's only child.

"Tom." Dumbledore declared. The wand trembled in his hand. All came back to the prophecy. He did not want to believe it. Harry was dead and his body was possessed by Voldemort.

"Oh, get over yourself, Headmaster. I am not Riddle. There was no way for either fragment of his soul to successfully possess me. Hello. Basilisk venom. Destroyed horcrux. A lot more of that stuff was coursing through my veins. That mess had some unexpected consequences. By the way, how is it that for twelve years no one found out that I was soul anchor for that Morgana cursed bastard?!"

"Madam Pomfrey examined you as a babe. She was able to only detect dark magic on your scar which we believed to be little more than residue from the curse."

That piece of information caused Harry to frown.

"Well, I might overlook that. On one hand she hat to patch me up multiple time during my stay here and she did splendid job. But every time I was in the hospital wing it was another opportunity to detect that thing lodged in my head. And she failed."

"That is not something a healer usually looks for. I do not recall any mention of living Horcrux until now."

"Fair enough. Thanks to the copious amounts of venom donated by that troublesome beastie, I and both soul anchors died. Then things became... strange. Just before that, the piece of soul that was in the diary sought a way to survive once its container was no more. I believe what happened is partly because there was another shard in me. Just as I was dying the other piece tried to possess me. You'll find this part fascinating, professor. I found myself somewhere else."

Harry told Dumbledore about King's Cross station and the two variants of Riddle but did not mention the being who he believed to be the goddess of magic herself. This part of the story had the undivided attention of the old man. "You see, I was in a kind of limbo. With two extra pieces of soul to boot. So I was given a choice. Whether to cross over or go back."

The old man nodded. He was not sure if he believed the boy but he could not sense any lie in him. Perhaps a bit of omission. Apparently the youngster believed the story. Whether it was true or a hallucination caused by the venom was another question, but if that was the case it did not explain Harry's new abilities.

"You are alive. Whoever you are. You are not the boy who entered the Chamber of Secrets. That much is obvious."

"When I decided to come back I was not aware of the string attached."

"Ah?"

"Technically there were three souls in that place. One had to pass on. One body to which a soul could return. No, Headmaster, I am not a Horcrux for a second time. Though that might have been better in your eyes. My soul and the piece from the diary merged. I am Harry Potter but not as you know him. My soul was shattered and rebuild. So you are correct. That innocent child who went into the monster's lair did not come back. I have seventeen years of additional memories, headmaster. "

"Tom Riddle's memories," Dumbledore whispered. This was... For the first time in his long life, words failed Albus.

He pondered this new information. At seventeen Tom was a nasty piece of work. But that was before he started his travels and truly became the Dark Lord. Considering what he heard, Albus wondered if he could keep this boy, no a young man in a child's body from following the same twisted path. And the prophecy? Was it still in play? He should go to the Department of Mysteries and check its orb. That was the one sure way to know.

For a minute they stood in silence, each deep within their own thoughts. While the headmaster was pondering if Harry was saying the truth, or what he believed it to be, Potter was making plans for the summer. Going back in the hard labor prison that was his "home" was out of the question. If he did so it would not be long before his "loving" family met an unfortunate accident. Now, unless his parents were idiots, something he doubted considering the high praises heaped upon them by most teachers, there must be a will. Which if Harry was not mistaken was not executed. He wanted, needed to believe that his mum and dad did not wish him to be raised in Durzkaban.

"Let's say that I believe you. What are you going to do now... Harry?" Dumbledore was the one to disrupt the silence.

"Finish school. There are subjects which Riddle did not take or excel at while he was studying here. He barely scrapped Acceptable in Runes for example and there are some gaps in his memories about NEWT level transfiguration. I think that he fixed that later but that's something I do not know. Besides I believe that there will be some exciting possibilities for self-study."

"Is this the only reason you wish to continue as student? And for how long?"

'Fishing, eh Albus?' Harry wondered.

"Headmaster, I might have that cold-blooded son of a bitch's memories but I am not him! I have friends here and it was amply demonstrated that this place is not as safe as you are telling everybody who would listen! The safest place in Britain! Hah! I won't leave my friends to face alone whatever horror is unleashed in the halls of Hogwarts next!"

Interesting. Dumbledore raised an ancient, gray eyebrow. This was the first thing the boy said today that he believed unquestionably. Perhaps love truly was the power he knows not. Just not in the way Albus believed until now. If, when Voldemort returned... Harry could really become his equal. But his love to his friends could be what keeps him in the light. He could have never considered such a twist of fate. Fascinating.

Fawkes thrilled affirmative and sent feeling of support. So his familiar agreed. In a way Dumbledore was right. Love and loyalty might keep Harry from becoming the next Dark Lord. However he was not a Light wizard. There was something that most modern witches and wizards had forgotten. Light did not necessary mean good and Dark was not a synonym of evil. In the coming years the disagreement over this and similar points would make both their lives interesting in the Chinese sense of the word.

"You wish to continue school in your age group?" It was not really a question.

"Yes. Riddle was alone. He had no friends. I believe that contributed to his fall. There was no one who he trusted to keep him grounded. "

"I see." That was a conclusion Albus had reached a long time ago. This was the reason he requested the help of Molly Weasley. She had gently guided her youngest son into becoming Harry's friend. 'Now that which sounded as a grand idea two years ago had its pros and cons. On one hand, Ron was one of Harry's friends. On the other if or most likely when, the young man discovered this... hmm... manipulation is perhaps too strong word... There could be some serious trouble. Well, I'll cross that bridge when I reach it.'

"I wonder, headmaster. Is my life some kind of twisted experiment you are running?"

The old man was flabbergasted by that question. It came out of the blue.

"I do not know what you mean, Harry," answered a confused Dumbledore.

"Isss that ssso? Who left me with the Durleyssss? Consssidering that you sssent me back and brussshed assside my protetsss lassst sssummer I have to wonder. I ssspent ten yearssss living in a cupboard, Dumbledore!" Harry jumped on his feet and shouted, switching between English and parseltongue.

His furious voice was turning into hissing. "I wasss worked worsssse than a housssse-elf! I wasss ssstarved! Ssso tell me, am I an experimet for you to sssee if I turn out jussst asss Riddle? Only the consssstant beatingssss are missssing. Thossse were resssserved for when I did ssssomething freakisssh like accidental magic! Until my first day at primary sssschool I thought that my name wassss Freak, damn you!"

Albus recoiled as if struck! For a moment he met Harry's eyes which were blazing with crimson light. In spite of his shock, Dumbledore had the presence of mind to use a bit of passive legilimency and scan the surface thoughts of the agitated young man. If it wasn't for what he saw, the Headmaster might been equally amused and disturbed by Harry's antics. However, what he found in the boy's mind... Dumbledore simply stared, his wand hanging uselessly in his limp hand.

Harry was whipped with a belt the evening after he turned the hair of a teacher blue. Then he was thrown in his cupboard without food for days. Unfortunately accidental magic healed his back leaving no trace of the beating.

One moment he was painting a door, then he was removing the weeds from the garden, then he was mowing the grass. Cleaning, cooking meals which he was never permitted to eat. Endless chores from dawn till dusk every day. The foolish grin that stretched his face when he finally was told that his name was Harry Potter on the morning before he went to school for the first time.

Dumbledore's magic shook his office. Glass shattered. His master crafted silver instruments crumpled as if hit by sledgehammer. Fawkes had to take flight when his perch was shattered by invisible force. The Phoenix thrilled in distress at the fury of his human. Dobby was terrified by the wrath of the great elder wizard and hid behind Harry Potter, Sir!

The headmaster, watched through Harry's eyes as Potter's cousin and his cronies invented the game of Harry hunting. The boy watched with resignation how Dudley beat another kid that wanted to be his friend. Then there were the glares of teachers and neighbours who believed the lies spread by the Dursley's. Then there was that never sufficiently-damned cupboard. Home indeed! And the last summer, after Dobby pulled out his stunt... The small bedroom that was Harry's new room was turned in a cell more secure than the ones in many prisons...

Albus sagged in his chair. The torrents of magic that were trashing his office subdued. He broke contact with Harry's eyes. Those memories were genuine. The feeling of helplessness, despair and deeply buried anger were the real deal. He did not notice the tell-tale distortion of modified memories. Now Dumbledore knew. He had FUBAR'd by the numbers.

"Professor, in the future, please stay out of my head!" Harry snapped. "Did you see enough or am I still unreasonable little kid? What more do you need? Wizard oath? Pensieve memories?!"

"I believe you." Dumbledore rasped. The old man looked around his office at the devastation and sulked. What a mess. "We may need the memories extracted for viewing depending what you want done with the Dursley's. Unfortunately one thing has not changed. You will be safest in that house with your blood relations," Albus grumbled. Those wards based on Lily's protection were formidable.

"Morgana'sss titssss old man! I am not going back!" Harry shouted. Invisible wind shook the pieces of broken furniture and shattered trinkets.

"I did not say that you should return. I merely stated a fact which does not change despite what any of us may wish."

Harry glared at the chest of the headmaster but reined in his anger and started thinking. The pieces of the puzzle came together like broken glass mending under repairing charm.

"Blood wards. That's what all the fuss is about, isn't it?"

He received a nod in answer.

"Based on whatever protection you were granted by your mother's sacrifice."

"I absorbed a part of Voldemort's very soul. The essence of his being. Of his magic. The wards are as likely to trigger against me now or to ignore both me and Riddle if he returns. His pet Dead munchers too, thanks to the mark."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a minute. When he put it that way, Harry had a point. The wards might work as if nothing had happened. Or do what Potter was concerned about. Or something altogether different. Bloody mess. So much for his carefully laid plans to protect and raise this child. There was little more than a week before Harry would need new accommodation at any rate. He looked at the youngster who was still angry.

"What do you want to do with your relatives?"

Harry's glare intensified. This was another leading question. He smirked.

"What I want is to go Voldemort on their asses. What I need is justice."

Dumbledore looked relieved at that answer. This was something that the Chief Warlock was more than glad to help with.

"It would be best if the muggle authorities deal with them. The Dursley's," Harry spat the name like it was poisonous, "loathe anything abnormal. As if they were ever normal, the bastards. I want them dragged through the courts. Their precious reputation tarnished. Then destroyed."

The headmaster looked at Harry with a small frown. The boy was angry. Too angry perhaps but it was understandable. Besides after a trial and what Albus believed that would be undoubtedly guilty verdict, the Dursley's reputation would be destroyed. No one liked child abusers. Curiously this was one of the very rare cases in which Dumbledore did not think that a second chance is warranted. Those people were on their way to turn this boy in another Dark Lord.

"Two points headmaster."

"Yes my boy?"

"My parents will," Harry fixed the elder wizard with an uncomfortable stare.

"I sealed it shortly after Lily and James were murdered. I believed that it was for your protection at the time. Considering the chaos and the attacks that continued for weeks after Voldemort disappeared, I still think that it was the correct course of action. But perhaps I should have opened it few years ago. I am so sorry Harry. I forgot about it after so many years."

"I want it opened."

"We'll go to the ministry in few days when the immediate fallout of the attacks passes."

While Harry preferred not to wait he knew that the old man had a point. After being temporarily removed from office he'd have his hands full. Besides the petrified students will be healed in the morning and that could become a circus. He'll wait few days. But after the will reading, Harry decided he had to visit Gringotts where a second copy should be sealed, beyond the reach of Dumbledore. It would be a good way to see if the old coot tampers with it.

"Second. The basilisk. It is mine by the rules of conquest. I died slaying that thing and considering that I do not know if there is much left from the Potter's estates I may sorely need those finances in the future. If you for once do not interfere I'll donate ten percent of its monetary value and further five percent in potions ingredients to Hogwarts. For obvious reasons, I don't want the ministry to have anything to do with this."

For a moment Dumbledore wondered whether he should try to negotiate for a bigger share for the school. Merlin knew, with how the governors were about new equipment, which was sorely needed, Hogwarts could use every knut. But he decided not to push his luck. What Harry was offering was more than generous, especially when Lockhart had by all accounts proved to be a menace instead of help. That idiot was something else Albus needed to deal with too.

"Fair enough. May I suggest that you keep some of the ingredients for yourself? They are extremely rare and you never know when you'll need them."

"That is the plan. Goodnight professor." Harry looked around the office which resembled a recent battlefield. "You'll have your hands full tonight."

"It is my mess to clean up, Harry. Good night."

=ADP=

Once he had left the office with Dobby trailing behind him, Harry instructed the elf to transport him to the kitchens. He was in no mood for any more explanations that evening. He inhaled the rich dinner which the Hogwarts elves served while Dobby was entertaining them with tall tales about Potter's achievements up to date. Scaring the crap of Malfoy and freeing the overenthusiastic fella had a prominent place within the legend the elf was creating.

Harry made his way to the hospital wing where he found Mrs Weasley asleep on a chair next to the bed in which Ginny was recovering. He checked on Ron who was suffering under the effects of Skele-Gro potion. Thanks to the enchanted curtains, Ronald's shout, given when he saw Harry, did not wake the rest of the Weasley's.

"Blimey, mate! What happened? Are you okay? How did you save Ginny?"

"I'll live," Harry deadpanned. He gave his friend an abbreviated version which was conspicuously lacking any mention of him dying or soul fragments.

"Get some rest. Re-growing bones sucks."

Ron made a face remembering another of Lockhart's "innocent" mistakes. "Yeah. You'd know. At least the idiot didn't vanish the bones in my leg."

"Night, mate."

Harry left Ron on his own devices and went to the bed next to which where Hermione petrified form was placed. He tenderly traced the stone cold contour of her cheek.

"I did it, 'Mione. It was a basilisk as you found out. Everyone is safe now." He went on to tell her the story. "Please get better."

=ADP=

Next morning marked the beginning of one of the better days in Harry's life. After Snape delivered the freshly brewed Mandrake potions Hermione was finally revived. Harry watched how Madam Pomfrey used her wand to levitate the purple liquid to 'Mione's lips which immediately started regaining color. He watched fascinating how her skin started pulsing. Soon she lost the outward appearance of a statute crafted with impossible detail and the stone was replaced by pale skin. She blinked a few times in confusion, then saw Harry. He was tackled by a brown haired missile who proceeded to hug the life out of him.

"Harry!" Hermione sobbed in his shoulder. "You're all right!"

Then to his bewilderment she released him and started hitting his chest with her small but surprisingly powerful fist. "You prat! Never do something like that again! You could have died! "

In the next moment she was hugging him again.

'Girls are weird.' He thought. Harry smiled contentedly and hugged back his first friend.

"How could you? Facing a basilisk alone?!" Hermione sobbed on his shoulder.

"Shh. 'Mione. I am fine. Everyone is all right."

Poppy ran a few tests on Hermione and declared her ready to leave. She was led to the Great Hall by Harry who was afraid to let go of her hand. The day kept getting better and better. Ironically enough, now that Harry was pretty sure that he had become the Heir of Slytherin, his schoolmates started apologizing to him about their groundless accusations. To Hermione's utter horror, the end of year exams were canceled except for those in their OWL and NEWT years.

Dumbledore managed to make an ass of himself and increase the animosity which all Slytherins felt towards Harry by giving him and Ron 200 house points each without giving a good explanation. Apparently the whole basilisk fiasco was a deep dark secret and no one except the elder Weasley's, the people who were in the chamber, Hermione and professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, knew. At least the house cup was now guaranteed to be Gryffindor's.

The one high point was that Draco was conspicuously quiet for what little remained of the term.

=ADP=

When it became painfully obvious that as far as the headmaster was concerned the whole deadly monster at school issue was closed, Harry started scheming. He was determined to reveal some of what had happened, but not before Dumbledore unsealed his parents will. So he mixed with his schoolmates and was asking various questions, mainly about who's who in the Wizarding world and whoever in the ministry has relatives that are attending Hogwarts right now. To his surprise he learned, from the Weasley twins of all people, that the cute redhead girl in Hufflepuff that was in his year, Susan Bones, was the niece of one Amelia Bones. The Director of DMLE.

That evening, between dealing with his potions and charms homework, Harry got a small piece of parchment and wrote a note.

Dear Ms. Bones,

Certain facts about the attacks that were carried against our fellow students have come to my attention. I believe that they should be shared with the DMLE. Recently I was made aware that your aunt, Amelia Bones, is the Director of that fine institution. After the end of the school year please ask her if she knows details about what really happened this year. I will be glad to share what I know. You will be able to contact me by calling the house elf who will deliver this note. His name is Dobby and he will be able to contact me.

Regards,

A friend

"Dobby."

POP

"Harry Potter, Sir calls Dobby?!" The excitable little bugger appeared from thin air and started bouncing around. His long ears were flapping madly around like a bat's wings.

"Can you do me a favor, Dobby?"

"Harry Potter, Sir wants help form Dobby?!" The elf looked ready to start crying tears of joy.

"Please deliver this note to Susan Bones in Hufflepuff. Please make sure that no one but her sees or overhears you. And do not mention my name this time. If she calls you later, tell her that you can bring me a note if she wants to communicate but I need to remain anonymous until the end of the school year."

With another POP Dobby went on his errand.

=ADP=

An irritated red-haired girl was glaring at a house-elf who had delivered her a note. There were all kinds of rumors flying around about who or what carried out the attacks but there was no concrete information. And Susan was very curious girl. The contents of the note had an effect on her similar to that of a matador waving a red flag at enraged bull. It got her undivided attention.

She turned all too sweetly at the messenger who gulped. Dobby had a new appreciation for all that advn-tur-ous stuff that his master had to deal with. The elf gulped when Ms. Bones took a step towards him. Dobby had the nagging feeling that working for Harry Potter, Sir could turn out to be more dangerous than his time with the Malfoys. Take for example his current position. He was held down by two of House Bones elves who were called in by Susan to assist her after she read the note and Dobby refused to cooperate. She grinned at the poor little thing who gulped.

AN: Please review!