Chapter Nine

Harry didn't know why he went into the back of the library rather than to his dorm. It was probably because he didn't want to explain himself to Neville or Ron or the others. All he knew was that he definitely wanted to rescind his request to head home for Christmas and just stay here in hiding until after his father had calmed down from finding out, through the grapevine rather than his son, that his oldest was a parselmouth.

Harry had never connected his interest in snakes with being a parselmouth. There were a few snakes in the forest around their house, but he never ran into any, and he'd most certainly never heard them speak. However, it appeared that that interest was more than he'd expected, and he was a parselmouth. Harry furiously slammed his fists into the table and laid his head on his arms. He didn't want this. There were going to be so many rumours around the school, so much talk and bustle and they were going to stare at him. He didn't need all this, on top of all the attacks –

Harry froze and said something vile enough his mother would have cursed him silent. Serpent-tongue. Slytherin. Harry was going to be labelled immediately as the one behind the attacks and he couldn't very well argue. Harry swore a few more times and then simply lay there, chasing his thoughts furiously in circles and getting nowhere.

It was several minutes later before Harry heard someone place a book on the table before him. Harry looked up with a glare and found himself staring at Alan Prince.

"Why are you here?" Harry snapped.

"I believe I found my way down here before you ever did, so I'd thank you to not act like you own the place." Prince returned. He sounded completely normal, and looked down at Harry with a raised eyebrow. Harry only barely realised he'd been crying and quickly looked away, wiping his face on his sleeve and forcing himself back into composure. Once he felt more steady, he looked sidelong at Prince and snapped,

"You're not going to start thinking I'm the heir of Slytherin or something are you?"

Harry couldn't be sure, but it almost looked like Prince flinched before he relaxed once more. "Why would I believe something so hare-brained as that? You're only a parselmouth." Harry looked down and missed the soft look Prince shot his way before he continued speaking. He did, however, hear the soften tone in his voice. "I'd heard parseltongue was a gift that, although it normally follows a line, can sometimes show up by chance in another."

Harry looked at him, irritated and snapped. "I've never heard that one. Who told you that?"

Harry saw the hesitation on Prince's face this time, and then he jumped as instead of speaking, Prince hissed and Harry clearly understood him. "My uncle, when I found out I had the talent myself."

Harry had never been more shocked in his life. He stared blankly at Prince, knowing he was staring, knowing he looked absolutely gobsmacked and not caring in the least. "You're a parselmouth too?" Harry heard the hissing as he spoke, and clapped his hand over his mouth.

Prince sighed and nodded, shaking his head slightly, and looking down at his book. "Yes." He answered normally. "I was just as shocked as you when I found out …" He trailed off, clearly considering and discarding a thought. "Obviously, it's not something I bring up often. Even among Slytherins it wouldn't be wise."

"No …" Harry whispered. He closed his eyes slowly and fell silent. Prince watched him a moment longer before returning to his book, and Harry finally stood and looked around the books there. They had many, on various topics, and as Harry browsed them over, Prince piped up.

"Just to your left, and down a shelf should be a book on parselmouths. It's … biased, but otherwise accurate. Titled 'Serpent-Tongue'."

Harry found the book and pulled it back to the table. He opened it, and began to read.

IIII

"Harry, where on earth were you?"

Harry entered the common room several hours later, and was immediately faced with a panicked Neville. Glowering at the tone, Harry walked past him and went up to the dormitory, Neville trailing worriedly behind and Ron and Hermione quickly picking up their things to follow.

Harry flopped down immediately onto his bed and Neville sat on his own just opposite him, worrying his lip between his teeth and watching him carefully. Harry didn't answer yet, but when Neville heard Ron coming up, he stood and stepped outside the door. Harry could hear him from where he lay.

"Ron, please just got back downstairs for a moment. I want to talk to Harry alone."

"Neville, I'm not going to let him think I –I believe all that crap they're throwing around now! They all think he's the heir of Slytherin or something, and I don't want him to think that."

"He won't, Ron, not of you or Hermione, since he can likely hear you quite clearly from where he is. But Ron, I need to talk to him brother-to-brother, okay? Please? You can come in in a few minutes, just leave us alone for right now."

Neville stepped back through the door and shut and locked it behind himself, spelling it shut in turn against Hermione's 'alohomora'. Neville turned around, and Harry gave a lopsided smile from where he lay. The bed shifted as Neville sat on the end, and Harry sighed, sitting up and fishing the book out of his bag to toss Neville's direction.

"What's this?"

"Look on page 38, beginning of third paragraph."

Neville flipped it open, glanced at Harry, and muttered the lines to himself.

"The ability parseltongue is, however, unusable in the absence of a snake, or, upon rare occasion, the presence of a fellow parselmouth." Neville glanced up at him in surprise, and back down at the page. "The …"

"That's all." Harry interrupted.

"Where'd you find this book, Harry?" Neville looked it over. "Is it all about parseltongue?"

"Yeah," Harry returned. "It was in the library, somewhere near the back. It's got a lot of information and little of use. Just talking about what you can do with it, and a bit of speculation. Like parseltongue spells, or the language, or other affinities."

"Think you'll be a snake if you're an animagus because of it?" Neville asked.

"No clue. Only thing it says is that transfigured snakes are also understandable. So, if it's serpentine, I can understand it."

Neville fell silent, flipping through the book for a time, but he shortly shut it and lay it down on the bed. "You going to stay here for Christmas?"

"You think I'd go home? I'll give him till summer to calm down."

Neville paused, and remained silent for several moments. "Nanna's going to throw a tantrum that you're not returning. Your mom will likely send a howler for you not coming."

Harry pulled his knees to his chest and murmured into his legs, "Better than facing my dad after this. He's going to be so angry."

Neville finally had it, and slapped Harry's shoulder. "Why are you freaking out so much anyways? You don't know what he's going to say! It's says in that bloody book that it sometimes happens randomly! It doesn't make you evil, or dark, or a Slytherin just because you can talk to snakes!"

Harry growled and spat, "It's a dark gift, what does that tell you?"

Neville glared once more, his arms twitching before he ground out, "You're such a thick-headed spoiled brat. I'm not talking to you until you get your head out of your bloody arse."

Harry watched him storm out of the room, and wrenched his curtains shut before Ron could come inside. He didn't want to talk to anybody. Nobody understood. Nobody.

IIII

Harry avoided breakfast that morning, and only came out of his room because of lessons. When he heard that Herbology was cancelled, he retreated back into the dorm and remained there. Neville had, upon his arrival, chosen the other side of the room to remain on, not even acknowledging his presence. Neither hadn't said one word to anyone since the night before, not even to Ron or Hermione, both of whom were very confused at the sudden animosity between the two normally good friends. The last Harry saw of Neville, he was stalking angrily out the portrait hole, purposefully not looking his way. It left Harry feeling dreadfully empty aside from his furious mood.

However, remaining in his dorm was very stifling, and Harry finally rolled out and stalked down the stairs, his bag and transfiguration work slung over his shoulder. He crossed the common room and tried to ignore the sudden silence that spread from his appearance. He was out the portrait hole when he heard Ron shout at him to wait. Not wanting to talk, Harry broke into a run for the Transfiguration classroom. He wanted to talk to McGonagall about staying at the school over Christmas, not any of his classmates.

Upon his arrival at the hallway outside the Transfiguration classroom, Harry stopped dead. Lying in the hall before him was Justin Finch-Fletchey, and a black and smoky looking ghost. The scene seemed etched in livid detail before him, from Nick's half-decapitated head, to the spiders scurrying from the scene. Harry jumped as badly as the rest of the school when Peeves behind him started screaming.

"Attack, attack! Another attack! No mortal or ghost is safe! Run for your lives! Attaack!"

Harry swore explosively, and would have run had the doors around him not slammed open immediately in response to the yelling. Everyone crowded out into the corridor, and chaos reigned, much to Peeves' enjoyment. Finally, McGonagall shot several loud bangs off from her wand and the students cleared out of her way. Peeves, foiled by the reestablishment of order, began to sing,

"Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done,

You're killing off students, you think it's good fun-"

"That's enough, Peeves." McGonagall snapped. Peeves left, sticking his tongue out, and McGonagall turned her sharp glare to Harry's sullen form.

Getting the two victims out of the way was quickly delegated out and dealt with, Harry waiting silently by the wall, trying to control his fear. Finally, McGonagall addressed him once more.

"This way, Potter."

Harry silently followed in her wake. He felt like someone had poured lead into his shoes, but he made himself follow her all the way to a large stone gargoyle and past it onto a set of rising stairs. He knew where he was going. He'd seen it a few times, when his parents were called in to talk with Dumbledore: the Headmaster's office. His belly clenched painfully as he desperately hoped his parents wouldn't be brought in. He couldn't face them, not then. Not right then. Still, Harry followed and stood quietly in the office as McGonagall left him there. The instruments whirred and puffed, and Harry found himself keeping company with Fawkes, who was looking very ready for his next burning day. Quietly, Harry gave the bird a short nod before he glanced back down at his feet, trying not to think of the inevitable: his parents arriving.

A squawk from Fawkes was all the warning Harry had before he burst into flames. Harry jumped and stared as he turned into a fireball and became ash, and he was still staring when Dumbledore came in.

"Ah, I see he's come around now."

Harry nodded dully, glanced up at the Headmaster and looked away once more. Calmly the headmaster regarded him before sighing and rubbing his nose.

"I do not believe you are the one opening the Chamber, Harry. And I can reassure you that if there is the blood of Slytherin in you, it is so utterly weak there is no way to trace it, and it should have no power over you. Your parseltongue is a gift of random chance, and is nothing to be ashamed of."

Harry remained silent, refusing to let Dumbledore see that his words meant anything. The man was doing his 'omniscient' act again, covering his worries without them being voiced. It was thoughtful, but he was in too foul a mood to appreciate it.

"Technically, I should be contacting your parents, but since I do not believe anything drastically important has happened yet, I shall refrain. Your friend, Neville," Harry didn't miss the emphasis, "Informed me you would like to remain at the castle over Christmas break this year." Harry looked firmly up at him. However, he refused to meet his eyes. "Your little sister will be most disappointed if you do not return home, you know."

"With all due respect sir, I don't care right now. I'd like some time to myself to settle … this." Harry made a disgusted gesture at the general area, and Dumbledore smiled comfortingly once more.

"I believe it can be arranged. Be sure to inform your parents by owl of your change of plans."

Harry nodded shortly, and left.

IIII

The school was in a panic over the double attack of Nick and Justin. Several people were avoiding Harry like the plague now. The saving grace of it was Fred and George. Upon hearing of the preposterous rumours, they decided to play with them, preceding Harry through the corridors with pompous expressions, announcing,

"Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil second year coming through."

The best part was when they informed Percy he needed to be going along to the Chamber of Secrets to enjoy tea and crumpets with his fanged servant. Going with his basilisk idea, Harry had to wonder how it managed to drink from the cup, much less lift the thing.

The biggest surprise for Harry that week was when Ron called out to Neville and clapped hands with him, thanking him for staying at the school. Harry finally broke the silence between him and Neville, which had now lasted several days.

"I thought you were going home."

Neville looked at him sidelong and then returned to his schoolwork. "The deal I made was that if you stayed, I stayed. I'm not leaving you here alone, with only Slytherins and the Chessman for company." Hermione shot him a glare and Neville added, "You're already good company, 'Mione. I don't have to worry about him hanging out with you."

Harry was then treated to the interesting sight of Ron staring with worry between Neville and Hermione. Harry bit his lip softly to keep from laughing. Apparently Ginny wasn't the only Weasley with a crush.

When the holidays came, and it was only he, Neville, Hermione and the Weasleys in the tower, Harry had difficulty enjoying the silence. He'd sent his letter to his parents, informing them of his decision to remain at the school, but a reply had not yet come. Harry feared it would be arriving shortly, and, as he'd feared, it came the first morning of Winter break. The family's large barn owl, Stag, dropped a vivid red letter on Harry's plate and Ron stopped asking why Harry didn't have an appetite. Once opened, James' voice rang across the hall.

"Harry James Potter, I would make it known I'm very disappointed in you. You're not owning up to what's happening in your own life and you're now hiding out at school as though ashamed of yourself. You should know very well there is nothing that will get between our family, so stop being an utter fool! I'm letting it go this time, but don't try this again."

Harry swallowed hard and ran from the room in tears. Neville glared at the remaining parchment and sighed, turning back to his own meal. Meanwhile, Harry was running up the stairs and making his way out to the top of the Astronomy tower. He always liked heights, and being up in the open air made his head feel several times clearer. Not five minutes later, Hedwig found him bearing a letter from his mother. Dreading what might be within, Harry opened it with shaking fingers.

Dear Harry,

I will kindly inform you that your father is now nursing a headache from the chewing out he recently received. I will also make it known I am disappointed in your choice to remain at school as well, but that I will respect it. But please remember, Harry: we are your family, and won't leave you alone for any reason. It was startling, to say the least, to hear you were a parselmouth. Your father was most certainly shocked, and, I'll admit, angry at the turn of events. He has calmed down now.

Harry sniffed and smiled weakly. When his dad was angry and shocked, it was usually several times worse. However, when his mother ended that with 'he's calmed down now' it usually meant she pulled him back down rather forcefully.

Your godfather is also calm now. You know yourself the reputation surrounding parselmouths, and it is something to try and move past. However, clearly, you are no different than you were before. It was always there, Harry, and it always will be. You are not what you are; you are who you are. Remember that, and act accordingly.

Nanna is most upset at not being able to see her older brother, but I have explained that you had reasons to remain, and will be sure to send along her present. I do hope you bought them, yes? We wouldn't want you to think this is an excuse to get out of it. (I tease, child) Your presents will be sent in time to arrive, and I hope you enjoy them. Please think of us while your away, and be sure to come visit next break, alright?

Much love,

Your mother, Lily

Harry rubbed his eyes clear, and tucked the letter into his pocket. He knew his family would react like that. His dad would freak out, and his godfather, and then his mother would calm down and bring the others with her. It still didn't make it much easier to take, though, especially when his dad sent him a howler. Likely that had been his second one, the first remaining unsent. Harry didn't want to think of that, though, and so he left the Astronomy tower and found his way into the library. In the far back corner that was his and Prince's, Harry found Prince already ensconced there. He gave him a weak smile.

"Do you ever do anything else?"

Prince looked up at him, and smiled wryly. "On occasion. I fly, I brew potions, do homework, talk to Blaise, talk to Snape … but I like reading. You alright?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm fine. My dad's just a little …"

"Light. He's very light, and parseltongue is dark. You knew he'd react like that."

"He always does." Harry glared at the table, and pouted.

"He came around though, yes? You are his son."

"He came 'round," Harry admitted, "but he bloody well shouldn't have had to 'come around', I'm his goddamned son. Would he think I became a parselmouth and half-Slytherin just to spite him? I am who I bloody am." Harry snarled.

Prince watched, and then merely shrugged. "But you value his opinion, and you fear losing it."

Harry paled and stared at him. "How … Why …"

"You learn to spot these things in time, Potter." Prince drawled. He looked up and shot him a wry grin. "It's part of being Slytherin."

Harry felt a similar rebellion to what had drove him off before rise, but he suppressed it and fixed Prince with a firm stare. "Teach me." Harry asked.

Prince put down his book and frowned at him. "What?"

"Teach me. To read emotions; to control my own. If you're so bloody smart, you can do that, right?" Harry watched Prince scowl some and pulled back. "Please?"

Prince blinked, and then looked at him cockeyed. "And what do I get?"

"What do you want?" Harry returned.

"What can you give?" Prince met.

Harry stopped and stared. This was a Slytherin he was working with. They never did anything for no reason, and Prince was clearly no different. But what could he, himself offer? He didn't have much, and what would a kid want from another kid. No, what would a Slytherin want from a Gryffindor …

"Information. Anything I can look up."

Prince sneered. "I'm not cheating on tests."

"And I'm not talking academics." Harry returned.

Prince looked impressed. "Good to know. It's a deal." He extended his hand across the table and smiled. It looked predatory, but Harry only paused a moment before he took it, a smile of his own on his face. Two could play that game. It takes one predator to meet another, and he was certain he was up to the challenge.

IIII

Christmas came, as it was wont. Harry woke that morning feeling a prick of sadness at not being home, but he brushed it off. He'd already sent his presents to his family, and a short apology, and he smiled brightly when he saw the pile gathered at the end of his bed. Ron wasn't awake yet, but Harry opened his gifts anyways. Hermione had gotten him a luxury, eagle-feather quill, Ron a book on Chess, Mrs. Weasley had sent what he thought was her usual gift: a knitted sweater, and food, and Hagrid had given him a tin of treacle fudge that got a spot right by the fire to soften. Neville had given him new boots; Remus had bought him a large box of chocolate, Sirius a wand holster for his forearm, and Frank and Alice had together bought him a book on magical snakes. Harry felt his face heat at that, and he quickly put it aside before pulling over his present from his parents. It was a large, soft package, with a letter taped to the top in his dad's handwriting. Harry pulled it open first.

Dear Harry,

I'm sorry about the howler, but it was very frustrating to have you avoid coming home like you did. I'm not that angry, son. It was shocking more than anything to have you be a parselmouth. I never expected it, and, yes, it was slightly frightening. The talent is not well-known, but you are still my son. I don't expect you'll start acting like a Dark wizard just because you have a talent with that history.

I hope you'll appreciate what your mother and I got you. The robe is going to be a little big for you, but I doubt you'll need to wear it to any sort of gathering in the near future, as twelve is not the age for social functions. However, once you're older it should be a good fit and I hope you will appreciate it. The pendant, however, is directly from me. I hope you like it.

Love,

Your father, James

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and tore into the gift. It was indeed a robe, but Harry could only stare as he lifted it up, catching the small pendant that fell off the top. Harry set the necklace aside in order to appreciate the robes first. They were indeed much larger than he needed them, but he expected that he'd be able to wear them soon enough. The robes appeared as basic black, but along the outer edges was a dark brown trim, and across the back were dark brown stripes. Harry felt his mouth twitch with amusement. The pattern made him think of an adder's stripes. Around the collar, however, was tiny, nigh invisible green embroidery. Harry could just hear the argument his mother must have made.

'The colour will bring out his eyes. Stop being so against Slytherin!'

Harry's smile faltered, and he gently folded his new robes to place on his bed. He picked up the pendant, and froze. Dangling from the end of a long, gold, rope-like chain was a pewter serpent with gold bands across it's back. Small emeralds glinted in its eyes, as it stared out from a complicated coil. It was large for a pendent, but Harry found himself entranced by the beauty, and what it meant to him. His father had gotten him this. His Slytherin-hating father had gotten his son a serpent pendant. Harry gently rubbed his eyes and swallowed before he slid the long necklace over his head and gently cleaned up the paper he'd strewn about. As he did so, he found a small parcel he'd overlooked, with his name scrawled across a small tag. A smile tugged Harry's mouth up. He'd forgotten Nanna's present.

Harry sat back down and pulled it open, hoping she'd like his gift of a small box of sugarquills and one of the photos Colin had taken of Harry and his friends in the common room when they weren't paying attention, one of few Harry actually liked. The package revealed a short note, "Don't you stay at Hogwarts again without me, Harry! I'm forgiving you this time. Nanna Potter", and a Christmas coloured scarf of alternating red and green. Harry laughed once more. His worry was blessedly gone. His dad had accepted it, Nanna was still antsy, and he still had a home.

Ron blearily sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What'choo laughing at, Harry?"

"Nothing Ron." Harry finished. "But you still have a pile of presents to dig through, though."

Ron was out of bed in moments, completely distracted. Harry smiled faintly. He wasn't too surprised Ron was one to get completely into his present opening. He only hoped Ron appreciated the thought that went into Harry getting him the book on Potions theory. When he heard Ron yelp his name, Harry laughed.

IIII

Christmas break ended with Harry in a far better mood than he'd been in when it began. Having spent the holiday in Gryffindor tower with the Weasley twins, Neville, and Ron, the holiday had most certainly been eventful in short spurts. Best thing of it in Harry's mind was that Lockhart had been out the whole holiday and he'd been spared the man's ego. While he'd let up some on trying to get Harry to be chummy with him, he certainly hadn't stopped, and the library seemed the only place to deter him. Prince had offered that it might have been because he was afraid of knowledge. The logic seemed almost reasonable, considering.

It was the general reaction to Harry's pendent that was most interesting, however. Hermione had been the first to notice it, and she naturally asked to see it and whom it was from. Harry refused to take it off, and didn't answer her on who gave it. He gave Neville a pointed look, though, and the other boy smiled brightly, and told Hermione that it meant a lot to Harry. This, of course, put her in a pout for a few minutes, until Neville asked her what she thought of the Encyclopaedia of spells he and Harry had given her. Hermione bubbled over in happiness.

The second person to notice was Prince, who glanced it at, and asked about it very idly. Harry had, strangely enough, told him flat out it was from his father and Prince gave him a second, longer look before nodding shortly. Somehow Harry knew he'd understand. Nothing more was said on the matter, other than that it was very nice.

IIII

The bustle of students refilled the hallways as the Hogwarts Express brought everyone back. Students were slightly calmer since there hadn't been another attack, and the whole matter seemed almost swept under the rug in the meantime. Lockhart went back to his old tricks, Hermione shot him down, Snape was still unpleasant to Harry, and at one point Harry spotted Prince slipping something into Lockhart's handbag. Shortly thereafter, when Lockhart reached inside, he screamed like a girl and dropped the bag. Out of it slid an adder, hissing irritably, and Harry had to bite his lip as he heard the sort of language it was using. It was shortly thereafter that Harry noticed Lockhart had begun to turn colours. Harry had made sure no one saw him leave the scene, and he found his way to the library to congratulate Prince. The boy waved it off, and Harry finally asked what he'd done to make Lockhart turn colours. He finally gave him.

"Fed it a potion. So, Lockhart's poisoned normally, and he's going to remain colourful. Anyone try and blame you?"

Harry shrugged. "Left too soon. And besides, everyone knows I can't brew potions worth beans, supposedly."

Prince gave him a long look. "You haven't yet made a potion properly in class, you know. Except maybe at the end of last year."

"Not a lot of kids can do something right if they're being glared at every moment they're working, Prince." Harry snarled. "I can brew fine at home."

Prince's mouth twitched. "So you're saying you could've done the same thing I did? Made Lockhart get on the bad side of an adder with a colour potion on it's teeth?"

"Could've." Harry allowed. "But you were the one who did it. I saw you put the snake in his purse."

Prince looked up at Harry in surprise, and then smiled cautiously. "No self-respecting man should have a purse anyways."

Harry smiled and sat down, pulling over one of the charms books Prince had near him and began to read.

IIII

A few days later, Ron ran into the dorm and yelled for Harry and Neville. Both of them came running, worried something had happened to their friend. Instead, they found him holding Ginny's arm and looking at her in concern. Harry walked over cautiously. Ginny had not gotten over her crush from the beginning of the year, and she had been very quiet the entire time. She was behaving drastically different than normal, and apparently Ron was growing concerned. He looked over at Harry and Neville with a worried expression. Several others watched curiously.

"Harry, Neville, I think we should take Ginny to Madam Pomfrey." He beckoned them closer, and Ginny tried to pull away. Ron held on, and then pulled a diary out of his pocket. "She said something about this diary talking at her. I don't know what it could've done, but it's worrying me. Maybe it enchanted her, or something. I don't know how it works, and she's not telling me."

"Ron," Neville began. "You could've handled this better." Neville quickly broke Ron's grip on Ginny, and then slipped his arm over her shoulder and nodded to Harry. Harry grabbed the diary and slipped out the portrait hole after Neville, Ron trailing behind. Neville led them to an empty classroom and then looked at Ginny once more. Harry stood behind him, Ron behind him, and waited.

"Ginny, what's this about the diary?"

Ginny bit her lip and looked frantically between them in concern. "I – I found it among my things after we went to Diagon Alley earlier this year, and –and I thought mum had gotten it for me. I wrote in it, and – and …" Ginny's eyes looked faintly glassy, and she started to cry. "I can't remember! I can't remember what happened. I know I've written in it, but there isn't anything there anymore! I don't want to see it anymore, I'm scared!"

Neville looked at Harry with a stricken expression, and Harry quickly thumbed through the pages. All of them were blank. He tilted it and showed it to Neville, who looked just as confused.

"Ginny, you're sure you wrote in this? Ron said you said it wrote back …"

"I don't remember!" Ginny wailed. "Please, please! I think something terrible is going on with it, but I don't know!"

"We should really take this to McGonagall …" Harry muttered. Ginny whipped around to look at him and grabbed his arm.

"Don't take this to a teacher! Please don't! I don't want to get in trouble!"

Harry blinked, and then closed his mouth slowly. "Ginny, if this is enchanted we should have them look at it, and you. It might've affected you funny."

"Please don't bring the teachers into it! I'm not going to write in it again, I swear! Just don't … Please, Harry, please." Ginny fell to the ground and started to cry at Harry's feet. Harry looked between Neville and Ron, meeting their equally bewildered stares before he settled and dropped to his knees.

"Ginny, I won't mention the diary, alright?" Ginny eyed him warily, and Harry raised his hands. "I promise, I won't. But will you please go to Pomfrey and have her look you over? Just to make sure you're okay. You don't have to say anything; just have Ron drag you up there like the overprotective brother he is and let her look you over and maybe get a calming draught. Will you do that?"

Ginny nodded weakly, and she stood, eyeing the diary like it was a viper. Harry watched her look and tucked it against his side. "I'll keep this myself. You won't have to see it. Do you want me to burn it or something?"

Ginny shrugged, but she'd tensed once more, and Harry nodded to Ron. Ron led Ginny out with a grateful look to Harry and Neville, and once he was gone, Harry turned to look at the other. Neville's expression was a darkly suspicious as his own.

"She wrote in it, but the writings gone. And she told Ron it was writing back."

"You think it's dangerous?" Harry asked, looking at the diary as though he thought it might bite as well.

Neville bristled and hissed. "I don't know. Don't write in it until you're more sure. Maybe let it sit, or something? You could hand it in and leave Ginny's name out, you know."

Harry eyed the diary in his hand and then sighs. "No, I'll hold onto it for the moment. I'm curious."

Neville eyed him carefully. "I'll bet Ginny was too."


A/N: I have finished the vacation, and was quite happy to return to see so many people attending my story. Thank you, all of you. I will return to the every two weeks for updates, from either Tues or Thurs, not sure which (feel free to express an opinion). In case I don't find a place to make this clear about the story, Harry is not the Boy-Who-Lived. There is no such title in this universe; Voldemort disappeared for no apparent reason from the public eye and the Death Eaters disbanded. The prophecy, however, is valid and has been partially fulfilled as it should be for the story. Hopefully further reading will make this clear.

Fire & Napalm