A Sensational Story

Author's Notes: Just wanted to express my appreciation for the response to this story – more than sixty favourites, and over a hundred followers! Thank you all so much!

Once again, thanks to White Squirrel for beta-reading this chapter, and offering his valuable inputs!

Disclaimer: Recognizable portions in this chapter have been taken from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, by J.K. Rowling. I neither own nor intend to make any profit from the use of Harry Potter and the associated characters of the series, in my story.

Chapter 2: McGonagall

Dobby's Warning

The Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was usually noisy when filled with students; their laughter and chatter, coupled with the chinks of cutlery against plates as they ate their food, echoed around the Hall. The only exception to this was when an announcement was being made by a Professor – and even then, despite the fact that pin-drop silence was maintained during such occasions, there was always a certain student, or a group of them, who did not bother paying attention.

This time, however, was unique: not one person's attention wavered as Professor McGonagall's voice filled the Hall with her narration of the second chapter.

'Chapter 2,' she read out, 'Dobby's Warning.'

Harry and Ron immediately looked over to the Slytherin table for a reaction from Draco Malfoy, and they were not disappointed.

Malfoy, who had started to lose a bit of interest at the incessant narration of Potter's life outside Hogwarts, immediately sat up in his seat at the mention of his old house-elf. What on earth was Dobby doing outside the Manor at night? And why was he delivering a warning to Potter, of all people?

Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron were grinning like Cheshire cats, more so due to the prospect of seeing Malfoy's response to what Dobby was about to say.

'Harry managed not to shout out, but it was a close thing. The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Harry knew instantly that this was what had been watching him out of the garden hedge that morning.'

'That sounds suspiciously like a house-elf,' said Sprout.

'Yes, I suppose it does, Pomona,' said Minerva, staring down at the description in the book. 'Large ears, green eyes…all we need is a dirty cloth or pillowcase for what it's wearing, and that would complete the picture.'

'Well, at least that solves the mystery of the staring hedge, Filius,' interjected Dumbledore. Flitwick, perched upon his usual tower of cushions, nodded with an expression that clearly meant 'I knew I was right.'

'Harry noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm-and leg-holes.'

'Have you read this book before, Minerva?' asked Flitwick suspiciously.

'Definitely not,' retorted McGonagall.

'He wanted to ask, "What are you?" but thought it would sound too rude, so instead he said, "Who are you?"

"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," said the creature.'

'So, that's Dobby,' said Parvati and Neville together; they looked at each other at the odd coordination, blushed, and looked away immediately.

'Yeah,' said Harry, oblivious to the interaction between the two.

Once again, Draco's head jerked up at the mention of his family's old house-elf. He had been shocked to find out that Dobby had been freed by his father, but had not thought to ask about the circumstances that resulted in it. All he knew was that Potter had been involved – again. He glared at Potter, who had been gleefully grinning for some unknown reason at the start of the chapter – silently wishing that the Dark Lord could hurry up and finish him off.

When Harry asked Dobby to sit down on his bed, the whole school – or at least the pure-bloods, let out gasps of amazement. Even the staff looked quite impressed. Most of them turned to stare at Harry, who ducked his head in embarrassment. Showing politeness to a house-elf was quite unheard of – there were very few families who did so. The general consensus regarding house-elves was simple enough – they were not meant to be seen or heard, as long as they did their work properly and without fuss.

Thus, it came as no surprise – to students from these families at least – that Dobby reacted the way he did upon hearing Harry's request. House-elves, in general, were quite sensitive when it came to their interactions with humans – like Dobby said, it was rare for witches and wizards to see them as equals, instead of servants; when treated like the former, however, it tended to send them over the edge.

Dobby's sudden act of punishing himself – by banging his head against the window in Harry's room – drew yelps of shock and sympathy from more than a few students; most of them were female, and were those who had not been exposed to any sort of interaction with house-elves before in their lives.

'"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir. …"'

Those in the student body who were smart enough made the connection almost instantaneously: Malfoy's sudden yell at the beginning of the chapter, and Dobby's admission of almost speaking ill of his family when agreeing that there weren't many decent wizards around. The Malfoys were rich, pure-blood, and most certainly Dark, despite Lucius Malfoy's claims at the end of the last war, and Fudge's explicit confidence in him.

'"…Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this –" Merlin's beard!' exclaimed McGonagall. 'That's barbaric – how do they allow for such punishments to happen?!'

'I think it is more of a question of how creative they can get without killing him outright,' said Snape, a hint of disgust creeping into his tone.

Once again, amazed and awe-struck stares were directed at Harry when they heard of his offer to help Dobby out of his servitude to his family that encouraged regular punishments. Few witches or wizards ever sought to offer such assistance to a house-elf: they were considered as a species below human beings, for whom such compassion was uncalled for. The reasons for this varied – it was either out of a holier-than-thou attitude, or simply out of disinterest towards their plight.

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione turned to Harry.

'You were all ready to help Dobby out then, but you have no interest in S.P.E.W.?' she asked, a tad angrily.

Harry raised his arms in surrender. 'I never said I had no interest, Hermione. I just think you're going about it the wrong way.'

Hermione harrumphed, and turned back to McGonagall, who was still reading. Harry raised his eyebrows in amazement at Ron, who shrugged.

'Y'know,' said Fred, leaning closer so that he could whisper without being overheard, 'Dobby's adoration reminds me of someone else.'

George looked confused for a moment, but then his eyes lit up. 'Indeed it does, brother mine,' he said, a grin slowly forming on his face.

'Not the best idea, you two,' said Lee Jordan, who was sitting next to Fred. The twins looked over to Lee pointing at Ginny, sporting a famous Weasley stare on her face.

Fred changed tack at top speed. 'I meant young Colin Creevey of course!'

'Oh – yeah, yeah of course,' echoed George, picking up almost immediately.

Ginny leaned in and patted both of them on the top of their heads. 'Good answer,' she said sweetly, and the twins let out identical, yet inaudible, sighs of relief.

'But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the over door later…Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts.'

All around the Hall, people looked shocked. Harry Potter not return to Hogwarts? A house-elf trying to stop him from returning? Was that even possible?

That last question was vocalized by Neville in a whisper to Harry. 'He can't do that, can he?'

'He almost succeeded,' said Harry grimly, remembering how that night had turned out.

Near the staff table, a voice of objection emerged from the group of Ministry of Magic employees: Percy Weasley, who had been shifted to work at the DMLE under Madam Bones' supervision after Fudge's arrest. 'House-elves can't do such things!' he said, in outraged tones.

'You'd be very surprised as to what house-elves can or cannot do, Mr Weasley,' said Vector.

'To be fair, Septima,' said Aurora Sinistra, the Astronomy professor, 'the elf hasn't suggested that he would stop Potter from going to Hogwarts. He's just warned him not to do so.'

Percy looked slightly abashed at his outburst.

'"Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."'

'Sounds like what Dumbledore tried doing with me last summer,' muttered Harry. Ron and Hermione winced, reminded of Harry's anger at not being offered any shred of information while being locked up in Privet Drive for weeks on end. Neville looked confused, but chose not to comment.

'You've always been in mortal danger in Hogwarts though, haven't you, Harry?' said Fred cheerfully.

'There was Quirrell in his first year,' said George, counting off on his fingers.

'Then the Chamber, with the Basilisk,' continued Fred.

'Then Sirius Black and the Dementors.'

'Then the Tournament last year.'

'Nothing in fifth year yet, though.'

'The Dementor attack might count,' mused Fred thoughtfully.

'Nah, that wasn't at Hogwarts.'

'Shut it, you two,' said Ginny.

'"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year." You know, Albus, if only we had known that he knew…'

'I doubt that would have made any difference, Minerva,' said Dumbledore. 'The writing on the wall on Halloween was quite clear.'

'Fair point,' conceded McGonagall, and she continued with reading about Dobby's attempts at dropping a hint to Harry, but which were ultimately fruitless.

'"See what it's like here?" he said. "See why I've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place I've got — well, I think I've got friends."

"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" Wait, does that mean he was the one interfering with Potter's post? How was he able to do that, I wonder?' wondered said McGonagall.

Down at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was pondering on the same thing. How had his own house-elf been able to stop letters reaching Harry Potter, of all people, even while doing his work at Malfoy Manor? Judging by the description in the narration, Potter had received a bunch of letters from Weasley and Granger, and even some from that great oaf, Hagrid. A Re-directional Charm, perhaps? But to what end?

'"Harry Potter mustn't be angry…Dobby hoped…if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him…Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir…"'

So that's why, thought Malfoy. He sighed. If only Dobby had succeeded, Hogwarts would have had a nice, Potter-free year…

The Hall listened, enraptured, as Harry pursued Dobby down to the kitchen, only to end up covered from head to toe in his Aunt's pudding – the mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. It did come as a surprise, however, when the warning from the Ministry came for Harry.

'Well, that's not right,' observed Madam Bones, adjusting her monocle and frowning. 'Mafalda should have determined the magical signature as that of a house-elf, and not a wizard.'

'Unless Dobby was able to disguise his signature as that of Mr Potter's,' said Flitwick.

'Is that even possible?' asked Babbling.

'It is, indeed,' said Flitwick. 'And it seems the most likely explanation for why Mr Potter was served with a warning from the Ministry.'

'It's illegal, though!' said Percy, who seemed to have recovered from his earlier embarrassment. 'House-elves are forbidden from mimicking magical signatures of witches and wizards. That elf should be arrested immediately –'

'Mr Weasley, unless you have something fruitful to contribute to this conversation, please do keep your mouth shut,' said Snape smoothly.

Percy's mouth snapped shut immediately, his face turning red once more.

At the Gryffindor table, Neville was expressing his astonishment at the arrival of the warning. 'You got a warning for something you didn't even do?'

'Yeah,' said Harry with a shrug. 'Apparently, I'm the only wizard in the area for miles around, and the Ministry constantly monitor the place for magical activity, given the circumstances.'

'Means they didn't want anything to happen to the precious 'Boy-Who-Lived',' said Fred sarcastically.

'Except for this year,' said George.

The group chuckled at that, but the banter got Harry thinking. Up till Harry's dramatic return to Hogwarts last June with news about Voldemort's return, the Ministry had been quite friendly and nice towards him. They had even allowed him to get away with blowing up his Aunt Marge in the summer before third year – although that was pushed off as wanting to keep him safe from Sirius Black. But after Fudge had walked out of the hospital wing that night, the Ministry had done everything possible to keep him quiet and discredit his words.

Was it not possible that they had sent those Dementors to Little Whinging, to catch him out again for doing magic? Or to even have his soul sucked out? They certainly didn't care for him or his well-being right now – the scars on his right hand, courtesy Umbridge, were proof of that.

With a jolt, Harry realised that it was Umbridge had been the one to interpret Dumbledore's assertion during his trial last summer that someone in the Ministry had ordered the attack on him. And, with another horrible jolt, he recalled that no one had refuted that allegation. The trial had moved on to whether the Dementors were outside Ministry control or not.

He had no time to discuss this theory with Hermione or Ron, though; startled gasps from around the Hall brought him back to the reading. It seemed McGonagall had been describing Harry's living arrangements after the pudding fiasco.

'Bars on his window! No proper food, locked up for the entire day!' said McGonagall angrily, and Harry couldn't help the affection for his Headmistress and former Head of House that gushed up inside of him.

She wasn't the only one: most of the staff and the students – barring a select few in Slytherin – looked quite horrified at the way Harry was being treated. The first book had provided them a glimpse of his childhood and upbringing under the rather questionable care of the Dursleys, but this was really toeing crossing the line.

Even the Ministry guests were shocked. Madam Bones had a deep frown on her face, so much that her monocle was in danger of falling right off. She was, from what Harry could hear over the whispers and chatter of his fellow students, asking the Auror next to her to take notes on the Dursleys' actions. He caught words like 'abuse', 'mistreatment', and 'starvation': clearly, it was to add to the arrest warrant issued for his family.

His eyes roved over the staff members, coming to rest on the new Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry had half-expected Snape to be impassive over all this, while secretly cheering the Dursleys inside; so it was a quite a shock to see the former Potions Master look – perturbed?

Snape was indeed disturbed: the description of Potter being locked up and fed minimal amounts of food was eerily and horribly familiar. His own abuse at the hands of his parents father had been less severe, but it had affected him badly enough. How he had not noticed the same signs in Potter, he would never know.

Actually, he did know, but he had desperately tried to ignore it; instead, he had imagined Potter to be a replica of his father – arrogant, cocky, and strutting about without a care for rules or anybody else. Now, however, it was quite evident that Potter was more like his mother than anyone else.

And for the millionth time, Snape offered a silent apology to Lily Potter.

'Supposing he was still alive in another four weeks, what would happen if he didn't turn up at Hogwarts? Would someone be sent to see why he hadn't come back? Would they be able to make the Dursleys let him go?'

'I'm assuming you would have, Dumbledore?' asked Madam Bones, a shrewd expression on her face.

'Naturally,' said Dumbledore, accepting that the suspicion was warranted, especially after the events of Harry's first year. 'Unless there are strong reasons for doing so, no parent or guardian can restrict their child or ward from returning to Hogwarts.'

'He opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And someone was goggling through the bars at him: a freckle-faced, red-haired, long-nosed someone.

Ron Weasley was outside Harry's window.'

'What?'

'This author loves keeping people in suspense, doesn't he?' asked Tonks.

'I think it's a female author, Nympha –'

'Don't call me that!'

'– dora,' finished Kingsley in his deep voice. 'The copyright page gives her name as Joanne Rowling. Fudge got me to investigate her.'

'Anything of note?'

'Not much, to be honest. She lives in Edinburgh. Divorced, mother of one, taking teaching courses and living off Muggle government benefits. No one important as far as I can tell.'

'Never mind that, Tonks, Kingsley,' interrupted Sprout. 'What on earth was Mr Weasley doing outside Mr Potter's window in the dead of the night?'

'I think the more appropriate question over here, Pomona, is how,' said Snape. 'It was an upstairs window, was it not?'

'For that, we'll need to read the next chapter,' said McGonagall, closing the book and handing it to Snape. 'You're next, Severus.'

Snape glowered at the Headmistress, but took the book anyway, opened it to chapter three, and began to read.