Disclaimer: If you now it, I do not own it as it came from Chamber of Secrets by JKR.

Edited and reloaded - 16 July 2013

Stealing Glory

By the next morning, the whole castle knew about the departure of Hagrid and Dumbledore. The next morning also began Operation Steal Diary from Ginny Weasley.

Draco attempted to talk to her.

She ignored him.

Harry sputtered at her.

She turned red and ran away.

Draco was stealthy and got her bag.

The diary wasn't in her bag.

Harry snuck into the girl's dormitory.

He was almost caught, but managed to escape. But there was no diary within the first year girl's dormitory.

After a two weeks of attempting to steal the diary off Ginny, both boys gave up. Either Ginny had hidden the diary very well, or she simply did not have it.

Draco yanked at his hair. Harry joined in.

"What are we going to do?" Harry worried one afternoon while they sat in a corner of the Common Room on their own.

"I have no idea. We've tried everything we can think of," Draco pointed out. "She doesn't act too strange any more—"

"Other not looking at you," Harry offered.

"— and she is always here— "

"We're all always here."

"— So, either she doesn't have it, or she's hidden it somewhere we've yet to look. Like on her person."

The two boys gazed out over the room and fell into silence.

"Do you want to tackle her and search her like they do on telly?" Harry asked, looking almost hopeful.

Draco blinked at Harry several times. Harry launched into an explanation of some program called Crimewatch. Draco wasn't sure how the program mostly about murder related to tackling Ginny and searching her pockets, but he let Harry talk.

The only person in the whole castle who seemed to be enjoying the intense atmosphere of terror and suspicion was Theodore Nott. He strutted around the school as if he had been appointed King of the Castle. Draco was pretty sure he knew what Nott was pleased about, as last time around after both Hagrid and Dumbledore had been tossed out of the school, Draco had been pleased.

And had strutted around with his nose in the air with a smug smile.

This time— not so much.

The only thing Draco was hoping for was a tidy end to the entire mess. He was still slogging his way through the time travel book Atlanta the First had suggested. He was sure the reason for the whole trip to Hagrid's and Harry's continue need to follow the spiders had something to do with Time herself.

Draco, though, didn't know why.

Why did Time want them to follow the spiders? If indeed Hagrid's hairy spider was living in the Forbidden Forest, what good would it do to speak to it? Last time, if Potter and Weasel needed information on what happened, it made sense to talk to the spider. As, by this time Granger was Petrified so the two idiots were up the river without a paddle.

But, this time around, it wasn't the snake. (If it was even the snake last time, as Draco did not actually know what happened.)

"I've never seen any spiders fleeing," Harry said one afternoon while he and Draco were in Herbology. He poked at his dead looking plant they were supposed to be pruning. Draco hadn't actually caught the name of the plant, his mind a million years from what he was doing on autopilot with his hands.

"Nor I."

"But, I still really want to follow the spiders," Harry hissed, looking alarmed.

Draco frowned, then looked up to see what had cause Harry's alarm. Approaching the table Harry and Draco were working at were Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillian. Abbot sent MacMillian a look as she set her plant down across from Harry. MacMillion settled in across from Draco, oddly not staring in the creepy way he'd done before.

"Hi, Harry. Draco," she greeted, a sunny smile painting her face. She elbowed MacMillion in the ribs.

"Oh, er, I just wanted to say, Harry, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Hermione Granger and I apologize for all the stuff I was saying about you. We're all in the same boat now, eh?"

Harry blinked.

MacMillion held out a pudgy hand for Harry to shake. Harry shook it.

"So, who do you think it is? That Nott character is pretty cheery since this last attack," MacMillion said, breaking dead twigs off his plant. "He is in Slytherin. He could be the Heir of Slytherin."

"Clever," Draco grumbled, angrily snapping twigs off his plant.

"I don't think so," Harry offered. "I doubt it is actually the Heir of Slytherin."

Draco paused, wondering what Harry was doing. Harry was up to something. He was wearing his I-Am-Going-to-do-Something-Unexpected-That-Will-Ca use-Draco-to-go-Bald-Before-His-Time face.

"Who do you think it is?" Abbot asked, her eyes round.

"Voldemort."

Abbot knocked her plant over with her jerk of surprise. MacMillion sputtered, throwing twigs and dead leaves in Draco's face. It was clear the class was eavesdropping on them, as there were several similar reactions at Harry's announcement. Harry, meanwhile, appeared not to notice and continued pruning his plant wearing a rather pleased expression.

"Makes sense. Voldemort could speak to snakes. He was in Slytherin. He was also known to boast about the fact he was the last living relative of Salazar Slytherin," Harry went on, his voice getting louder.

Where was the teacher?

"How do you know?" Abbot whispered.

Harry glanced up. "I researched Voldemort. I also know for a fact, Salazar Slytherin did not leave a monster in our school to kill Muggleborns. The whole legend of the Chamber of Secrets is stupid."

Draco stopped working and stared at Harry. Harry continued to prune his plant, but there was twitch at the corner of his mouth. He was working really hard not to grin. After a few more snips at his plant, he put a neutral expression on his face and looked up at Abbot.

"Salazar Slytherin was a Muggleborn himself," Harry announced.

There was a collective intake of breath from the whole green house.

"Harry, how on Earth do you know that?" Draco demanded.

"I read it in a book," Harry replied airily, going back to pruning his plant. "That was why he was so suspicious of Muggles. He grew up in a village where he was the only wizard. The Muggles were mean to him because he did strange things. They thought he was a freak. It wasn't until he met Gryffindor when he was a teenager did he realize there was nothing wrong with him."

"What book did you read this in?" someone demanded.

Harry smiled that damn mischievous smile. "The Journal of Salazar Slytherin."

Draco kicked Harry. Harry failed to notice.

"Once I finish it, I'll return it to the library," Harry offered. "Then anyone can read it for themselves."

Silence blanketed the classroom. Harry stopped pruning and set his scissors down, staring at his half dead plant with a slight frown on his face.

"What is going on in here? Why is it so quiet?" Professor Sprout demanded, entering the greenhouse from where ever she had been.

Everyone got back to work.

"I translated the journal into English," Harry announced to Draco.

They were sequestered on Draco's bed, curtains shut and every silence and anti-eavesdropping spell Draco could think of cast on the bed.

"When?"

"After Hermione was Petrified. You were in a sort of daze, so I snuck down there, grabbed the one he stated he was a Muggleborn and used this awesome spell I found when I was doing my Charms essay from before Easter."

Harry reached into his book bag and pulled out a Charms book. He handed it to Draco, instructing him to open to page forty-seven. Draco did and saw a spell he'd never heard of. He flipped a few more pages and realized he had heard of most of them, but there quite a few he had never seen before.

"It's not hard. Actually, really simple to perform. It works like translation program or something," Harry said, sounding exciting. "All you do is cast it, tell it what language you want it in, and it translates it into whatever form you wanted. I picked book."

Harry pulled another book out. Draco took it and examined it carefully. It looked like a book— brand new, bound in green leather, and inlayed with sliver lettering.

"This says it was Translated by T.R. DeVinette," Draco said, eyes reading the name in silver lettering on the cover.

"Of course. It's his spell. Any thing you translate will say it was translated by him," Harry said as if Draco was stupid.

Draco got a strange feeling, but couldn't exactly place it. He felt that he knew that name. It felt familiar and was on the tip of his tongue.

"It took a few days to translate it fully, but I've already read it in Parseltounge, so I know what it says and didn't mind the wait. I was waiting for a the perfect moment to let it be known I had the book and today when Ernie and Hannah came over and began talking, it felt right."

Draco flipped the book open and found a forward written by T.R. DeVinette, stating the original was a long lost journal discovered by an unnamed source. It stated the journal was was originally written in Parseltounge. T.R. DeVinette goes on to state he hopes the fact Slytherin wasn't a Muggleborn hater will allow Parseltounges to be able to come out of the dark and the Dark reputation around the House of Slytherin lift.

That was something Draco could agree with. Not all Slytherins were evil, yet somehow the house had wound up being viewed by outsiders as a House of Evil-Doers.

"How did DeVinette write a forward?"

"Oh, we wrote that together," Harry replied. "I guess the spell sends him a notice when you use it. He wrote me and we wrote that together, but I didn't want my name on it."

"Did you tell him who you were?"

"No. I used the fake name I used with Riddle," Harry said, handing Draco a letter. It was written on strange looking paper. Written, actually, wasn't the right word.

"What is this?"

"I think he used a typewriter," Harry offered. "Or a computer, maybe?"

Draco stared at the odd lettering and traced his finger over it. It didn't feel like print he was used to.

"Huh," Draco said. "How come you decided to trust his spell with the journal?"

"Oh, the he doesn't see what is being translated," Harry said. "Did you read the letter? I mean, I thought it was just a spell, so I used it. I didn't know it alerted him it was used. I guess he gets paid or something, but he didn't make me pay him. He was interested in the title, and asked me what it was about. Since I want it to be public knowledge, I wrote him back and told him. Instead of paying, he just wanted to help me write a forward. He offered to translate the rest of the journals after I'm done with school. Personally, not using the spell."

Draco frowned, reading the letter carefully. He turned the page and found the second one. The tone changed from formal, asking for payment and such, to excited.

"Did you tell him where you found it?"

"Er… I said I found it in a trunk of old things my parents left behind."

Draco snorted.

"I kind of told him my story, but left out the whole Harry Potter aspect, seeing as he thinks I'm just some kid named Dan. It's kind of nice not being Harry Potter. He thinks I'm just a normal kid."

Draco looked back at the Charms book open in his lap. Sure enough, in tiny print under the spell description it stated once you used the spell, you'd be issued a bill from T.R. DeVinette. It was the same for several of the spells in the book Harry had handed him before the translated journal. Draco set the letters aside and began reading further in the Charms book.

There were copy written spells? Huh. It made sense, as Draco knew Spellsmiths made a pretty good living. Draco had assumed they were only paid to invent and after invention, the spell was free to public domain. Not the case, it seemed.

"Harry…I don't know what to say."

Harry grinned. "I think this will, well, help calm the whole thing down. Voldemort thrives of fear, right? Creating it, nurturing it, right?"

Draco nodded his head. "So, in putting out there that Slytherin was actually a Muggleborn, will make them wonder why he's attacking them?"

"It will tell them Medusa's real purpose and how understandable that Slytherin was fearful of Muggles. And when taken in historical context, it totally makes sense!"

Harry looked so pleased with himself, Draco had no idea what to say. Or it could be just because he was in shock.

Harry snuck out the following night. The next morning, Madam Pince found a book on her desk, a note typed up and signed by a T.R. DeVinette requesting the book be added to the library. By the time breakfast started, the waiting list for the book was over a year long.