A Butterfly Effect Chapter 12: Happy Halloween, a harry potter fanfic

So, thanks to Wordhammer, I have discovered that there are like 500 or so Fem!Harry fics in the community 'Miss Potter.' I'm not reading any as I'd probably feel compelled to mooch ideas. But y'all should check them out.

Wordhammer also has a Girl Who Lived Story: Holly Evans and the Spiral Path.

Now I Triumph With Infinite Time. Blade Oval and Triangle

NITWIT Blubber Oddment Tweak

Thanks for reading everybody.

ONWARD

Chapter 12: Happy Halloween

A touch of the hand and this burning would, on the instant, beautifully reverse itself.

0000

The mist was thick that Halloween night. He could taste it on the girl's tongue as he swept through a particularly dense spot of the vapor. It sank into her freckled skin, sending shivers down her spine. The child trapped inside of him moaned in agony, clawing at the steel walls of his mind.

She was so weak… so useless.

Tom crept silently around the edge of his old classmate's hut; the girl's small patent shoes sinking into the mud of the pumpkin patch as he made his way towards the rooster pen. He had at least expected to have triggered a ward by now despite the half-giant's expelled status.

When his hand closed around the pen's latch, he readied himself to disarm an alarm… but there was nothing; just the creak of grimy old wood. I see you're still a foolish overly-trusting oaf, Rubeus.

Grabbing the nearest rooster by the throat, not daring to use magic in case Dumbledore was Astraling while at the Feast, Tom swiftly snapped the bird's neck with relish. Making his way through the pen, he slaughtered the animals with a satisfied smirk. Each crack of bone was a step closer to his materialization; a step closer to his second rise. Soon, he would find and join with his true self in a brand new body. Together, two souls in one vessel, they would be more powerful than ever before. They would reform the world as they saw fit.

Tom picked up the last bird. It flapped helplessly in his hands, squawking and making a terrible racket. He could feel the pulse in its neck beating rapidly against his palms. With a wrench he bent its head backwards. The bones popped and the animal went limp.

He loved when they went limp. When his filthy bastard of a muggle father tumbled to the ground like a ragdoll under the power of his wand, Tom had felt such a sensational rush; had felt such power over life and death. Tossing the dead bird onto the ground, he exited from the pen, closed the door, sealed the latch, and made his way back up to the school.

The Entrance Hall was vibrating with the thrum of chatter and music that emanated from behind the immense oak doors that led to the Great Hall. He could feel Dumbledore's overpowering ocean of magic spilling out, even from behind ten feet of stone and three feet of wood. He could feel Potter's aura as well. It was a mere pinprick when compared to Dumbledore's magic, but it was still larger than any other aura in the room. She was strong… yet she would still be no match for him when she came for her precious little Ginny.

The relationship the two shared made them so weak; so vulnerable. He had never understood why people cared for others. You could spend your whole life making bonds of friendship… but in the end… when it really counted… you would die alone. They all die alone.

Except for me. Tom grinned manically as he climbed the staircase to the second floor. I do not die. Lord Voldemort is eternal! The portraits moaned in confusion as he walked past. The external Confundus charm he had placed on the girl's clothes back in the room was performing adequately. He wouldn't be seen by their prying eyes tonight.

Tom strolled jauntily down the corridor to the bathroom where the chamber was located and paused outside its door, staring at the wall in contemplation. How should I do this? Let me see… It needs to last. Some sort of paint… or blood maybe? Yes… they must constantly fear the heir. The fear will bring me back all the more quickly; it will eat at the girl's soul so I too may feed openly upon it. But… how to inspire it?

There was a streak of black from down the hall.

Tom grinned. "Bring me the cat, Prime. Kill it if you wish."

"Yess, Masster... I will rip… tear… kill…" There was a soft ripple of magic from within the wall next to him as pipes realigned and expanded, allowing the great snake to slither through them. "… ssoo hungry… for ssoo long… kill… time to kill…" The basilisk's deep hollow voice echoed within his mind as it chased after the cat. "… I ssmell blood… I SSMELL BLOOD!"

The little redhead was making just as much racket in his mind as the snake, screaming her frustration, rage, and fear to only his ears. He slapped her mind viciously with a tendril of her own magic. Don't worry, girl. You won't remember a thing.

Tom stepped towards the wall and was about to slice open the girl's hand with her teeth when Dumbledore's magical aura exploded rapidly from below.

NO!

He hurriedly shielded the girl's mind from view as best he could… but… he exposed himself in the process. Dumbledore's sickening touch washed over him. He could feel the shock and anger from the old man as he identified his least favorite pupil.

Tom closed all his doors and dug at the old man's mind, shunting white hot knives into every tendril that touched him.

But it wasn't enough.

Dumbledore was too strong. He ate away at Tom's shield, stripping away layer after layer.

Tom frantically shouted out down the corridor, "PRIME! INTO THE GREAT HALL! DISTRACT THE OLD FOOL! THE GIRL MUST NOT BE DISCOVERED!"

Tom felt the basilisk's anger. Snakes didn't like to deviate from plans... but it did as it was told. He heard the screams of terror from the floor below and felt Dumbledore's aura and tendrils contract so he could deal with the threat of the mighty snake.

"YOU! WEASLEY!" shouted a grizzled voice from behind her.

Tom spun, drawing the girl's wand, which felt surprisingly comfortable in his hands.

He recognized the now old man's aura. Argus. They had been… acquaintances… at school. That is… until he had found out that the boy was almost a complete squib. Filthy.

There was no way he could obliviate the man. Dumbledore would surely question Filch and restore the girl's weak memory charm instantly… which left only one option.

"Avada Kedavra!"

There was a flash of green light. The girl inside his mind screamed in agony as her magic was blackened ever so slightly.

Argus' eyes went wide as the death spell sailed towards him. Tom could almost see the man's life flashing through his eyes.

But Argus didn't fall.

He wasn't even hit.

The spell had dissipated before it reached him. The man patted his chest to make sure he was still alive… which he was… completely.

The girl was too weak to cast the complex spell properly. Her magic, while adequate, was fatigued. It was his fault really… he needed her weak for the possession. He had filled her thoughts in the night with terrible dreams, keeping her from peaceful sleep.

Well… a simpler approach then.

Argus turned to run as Tom raised the wand once more.

"Diffindo!" he shouted in the girl's dulcet voice, swinging the wand in a sharp arc. The white spell cut into the back of the old man's neck, swiftly decapitating him with a lovely squelch. Tom summoned the falling body part and quickly wrote his message, using the bloody head as if it were a quill. With a smile, he stuck a finger into one of the thicker arteries and used his bloody digit to paint an afterthought at the bottom.

When he finished, he jammed the head down onto the spike of a nearby torch. Oh yes… that's excellent. Even better than the cat, I think. He waved his wand and threw a sticking charm on the blood.

There was a loud roar of agony from beneath him.

Time to go.

"PRIME, ESCAPE! NOW," he bellowed, disillusioning himself and running for the staircase that led to Gryffindor Tower. When he reached the Fat Lady, he wrenched the password from the portrait's magic, opened the passage, and sprinted up to the girl's dorm. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror and released her, escaping through her mouth.

The girl stared down at her hands and trembled. "Oh no… Harry! OH GOD! What… what have I d-"

"Ginny," he whispered in her ear.

The girl whirled around and their eyes met.

Tom smashed into the corridor of her mind, tearing out the memories of the night's events. He cleared them all away; all the way back to the moment before she left for the bathroom.

Poor, pathetic child. It really is miraculous that she is so closely linked to my killer. When I am corporeal, I shall award Lucius most handsomely for his… insight.

Tom broke through the roof of her mental corridor and latched on to her mobile control. He made her clean the blood from her hands and clothes and walked her to the bed. Laying the trembling girl down gently, he retreated to the front of the corridor where he could withdraw the memory of his touch.

She fought viciously against his control... but to no avail.

He was Lord Voldemort... and she was nothing.

0000

Harry gasped in wonder as she walked into the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione. It looked magnificent. The entire room was darkened and Hagrid's massive pumpkins were floating in midair, carved into entrancing portrayals of mythical creatures, lit by the flickering candlelight. Along the wall, a full orchestra of charmed skeletons was playing an eerie mesmerizing tune. Some extremely diligent Professor had streamed silky spider webs over the entire ceiling. When Harry pointed them out to Ron, he pulled her hand down, gripping it tightly.

"Yeah, Harry," he said with a shiver. "That's… neat."

Hermione let out a small grunt of distress seeing that she was being left out and grabbed Ron's other hand. "They're not real Ron… just illusions."

"Well… why's there a giant spider on your shoulder, then?" he asked, turning pale.

Hermione scoffed and gave Ron a 'you're not going to fool me with that' glare.

Harry laughed a bit nervously as the large tarantula crawled into Hermione's bushy locks. "Erm… Mione, there… there is a spider."

"Harry, I really don't think that's very f-" Hermione squealed as the black spider placed a hairy leg on her neck. She smacked at it wildly and the large arachnid went sailing into Ron's face.

To the amusement of the entire hall, his scream was extremely high-pitched.

After Harry had told him she had cast a spell on him to ward off spiders… which was actually just a warming charm, Ron muttered to Hermione bad temperedly as he munched on a large piece of brisket, "Honestly, woman! You hit it right into my mouth!"

Hermione sighed heavily as she ladled pumpkin soup into her bowl. "On accident, Ronald!"

"Yeah well, now everyone thinks I'm a… I'm a… a ninny!"

Harry rubbed him on the back. "You're a very lovable ninny, Ron."

"Oh shut it," Ron mumbled, jabbing a sweet potato with his fork.

She giggled. Ginny, had she been here, would have at that moment pushed her down the bench into Ron's side. But she wasn't here… and Harry wasn't brave enough to do it herself… even though she wanted to. She and Ron used to touch so often… and now… whenever they did, Harry would… well.

She bit down into her broiled mutton, letting her hair fall into her face to hide her blush.

She snuck a wishful look in his direction. Was it wrong of her to be just the tiniest bit happy that, for now, Lavender was out of the picture? Yes. It was. But that's how she felt anyway.

Harry happened a glance over at Parvati, who was stirring her potatoes glumly. In the three weeks since Lavender had been petrified, Parvati had not spoken a word to anyone, not even to Padma, who asked Harry everyday whether or not her sister had gone to class and eaten her meals.

Harry felt terrible for the girl. The mandrakes needed for the potion that would revive Lavender wouldn't be mature until the end of the school year. Eight months without her best friend.

Harry caught Parvati's eye and smiled sympathetically. The girl nodded in appreciation, but her eyes moistened and she put her head in her hands. Neville placed a friendly consoling arm around the girl's shoulder and Parvati surprisingly threw her arms around the slightly pudgy boy's neck. Neville seemed at a loss as to what to do with the weepy Indian girl sobbing into his chest. For some reason, he looked to Harry for help.

Harry shrugged and discreetly motioned for Neville to hug the girl… which he did.

Ten minutes later, Parvati was smiling widely, munching happily on a large pasty, and chatting avidly with Neville about his cactuses.

When the main courses disappeared and dessert materialized, as soon as she saw the vast collection of sweets, Harry, for the first time in her life, wished she hadn't eaten so much. Professor Dumbledore had really pulled out all the stops this year. Mountains of every delicious treat she could imagine sat upon the table. Harry cackled with delight, loaded several handfuls of chocolates and crèmes into the pockets of her robe for Ginny, and dug in.

Even though she was completely full... she was still able to summon the strength to consume a piece of treacle tart, a piece of chocolate-meringue pie, a pumpkin ice cream sundae, several toffee filled chocolates, and a large goblet full of hot white chocolate topped with whipped cream and gingerbread crumbles.

Ginny's right. I'm a piggy. "Oink Oink." She giggled to herself and slumped onto Hermione's shoulder in a food induced daze.

Hermione wrapped an arm around her waist and said with a slightly slurred laugh from the many chocolate cordials she had consumed, "Harry, I think it's entirely possible that you have stu tomachs… two stomachs."

Harry opened her mouth to reply, but at that exact moment… she heard it.

"…ssoo hungry… for ssoo long…"

Harry sat up, chilled to the bone, and grabbed at Hermione's robes. "Did you hear that, Mione? Ron?"

"Hear wha'?" Ron asked, through a mouthful of potatoes. "Your oinking?"

"… kill… time to kill…"

"No!" said Harry desperately, looking around for the source. "That voice! It… It sounds like it's coming from…" Harry looked up at the spider webbed ceiling. "Up there."

"… I ssmell blood… I SSMELL BLOOD!"

No one could hear it except for her. Not a single person in the Great Hall. I'm not crazy!

Harry formed a rudimentary probe and sent it to Professor Dumbledore. She tried to knock on the walls of his mind politely… but she imagined it was more like heavy intrusive thuds by the way the Headmaster jumped in his seat.

Clear twinkling blue eyes swiveled to meet Harry's own and she felt her tendril solidify into a hardened pathway as Dumbledore reinforced it. She didn't speak… but tried to convey in general ideas what was happening, bringing the memories of hearing the voices to the forefront of her mind.

I'm hearing a voice that no one else can hear, sir. That's three times that I've heard it now. I… I think it's coming from above us. It's going to kill something!

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. He turned to Filch who sat two seats to his left and whispered something to the man. The grubby old caretaker stood up and quickly left the hall.

Harry felt a veritable shift in the air. She didn't know what it was, but it felt slightly like a breeze… without wind.

And then… something happened that she had never seen before.

Professor Dumbledore's face contorted with anger… real anger. The wrinkled lines in his wizened face darkened, his white eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenched and ground, his hands gripped the tablecloth, and in his eyes… there was no twinkle. Power rolled from him in undulating waves.

It was more terrifying than Voldemort, to see the kind, caring, eccentric old man become… this.

The students started to notice; some of them muttering excitedly about whatever new Halloween surprise Dumbledore had in store for them.

A hole, ten feet wide, appeared in the ceiling above the Head table. Something was stirring within it. Something was slithering out of its depths.

Something huge hit the stone beneath their feet.

The Hall shook. The floor quaked. The students let out a collective gasp.

"Holy buggering shite!" yelled Ron.

A massive serpent uncoiled from the ground and slowly raised its head. Its hook-shaped scales were a bright poisonous green; its body as thick around as Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia and as long as a Hogwarts corridor. The snake's eyes were shut tightly, but its mouth, lined with saber-thin fangs the length of her arm… was open wide. "TIME TO KILL …" it hissed menacingly.

A good portion of the students were clapping excitedly, thinking this was part of the Feast. Even a few teachers were clapping along.

Harry, however, knew otherwise.

Dumbledore quickly waved his wand in a huge arc. She felt a small sucking sensation all over her body and quite instantly, in the blink of an eye, the scenery had shifted. The head and house tables, still full of teachers and students, were in the Entrance Hall.

Dumbledore flung open the entrance to the Great Hall and, with surprising quickness for his age, dashed inside, slamming the doors shut behind him.

There was a moment of extreme silence… and then… a mighty, bellowing roar of pain from inside the closed doors echoed over them.

Screams and shouts of suddenly realized terror erupted from the mass of black-robed students. It was chaos. People pushed and shoved to get to the staircases, knocking over the benches, the teachers, and each other. McGonagall was trying to calm everyone down… but she might as well have been trying to draw blood from a stone.

Someone knocked into her and she fell into Ron, who fell into Hermione, who fell into Seamus, who fell into Cormac McLaggen, who fell into Marcus Flint, who fell into Lockhart. She heard the blonde wizard squeal as he was trampled.

"SILENNNNNCE!" yelled a commanding and echoing voice.

All movement and noise ceased.

Dumbledore stood in the doorway to the Great Hall looking slightly tired, but none the worse for wear. He drew himself up to his full height and said with a grateful nod, "Most appreciated, shouting is particularly unpleasant for an old wheezing man like me."

The Headmaster picked up a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean from the Slytherin table and popped it into his mouth. "The immediate threat is passed. The beast has gone. Prefects, please accompany all students back to their respective common rooms at once. All teachers, if you would follow me back into the hall?"

The two groups went their separate ways. Harry followed Ron's feet, not really paying attention to where they were going.

I can hear it because it's a snake! Blimey… Dumbledore fought it all by himself. It was huge. Biggest snake I've ever…no, not a snake… a monster. How did it get in? Where did that hole come f-

She walked right into Ron's back. The boy had stopped, frozen in his tracks, and was staring at the wall in front of them. Harry peeked around Ron's shoulder.

There, on the wall, was bright red lettering that looked sickeningly like blood.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

And… there was something… beneath it… on… the…

Bile rose into Harry's throat and she fell to her knees, vomiting up half of what she had eaten at the gruesome sight. Most of the other students in the crowd were in a similar state.

Filch's head, frozen in an expression of terrible fear, had been impaled upon the spike of a torch grate. It was dripping blood from the nose, mouth, and neck. Harry realized with a sickening lurch of her stomach that the lettering actually was blood.

"Harry," Ron said, paling to sheet white. "Come on. W-We need to… to go." He dragged her through the crowd. People were whispering and pointing at her as she passed.

He tried to keep her from seeing it. He tried to muscle her down the hall.

But Harry glimpsed it through the crook in his arm. There was smaller lettering next to the torch.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, HARRY.

Her knees trembled violently. The entire crowd was staring at her with a mix of shocked, terrified, and accusatory stares. To her knowledge, she was the only Harry in the school. Whoever had done this… had done it with her in mind. A sob escaped her throat and she sank into Ron's arms as her legs gave out from beneath her.

"Argus," whispered Dumbledore, who had pushed his way through the crowd. "Alas… you did not deserve this fate. Forgive me." He vanished the head from the torch, as well as the body that lay further down the hallway. "All students will report to their dormitories at once. Quickly now! Miss Potter… I think it would be best if you were to accompany me to my office. Mr. Weasley... if you would be so kind as to help her?"

The two of them followed the Professor slowly, as Harry could barely stand up straight. Her heart was sagging in her chest and her legs wobbled as if they were made of gelatin.

The gargoyle saw them coming apparently because it leapt aside at their approach without being given the password. Once inside the office, Dumbledore offered her a lemon drop which she took gratefully. Calm washed over her as she popped it into her mouth.

Ron turned to leave but Harry caught his hand and whispered, "Stay."

Dumbledore waved his wand and two pink cushioned stools appeared out of thin air. "Yes… do sit down, Ronald. I suspect Harry will need your most excellent walking assistance for the trip back to Gryffindor Tower."

Ron's ears turned pink.

"Now, Harry," said Dumbledore as he sat in his chair with a flourish. "I'm afraid we must speak quickly for I must see to fortifying the school. Firstly, I fear that Voldemort has possessed yet another body… although I admit that I failed to discover who it was. Secondly, I must ask… has anyone you have encountered recently been acting strangely or particularly belligerent?"

"Erm… well… Pansy's always been belligerent… Snape too." Harry shook her head. "But no one has been acting different than normal, Professor. So… wait … it was Voldemort that… that wrote on the wall? That… that killed… He's back already?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Alas, Harry, yes… he is back already. And he has, once again, opened the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that then?" chimed Ron curiously.

"Ah yes…I suppose you wouldn't know. Well… the Chamber of Secrets is, quite logically, a secret chamber. According to legend, it was built by Salazar Slytherin before the Great Fire and before he fled the school. It is said to withhold a terrible monster… a monster, I think, that we have just met tonight."

"You… you said that this has happened before, sir?" asked Harry, trying to block out the image of Filch being brutally murdered by a shadowy figure with burning red eyes.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Although my evidence is not absolutely concrete, I am fairly certain that it was Voldemort who opened the Chamber fifty-six years ago while he was a student here at Hogwarts. A young girl lost her life and it has just been made clear to me that the cause of her death was by the gaze of the basilisk."

"What's a basilisk?" mumbled Harry apprehensively.

Dumbledore folded his hands in a steeple and fixed her with a penetrating gaze. "A basilisk is a creature of utter nightmare. The large serpent, the King of Serpents, can kill with its gaze alone. We are lucky that it was instructed to not kill wantonly else… we would likely all be traveling down the path of our next great adventure."

"T-The King of Serpents?" gasped Harry. The King has come! "Alice! She… she knew! She could've told me!"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes… the legends do say that a basilisk is the Prime species of all snakes. However, its name most likely indicates more than its sheer size. I imagine lesser snakes must obediently submit to the whims of the monster."

His reassurance did not make her feel any better or any less angry.

Dumbledore continued. "Now… at any time that you hear the basilisk's voice, Harry, I wish for you to send for me. We must discover the person to whom Voldemort has bound himself. To do this expediently, I must bind you to Fawkes. May I have a lock of your hair?"

Harry grabbed hold of a particularly pointy part of her hair and chopped it off with a conjured pair of scissors that disappeared with a puff of smoke when she placed them down upon the desk.

Dumbledore smiled and took the small bundle of hairs. He waved his wand and the black strands turned to ash with a great burst of searing flame. He scooped up the remains and walked over to Fawkes. The bird didn't look at all healthy. Instead of his usual brilliant red plumage, Fawkes was brown and his feathers were oily, looking as if they had begun to fall out.

Dumbledore trilled and cooed softly as he placed the ashes of Harry's hair into the silver basin beneath the phoenix's perch. "Fawkes… I know it is of great inconvenience to you, but would you mind terribly if I asked you to burn early? It is of the utmost importance."

Fawkes trilled angrily.

"True, True," mumbled Dumbledore guiltily. "I shall buy you some owl treats as soon as I am able."

Fawkes glared at the Headmaster… then burst into flame.

Harry and Ron jumped in shock.

"Not to worry," chuckled the old wizard. "You must remember that Fawkes is a phoenix. When it is time for a phoenix to die, they erupt into flame and are reborn from the ashes. Watch."

Sure enough, a tiny wrinkled bird poked its head out of the ashes a few moments later, trilling in delight.

Dumbledore sighed. "Ah good, he likes you, Harry. I was afraid he might reject your ash. For you see, now... you are a part of him. I suppose it is fitting… as he is a part of your wand. Now that you are bound, Fawkes will come when you call and you may send for me."

Harry stood and went over to the perch, holding out her hand for the little red bird to inspect. It cooed gently and nibbled her finger. "He's beautiful, sir."

"Aye, that he is… although I think he would prefer 'handsome,' rather than 'beautiful.' He's much to proud for his own good."

The chick slowly tried to stand on its wobbly legs, but promptly fell over into the ash with a frustrated trill.

Harry placed her hands on either side of Fawkes and helped the bird walk upright around the basin. For a moment, as she played with the happy chick, she almost forgot the message scrawled on the wall. Almost.

Dumbledore must have noticed her glum expression for his hand found her shoulder and he squeezed lightly. His half moon spectacles slid down his nose so he could look her directly in the eyes. "It is not your doing, Harry. Voldemort is a cruel soul. Any and all blame for Argus' death lies with him. The message to you is doing exactly as it was intended: to make you fear and doubt yourself. You mustn't waver, dear girl."

Harry nodded even though she didn't really believe what she was agreeing with.

Ron, who had been mysteriously silent, spoke up. "Professor Dumbledore, sir? Can Harry control it? The big snake I mean. Couldn't she just tell it to shove off?"

The Headmaster sat back down at his desk. "No, I'm afraid that privilege only lies with the Heir of Slytherin… which Voldemort clearly is… I should have seen it… ah well; the only thing we can do now is to, in the words of one of my dearest friends, 'keep buggering on.'"

Ron snorted.

"Yes…" said Dumbledore humorously. "That was always my reaction as well. Winston always knew just how to make someone smile."

Harry wanted to laugh… but she found that she couldn't. Filch's pained final expression was burned into her mind's eye.

"Now… let us get you both back to your common room, shall we?" said the Headmaster pleasantly.

"Sir?" said Harry slowly. "What is he after?"

Dumbledore fixed her with an appraising gaze. "Again, Harry, you ask a question to which you already know the answer to."

Harry shifted uncomfortably on her poof cushion. Me.

Dumbledore accompanied them all the way back to Gryffindor Tower to ensure they reached it safely.

Harry collapsed into a plush chair next to the fire the minute they had climbed through the portrait hole. Her face felt like it was set in a particularly heavy frown.

Ron sat down on the chair's arm and grabbed her hand. "You heard Dumbledore, Harry. It's not your fau-"

"Yes it is."

Ron scratched his head in frustration and said slowly, "I'm not good at… at consoling people… but, I mean… think about it… the only real blame is on that arsehole that did it, yeah?"

"He did it because he wanted revenge, Ron! He's taunting me!"

"Well, he still did it… so it's still his fault, isn't it?' said Ron obstinately, brushing the hair out of Harry's eyes and wiggling her glasses up and down playfully. "Look, just don't think about it."

She turned her cheek into his palm. "Help… Help me up, will you? I'm going to bed."

Ron pulled her up and she made her way to the girl's staircase.

He called after her. "I lost your quill, Harry."

That made her pause. That made her smile. Really smile. She leaned over the banister to look down at him. "I lost your quill too, Ron. Night."

"Night."

Harry turned and pushed open the door to the first year dorm. Ginny was lying on the bed exactly where Harry had left her, staring intently at the wall.

"Hey Gin, here's your-" All of Ginny's candy was gone. Harry vaguely remembered it rolling out of her pockets when she fell on the floor to retch. "Never mind… Gin?"

Ginny continued to blankly gaze at the wall beside her.

Concerned, Harry sat down on the bed and shook Ginny's shoulders. "Gin?

It was as if Ginny was a doll and Harry's touch brought her to life. Amber eyes swiveled and widened when they saw her.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, perplexed. "You were… Your eyes were burning a hole into the wall."

Ginny sat up in bed holding her temples in her hands. "Yeah. I'm fine. Merlin, the Feast went by quickly, didn't it?" She eyed Harry disappointedly. "No candy?"

Harry shook her head and shivered at the image that refused to leave her head. "I… I dropped it… when… when I saw him."

Ginny frowned and placed her cold hand over Harry's feverish one. "Who? Harry… what's wrong?"

The horrific face of the murdered caretaker flashed before her eyes. "Filch," whispered Harry, shivering. "He's… He's… dead."

"What?"

Harry told her everything.

Ginny didn't say a word when she finished, just pulled her into the bathroom, stripped her down, and forced her into the tub. The redhead sat on the edge of the bath and pulled Harry's head back into her lap, her feet splashing into the water at Harry's side.

Harry slapped Ginny's calf softly. "Hey… get in."

Ginny flicked Harry's ear and stood up to unbutton her skirt. "Then budge over."

"Oi," Harry moaned, covering her ears. "Don't… I'm delicate."

Ginny pulled off her shirt. "You're delicate! I've been sleeping and I feel like I've just played an hour of Quidditch."

"At least you were sleeping finally." Harry slid forward to leave room for the girl as she pulled off her red bra and white knickers.

Ginny climbed into the tub and squeezed out some soap, beckoning Harry backwards.

"Thanks, Gin," she whispered, closing her eyes in relaxation as Ginny's hands roved across her scalp, spreading sweet smelling shampoo all over her hair. Harry flipped the hourglass, sighed in contentment, and inhaled the lavender that danced with strawberries. Her budding breasts tingled pleasantly in the warm water that sloshed like waves crashing upon a beach. "Why do you like doing this so much?" asked Harry, tilting her head back onto Ginny's shoulder.

Ginny giggled and sighed happily. "Because… I like seeing you smile like you used to."

Harry moaned as Ginny rubbed a particularly sensitive spot below her earlobe. "U-Used to?"

Ginny's hands stopped moving, her chin found Harry's neck, and she whispered hesitantly into her ear, "During Christmas. You know, before… before he… got at you."

Quirrell. Harry drew her knees up to her chest. "Have I been different, then?"

The redhead wrapped her arms around Harry's shoulders and pulled her back into the cushion of her larger bosom "No… not really. It's just little things… like… your smile. It doesn't meet your eyes all the time… except… well, except when we're all alone. And your eyes… they're… harder."

"Because Voldemort's after me! I have to be… I have to be hard," Harry mumbled, turning sideways so she could lean into Ginny's chest and still be able to hold her knees; still be safe.

Ginny flinched as Harry said the name. "He… he won't get you, Harry. I won't let him. You don't have to be hard."

Harry closed her eyes and tried not to cry. "He… Qui- he hurt me so bad, Gin… and I… I didn't deserve it!' Harry shook her head vehemently. "I… I didn't. I… didn't. Did I des-?"

"No!" Ginny cried, cutting her off and turning red in outrage that Harry had even considered the thought. "You didn't! Why do you keep torturing yourself like this? He was… he was evil and he got what he deserved!"

"Yeah… I… I guess." Fiddling with the tips of the redhead's beautiful hair, Harry stuffed a lock of it into her mouth. A ripple of back-arching pleasure shot down her spine. She sighed deeply and trailed a pruned finger across Ginny's freckled collarbone. With the hourglass turned, Harry could feel the girl's heart hammering slowly against her arm like a hammer on an anvil. She took a deep breath of strawberry that sent little shocks all over her body, making her shiver.

"How could you possibly be cold?" Ginny asked with a giggle.

Harry felt her cheeks heat rapidly. "Erm… one secret?"

Ginny sighed and gave her an exasperated look but nodded. "One secret."

0000

She leaned over the banister and flashed him her real smile. He had missed that smile. Harry's real smile and Hermione's blush, two things that were rarely seen nowadays, always made his chest tighten when he was the one that made them happen.

She spoke softly, her words like tinkling wind-chimes. "I lost your quill too, Ron. Night."

"Night," he whispered back, heart pounding slightly faster than it had a moment ago.

Singsongs and wind-chimes; blushes and smiles; toffee and broom polish. They twisted him about, pulling his head this way and that. Ron felt his ears heat up rapidly as he imagined them in a broom closet with him. Harry would moan and squeal. Hermione would gasp and sigh.

Stop it! They're your mates.

But he couldn't help it.

Stupid bloody lipstick.

Ever since he had seen them with their glossy makeup, he hadn't been able to control his thoughts or actions. It's was almost like they were Veela.

He couldn't help thinking about the way Harry looked at him; the way her eyes softened just the tiniest bit. He couldn't help thinking about their almost kiss at the Burrow. He couldn't help thinking about how she felt against him in the rain when the same thing happened again a few weeks ago; about how his hands had accidentally fallen onto her well sculpted bottom.

He couldn't help how whenever Hermione walked into a room his gaze would lock onto her like a bludger. He couldn't help thinking about how her hands would play with his hair on the sparse occasions that his head had been in her lap. He couldn't help breathing her in; the lush scent of her and how it made his brain fuzzy. He couldn't help thinking about how he wanted to run his hands through her mad bush of silky brown hair.

Bloody girls. Girls with their lipstick and their bums and their… their bubbies… and their…

He glared down at the steadily growing tent in his pants and tried to think about the gruesome sight he had seen tonight… which put an end to his growth extremely quickly.

Ron sighed, turned for bed… and yelped in surprise.

Dumbledore was sitting in the armchair right behind him, sipping a cup of tea and setting silver chess pieces on the same large floating board that he had seen in Dumbedore's office. The Headmaster waved a hand and beckoned Ron to sit.

He sat. "Erm… Sir, what are-"

The old man interrupted him. "Orbital defenses, Ronald. I have configured the wards… but I thought an extra bit of security inside the castle would be essential."

Ron stared. "I'm… I don't understand, Professor."

Dumbledore chuckled and pulled out a small candy, popping it into his mouth. "One of our earliest Headmasters had a penchant for the game, you see. He designed a set of internal defenses that could only be activated through a round of chess. Why? I cannot say. Nonetheless… they will be essential in catching the possessed soul. So, we must activate them. The quality of the defense depends heavily on the quality of the game… thus… I have come to you, Ronald.

Me?

The Headmaster took another sip of tea and smiled warmly at him. "Don't look so surprised, dear boy. You thoroughly trounced Minerva's defense this past year. Perhaps you will find me more of a challenge. Shall we play?"

"Yeah, al-alright, sir." Ron touched the silver pieces and they came to life. Each type of figure was in the shape of a different magical creature. Ron's were a lighter shade of metal than Dumbledore's so he assumed his pieces were white. "Knight to F-3."

An armor-clad, mace-wielding centaur standing in the Knight's position bounded over a row of house elves. Dumbledore 'hmmmm'd' and pushed a pawn forward two spaces.

They danced around each other's pieces for twenty minutes, before Ron triumphantly trapped one of Dumbledore's rooks. His centaur viciously smashed the troll to the ground.

What Ron realized twelve moves later, when his vampire Bishop was beheaded, was that the Headmaster was truly a master of the game and could switch tactics and plans as easily as Ron himself. He was a far better opponent than Harry, who, while good, lacked the will to make the essential sacrifices required for traps. But that's just who Harry was. She'd never sacrifice anyone if she could help it, annoying little chess pieces included.

The game slowed considerably. It was likely four in the morning before Ron saw a possibility for mate. It was risky and would require that Dumbledore fall for his trap, but he liked the occasional risk. Ron slid his Queen into the space that would be her end in thirteen moves.

Take the bait… take it. Come on… take it. Just take it.

Dumbledore slid his rook two spaces to the left.

Ron tried not to smile.

Got you.

In twenty-one turns, Dumbledore heaved a great sigh and poked his King in the back. The crowned sorcerer turned to look up at Dumbledore with a glare. The Headmaster chuckled and pointed his index finger down to the board. The little King muttered angrily about 'old coots not worth their salt,' took off its crown, and chucked it at Ron's forehead.

"Ouch! Why you little buggering sod! I'll… Oh… erm… sorry, Professor."

The Headmaster waved his hand nonchalantly. "I've most assuredly heard it before, my boy. I must say… that was the most challenging match I've ever had the pleasure to play. You are truly a master. I was almost tempted to cheat. I would bow… but my bones would object most ardently to the task, I think."

Ron swelled with pride. "Thank you, sir. You're easily the best I've ever played. Maybe we could have a go again sometime?"

"I'd enjoy it immensely if we did so, Ronald." Dumbledore tapped his wand on the board and it glowed fiercely, showering the dark common room with light.

0000

Harry awoke the following morning on her back. There was a soft wind on her neck and a tight grip in her hair. A leg was thrown over her thighs. An arm rested beneath the thin cotton of her T-shirt.

Harry reached up and unclasped Ginny's freckled hand from her messy black tangle, entwining their fingers together. She slowly turned her head to look at the girl whose other hand was lightly cupping Harry's left breast. She thought she had come to understood why Ginny's hand always ended up in this same spot. The redhead was protecting it; protecting her heart.

Harry brushed away a few red strands from the angelic face and found a familiar sight that made her heart wrench painfully. Ginny was crying in her sleep, tears falling in a steady stream down her nose.

Do more.

Help her.

Not really knowing what she was doing, heart suddenly beating faster than it ever had before, Harry leaned forward and kissed away Ginny's tears, enjoying and yet hating the taste of the salty liquid all the way down to…

She hesitated over the pink lips.

Girls don't kiss. They don't… and it's… it's Ginny!

Ginny's even prettier than Luna. You want to kiss Luna again, don't you?

What? No! I want to be with Ron!

And Luna?

And-

She didn't let the rebellious voice in her head finish. "No!" she cried, sitting up in bed, clutching her temples. "What in Merlin's name was that, Harry?"

"Like to know that myself," said a sleepy voice next to her.

Harry tried to describe it but found she couldn't. Her body was tingling all over and the familiar warmth between her legs that she felt every morning was suddenly a hundred times more intense.

"Sorry, Gin. I'm just …" Harry trailed off, blushing, grabbing Ginny's hand. "Do you remember what that woman in The Witching Hour said about… about… how… how we'd start to want to… touch down there?"

Ginny's eyes widened and she sat up. "Do… do you need to do it? Right now?"

"I think so," Harry whispered quietly.

Ginny squeaked in excitement and covered her mouth. "Can I watch?"

Harry blushed furiously and shook her head. If she saw, it would spoil everything. Ginny would figure out her secret and all of this would be… different. "I… no… don't watch."

Ginny nodded, kissed Harry on the cheek, and ran into the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, Harry pushed down her pajama bottoms and knickers and ran her palm over her folds.

She cried out at the contact as it sent a jolt all throughout her body. Her mind went blank and she swirled her fingers around her button frantically, furiously, and clumsily, needing the warmth to peak as it had on the broom above King's Cross. She needed that feeling again. Her body ached for it.

And eventually, it came. Like a wave, it crashed over her. Her thighs shook and Harry covered her mouth with the crook of her elbow to stop herself from screaming.

Five minutes later, after she had fully recovered, she entered the bathroom. Ginny was sitting on the sink, swinging her legs back and forth. "All done?" the redhead asked, sliding off the marble. "How was it?"

Harry blushed crimson. It's mind-blowing. "It's… sort of nice… I guess."

Ginny giggled. "It's gross is what it is. I'm not looking forward to it."

Harry wanted to change the topic. "Breakfast, then?"

"Yes please."

They dressed quickly, Harry picked up Alice, and they headed down to the common room.

When they stepped out of the portrait hole however, they were stopped abruptly. Ginny slid behind her, wrapping her arms protectively around Harry's waist.

An imposing, giant of a man, at least fifteen feet tall, stood in front of them. He wore a silver crown upon his head and carried a silver staff in hand. His metallic robes billowed while he stood still as a stone. His flat silver face was featureless apart from a thin lipless mouth and two blazing eyes made of blue flame. The statuesque man reminded her greatly of…

Harry made for her wand but the metal man came alive, just like McGonagall's and Flitwick's chess set. It brandished its staff and bellowed in a deep grinding voice "Halt!"

Harry and Ginny froze, not entirely of their own will. It felt like something was pressuring her to stand perfectly in place. The giant metal man swooped down upon them, pressing its flat face close to Harry's nose. She could feel the heat from the fires where its eyes should have been. The blue flames drew her in… she felt something wash over her... and then... the silver man retreated. He paced to the side and growled, "You may pass."

Harry and Ginny hurried down to the Great Hall, not quite sure what had just happened. Inside the large double doors, they encountered yet another statue, this time a giant armored centaur. "Halt!"

They went through the same confrontation and it let them pass. Ron and Hermione were already sitting down; Hermione looking rather exasperated and Ron looking rather smug.

Ron puffed out his chest. "Hey mate! Guess what?"

Hermione let out a shriek of disgust and pelted Ron with raisins to accentuate her words. "Shut. Up. Already. You. Stupid. Prat!"

Harry sat down next to Hermione and heaped a pile of bacon, toast, and marmalade onto her plate. "What have you done this time, Ron?" she asked with a giggle.

Ron's ears went pink and he chucked one of Hermione's pelted raisins at her. "Oi! It's a good thing!"

"Yes Ron!" cried Hermione. "We know… and you can stop boasting about it now." She turned to Harry. "Ron beat Dumbledore at chess and in the process helped set up these giant aura-readers. He's already filled me in on everything that happened last night… but he won't shut up about his win."

Harry paled… she hadn't thought about yesterday all morning… and it all flooded back to her: the snake, and Filch, and Fawkes, and the message. People all around the Hall were staring at her intently. She let her hair fall into her eyes as she spread marmalade onto her toast in misery. It's… it's all my… my f-

"May I have a banana pleasse, Harry sspeaker?" Alice slid down her arm and looked up at Harry with her small emerald green eyes.

Alice.

Alice the Snake.

Alice who could have warned them.

Alice who knew all about what had been happening.

Alice who was under the command of the basilisk.

Harry stood abruptly, grabbed four bushels of bananas, picked up Alice, and left the Hall without a word. She heaved open the doors to the grounds and marched out into the rain. Slowly, trudging through the mud, Harry made her way toward the Forbidden Forest, getting angrier and angrier with every step.

At the forest's edge she threw the bananas down and dropped Alice unceremoniously into the dirt. "GO!" she screamed at the snake. "Go and never come back!"

Alice raised her head to look up into Harry's eyes. "I do not undersstand, Chica. Why do you wissh me to go?"

The rain mixed with her tears. "Why should I explain? WHY? You didn't explain either! JUST GO!"

The snake slithered over to her ankle and slid up her leg. "Why do you ssend me away? I do not wissh to go!"

Harry wrenched her off and held the little white snake up to her eyes, shaking her hands to get the point across. "How could you, Alice? How could you sleep in my room? How could you sleep in my bed? How could you, knowing what you did about the basilisk?"

"He iss King! I musst obey!"

She could barely see through her tears while she shouted. "SOMEONE WAS KILLED BY ITS MASTER AND IT'S OUR FAULT! WE COULD HAVE STOPPED IT IF ONLY YOU'D TOLD ME!"

Alice poked her tongue out onto Harry's thumb. "Forgive me! Do not ssend me away, Harry sspeaker! I do not wissh to go! I could not betray King! He iss Great… and I am ssmall. He iss Prime… and I am dirt. We are alliess… but-"

"WE'RE MORE THAN ALLIES!" shouted Harry in rage and anguish.

"What iss more than alliess, Chica?"

Harry shook the snake hard. "I love you, Alice! We're friends! You were my very first friend!" She hated when the words she wanted to say came out in English. "How can you not understand what I'm saying? How do you not know what friends are?"

"I do not undersstand!" The snake wrapped around her wrist and made a noise that sounded like a cry and a hiss put together.

Alice was crying too.

"I know you don't understand!" Harry sank down into the mud and hugged the snake to her wet and slightly snot covered face. "Please! J-Just go! You're under the command of that horrible thing and it obeys Voldemort! What if… what if it tells you to hurt someone? You won't think twice about it! You have to go, Alice!" Harry uncoiled the snake and put her on the ground, giving her a little shove towards the bananas. "That's enough to last you a few months."

"I do not… I do not… I do not wissh to go!" The snake slithered back around and tightly recoiled onto her fingers, making her little crying hiss.

"No, Alice… Please g-go!"

"I do not wissh to! I do not wissh to!"

Harry pushed the snake off her fingers, stood, and ran as fast as she could back to the castle.

Ginny had been watching her from the steps to the Entrance Hall. When Harry was close, she opened her arms wide and Harry slammed into her, sobbing and hugging the redhead in a vice-grip.

"Shhhh, it's alright," whispered Ginny comfortingly, kissing her cheek. "You had to."

Harry didn't know how long they sat on the steps, getting pelted by the rain. It was likely only a few minutes… but it felt like hours before Ginny pulled her up and dragged her back into the Great Hall. Ginny sat Harry down next to Ron, who threw an arm around her shoulder.

"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Hermione. "Where did you take, Alice?"

Harry choked on a sob and buried her eyes into Ron's jumper.

Ginny whispered into Hermione's ear.

Hermione blanched. "Ooo Harry, I'm sorry. That was terribly insensitive of me."

Harry nodded her acceptance but couldn't bring her head out from the warm maroon wool.

Halfway through breakfast Dumbledore shot a firework into the air and stood to get the attention of the chattering mass of teenagers. "Good morning, students. I have several words that must be departed before you begin the day's lessons. Firstly… A grave tragedy occurred in this castle last night. A good man was murdered. I must ask you all to consider our departed friend Argus Filch. Argus made Hogwarts a clean and wondrous place to both live and learn. Let us now observe a moment of silence to honor the man that was taken from us in an act of terrible malice."

No one spoke… although a few Slytherins pointedly coughed. Dumbledore waved his wand and those few individuals' heads were suddenly covered in their eggs and porridge.

Dumbledore clapped once. "Ah that will do, thank you. Our hearts are with you, Argus. Now, secondly, we come to the matter of our resident basilisk. I assure you now, no matter what rumors you hear, Hogwarts will not be closing. However, attendance is completely optional. Should you and your parents wish to discontinue your education until the matter is resolved, then that is entirely acceptable. Should this be your choice, you may leave school tonight on the Hogwarts Express. Thirdly, Aurors armed with roosters, as well as our new metal sentinels, will be patrolling the halls and standing guard at all exits in and out of the castle. It would be most wise to leave both well alone. Also, in addition to our new defenses, mirrors will be placed strategically throughout all hallways. Should you hear any ominous slithering and or hissing, it is recommended that you stand in front of any of these said mirrors. Fourthly, I would like to introduce our new resident caretaker, granddaughter of Mr. Filch, Madame Dominque Dupont."

There was a loud burst of applause from the male population of the school as the woman stood. Even Snape was clapping appreciatively.

Harry could immediately see why. Dupont was absolutely beautiful. She was young, mid-thirties, slender, had long blonde hair, flawless Nordic features, and an amplitude of curves. There was something ethereal about the woman... about the way her platinum blonde locks shimmered in the light. Harry felt the tiniest urge to do something impressive to get her attention.

Dumbledore raised his hands for silence. "Yes, welcome, Madame Dupont. Lastly, any student caught roaming out of bounds at night will face a week's detention and a loss of fifty house points. It is for your own safety that this harsh rule-

BANG

The doors to the Great Hall slammed open and in stalked two men. They carried walking sticks and were bedecked in spotless, gold-trimmed, black robes of immeasurable quality. One man she recognized as Draco's father. The other had yellowish blonde hair and a small upturned nose. It reminded her of… ugh. Pansy had just blown a kiss to her father.

"Halt!" cried the statue… but the men kept walking.

The entire Hall gasped as the statue drew a giant mace from its saddle and turned to surely decapitate the two men, but Dumbledore quickly held up his hand and the centaur became immobile once more.

The men strode up to the Head table, pompously swinging the canes they obviously didn't need. They began to argue with the Headmaster in quiet yet heated voices. The old man nodded and smiled which seemed to infuriate the younger men. Malfoy raised his cane and jerked it backwards towards the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore's twinkling eyes turned steely and his smile evaporated. He rose, gestured for the men to follow, and swiftly left the Hall.

"What do you think that was about?" asked Hermione.

"Dunno," said Ginny, shrugging.

"Don't care," moaned Harry, her thoughts reverting back to Alice.

"Gugh," mumbled Ron, eyes fixated on Madame Dupont.

0000

Review now! : )

Cutting this chapter off. I didn't want you all waiting too long with a cliffy.

Check out my profile for a link to this story's Fan-Art page. Contains some NSFW content.

How will a dead Filch and his Veela replacement change the world?

I realize the possessions don't quite adhere with canon. But it's much more interesting and realistic this way I think. Canon CoS has so many holes and conflicting ideas: like the portraits. How did they not see Ginny attack people? How did they not see her paint on the wall? And the ghosts: How did Myrtle not see Ginny open the Chamber... as it was really weeks before the Deathday party when the basilisk was released? How did the basilisk actually get out of the pipes? How did myrtle not notice it exiting and entering the one entrance to the chamber? Anyway I try to fill them in as best I can but I'm bound to miss some.

When Riddle talks about Ginny at the end of the book he mentions how long it took for her to stop trusting her diary, how weak she was, how she never told her brothers that she had long gaps in her memory just because they would "tease her." It didn't really fit with her character. So I eliminated memory of the possessions completely in order to avoid going down that rabbit hole. It fits with my mind magic motif. Let's just say that Tom is more eager to control the situation because Harry is so close to Ginny, thus he has to erase memories of the aftermath of the possessions… which explains things nicely.

As my sexuality, which shouldn't matter, has been questioned at least fifteen times, it's time to announce on the big board. Yes. I'm bi and proud. Now stop asking.