Disclaimer: I am not JKR and therefore do not own anything you recognise here.
Updated: 09 November 2014
"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Neville and Harry as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his House if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home…"
"I don't know why." said Harry with the same air of aggressiveness that she usually had when Ron judged someone by the house they were sorted into. "I get the whole house rivalry thing but it has really gone too far, people are stupid and just assume that if some of the house is evil then all of it must be. I actually like some of the Slytherins."
Neville silently agreed but he blamed it on people like Snape and Malfoy and the people who didn't reprimand them when they did something wrong.
So caught up in his musings of Snape and what he would do to him if he thought he could get away with it, Neville was a shocked to find out that Ron was talking to him and Harry had disappeared.
"... Er... right." said Neville when it became clear Ron wanted a response, he just hoped that it fit with whatever Ron had said.
"Come on then" Ron replied. Neville sighed in relief and followed his friend down the corridor.
Neville was quite confused when they passed the stairs leading to the great hall, he had never even heard of Ron passing up the opportunity to eat food before. It was only when they turned around a corner to face the wall bearing the message "The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened." that he realised the direction the conversation must have taken.
"Can't hurt to have a poke around," said Ron as he walked up to the message and peered at it. Having being involved with the stone last year Neville was of the opinion that it in fact could hurt to 'Have a poke around.' "This looks different than paint, there is no bumpy-ness, it's like they just turned the stone a different colour."
"Bumpy-ness?" asked Neville, usually he didn't ask such dangerous questions but in this case he simply couldn't stop himself.
"Yeah, Bumpy-ness." Ron replied waspishly. Neville could see an argument coming on but didn't see a way he could avoid it, Ron could be very stubborn when it came to things like this and dropping it wasn't an option either as his initial remark would be seen as argument enough in Ron's eyes. Fortunately a voice from behind him distracted Ron from defending his made-up word.
"Have you found anything?" it was Hermione. "I heard you talking about it and wanted to come along, I just had to get rid of Lavender first."
"Well there is some scorch marks here... and here." said Neville bending down.
"Oh! Come and look at this!" said Hermione after a few seconds. "This is funny…"
Neville got up and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Hermione was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.
"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Hermione wonderingly.
"No," said Neville, "Have you, Ron? Ron?"
He looked over his shoulder. Ron was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.
"What's up?" said Neville.
"I — don't — like — spiders," said Ron tensely. Ron was afraid of spiders?
"I never knew that," said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. "You've used spiders in Potions loads of times…"
"I don't mind them dead," said Ron, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move…"
Hermione giggled, which Neville thought was quite insensitive but then again Ron was usually the same with her.
"It's not funny," said Ron, fiercely. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my — my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick. … You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and …"
He broke off, shuddering. Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Neville said, "Do you remember anything else about Halloween? Other than Harry and Dumbledore standing there." Neville briefly wondered why Harry wasn't with them or why she hadn't told them what had happened and why she was with Dumbledore in the corridor in the first place but he assumed it had already been discussed and it was probably why Harry had left them. She had quite a temper when she wanted.
"Yeah," said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "There was loads of water. It was about level with this door."
He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned.
"What's the matter?" said Neville.
"Can't go in there," said Ron gruffly. "That's a girls' toilet."
"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there," said Hermione, standing up and coming over. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place."
"Who's Moaning Myrtle?" asked Neville.
"A ghost of a student who died here, she haunts these toilets so nobody goes here."
"She haunts a toilet?" said Ron disbelievingly.
Hermione just nodded and, ignoring the large OUT OF ORDER sign, she opened the door.
It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Neville had ever set foot in. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror was a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.
Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off toward the end stall. When she reached it she said, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"
Neville and Ron went to look. Moaning Myrtle was a squat ghost of a girl with a glum, half-hidden behind lank hair and thick, pearly spectacles and she was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.
"This is a girls' bathroom," she said, eyeing Ron and Neville suspiciously. "They're not girls."
"No," Hermione agreed. "I just wanted to show them how — er — nice it is in here."
She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.
"You didn't see anything on Halloween did you? Only a cat was attacked outside your door..." Neville left the question hanging.
"No I wasn't paying attention," said Myrtle dramatically. "I went to Nearly-Headless-Nick's Deathday party but Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm — that I'm —"
"Already dead," said Ron helpfully.
Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight, although from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.
Hermione shrugged wearily and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle. … Come on, let's go."
"At least we know where the water came from now." said Neville.
"We do?" asked Ron.
"Yeah, Myrtle." said Neville nodding his head.
"How can she manipulate things like that?" Hermione asked as she closed the door and they started towards the great hall "I thought ghosts were unable to move things."
Ron and Neville shrugged. Neville hadn't even noticed, but now that he thought about it he wondered how Professor Binns marked their work.
"It's Hogwarts" the three of them jumped and spun around and, sat on Filtch's chair, was Professor Dumbledore. "The ambient magic here grants them some amount of substance that they would not have elsewhere" He seemed completely at ease, as if he frequently sat there watching groups of boys and girls walk in and out of Myrtle's bathroom.
Hermione had gone stiff, Ron was now a nice shade of red and Neville felt like he was about to faint... if this got back to his grandmother...
"I trust you got the information you required from our past student?" he got three rather shaky nods "Oh, good! I trust that if you find out anything of worth that you will let me know?" another three shaky nods "In that case I wish you luck with your investigation" and with that he got up and left.
"That was unexpected" said Neville when he finally regained the use of his voice.
"Yeah..." said Ron, still slightly dazed. Hermione still hadn't moved a muscle.
It was turning out to be quite an unusual week.
-One Letter Different-
Harry woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. She was nervous, partly because she had never played in front of a crowd before... but also because she was more than a little afraid of Oliver's reaction if they lost. Harry did not think he was fanatic enough to resort to physical or magical retribution... yet... but that did not mean she thought it was beyond him to triple their practises. In fact it was surprising he hadn't already, although Harry did see him arguing with Professor McGonagall a few weeks before... perhaps he had tried and she had put her foot down.
After half an hour of lying there with her insides churning, she got up, dressed, went down to breakfast and waited for the rest of the Gryffindor team to traipse in and huddle around her at the long, empty table. As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Her fellow second years ran up to Harry to wish her luck. Harry knew Ches and Hannah would even though she wasn't of their house but it was the other Gryffindors that surprised her, Neville, Ron and Hermione all wished her luck despite her being short with them the past week.
Harry hadn't told them anything about what had happened on Halloween, she had told Ches but she didn't count... she didn't hide anything from Ches. Ches had tried to convince her that she wasn't going mad but even in the wizarding world hearing voices wasn't a good sign and Harry simply couldn't bear the odd looks she knew she would get from her housemates.
She knew that if she went to the Headmaster he would probably be able to tell her what she had heard but there was always a chance that Dumbledore had watched the memory and still not heard anything and if she insisted she had he would have her committed, or whatever wizards did to crazy people.
It was not the fact she was crazy that scared her, she had always known that. She just couldn't take everyone else finding out.
But this wasn't the time thinking about her lack of sanity. Oliver was trying to prep the team while ignoring the twin's comments that were making the rest of the team laugh.
Harry looked round the rather cramped changing room at her thirteen other teammates, knowing full well that seven of them probably wouldn't get to play, her counterpart on the second team particularly. David Mills, the smallest seventh year in the school, was looking around the room, not even trying to listen to Oliver, as if he was wondering if there was a point to him even being there.
"...and that is why we simply can't lose this match!" Oliver finished with a flourish; he looked around at their blank faces and sighed "None of you were listening, were you?"
"Did you want us to?" asked a clearly surprised Fred.
Oliver looked like he wanted to retort but thought better of it and just said "Let's go."
As they walked out onto the field, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather a lot harder than was necessary.
"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three … two … one …"
With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch and keeping an eye on the Slytherin seeker, another seventh year, Terrence Higgs. The importance of the two seekers had decreased this year as the twins had convinced Professor McGonagall to lower the amount of points the snitch was worth down to one hundred.
But before she could start her search of the stadium a bludger came pelting towards her, she banked right to avoid it and George sped after it. George hit the bludger towards the nearby Terrence Higgs but before it even got halfway there it turned and rocketed back towards Harry.
Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward another Slytherin. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.
Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the field. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind her. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible…
Fred was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.
"Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after her once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.
It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto her face, which made her disorientated. She didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, "Gryffindor lead, fifty points to twenty —"
They were winning but it didn't sound like they would gain the one hundred point lead they would need, for Harry's role in the match to become unneeded, any time soon.
Meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to her on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.
"Someone's — tampered — with — this — Bludger —" Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry.
"We need time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time.
Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.
"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "I can hardly see a thing above the line of the posts. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring? In fact, where have you been all match?"
"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it — it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."
"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then…" said Wood, anxiously.
Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, Harry could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in her direction.
"Look Oliver, I can hardly see the snitch let alone catch it you need to put me on the bench." Harry said, watching Oliver closely, waiting for his inevitable explosion.
"Actually I have a better idea." said an oddly dry Lilith from behind them, Oliver turned to her with a pleading look. "Place Katie on the bench, have Harry take her place and have David as the seeker." It really was strange what two months of people listening to your advice could do your confidence; Lilith would never have ordered Oliver around like that at the beginning of the year. "Use the fact they fixed he bludger to your advantage, if you know it is following you, you just have to make sure that they are between you and the bludger and you do have the fastest broom on the pitch."
Oliver considered this for just over half a second before agreeing. He rarely disagreed with Lilith anymore; he knew her tactics were far superior. After a quick dissection with Madame Hooch, they were back in the air and Harry started her new role as 'The Human Bludger Magnet' and if Harry was honest with herself, she found it rather fun.
After five minutes of play the two Slytherin beaters had been reduced to defenders for their team, it took both of them to keep the rouge bludger off their players, owing to the speed of Harry's broom, and they couldn't use it to attack the Gryffindors as it just turned back towards Harry. This of course left the other bludger free for Fred and George to play with without interruption, something they used to great effect.
In the end Terrence Higgs did beat David to the snitch but with Gryffindor's One Hundred and twenty point lead it didn't make a difference. Unfortunately for Harry, however, the fact that the game was over did not stop the bludger from attempting to murder her like it usually would.
Harry blinked, the rain falling onto her face waking her up. She tried to sit and immediately regretted it; agony shot down her back and her left arm felt unnaturally heavy.
Her eyes flicked around and saw that the Gryffindor team had surrounded her. All of them looked worried even Oliver, which was rather impressive seeing that he was still smiling at the same time.
"Back away, back away!" called out Lockhart's irritating voice.
"Oh, no, not you," Harry moaned.
"Doesn't know what she's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors now gathering around her. "Not to worry, Harry. I'll fix you right up."
"No!" said Harry. "I'm fine like this, thanks…"
She tried to reach for someone until she realised the reason her left arm felt heavy was because her forearm was broken, with the pain from her back addling her mind somewhat she could only wonder why she didn't feel that pain as well. She heard a familiar clicking noise nearby but it took her a little while to realise what it was.
"I don't want a photo of this, Colin, thank you anyway." she said rather politely.
"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times —"
"I don't think Madam Pomfrey likes others healing students, Gilderoy." said Harry. She giggled slightly and whispered "Gilderoy." again. For some reason that was a very funny name.
"I think she should really go to the Hospital wing, Professor." said Ron, who had just pushed to the front of the crowd and was trying to place himself between Harry and Lockhart. "As Harry says Madame Pomfrey doesn't really like other people treating the students."
Through the thicket of legs around her, Harry spotted Fred and George Weasley, wrestling the rogue Bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight, she giggled and tried to reach for it, accidentally moving her back as she did. The pain that shot through her this time cleared her mind slightly and she eventually came to the conclusion that letting Lockhart cast spells at her was probably a bad idea.
"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves and nudging Ron backwards slightly.
"No — don't —" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry who could only throw up her uninjured arm and shut her eyes.
There was a large bang and then everything fell silent.
-One Letter Different-
Harry groaned and opened her eyes; the white ceiling of the hospital wing swam into view.
"Welcome back, Harry." said the familiar voice of Neville.
"Ugh, how long have I been out?" Harry asked, not really sure if she wanted to know the answer.
"About four hours," Neville replied "Madame Pomfrey fixed you up right away but she wanted you to wake up naturally, she is still working on Lockhart though..."
"What?" Harry asked "What happened to Lockhart?"
"Well, when he pointed his wand at you Ron pulled his wand out and tried to shield you. It probably would have worked if he had actually known how to properly cast one; it reflected most of his spell back as it was." Neville chuckled "Lockhart's own spell hits him and he goes flying, which is when Dumbledore shows up..."
"Dumbledore?" Harry interrupted.
"Yeah, he appeared in a pillar of flame with his phoenix on his shoulder. I think he cast diagnostic charms over the two of you as he told everyone not to worry about you but that Lockhart had turned all his internal organs into pieces of fruit..." he shrugged "Dumbledore and Pomfrey took him behind that curtain with a Saint Mungos' healer," he nodded towards the other end of the ward "They haven't come out since."
Harry wasn't too sure how to feel about that, he was an idiot but she didn't want him to die.
"The others wanted to stay with you as well," Neville started, tearing Harry's concentration away from the curtained bed "But Pomfrey said only one of us could stay, we rolled die and I won so..." he shrugged again. "Susan was really annoyed at that but it is probably for the best - she may have gone and finished Lockhart off by now."
"You're leaving Ron with a load of angry girls? You're not a very good friend are you?" Harry laughed.
Neville chuckled but shook his head "Ron could hang out with Dean or Shamus but he had to go to Diagon Alley to get a new wand, his broke in the explosion."
"What?" said Harry, suddenly more alert "I should pay for that, I am.."
"The school is paying for it," said Neville, cutting Harry off "McGonagall told me that she was going to go with them and pay for it as it was the fault of a teacher that his wand broke in the first place."
Harry relaxed at that, putting extra monetary worries on the Weasley family was the last thing she wanted to do.
"So, when can I get out of here?" Harry asked giving the curtained bed a quick glance.
"Not until tomorrow, Pomfrey wants you to stay so she can monitor you." Neville said, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, that's not going to happen." she got up and collected her things from the bedside table before heading towards the door. She only got about halfway there, however, before she heard a voice call out from behind her.
"Miss. Potter." it was not just her name; it was a whole sentence. "Get back in your bed." Madame Pomfrey said, coming out from behind the curtain.
"You didn't honestly think you could get away did you?" asked Neville from his chair; he hadn't even moved a muscle.
Harry embraced her childish side and merely pouted. Neville laughed at her.
Madame Pomfrey seemed satisfied after waving her wand at Harry for a few minutes, told Harry to stay where she was and walked off to her office. It wasn't long before Dumbledore and the healer Neville had mentioned also exited the curtain.
"I am sorry headmaster," said the man in lime green robes "I have been working in spell damage for nearly forty years, but I have never seen self-sustaining transfiguration before. I am well out of my depth here."
"As am I," said Dumbledore surprising Harry "This is one of the greatest advancements of transfiguration ever. People have been trying for decades to obtain the same result as this."
"Yes, it is a shame he would die if you attempted to run magical tests to see how it works." said the healer, Dumbledore didn't seem to hear him, "I have to go, but I will make sure to put in the request for anti-magic handcuffs, binding his core like you have is only a quick fix."
Dumbledore nodded his approval, "Thank you David, it has been a pleasure, as always." David, as he was apparently called blushed slightly, mumbled a quick goodbye and left the hospital wing.
"Ah Harriet," Harry withheld her wince, "You are awake. Good, good."
"Sir is Lockhart going to be ok?" Harry asked despite herself.
"Yes, perfectly, on the basis that he never comes into contact with any form of magic ever again... including his own." Dumbledore didn't look even remotely concerned about this fact. "Do not worry about it Harriet, it was his own fault and honestly, it couldn't have happened to a more deserving person."
Neville mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Malfoy" but he didn't correct the headmaster.
Harry on the other hand was going to ask what he was talking about but he started talking again anyway.
"Every time Gilderoy comes in contact with magic, be it his own magical core or the ambient magic in the castle, all of his organs turn into a random assortment of fruit. I don't know how or why and therefore I am not able to fix it." Dumbledore sighed "I just wish it transfigured something less vital to his survival I would love to know how that works." He trailed off looking far beyond Harry and Neville as his eyes slid out of focus. With a seemingly inhuman effort he pulled himself back to the present. "And now I have to go and figure out what I am supposed to do about defence against the dark arts. We have been rather unlucky this year... the professors usually last until Christmas at least." And with that he walked out the hospital wing leaving two rather stunned teens.
-One Letter Different-
Hours and hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small, confused yelp: something cold and wet was pressed against her forehead. Then, with a thrill of horror, she realized that it was a sponge and it was being pressed against her by somebody in the dark.
"Get off!" she said loudly, and then, "Dobby!"
The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose.
"Harry Potter stayed in school," he whispered miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah miss, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why won't Harry Potter go back home where she will be safe?"
Harry heaved herself up on her pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away.
"What're you doing here?" she said. "And why do you keep insisting I go home?"
Dobby's lip trembled and Harry huffed in frustration.
"Tell me dobby, this is serious." she said fiercely. "If you know something about what is going on – about some kind of danger in the school then you need to tell me, right now, before I start cursing you."
Dobby smiled weakly.
"Dobby is used to death threats, miss. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."
He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore; looking so pathetic that Harry felt her anger ebb away in spite of herself.
Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make —"
"Your Bludger?" said Harry, anger rising once more. "What d'you mean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me?"
"Not kill you, miss, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, miss! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"
"What?" asked Harry angrily. "What is going on that would be worse than being so badly injured that not even magic can fix it? Why are you doing this Dobby?"
"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If she knew what she means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, miss! We house-elves were treated like vermin, miss! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, miss," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase.
"But mostly, miss, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, miss, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, miss. … And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more —"
Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from her bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby …"
"So there is a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered. "And — did you say it's been opened before? Tell me, Dobby!"
She seized the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the water jug. "But I'm not Muggle-born — how can I be in danger from the Chamber?"
"Ah, miss, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen — go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, miss, 'tis too dangerous —"
"Who is it, Dobby?" Harry said, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?"
"Dobby can't, miss, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed the elf. "Go home, Harry Potter, go home!"
"I'm not going anywhere!" said Harry fiercely. "One of my best friends is Muggle-born; she'll be first in line if the Chamber really has been opened —"
"Harry Potter risks her own life for her friends!" moaned Dobby in a kind of miserable ecstasy that quite frankly terrified Harry. "So noble! So valiant! But she must save himself, she must, Harry Potter must not —"
Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering. Harry heard it, too. There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside.
"Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack, and Harry's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. She slumped back into bed, his eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as the footsteps drew nearer.
Next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.
"Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight. Harry lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. She heard urgent voices, and then Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. She heard a sharp intake of breath.
"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed.
"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs."
"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," said Professor McGonagall. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."
Harry's stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, she raised himself a few inches so she could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.
It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.
"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think … If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate — who knows what might have —"
The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip.
"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" said Professor McGonagall eagerly.
Dumbledore didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera.
"Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey.
A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. Harry, three beds away, caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic.
"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted …"
"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.
"It means," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."
Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.
"But, Albus … surely … who?"
"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Colin. "The question is, how. …"
And from what Harry could see of Professor McGonagall's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than Harry did, but Harry could no longer sit still.
The simple fact was: Colin had been coming to see her.
She quietly slipped out of bed and approached the trio.
"Headmaster?" she said startling both Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey.
"Am I to assume, Harriet," said Dumbledore as he slowly tore his eyes away from Colin to focus on Harry. "That you have had another talk with our rather elusive friend Dobby."
"Yes sir." Harry said wondering how he knew.
"I thought you might, after everything I heard about your first Quidditch match. If you would share you memory of this encounter I would be very grateful." He said, calmly conjuring a vial and holding it out to her.
"Of course, sir," Harry said, withdrawing her memory and placing it in the vial. "Anything I can do to help."
"Thank you." he slipped the memory into one of his pockets. "I shall do my best to keep you informed in this matter." And with that, and a nod to each of his colleagues he turned and strode out of the hospital wing.
Not twenty-four hours ago, Harry had won her first game of Quidditch, but looking at the curtains that housed Lockhart and the stone like creature that was once a boy with limitless enthusiasm, Harry could say in all honesty that she wished the whole day would reset itself.
Dobby's speech was entirely from the book - he just didn't want to say anymore, no matter what I tried.
Danni xxx