Harry allowed Fawkes to take them back to the castle. His grip never wavering on Ginny.
They appeared in the Headmaster's office and with enough time to realize he was safe, Harry succumb to the comfort of oblivion.
For two days he laid unconscious in the Hospital Wing as the school scrambled to cope with the devastating news. The teachers were preparing to send everyone home early, the petrified students having been awaken the day before.
For two days, Dumbledore stopped by to observe the boy he had failed.
For two days, Dumbledore wondered about the mark on Harry's neck.
For two days, Dumbledore feared Voldemort was once again amongst them.
For two day, Dumbledore wept for the loss of Ginny Weasley.
After two days, the boy with the mark on his face awoke. It wasn't one of those instant wake-ups where everything came rushing back to him. This one he struggled to come out of. His eyes refused to open, weighed down by what felt like all the tears he had yet to cry, his neck hurt to even turn his head, and his mind kept whispering to go back to sleep. But a stronger, more familiar voice was calling at him to wake up. The voice sounded terrified and hoarse, like it had been crying. But why would someone cry over him?
Merlin, he wanted that voice to go away! He just wanted to sleep!
Another voice joined the sob-er, this one much deeper. He knew this voice and he knew he had to follow his orders, he was his Captain after all.
His eyes fluttered open, immediately closing at the bright light, flinching back into his pillow.
"Com'on Harry, wake up!"
That voice again…it was Derrick!
He was able to crack his eyes open to make out the familiar form of his captain, "Der," his voice cracked, his throat like sandpaper.
"Go get Madam Pomphrey." Derrick demanded of the other voice…Hermione, his mind finally supplied as he heard her feet scramble away to follow his orders. "You idiot, merlin, I thought I'd lost you."
Harry cracked a smile; it wasn't often he got Derrick worried.
"Everyone's been worried. Emily and Nate almost stormed the Headmaster's office to get information about you. I think it was Terry who delivered them, but they're from everyone in your dorm," he pointed to the side table which was overflowing with sweets and cards. Harry tried to turn his head but splitting pain erupted from his neck when he tried. His hand shot up as his leg muscles contracted. "Harry!? What's wrong?"
The covers fell off the bed in the twisting of limbs. It wasn't just his neck that hurt, his whole body felt like he had run a marathon.
Derrick was rudely shoved out of the way by a fretful Madam Pomphrey who was quick to force two separate potions down his friend's mouth.
Before Derrick could complain about her rough treatment, the Hospital Wing doors were banged open as a precession of people entered. Derrick grabbed Hermione as they moved out of the way. No way, the Minister of Magic was here?! His mouth hung open as he watched the Headmaster, the Minister of Magic, Head Auror Amelia Bones, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick surround the bed of the newly awoken second year.
"He's just woken up, Headmaster! I will not have my patient interrogated while he is unwell!"
Hermione's eyes widened at the healer daring to talk like that to so many important figures.
"My dear Madam Pomphrey, if there was another way but alas, we need to know what happened in the Chamber and Mr. Potter is the only one with these answers." Dumbledore stared at Harry who was beginning to process what the Headmaster had said.
Hands clenching the blanket in his lap, Harry asked without looking up, "Do the Weasley's know?"
His mind supplied him with the reason why he was in the Hospital Wing and what exactly had happened in the Chamber.
"The Weasley's have been informed and their remaining children have been pulled out of school to mourn." Minister Fudge supplied rather unkindly. His whole posture was tense as he took in Harry.
"Harry, we need to know what happened down in the chamber." Dumbledore interjected, cutting the minister off without appearing rude.
"Mr. Potter, my name is Amelia Bones. I am head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I need you to tell me how Ginevra Weasley was killed and who was behind these attacks. The Ministry has launched an investigation and you are our only witness." Madam Bones was a fearsome witch. Harry could see she was powerful in the way she carried herself. This must with the aunt Susan was talking about all those months ago. "I understand this is difficult for you, but we need to ask these questions." She finished with a sympathetic smile.
Harry refused to look at them. He didn't want their sympathy, their pity…he deserved to feel this pain. This bone deep agony that seemed to spread with every beat of his heart, a heart that shouldn't even be beating. Not when he had been poisoned by a basilisk.
"It was Tom," Dumbledore straightened at this, "He was in a diary me and Ginny used and that's why she died. Her life for his. I couldn't stop him, he was too powerful."
Dumbledore looked imploringly at Harry, who looked up at feeling the intense stare, "Tom? Tom Riddle?"
Of course he would know who the boy was right away. Harry nodded in confirmation, "Voldemort before he was Voldemort." Flinches went around when he spoke the Dark Lord's name.
"What nonsense is this Dumbledore!? You-Know-Who is gone!" Fudge exclaimed furiously.
"There was always a doubt, Minister. Voldemort dove further into the darkest of magic in search for immortality."
Harry didn't need Dumbledore to confirm what he already knew about Riddle. He was outmatched in power, skill, intelligence, and resources.
"There was a basilisk. Fawkes blinded it and I was able to kill it with the sword."
McGonagall looked on with pride as the gathered crowd turned their attention to said sword. Only a true Gryffindor could've pulled that from the Sorting Hat.
"I wasn't careful and a fang pierced my arm," Harry looked down at the wound on his arm. He had been mistaken in the chamber. The wound wasn't gone. He had an ugly scar a few centimeters in diameter.
"Ah yes, another extraordinary talent of Fawkes. I imagine his tears neutralized the poison in your body but sadly basilisk venom is riddled with dark magic which always leaves a trace." Dumbledore nodded to the scar, a permanent reminder of his second brush with death.
Bones studied his arm, making a note of it on her notepad. "And You-Know-Who left you to die, not knowing the phoenix could heal you?"
No, that wasn't the way Tom worked. Dumbledore knew the young Dark Lord loved to relish in his victim's suffering. He'd want to be there till the end, gloating of his victory. It was a weakness he never seemed to outgrow.
Harry felt his throat catch, those words coming back to haunt him, "You are mine, Harry Potter."
"You-Know-Who is dead! He was not down there! Clearly the boy is making it up; he's a parselmouth." Fudge bit out the last term like it was a curse word, soiling his mouth.
"You are not seriously implying that Mr. Potter is responsible for this? That he attacked these students and killed-!" McGonagall furiously berated the Minister, unable to believe the audacity of the man to accuse the traumatized boy.
"No Second Year has the power nor ability to do what has been done this year, I trust you know this Minister. I won't have you falsely accusing my student."
Seeing he was outnumbered, Fudge backed down, moving from the front of the group.
"He told me to survive right after he gave me this." Harry gripped the part of his neck he knew the mark was on.
Madam Bones gave it a curious look, "Can I-?" She indicated to his hand.
Harry hesitantly moved his hand away so she could study it. It looked like the Dark Mark but not exactly. You could tell that it was a different version, more unrefined. She scribbled it all down on her report. This was looking more and more troublesome. She didn't want to believe it either but the proof was sitting in front of her.
Only You-Know-Who could give out Dark Marks.
"If that is all Amelia," Dumbledore pulled the attention from Harry, "I would like to speak with young Mr. Potter privately."
Madam Pomphrey moved to argue with Dumbledore, her patient needed rest, not to be interrogated!
"Oh and Professor McGonagall, can you please escort Miss Granger and Mr. Hopkins to the Great Hall?"
Derrick relaxed his hold on Hermione, both having been frozen in place hearing Harry's account of what happened in the chamber.
The Hospital Wing was in stark contrast to what it looked like all year. It was empty of all petrified students, the only resident being Harry. The sun was pouring in through the large glass windows, flooding the room in light. It was one of those rare sunny days Hogwarts saw. Harry knew if he reached out to the sunlight, his skin would soak up the warmth.
But he didn't feel warm and he didn't think he ever would again. The center of his chest felt like an iceberg had settled and refused to move.
"You've accumulated quite the assortment of sweets." Dumbledore's hand roamed through the sweets on his side table. "What you went through down there was a horrifying experience I wish I could've spared you from."
Harry looked to the Headmaster, turning his head just right so the streaming sunlight shone on his new scar, "I'm sorry Headmaster but I think I'd rather sleep right now."
Dumbledore let a small smile of understanding creep across his face, "I understand. But when you're released, I would like to speak to you. I trust you remember my password?"
Harry nodded, watching as the wizard left the infirmary.
It was quiet, almost too quite. The events from the chamber replaying themselves in his mind like a film. They were just as clear as when they'd happened. When he shut his eyes he could even feel the coldness of Ginny's skin when he touched her face. A cold sweat began to take over his body. He had to fight back the tears. He couldn't cry, not here. Sleep wasn't an option anymore. If he was haunted while awake, he knew he'd be haunted by nightmares.
Swinging his legs off the bed, Harry had to fight off a wave of dizziness. Regaining his bearings, he reached for the nearest card. It was from Luna. The funny drawings and get well made a small smile appear. He'd have to thank her before they left.
Before long, he was lost in all the get well messages from the school. There were the ones from his teammates and friends in Ravenclaw but there were also cards from students in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. And for a moment, Harry wasn't haunted by his grief and terror.
An hour passed without him noticing, and soon another before Madam Pomphrey came with another set of potions for him to take. Like Dumbledore had said, she couldn't do anything about the scar from the basilisk but it had punctured part of his humerus so she was giving him Skele-grow, a potion he unfortunately was acquainted with earlier in the year.
She left him with strict instructions to not go overboard on his sweets as they would offset his other potion.
It was before dinner when Harry finally received visitors: the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Harry welcomed them happily. Their concern was evident but they never asked him about what happened; Harry could only conclude that Derrick had spoken with them. Instead, Ryan and Duncan excitedly told him that the professors had decided that the Quidditch match should still go on, wanting the students to have an enjoyable event in light of recent events. Emily happily supplied that they had to keep the difference between 210 points and they would win the Quidditch Cup. If not, Gryffindor would win it. It should be easy considering Harry had yet to miss the Snitch and there was no way Ryan would let in 21 goals.
"So that means you better be ready for next Saturday!" Roger quipped with a light hearted voice.
Everyone avoided the obvious elephant at that information: the Weasley Twins were on the Gryffindor team.
"Remember our agreement Harry. Quidditch Cup for a Quidditch match this summer." Derrick spoke up from his chair on the left side of Harry.
Harry had to think about what his captain was talking about. What did he mean…Ah, their agreement a few months back. He had forgotten about that.
"Hey! We were never promised that!" indignant shouts rang out from their teammates, "Preferential treatment! Stop playing favorites Hopkins!"
Emily gained a funny glint in her eyes as Harry saw her turn to Ryan. He watched in curiosity as she grabbed his attention, "If you play your best out there…I'll give you preferential treatment…and…show you exactly why you're my…fav-o-rite Keeper."
The boys broke out in raucous laughter, Samuels and Duncan falling out of their chairs from how hard they were laughing at Ryan's face which lite up bright red as his eyes widened. You could visibly see him swallow, his adam's apple going up and down. Emily moved away with a victorious, full teeth smile as Ryan coughed and adjusted his legs.
Harry looked on in confusion, not knowing the two were a couple.
"Ryan likes Emily and she likes to take advantage of that sometimes." Derrick leaned over to whisper to Harry, "Secretly, Emily likes him too but she has way too much fun messing with him."
"If they both like each other, why aren't they dating?"
He knew there was chemistry between the two, they were constantly around each other even outside practice. If they liked each other, why didn't they say it?
"You'll understand when you start dating." It was Samuels who answered his question, having picked himself off the floor, laughter still shaking his body.
A kind Davies changed the subject so Ryan could regain his composure. "Did you schedule your tryout with the Pride of Portree yet?" His question was directed at Emily, one of the two seventh years trying out for the professional league.
"Hm? Yeah, it's the first Saturday in July. If it goes well, I'll be put on the reserves to train for the first year."
She had been disappointed when the Harpies hadn't offered her a place on either the reserve team or a tryout but was excited and willing to give her best for the Pride of Portree.
"We'll be cheering you on. Just don't forget about us lowly common people when you become a famous Quidditch star." Emily threw a chocolate frog at Duncan for his lip.
Laughter rang out around the bed and Harry was so thankful for his friends and knew he would miss Derrick, Emily, and Ryan next year. Thinking of Derrick, he had been unusually quiet. Turning to ask why, Harry caught him staring into space, looking lost in thought.
Breaking out of thought when he saw Harry turn to him, Derrick hesitated, unsure if now was the right time to ask but he wasn't sure when Harry would be released or they could talk again.
"Hey, I talked it over with my mum. We're going to France for two weeks after school and my tryout isn't until the middle of August so I was thinking you could stay with us for the rest of the summer. Mum really likes you and that way you don't have to worry about having somewhere to go and hiding your magic."
Harry bit his lip. Any other time he'd have said yes without thinking but now he hesitated. Voldemort was out there and no one would recognize him. He didn't want to bring the Hopkins into his mess.
"We have wards around the house, dad was a ward creator in the Ministry. You'll be safe there." Derrick saw the hesitancy in those green eyes and knew what he was thinking. Honestly, it was easy to read Harry Potter once you knew him and Derrick liked to think he knew his Seeker very well. He was there when Harry explained about You-Know-Who being back and claiming him. All the more reason for Harry not to return to the muggle world where he was unprotected.
"Mrs. Hopkins is literally the best! Me and Nate were over one summer and I don't think I've ever had so much fun. You been to the lake in the back? Enchanted a rope we did; had a bruised back for a week when I hit the water wrong."
"It'll be fun. I can take you to Diagon Alley and we can get you ready for next season. You'll need new gloves and I think a book on healing spells with how you play."
Harry knew he shouldn't but he really wanted to. He wanted to be in his world. He wanted to talk to people who understood him. He wanted to feel safe. Staying at the orphanage for the summer or wherever they placed him wasn't an option.
"Pick me up when you get back?" Harry really hoped he wasn't making a mistake.
They settled into a calm discussion about plans for the summer and the stress of their OWLs and NEWTs which start the following week. Dumbledore had announced the previous night that all other exams would be canceled. That left Derrick, Emily, Ryan, and Duncan to stress and cram for their exams.
The door opening caused a pause in the conversation. The seven students turned to see who had come: it was Hermione. She stood nervously in the doorway, clearly unsure if she should stay or not.
Emily made the first move, getting up to give the two friends time to talk. She gave Harry a hug, the rest following her lead but ruffling his hair or wishing him a good night. Soon it was only Hermione and Harry.
Hermione sat herself in the chair Derrick had vacated only moments before. There was a lot she wanted to say but sitting before him now, she couldn't find the right words. Starting off simple seemed easiest.
"I'm sorry about Ginny. I know she was your best friend."
"She was your friend too." That she was. While she hadn't been as close to the girl as Harry, they had been friends. Waking up from months of being petrified only to be told of Ginny's death had really shaken her foundation and then to find out Harry was been taken and had been unconscious the last day had really broken her. She had cried all day.
"You found out it was a basilisk? How?"
Hermione blushed, she had been asked the same by the professors when they found the torn page in her hand, "It was rather easy once I connected the dots. A voice only you could hear, the roosters, and I saw spiders when Justin and Sir Nicholas were found. A basilisk as old as that would no doubt be very large so the only logically explanation would be it using the pipes to travel undetected."
Harry stared at her in disbelief, "How are you not in Ravenclaw?"
Hermione puffed out, she could be both smart and brave!
"You knew it was a basilisk as well. Professor McGonagall mentioned there was a shattered mirror with you bag."
"Yeah, me and Tom-," Harry cut himself off. He wasn't Tom. "I came to the same conclusion a few weeks after you were petrified."
Hermione grabbed Harry's fidgeting hand, clasping it in her slightly larger one. Strange how she was taller than him. Harry put it down to the Dursley's.
"He won't get away with it. Ginny won't have died in vain." She squeezed Harry's hand a little harder. She could feel his hand trembling in hers. She knew this had to be ten times harder for him.
His voice waived, right on the edge of crying, "She was so cold, Hermione. She was…was always warm and bright. I didn't notice earlier, how didn't I notice?!"
"Ginny was…–." She couldn't finish. How were they expected to be alright? Their friend was murdered only two days ago!
Hermione collapsed onto Harry, pulling him into her arms as he wrapped his arms around her, gut wrenching sobs raking his body as silent tears fell from Hermione's eyes.
/
Harry was released from the Hospital Wing the next morning with strict instructions to come back should he experience any kind of pain or dizziness. The halls were empty, students still in class despite not having exams.
Harry made his way to the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore's instructions clear from yesterday.
It wasn't a long walk but Harry felt something shift. He had always felt safe at Hogwarts, even with the attacks, but his eyes were now open that he wasn't untouchable. It was like realizing that your parents weren't these perfect, indestructible people. They were still your parents but that little childish spark had been diminished. It was the same for Harry; Hogwarts was his home but he didn't look at it like he did last year.
He had grown up and experienced so much this year that he felt he had aged a decade. He had survived two encounters with Voldemort, not many could claim that. Honestly, at this point, Harry would rather die the next time he encountered the Dark Lord because the people he cared about seemed to die in his place every time.
Footsteps echoed off the stone walls, filling the silent corridor. How were they expected to finish the school year when one of their own had been murdered? His question answered from all those weeks ago: he felt dead on the inside…that was how it would feel to lose someone he cared for.
How was Dumbledore ever going to make them feel safe in these castle walls again? Why wasn't Dumbledore there, Harry wanted to scream. He wanted to scream until his voice was raw. He wanted to blame the professors, wanted to blame the students, wanted to blame Voldemort. But he knew he couldn't. The blame rested on him. He had opened up and kept Tom's secret. He hadn't noticed Ginny's odd behavior. He hadn't been strong enough to stop Tom. He put his trust in the wrong people.
Licorice wand was the password. Why? Harry didn't know and frankly, didn't care.
Dumbledore softly called for him to enter.
The office was exactly how he remembered it. It made him even angrier. Everything had changed yet nothing had.
"Harry," Dumbledore greeted him warmly. "Lemon drop?"
Harry declined.
Dumbledore took in his appearance. His normally unruly hair was even more unruly. His skin was a shade paler than before. Dark shadows were starting to form under his eyes. But it was his eyes that had changed the most. He not only shared his mother's eyes, he also had her habit of her eyes reflecting her emotions and right now he could see anger simmering in those emerald orbs.
"Have a seat. I would like you to tell me how you came to know Tom Riddle." It wasn't a question, Harry heard that much.
Harry took a seat, hand running across the back of the smooth wood before being placed in his lap, "He hated you, you know. He always told me to be careful around you. I thought he just didn't like you but it makes sense now, knowing who he turned into."
Albus hummed in agreement. Tom Riddle and he had never seen eye to eye.
"He was a brilliant student. Probably one of the most brilliant to ever walk these halls. He charmed not only the students but the staff. He led this school not only academically but in service as well. He had a way about him that drew people in. If I hadn't saw the real Tom Riddle, I regret to say, I too would've been fooled by him."
Harry didn't need to hear all this. He knew it, had experienced it firsthand! Was he being patronized?
"I don't think any little of you Harry. More powerful and experienced men than you have been hoodwinked by him." Dumbledore moved his arms so his elbows were leaning on his desk, head resting on his hands. "I had my doubts that Voldemort was truly gone. My thoughts were confirmed last year when he tried to steal the Philosopher's Stone I had hidden in the school."
What? He read Harry's expression.
"Yes, it seems Professor Quirrell became the unlikely host to Lord Voldemort last year. He was possessing the man but left him to die when I realized my error." Harry stared at him, dumbfounded, anger momentarily forgotten. "Lord Voldemort has clung to life against all odds. Knowing how you interacted with him will help me in my search for how."
He knew Voldemort was out there all this time, the man who killed his parents and probably wanted revenge, and he never thought Harry should know this?!
So he takes out one of the strongest Dark Lords of the century and he's just shipped off to his aunts' in the muggle world and then dumped in a muggle orphanage a few years later. Who even put him with his aunt? Did they not think to check on him? See how he was being treated? If he was even alive?!
Was that why his scar hurt last year whenever he was near Quirrell? It was telling him Voldemort was near? How did a curse scar even work like that?
"Harry?"
Harry broke out of his thoughts.
"He said he preserved his sixteen year-old memory in a diary," was his curt reply. He didn't want to be here anymore. Tom was right, Dumbledore didn't care for him or his safety.
Dumbledore let that information sink in. So it hadn't been an adult Tom Riddle that Harry had been interacting with. It had been Tom while he was still at Hogwarts. That explains how he had been able to woo both Ginny and Harry.
"Do you have this diary?"
Yes, he still had the diary because that was his first priority, Harry though sarcastically. Sorry, he had been too busy trying not to die and making sure he got Ginny out of there.
"No, Professor. Maybe if you had come yourself and not just sent Fawkes, we wouldn't be having this conversation!" Harry's voice rose at his accusation. Numerous portraits protested such disrespect. "Why didn't you come sooner, why didn't you save us?!"
Harry looked at Dumbledore, begging him, pleading for an answer. "Why didn't you save Ginny?" his voice, half cracking at the signs of puberty, pled brokenly.
"Even I make mistakes, Harry. Ginny's death was not your fault. Tom Riddle is the one who killed her. You don't need to carry that burden."
"You're wrong. I killed her. I didn't stop him. She trusted me and I failed her. I deserve to feel this pain forever. I should've died, not her!" The funny objects on his desk were thrown to the floor in frustration.
Dumbledore showed no reaction, his demeanor as calm as when Harry first entered. "You are not the first nor will you be the last to be fooled by Tom Riddle."
He was wrong. He wasn't just fooled by the memory. He had been thoroughly defeated in every sense of the word. How did he not see that?
"He branded me! I'll never be free!" he cried out. The mark on his neck was the constant reminder of his failures, of his defeat. The books stacked on the floor were the next to go.
Dumbledore never moved an inch, just calmly observing the distraught twelve year old. The previous headmasters and headmistresses weren't so calm about the destruction of the office.
"You'll grow from this. You just need to believe in yourself. "
"I feel him, like he's suffocating me. Like he's always watching me. He's won; can't you see that!? He's already won." Harry's hand moved in front of his chest, clenching inwards.
"He's only won when you stop fighting, when you no longer believe in yourself. You hold something Voldemort could never hope to have. You love Harry and you have people who love you. Yes, while you do share many similarities, what matters is how you are different. Voldemort would never feel the pain and sorrow you feel over Ginny's death."
"How can I ever win against him? That was Voldemort at 16! He's leagues beyond what I could ever hope to be."
"He taught you while you had the diary. Even he saw something in you, something powerful. If there is one thing Tom has always valued above all else, it is power. For him to teach you, his enemy, he saw potential."
Harry wished he hadn't, wished the diary had never come into his possession.
"There will come a time when we have to choose between what is right and what is easy. Your path will only get harder from here on out." Dumbledore finally moved from behind his desk, walking over to Fawkes' perch. "Help will always be given to those at Hogwarts who ask for it, I hope you remember that Harry. You don't have to take this on your own."
The office was in shambles but it was quiet. The quiet that always followed after a meltdown. A quiet everyone dreads breaking.
Harry pondered his next question carefully, the need to know almost suffocating with the information that had already been revealed.
"Why can I speak parseltongue? Neither of my parents could."
Dumbledore took in a breath, bringing his hands down so he could study Harry better. This was a question he had been hoping to avoid for some years.
"It is my belief that when he attacked you that night, part of his power latched on to you –."
"Magic can't do that. I've read all about parseltongue. It's inherited."
Harry was proving himself to be a true Ravenclaw. "I have speculated for years that he was tampering in soul magic – the diary is confirmation – and part of his soul latched onto you. This is where you get your ability to speak to snakes. I image a few other unwanted side effects as well."
Harry felt dirty. Like he wanted to vomit.
"I have seen into your soul, Harry Potter. And it is mine."
Did he know? Is that why he let him live.
Merlin, there was a piece of that monster inside him!
"How do I get it out? Why haven't you taken it out?" He wanted it out now!
Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "There is no way to get it out of you. There has never been a case where two souls inhabit the same, living body."
The door banged open unexpectedly, surprising Harry but Albus didn't seem startled by their unexpected guest.
"So you have returned." Harry could guess right away who this was: Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father.
"When it was heard Arthur Weasley's daughter was taken, the Governors saw fit to reinstate me. The Minister and Madam Bones requested an inquiry after the sad conclusion."
A small head peaked out from behind Malfoy, a very familiar head: Dobby?
"And?" the elder Malfoy implored rudely, "The culprit was caught?"
Harry observed the two and saw how Dumbledore observed the man in front of him very carefully. Did he –?
Wait, Dobby's master was Malfoy. Dobby knew about the attacks that were going to happen. How could he know that unless he knew who was going to start it?
Malfoy Sr. had given the book to Ginny; he was the cause of all of this.
"We have identified the culprit. I trust you consider your next moves very carefully Lucius. If it were ever discovered that you helped facilitate the murder of Ginny Weasley, losing your position on the Board of Governors will be the least of your concerns."
A grimace flashed across the blonde's face.
"Is that a threat?"
Dumbledore leveled a look at him, unfazed by the hostility given off by the man, "Merely a word of advice."
"If that's all." The pureblood shoved Dobby forward as he left, the door shutting gently, no matter how hard Malfoy tried to slam it.
Harry watched the pureblood leave with narrowed eyes, mouth hanging open at the events that unfolded.
"Sir, you're just going to let him go?! He's the cause of all this!"
"You know that, I know that, and he knows that. But we have no proof that he did indeed give Lord Voldemort's diary to Ginny."
"But but Dobby's the one that warned me about this happening. Can't he testify or something?"
Dumbledore looked at Harry struggling to come to terms with this unfortunate turn of events.
"The word of a House Elf holds little weight in law. Sadly, even if it did, Mr. Malfoy is the owner of Dobby."
"So he's just going to get away with it?!"
"There is something you can do." He moved his hand slightly to a book on the edge of his desk, one of the only ones to have survived Harry's temper.
Did the Headmaster finally lose his mind? How was a Quidditch book going to help him?
"Perhaps you should ask Professor Flitwick for a new tie, yours looks ripped." Dumbledore gave him a knowing smile, tilting his head forward a bit.
Ahh, Harry understood. He shared a smile with the old man as he collected the book and tugged his tie off.
Blue eyes followed the boy as he sprinted down the stairs, wondering if he made the right choice.
/
"Mr. Malfoy!" Harry finally caught up to the aristocrat. He shoved the Quidditch book into Malfoy's hands roughly. "Maybe your son can learn something from it since it seems money can't buy everything."
Harry did his best impersonation of Snape, his sneer and general condescending attitude.
His response was a returned sneer. He wasn't going to get off that easily.
"I don't care if it takes my entire life, I'll make sure you pay for her death." Harry stepped closer, "I'll make sure everyone knows how much of a coward you are, manipulating an eleven year old girl, killing her. When people think of you, you'll be worse than a Mudblood."
The book was slammed into Dobby's unsuspecting hands as Malfoy whipped his wand from his cane, advancing what little distance remained between the two.
"You think you, a filthy half-blood, can threaten me!?"
Harry stood his ground, a smirk taking over his face as his gaze was not on the advancing man but his servant behind him. Dobby read Harry's look and opened the book, out dropping his Ravenclaw tie.
"You're reputation is already ruined. Tricked by a twelve year old. Really, what did Voldemort ever see in you?"
Malfoy roared in fury, his wand raised, the forbidden curse on the tip of his tongue.
"You shall not harm Harry Potter!"
In a second, the once master was blasted across the corridor, landing in a heap.
Harry turned to Dobby, smile genuine, "I think we're even now."
Dobby's smile took over his face as he realized what exactly had happened.
"Dobby is free! Great Harry Potter freed lowly Dobby..."
Harry gained satisfaction watching the older Malfoy try to stand up gracefully. He failed as his hair had fallen out of its neat tie and his clothes wrinkled.
He deserved every piece of this. Harry only wished that there were more witnesses to see the fall of the House of Malfoy. To see the pieces of slime they really were. That money couldn't protect them forever. Not against someone who didn't care about things like that.
The older man glared at the two, knowing he couldn't do anything anymore.
"Soon, you'll meet the same end as your parents. But you won't have the fortune of a quick death."
Dobby moved so that Harry was behind him, his arm raised in warning, "You shall not harm Harry Potter!"
He knew he made an enemy that day, a very powerful enemy.
/