Book Two

Being a continued exploration of the differences in Mr. Potter's life pursuant to the events described in the preceding book.

Harry Potter, all related characters, and the original Harry Potter narrative are properties of J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 5

Once Again

Time passed easily for the next month or so, although Snape took over Lupin's class for a week while the shabby professor was out with some exotic disease or other. Someone raided the Thunder Room in early October, and the Twins swore it hadn't been them, but no-one really believed them. If not for the total lack of casualties - the raid had occurred at night, while most of the students were in their beds - they might have blamed Sirius Black.

Ginny and Luna installed themselves in Hagrid's Friday teatimes as regulars, and - since Hagrid had moved his teatime meetings from his cottage to the entry hall of Hogwarts - frequently had students of various years dropping in to ask Hagrid or Hermione or Neville or Ron for advice with animals, magical theory, Herbology, or some variety of tactical puzzler.

Ginny had received a very loud red letter from her mother, which was simultaneously confused, berating, and approving. She'd taken to life as a Ravenclaw quite happily, and was enjoying the opportunity to live where her brothers couldn't reach her. Fred and George, of course, had pranked her half a dozen times by the second week, but they were legends.

"Bloody Dementors - 'scuse my language," rumbled Hagrid, regaling them with recent events outside the castle walls, "they've been eating the chickens, say they need 'sustenance' an' they can't get any through the castle walls."

"That sounds like a good thing to me," Harry told him. "I'd rather not faint halfway through Potions."

Ron elbowed him. "Harry, mate, you keep ribbing yourself about the fainting, how are we supposed to get any digs in?"

"Glittery hair?"

Ginny chuckled nervously. She'd been jittery around Harry since the Twins' last prank, but they insisted it had been a standard short-sheeting bed and a careful Confundus charm to make her think she'd grown to giant size.

"I rather liked that," Luna stated, staring - as usual - at an apparently empty point in space. "Perhaps I could learn how to make a Patronus to glitter for me."

Harry sighed. His hair had stopped glittering once he'd managed a steady Patronus charm; he could produce a solid shield of silver light, and he'd figured out how to push his happy memories through it, making a pulse that would probably confuse a Dementor for a fraction of a second. His friends - Draco included, and Greg and Vincent were making steady progress - could only make fragile films of energy, scarcely enough to delay a determined Dementor.

"We haven't really mastered the charms yet," Harry told her. "I'm sure you could join us, we don't even have any Dementors in the room or anything." They hadn't tested their Patronus charms against Dementors at all - but from Dumbledore's speech, Lupin's attitude, and Snape, Harry knew it was only a matter of time before something went hideously wrong.

"Lupin says they make animals once we really get the incantation," Ron observed. "Hope mine's a lion or a dragon or something."

Ginny choked on her tea, spraying it across the table towards Ron. Harry had noticed that, given a moment's notice, Ginny preferred to aim accidents at her siblings.

Ron glared at her. "What?"

"Nothing," mumbled Ginny, setting down her cup. "I just thought you'd be more of a rat person."

Harry winced. Ron had been rather touchy on the topic of Rats since the Thunder Raid, with Scabbers missing.

"One to talk," Ron retorted.

Teatime devolved into violence rather rapidly that Friday.

"Er," said somebody high-pitched. Harry did a quick catalogue of squeaky people he knew - Dobby, Schor, Ginny, an extremely nervous Aunt Petunia, Ron after the Twins pranked him with Giftblumen a week ago.

Harry decided to turn around and see who was chasing his invisible self down the halls of Hogwarts at night. "Er," he echoed, lowering his hood. "Hi, Ginny."

Ginny had somehow convinced Fred to give her his Airsight goggles. She'd left off the demonic mask of torment, thankfully. She stood there, staring at Harry's floating head, and said absolutely nothing.

"Enjoying the emptiness?" Harry was still trying to catch Fred and George, but those fancy goggles they'd invented made it far too easy for them to evade his attempts at invisible subterfuge. He kept the Cloak on to avoid Filch and other authority figures. Ginny still wasn't responding.

Harry was just starting to worry that Ginny was actually a clever wax statue and the Twins were sneaking up behind him with something unmentionable when she squeaked out "Wangodedaume?"

Harry blinked. He was pretty sure whatever Ginny had just said didn't mean anything, but you never knew with girls. "Er," he said again, glancing behind for hidden Weasleys. "What?"

Ginny took a deep breath. "W-Wangodedaume?" she repeated, more quietly than before. "And - and Luna," she gasped, blushing furiously.

Or is it? wondered Harry, who had seen more than a few furious blushes before. "Um," he agreed, still quite confused. "I'm hunting your brothers at the moment. Maybe tomorrow?"

There was a quiet smack as Ginny's hand met her forehead. "The dead dance," she explained, which wasn't much of an explanation. "Or the Ball of All Hallows, or the Feast of Souls, or the Great Pumpkin's Soiree. On Halloween. Luna and I are going to go talk to dead ghost people and watch them pretend to eat things."

Harry didn't blink, although he probably would have blinked if he hadn't broken his blink reflex training Parseltongue with Snape two nights previous. He considered the concept of ghosts having a feast for a few seconds. "Huh."

Ginny appeared to be holding her breath. She was also holding something behind her back, but that might turn out to be a secret pranking device, and Harry didn't want a repeat of Thursday's bungled ambush on the Twins. He was still tasting purple every time he turned his head to the left.

"Well, alright," said Harry. "If Silver Sea in Silver Stone is going to talk to ghosts, I'd rather not miss it."

"Bwuh?"

"Luna."

"Oh." The confused expression on Ginny's face was adorable.

"Well," Harry told her, pulling his cloak over his head again, "I'll see you around, Shadow Spooker."

He twitched his wand, muttering a minor wind-conjuring hex he'd managed to master, and slipped away while Ginny was trying to figure out if 'Shadow Spooker' was good or bad.

"And here it is!" shouted Lupin, wrenching open the closet door. Ron, having been first in line - Neville had requested the privilege of being last - twisted his secondhand wand and shouted "Riddikulus!" just as they'd been taught, turning the massive, disgustingly hairy venom-dripping spider of terror into a cuddly purple plushie with no fangs at all. He let it climb up his arm, cringing a bit as it nuzzled his face, then laughed out loud.

"Next!" called Lupin. Harry was enjoying himself far too much for a Thursday, and he knew the Boggart would turn into something unmanageable when it got to him, but he couldn't for the life of him think of what it might wind up being. The thing he fears most?

"Riddikulus!" Hermione turned the Letter of Expulsion into a Letter of Explosion, which made lovely fireworks.

The thing I fear most... I've never thought about it, Harry pondered. Death? Nah, it's either blank nothingness or some kind of pre-approved hero afterlife. Probably. Dying?

Seamus converted a Bansidhe into a pop star, which wasn't much of an improvement.

Dying would probably be awful, but it's over quick enough. Embarrasment?

Clouds of lethal poison became mere cloying perfume.

Not really worth the trouble, Harry decided. And as for paparazzi, Colin Creevey's more annoying than scary. So what -

The Boggart was in front of him.

The Boggart was him.

It's like looking into a mirror, thought Harry. Again. He chuckled.

"Supposed to change it before laughing, Harry," Lupin told him, "but good job all the same."

Harry looked a little closer at the Boggart clone. It's me. Why is it me? Why would I be afraid of being me? "I don't understand," he told it.

Harry looked into his own eyes. "I'm alone," it said.

Harry started to get it. I don't like this.

"There's no-one in this world for me. My friends are gone. My enemies are gone. No-one notices my existence."

"Depressed little rotter, isn't he?" Dean noted. "Not like our Harry at all."

Harry didn't hear him. Something about the double's words were stirring fear inside him, and he couldn't think of a way to make it stop being scary.

"My family is dead. I am the last Potter, and there will never be more."

"Alright, Harry, go on, use Riddikulus," Lupin prompted.

I- that's true, I am the last of my House.

His double grinned at him, joyless and hateful. "Hssssssssss" it said, shadow flowing from its eyes, its clothes spreading into tattered robes, its voice pulling Harry into a vivid memory of his parents' death.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry whispered. Then he fainted.

"Alright, Harry, have some chocolate," Lupin told him. He'd only been out a few seconds, from the look of it - Ron had his creepy plush spider on his shoulder again, and everyone else was still in their seats.

"Right, I'm all right, I think it turned into a Dementor when I realized I'm afraid of bad memories," Harry told him, accepting the chocolate. There was some sniggering from his classmages. "What?"

"You've got sparkles all over you, mate," Ron told him.

Harry looked himself over. "Ah, disco cube in a sanitarium," he cursed.

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "Disco... cube?"

"Expecto Patronum," Harry muttered, drawing the sparkles from his body into a short-lived shield. "I like cubes, they're very cubish."

"Very well then," Lupin told him. "We might be able to get you some extra practice on your Patronus charm, since we've got a manageable Dementor substitute here."

Harry shrugged and returned to his seat. The only student left to face the Boggart was Neville - Ron had stuffed the plush spider back into its closet, calling it "creepily cutesy."

"Neville, are you ready to-" Neville nodded, opening the closet door himself. "Well, very good," Lupin approved. "Keep your image firmly in your mind, and be sure to laugh at that Boggart when you've got it on the ropes."

"As you say," Neville replied, walking back to his seat. He put The Memoirs of Herman Stuttle, vol. II on the desk and opened it to page one.

"Neville, I think I missed your battle with the Boggart," Lupin admitted. "I may have blinked. Could you tell us what just happened?"

Neville picked up his book, displaying the title. "There never was a Volume II. The last chapter of Memoirs was Herman's death."

The class edged a collective two inches away from Neville.

"Well," said Lupin, composedly. " I suppose I have to go find another Boggart now, don't I?"

The ghosts' Dead Dance, or whatever it was officially called, was rather exciting for about the first twelve seconds. Then, the novelty of a room filled with ghosts having faded, Harry was supremely distracted by the thought of the possible effects of Patronus charms on ghosts.

"So, Nick," Harry asked, keeping an ear on Watcher of the Unknown and an eye on Windstartler - also known as Luna and Ginny - "what do Dementors do to ghosts?"

Nick eyed him suspiciously. "Nothing whatsoever," he stated with finality. "We keep well clear of those unpleasant creatures."

Harry made a noncommittal noise, looking over the mostly-rotten food for some cheese. Cheese, at least, is supposed to be moldy, and the Ghost Gathering had only managed to put the wrong kind of mold on some of their cheeses.

"I suppose we dread the effect they might have on us, as beings of pure spirit and memory," Nick offered, "though one must admit their presence will keep the Headless Hunt from its usual shenanigans at our little get-together this year."

Harry made an inquisitive sound over a mouthful of Wensleydale. He was half-listening to Luna interrogating a ghost from a girls' bath, by the name of Myrtle - means 'love' in Flower - and hadn't really heard Nick's followup.

Nearly-Headless Nick showed off the reason for his unusual title, and explained something interestingly unimportant about the Headless Horsemen and their insistence on total qualifications in interested applicants.

"Erm," Harry suggested, looking for a graceful exit from the conversation, "why don't you ask the Baron to, ah, 'qualify' you?"

"Ask the Baron to -" Nick's expression of affrontery froze for a moment, then relaxed into a rather familiar look of curious contemplation. "And why not?" he murmured, replacing his head on top of his renowned neck. "Would you mind terribly if I -"

"Go on," Harry told him. He stepped over to Luna and Myrtle as Nick sought out the Bloody Baron and his ghostly sword.

"Ah, Sparkles," Luna wafted, raising a series of questions about her linguistic abilities that shall remain unanswered. "Have you seen where Terror of Darkness went off to? I'm afraid she's been plagued by dreaming walks lately, and can't seem to find her until she awakes."

"What?" Harry took a moment to work out what Luna had said, marveling momentarily at her patience. "Er, no, not sure where Ginny went. Thought she was talking to the snobby fellow with the sort of greenish-looking ghost beard."

Luna raised one eyebrow, eliciting envy from people who can't do that everywhere. "How odd," she noted, not deigning to explain why it would be odd to talk to a ghost with a beard that looked like it ought to look green.

"I know, it's just ghostly silver like always, but it should look green," Harry agreed, completely missing Luna's unstated point. "I think he's a pirate."

Luna sighed.

"Maybe you ought to go look for her?" Myrtle suggested, surprising Harry, who had forgotten she was floating behind him. "Someone might have set another troll loose this year." She chuckled, which was rather disturbing.

"Right," Harry nodded. "It was very strange to meet you, Beloved of the Flowers," he added, trying to shake her insubstantial hand. From the look of Myrtle's face, the feeling was mutual.

Luna rolled her eyes. "Come along then, Sparkles," she told Harry, pulling him from the room.

They met the first Dementor before they even turned a corner. It hissed at them, and Harry was suddenly much less curious about the effects of Dementors and Patronuses on ghosts, and much more interested in the effects of Patronuses on Dementors before I faint again please.

"Expecto Patronum!"

To Harry's mild disappointment, his Patronus didn't burst out in a flash of phoenix fire and burn the Dementor to ashes. Instead, it just got that pretty shield of light effect going.

"At least you're not Sparkles," Luna told him.

"But you just called me-"

"Warden of the Fearful," Luna preempted him. "I believe I'll find more Nargles in Professor Lupin's class than the Ravenclaw Common Room next Tuesday," she added.

Harry's Patronus pulsed, pushing the Dementor against the nearest wall. It hissed again, which sounded surprisingly not-angry to Harry's ears. He pushed it into the wall a little further, so it wouldn't follow them too quickly.

There were about fifteen Dementors between the ghosts' feast and the Great Hall. Luna had warned the ghosts that there were Dementors in the castle - Harry thought he could hear them whisking through the walls as they ran - and by the time Harry and Luna had reached the doors, Dumbledore had routed the rest of the Dark creatures from his castle.

It wasn't until after they'd made headcount that they found Filch, unmoving, his terrified cat trembling in his Petrified arms.

"Who d'you reckon did that to Filch?"

"My money's on Lupin, it's always the Defense instructor."

Students were throwing theories around like monkeys throw certain materials of similar quality. The most prevalent theories involved an ancient Hogwarts legend about 'the Chamber of Secrets,' because of the indelible message scrawled on the wall above Filch. Half of them blamed Sirius Black, claiming he'd probably learned Salazar's secrets in service of Voldemort, although none of that theory's supporters went so far as to name the mostly-dead villain.

"Hermione?" asked Harry, hoping for her views on the topic.

"Yes," Hermione replied.

"Good," interjected Ron, "because I've heard there's a potion that can change people into other people, and we need a decent check for that."

Hermione sighed. "Polyjuice Potion, Ron, it takes over a month to brew and the only one in Hogwarts with the supplies is Snape."

"Right," Ron agreed, "and I wouldn't put it past him to test us by impersonating you."

Hermione shuddered. "What did you want, Harry?"

Harry discarded the half-formed witticisms he'd been working on. "Your thoughts on the Chamber?"

"It's probably fake," she admitted. "Nobody's been able to find it since Hogwarts was founded, although there were rumors of an Heir to Slytherin's power about fifty years ago."

Harry waited.

"Fine, and that was when Voldemort would have been in school," Hermione capitulated. "So if there is a Chamber, it's probably got his interference all through it, started his rise to Darkness, maybe contains books of secret personal spells by one of Hogwarts' Founders." Her expression got a bit dreamy at that last part.

"Focus, Hermione," warned Neville.

"It hasn't even been a day yet, how incredible do you think I am?"

Neville and Ron just stared at her, while Harry shrugged and said "Hermajesty, Queen of Knowledge."

Hermione sighed again. "Look, Mr. Filch was Petrified and I don't know what happened to Mrs. Norris, just because she's attached herself to me doesn't tell me what got him."

"Petrified?" Harry asked, wondering if that was some kind of rare magical effect.

"It's some kind of rare magical effect," explained Hermione. "It... well, it does what happened to Mr. Filch."

"Oy, Hermione," Ron interrupted, "why the honorific?"

"Cleans the castle himself," Harry and Hermione told him.

"No, that's the Castle-Elves," Ron corrected them. "Filch just looks for students out of line."

"Well, then he's the only one keeping students in line between classes in the entire castle," Harry suggested. "That still takes incredible speed and awareness."

"So what, he's a superhuman now?"

"Says the wizard," Harry reminded him.

Ron the wizard nodded, seeming to understand.