Year Two
A Chance Encounter
By Spectre4hire
24: Aftermath
"And that's what happened."
Harry finished reciting his tale of his time in the Chamber of Secrets with Remus and Dumbledore to a silent audience. He looked up at his five friends to see various reactions flitter across their faces.
Theodore was quiet and pensive. He was never one to show what he was thinking or feeling.
When Theodore was impassive, Neville had a flurry of emotions come across his face throughout the story from fear, nervousness, awe, happiness, to relief when it ended. The pudgy Gryffindor looked drained as if he had personally just experienced the story.
Tracey's eyes were wide since the climax of the story and had yet to change even with the story over. Her expression a mix of apprehension and admiration at what Harry had gotten up to without them.
Hermione was chewing on her lower lip. The Gryffindor looked pale. It might've had to do with still being a bit woozy since recovering from being petrified. Even feeling a bit tired and unwell, she looked to be digesting his story of the events that transpired in the Chamber of Secrets.
There was no sign of fatigue from Daphne. She had been sitting upright and alert from the beginning of the story, perking up at particular mentions in the story. No doubt, she was filing away the useful information gleamed from this story to either ask about or look up later.
"So the Chamber is real?" Theodore was the first to find his voice. A tone rich in awe as the Slytherin who enjoyed history of magic was unable to hide his interest that a place of Hogwarts legend did in fact exist.
"That's the main thing you take away from this, Nott?" Even recently recovering from being in a petrified state, Daphne and Theo scarily slipped back into one of their countless rows without batting an eye.
"It's like you were never gone," Theo replied dryly, offering her a smile when she glared at him, before turning back to Harry. "Do you think you could take us there?"
Hermione pounced on that idea. "Oh yeah!" Brimming with excitement, "it would be wonderful to walk the Chamber and study what Salazar left behind."
Theodore was nodding his head enthusiastically, "Exactly, think what we could learn."
"Like how after Harry admitted to fighting the Shade of the You-Know-Who and a basilisk, all you two can think about is studying the Chamber?" Tracey teased, trading a smile with an amused Daphne. She had been reenergized since reuniting with her best friend Daphne, and Hermione.
Harry was happy to see that she had shaken out of her funk. He couldn't blame her for falling into it in the first place, losing her two closest friends. He, Neville, and Theo tried to be there for her, but they couldn't replace Daphne or Hermione.
"After a respectable amount of time has passed," Theodore recovered, looking sheepish as did Hermione, before the two shared a guilty look between them.
"Of course," Tracey was grinning. She always enjoyed ribbing those two.
Daphne cleared her throat, "I think there are more important things to discuss then planning future Chamber visits." Her eyes focused on Harry's. "Like how was Tom Riddle there?"
"The book," Neville remembered, "He was coming out of the book."
"How is that possible?" Daphne was frowning; unable to hide her frustration at not being able to crack this mystery.
"What did Dumbledore suggest?" Theodore asked.
Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore didn't know."
"Didn't know?" Daphne repeated, "Or didn't tell."
Hermione gave a soft gasp. "The Headmaster wouldn't keep that from Harry." She seemed to be taking Daphne's accusation about the Headmaster personally.
"Yes, he would," Harry said quietly. Knowing, he had the attention of his friends. The meeting he had with Dumbledore, Moony, Cyrus, and Roxanne Greengrass was still fresh in his mind even though it occurred more than two days ago in the immediate aftermath of defeating the basilisk and finishing off the shade of Tom Riddle. The Greengrass parents had been waiting in the Headmaster's office when they returned from the Chamber.
They had been equal parts worried and frustrated with Dumbledore for involving Harry. He could still remember the fierce, but loving hug that Roxanne had given him when he first stepped foot in the Headmaster's room. He could sense the fear and worry that had been eating up at her at the thought of something happening to him.
With everything he experienced in the Chamber, it was Roxanne's motherly embrace that finally assured him that he was safe and alright. She was the one who administered the first round of healing spells to Harry to deal with the minor wounds he had suffered in the Chamber. It was her, who was glued to his side with Moony hovering over him during his time in the headmaster's office. It was one thing to say she and her family cared for him, and that admission had surprised and meant so much to Harry. Yet, it wasn't until he actually experienced it that he was completely certain. There was no more doubt.
"Didn't he do something similar with the Stone," Tracey broke through Harry's memory.
"That was different," Hermione was faltering. She was clearly torn after listening to her friend's accurate points with her instinctive need in trusting authority figures.
"Just as dangerous," Theodore added grimly, "And both included the Dark Lord."
"Did he say anything?" Neville asked.
"This and that," Harry shrugged, seeing the disappointment in his friends' faces, but he didn't want to bore them with a retelling of a rather underwhelming meeting he had with the Headmaster. "He had thoughts, and theories, but wasn't willing to divulge them."
"I thought he was supposed to be more open with you," Tracey pointed out.
"He was," Harry affirmed.
"I'm sure if he was confident about one of his theories, he would've shared them," Hermione offered, trying to find some explanation for the Headmaster's aloof behavior.
"Maybe," Harry wasn't convinced. After all the progress he had made with the Headmaster, he had thought along similar lines to Hermione's reasoning, but now he wasn't so sure. He wanted to give the Headmaster, the benefit of the doubt, and he was sure Dumbledore had ideas. Yet, the Headmaster was giving him nothing.
It made it all the more frustrating when Dumbledore was trying to get Harry to remember the incident that took place after the rooster had killed the basilisk. That was when Harry's memory got spotty. He couldn't remember what happened then, only fractured bits here and there.
He remembered his hands covered in ink, sharp fangs, and a punctured ratty book. Then the next thing he remembered was waking up on the cold, damp stones of the Chamber of Secrets. A relieved Dumbledore was hovering over him. Moony was at his side too, gripping Harry's arm, red eyes, and bruised face, but the smile he gave him had been the brightest Harry had ever seen from him.
When Harry tried to remember what happened between those two solid memories all he could see were fractured images of places and things he couldn't recognize or understand. Any significant time concentrating on it caused a slight pain to surge from his scar while the images slipped away.
"Harry!"
He blinked; looking to see five concerned friends watching him. Realizing, he had spaced out during their conversation, and he had been caught. He tried to recover with a weak smile, but the others weren't fooled.
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked in a concerned voice.
"Nothing," Harry lied, knowing the others didn't believe him, but thankfully, they didn't press him on it. Not now anyways, he amended, knowing they would at a later date.
"Well, I do have some good news," Daphne aptly changed the subject, "News that will certainly brighten everyone's day."
"You're transferring?" Theodore sounded hopeful.
That got a snicker out of Tracey and Neville. Hermione only ruefully shook her head, but was unable to shake that amused smile. Harry too couldn't help but smile.
Daphne chose to ignore him. "Mr. Malfoy has been removed as a member of the Governing Board of Hogwarts."
"Finally," Neville was the first to speak. His response to the news was something all the friends could easily agree on.
"Do they know who may take his place?" Hermione was unable to hide her interest since the Governors held a certain amount of influence over Hogwarts.
"My father," Daphne smiled proudly.
"That's brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. He couldn't think of a better replacement. He knew Cyrus would use the role to improve the school rather than his own social standing.
The others shared similar words to Harry, offering their congratulations to Daphne about the news.
"There's more," Daphne's smile turned mischievous. "Draco has been expelled!"
Neville and Theodore traded smiles at the news and hand slaps to celebrate. Tracey too was smiling brightly upon learning that her fellow Slytherin who had been nothing but rude and mean to her since she was sorted into the house of Salazar was getting a rather embarrassing end. Hermione's reaction was more cautious. She wanted to believe it. Especially after he tried to diminish her at every opportunity, but she couldn't quite believe it. Perhaps, she thought it was too good to be true.
It was a line of thinking that Harry shared. He wanted it to be true. Draco had been his main obstacle since day one. While Harry tried to remold Slytherin into a better house, Draco had no problems representing its worst traits: bigotry, greed, and arrogance. With Draco gone, Harry was confident and hopeful he could improve the house immeasurably and immediately.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked cautiously.
Daphne nodded, "I heard my parents talking about it." She was relishing every bit of this. "Dumbledore couldn't allow Draco to go unpunished after being responsible for the attacks."
"What about the trance?" Hermione pointed out.
"He wanted to attack us, Hermione!" Daphne replied angrily. "He wanted to unleash that thing on the school!" Her face softened, "he shouldn't be forgiven just because he was too stupid to understand what powers he was messing with." She reached out to pat Hermione's hand, "I'm sorry," she apologized, "but Draco's intent can't be forgiven. He wanted the Chamber to be opened and he wanted to punish those who he deemed unworthy. "
"You're right," Hermione agreed, looking relieved and thankful that the second year Slytherin was no longer allowed at Hogwarts. "And I'm glad he's gone."
"Here, here," the friends chorused.
"What do you remember, Harry?"
It was such a simple question. Yet even days after Dumbledore had asked Harry it in the immediate aftermath of the incident in the Chamber of Secrets, he still didn't have an answer. He was still unable to try to conjure up any memories of what happened from between the basilisk being killed to waking up on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets.
There was much for Harry to be thankful for right now. Hermione and Daphne were better and in good spirits. His visit with them with Tracey, Theodore, and Neville had gone great. It was wonderful to have everyone together again. Even in his happiness at seeing his friends recovering and knowing the ordeal in the Chamber was over with the basilisk dead and Draco rightfully punished for his role. He couldn't shake his frustration at being unable to put all the pieces together from his time in the Chamber.
The only thing he could remember wasn't even a memory. It was a feeling. It was of dread, a suffocating coldness that tried to smother him.
It terrified him.
"I thought I'd find you here."
Harry looked up to see Moony approaching him. "Why did you think I'd be here?" The here was on the shores of the Black Lake. He was sitting beneath one of the trees that rested on the edge of the lake.
"Your mother liked to come here seeking the quiet," Remus had a wistful look flicker in his eyes as it often did when he talked about Harry's parents and their time here at Hogwarts.
"She did?" Harry hadn't heard that before.
"Oh yeah," Remus confirmed, "or when she wanted a moment's peace from your father."
Harry chuckled, he knew enough about his parents to know that they didn't get off on the right foot. From the stories that Remus and Roxanne told him, it seemed the right foot didn't happen until the later years of their time at Hogwarts and that they didn't even start dating until their final year.
"How are Daphne and Hermione?"
"Great," Harry grinned.
"Good," Remus sounded pleased at the news. "I'll try to visit them while I'm here."
"They'd like that." Harry noticed the disbelieving look on Moony's face, but thought better to bring it up. Instead, he settled on changing the subject. "Have you heard anything from Dumbledore?"
"No," Remus shook his head. "He's been keeping to himself in his office."
"If only I could remember," Harry said in frustration. Knowing the obstacle in not being able to figure out in part how Voldemort endured all these years was linked to Harry's inability to remember what happened during that crucial moment in the Chamber.
"Enough of that," Remus gently chided, "If you don't remember that's fine, what's important is that you survived." He put an arm around Harry's shoulder, "To me that's all that matters."
Harry was thankful for Moony's sincerity, but it didn't do much to suppress his growing annoyance. "I can help though."
"You've already been helping, Harry." Remus pointed out. "Look at everything you've done."
"It's because of you the Chamber was discovered. And that by itself is a victory of no small measure."
"Thanks." Harry found comfort in Moony's blunt honesty.
"Don't beat yourself up over something beyond your control," Remus continued, "Take pride in what you did."
"I know," Harry said softly, but he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of irritation that continued to fester within. "I just-" He trailed off unable to properly describe it.
"Want to do more?" Remus guessed, before amending, "You believe you could do more."
"I can do more!" Harry pushed himself up to his feet, "If only I could remember!"
"But you can't," Remus observed.
"Occlumency," Harry looked over his shoulder to see the uneasy expression flicker across Moony's face at the idea.
"The mind is a powerful thing, Harry," Remus sighed, "but it is also very fragile."
"Dumbledore is a skilled-"
"Even the most skilled make mistakes," Remus cut him off.
"But the information could be worth it!" Harry argued.
"You're more important!" Remus shot back, tone rich in emotion. His blue eyes shimmered with fear of what Harry was not only suggesting, but willing to accept if it meant that information could be obtained.
Remus approached him, resting his hands on Harry's shoulders so that their eyes could meet. "We will find a way." He squeezed his shoulders, "Now no more brooding over this." There was a playful glimmer in his eyes while the corner of his lips began to tug upwards.
"I wasn't brooding," Harry said lightly, a chuckle followed upon seeing Moony's raised eyebrows. "Okay," Harry relented, feeling rejuvenated by the smile he felt on his lips. "I'll stop."
Remus returned the smile. Looking satisfied, he patted Harry's shoulder, "Good," he then pulled him into an embrace.
Harry returned it. He took comfort in Moony's presence, unsure how he would've reacted to the trials of the Chamber without the calming effect and wise words that Remus had been able to give.
"You know, I actually came out here to apologize to you," Remus said abruptly.
"Apologize to me?" Harry didn't understand.
"Yes," Remus confirmed, "For how I acted about learning you were a Parselmouth." He lowered his head. "It was wrong of me to be mad at you." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I had no right to judge you and your decision to keep this secret burden to yourself."
There was silence. Harry wasn't sure how to respond to this sudden apology from Moony.
"Isn't only a secret when we keep it from our friends and family?" Remus mused, "Keeping it away from those who care about us and mean the most to us?" He looked reflective. "To anyone else it's not really a secret because they're not supposed to know us so personally, so intimately."
"I shamed myself with my reaction," Remus let out a bitter chuckle. "After all I've experienced and witnessed firsthand, I should've been supportive and understanding knowing how Parseltongue is viewed in our world."
"What I'm trying to say is," Remus looked up to meet Harry's eyes, he could see tension in Moony's expression, his blue eyes wary, he looked to be suffering from some form of internal struggle. "I too have been keeping a secret from you, Harry."
That caught Harry by surprise. He could tell what ever this secret was it was gnawing away at Remus. Harry couldn't remember seeing him look so troubled before. He was always so calm and collected, for him to see Moony so unraveled, was deeply concerning.
"You don't have to tell me," Harry told him.
"No," Remus declined. "You have the right to know." He looked around as if wanting to make sure they were alone. They were, but even then he didn't seem satisfied. He took out his wand and murmured a spell that Harry hadn't heard before.
"To make sure we're not overheard," Remus answered Harry's unasked question about the spell he had just used.
"Harry, I'm…I'm," Remus stammered, "This isn't easy for me," he tried to explain. "This isn't something I've practiced, because it's not something I've shared so openly." He closed his eyes, and let loose a breath.
"I'm a werewolf, Harry."
Harry found himself wandering the dungeon corridors. He was still reeling from the revelation his uncle had given him.
Remus was a werewolf.
It didn't seem real. It seemed so preposterous. Harry didn't want to believe it. However, the more he found himself thinking about it, the less doubt he felt. His mind pointing out those random trips Moony had taken during the summer holiday to see his family: A family that Harry had never met or heard of unless Moony was taking one of his trips. He could remember how weary Moony would be when he returned to the Greengrass Manor after a few days.
Even his name, Moony was a not so subtle hint of his affliction.
The obvious was right in front of him, but Harry had never wanted to scratch the surface, to look beneath the veneer and to see the truth. He hadn't wanted it. He had spent his life unloved by the Dursleys, unsure of himself and his place in the world. He knew nothing of his parents. And then the miracle happened.
He had gotten his Hogwarts letter. A revelation that blew apart the lies the Dursleys had carefully managed to feed him for the past ten years. From there, he met Roxanne and Cyrus, who opened their homes to him and gave him his first pictures of his parents as well as stories allowing Harry for the first time to truly know who his parents were.
They weren't strangers anymore. They were people. They lived, and loved, laughed, and cried. They were everything he had conjured up when he was alone in the darkness of his cupboard under the stairs.
When Remus came into the picture, he was even able to further shine a light on Harry's parents during their time at Hogwarts. He would tell story after story about them, giving Harry the ability to better picture them and their personalities and to see who they really were. It was a precious gift for Harry, who for so long had just wanted an ounce of truth about his parents, was now finding himself flooded by information. He cherished it all. Remus had brought them to life. He had helped make them real.
It changes nothing, Harry firmly reminded himself. He was determined. Despite Moony's efforts to try to convince him otherwise or at the very least caution him, but Harry wouldn't have any of it. Moony was Harry's family.
In the time after Moony spilled his revelation, Harry soon learned how Remus had gotten bitten as a child, and how Harry's father and the other Marauders refused to abandon him after they pieced it together themselves. It was also that Harry became more aware of the wolfsbane potion. It was a potion that controls some of the worst symptoms that come from the condition. The potion is incredibly difficult to make even for skilled wizards, and even then some of its ingredients are difficult and expensive to get, something that made it impossible for Moony to use.
"Harry Potter." The cold voice of his Head of House caused Harry to stop in his steps.
He turned to see Professor Snape standing outside a doorway.
"What are you doing wandering these halls?" He raised a dark eyebrow, "Trying to discover more Hogwarts' secrets before the term ends?"
Harry ignored the sarcasm in the Professor's voice. "I was looking for you."
That was clearly not the answer Snape had been expecting. "Explain."
"Can I talk to you in private?" Harry knew his relationship with his Head of House was still frosty after letting slip he knew about his mum and Snape being friends during their time at Hogwarts as well as learning about their falling out. Since he had made that known to Snape, the Potions Professor had been nothing but cold and aloof with Harry. Something, Harry desperately needed to change if his plan was going to work.
"Do not waste my time, Potter," Snape warned.
"I won't, sir," Harry swore, "I promise."
Snape didn't look totally convinced, but he nonetheless nodded, "Very well." He held up his hand, "to my office."
Neither spoke during the walk to Snape's office. Harry was trying to rehearse how he was going to broach the subject with him. He knew Professor Snape was a skilled master of potions, who was more than capable of brewing the difficult, but important wolfsbane potion. Harry just wasn't sure how to make the offer. The added tension did nothing to alleviate Harry's anxiety.
The moment he dreaded arrived when they walked into Snape's office. The second they stepped foot inside, Snape turned expectantly to Harry. "Well," he drawled, "here we are."
"Ergh, yes," Harry replied, mentally chastising himself for such a poor response. "I-I w-wanted," he stammered, "to ask you for something."
"Oh?" Harry couldn't tell if Snape was more amused or annoyed.
"To brew a potion for me," he mumbled.
"What sort of potion?" Snape was definitely amused, "Perhaps a Wit-Sharpening potion?" He suggested, "Then at the very least you'd be able to stop wasting my time."
"It's the wolfsbane potion," Harry blurted out.
Surprise flickered across Snape's face, but it only lasted for a few short seconds. It then transformed into a knowing, insufferable look. "You know?" A smug smile completed the expression.
Harry didn't answer. He wasn't going to accidentally let slip Remus was a werewolf. He read enough books to know what a terrible stigma it was in the magical world. He wasn't going to blab Moony's secret.
"Loyal," Snape remarked, "but there is no need." He moved to sit behind his desk. "I'm already aware of Lupin's deformity."
"How do you know?" Harry gaped.
"That is not your concern," Snape dismissed. A dark glint in his obsidian eyes hardened his expression. "My answer is no." He rested his arms on this desk. "I am not a charity. My time is valuable as are those ingredients."
"I can pay," Harry argued. He wasn't going to take no for an answer. He was going to get that potion. He was going to help Moony.
"I don't want your money," Snape took the offer a lot worse than Harry thought. He slammed his hands onto his desk. "I don't want the riches of the Potter legacy!"
"It's not money," Harry protested. Making a mental note at how the Professor had reacted at the thought of taking his money. No, he corrected himself: His father's money.
"I don't care," Snape rose from his desk. "I have entertained this farce long enough." He gestured to Harry to leave his office. He was dismissing him.
"The basilisk!" offered Harry, knowing he needed to get his point across before it was too late. It worked. Snape had stopped at once.
"What did you say?" He pinned Harry with a piercing, calculating look.
"The basilisk," Harry repeated, trying to regain himself after just seconds ago being pushed out of the room. "You can get the first chance at harvesting the basilisk." Harry understood how valuable those ingredients were. Some of which were incredibly rare, rarer and more expensive than those needed in the wolfsbane potion.
"You will take me to it?" Snape's dark eyes were surveying Harry intently.
"Yes," Harry felt a flicker of hope in his chest, believing he was successful.
"In return for what?" Snape was cautious, but his interest was palpable.
"That you supply and brew the wolfsbane potion for Moony for as long as I say."
Snape pursed his lips together. Mulling over Harry's offer, it was clear he didn't like the idea of helping out Moony or brewing it under Harry's orders, but the pull of getting a chance at harvesting that basilisk seemed stronger.
"Very well," Snape agreed slowly. It looked as if it pained him to come to this agreement.
"Thank you, sir," relief filled Harry like a soothing balm. His anxiety dissipated as did his fear of Snape saying no. His plan was working. He was going to get the potion and a steady supply of it to help Moony.
"I'm not doing this for you," Snape said stiffly, "Or Lupin." He went back to his desk. "I'm doing this for my own reasons."
The trip to the Chamber had been an uneventful. Harry had stayed out of the way as Snape collected all that he could carry with him from the basilisk. It hadn't taken too long and soon enough his head of house was ready to depart the ancient chamber of Salazar Slytherin. Walking back to Snape's office, the two had settled with a firm silence.
"Did you hear?" Snape broke the silence as they descended down the stairs that led to the dungeons. "Professor Lockhart has called a press conference."
"I've heard," Harry said tersely. He had tried, but failed to keep his opinion on the action out of his tone.
"Jealous, Potter?" Snape couldn't help himself. "That someone else is taking your glory?"
"Spare me the glory," Harry scoffed. That wasn't what had been bothering him. "Frauds like him shouldn't be rewarded."
"It is the frauds in life who tend to get the most rewards," Snape pointed out coldly.
"Still," Harry wasn't too pleased or impressed with Snape's bitter life lesson. He wasn't going to accept it. If he could do something about it, why shouldn't he? "If only there was a way to prove to the world what a fool he really is."
"He is still your professor," Snape admonished, the two stepped into the potions classroom. Snape was approaching his storage room where he kept some of his rarer potions and supplies. He opened it with a flick of his wand.
"That doesn't change the fact he's a fool," Harry had had enough of Lockhart and his antics. It was bad enough he had to suffer through his miserable classes all year. To make matters worse he would have to endure them next year too.
Harry had trailed a respectable distance from his Head of House. Taking a glimpse inside the Potion's professor storage closet to see shelves upon shelves of various jars, vials, flasks, and bottles all containing important and expensive potions and ingredients.
Snape deposited the handful of jars of the specimens of the basilisk he carried onto the top shelf. He turned around to face Harry, looking at him closely.
"Bottom shelf, smallest vial," Snape said vaguely, "three drops should be enough." With those vague instructions he moved towards his office closing the door behind him. Snape hadn't closed the door to his storage closet.
Confused, Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of Snape's behavior or last words. Moving closer to the storage closet, he was quickly able to spot the potion that Snape had mentioned. There, in the smallest vial looked to contain nothing special. It looked liked water.
And that's when Harry understood what he in fact was looking at: Veritaserum, the most powerful truth serum in the world. He was unable to hide his smile as he carefully grabbed the vial from its spot. An idea was already forming in his mind, all he needed was a few accomplices to help make his plan a reality, and he knew just who to turn to…
"He's what?!" Hermione looked outraged.
"You must be mistaken," Tracey was in denial.
"What a surprise," Theodore said dryly.
Neville snickered at that, before nodding his head in agreement.
After leaving Snape's office, Harry was quick to rally his friends. He knew he could count on Theodore and Neville, neither of them had liked the man from day one, an opinion that Harry shared. Unfortunately, his plan didn't hinge on their participation.
No, he needed people who Lockhart could trust, where he could let his guard down. He needed Lockhart's two biggest fans in this school who also happened to be two of his friends: Tracey and Hermione.
"How is it so hard to believe?" Daphne who had stayed quiet up to this point didn't seem to care one way or the other about their defense against the dark arts teacher. "A man who writes books celebrating his accomplishments and to promote himself at every opportunity may embellish his tales to gain more attention." Daphne feigned shock, "Oh the horror."
"Still," Hermione and Tracey either didn't seem convinced or didn't want to believe it.
"What about if you talk to him," Neville suggested.
The idea was so simple. It was brilliant. All Harry could do was turn to his Gryffindor friend with a bright smile, before quickly latching onto the idea. "Yeah, talk to him," Harry continued, "ask him about it. Hear what he says, maybe this is all just a way to promote the school and his role as its reigning defense against the dark arts professor."
Fat chance, Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the very idea that this was all a misunderstanding. However, he wasn't the one who needed convincing. He turned to Hermione and Tracey to see them mulling over the suggestion. The two traded a nervous, uncertain look.
"It couldn't hurt," Hermione said finally.
"Right," Tracey said slowly.
"Good," Theodore said, "let's end this farce once and for all." He ignored the looks Hermione and Tracey gave him.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Harry Potter found himself standing outside Professor Lockhart's door. He wasn't alone. In front of him were Tracey and Daphne. The plan was in motion.
"Remember the plan," Harry reminded them.
Tracey sent him a look clearly saying she didn't need the reminder.
Hermione took a deep breath, "Here we go." She knocked on Professor Lockhart's door.
"Hold on," Lockhart called from behind his door.
Harry could hear the man rummaging through his room to get to the door; he opened it, eyes bright and expecting, his trademark smile in place, with his rosy cheeks, and wavy blond hair. He frowned, before looking down, his eyes finding Tracey and Hermione.
"You weren't who I was expecting," he recovered quickly, offering them one of his Witch Weekly winning smiles.
Harry wanted to throw up right there, but he didn't. He bit down on the urge to groan. Especially when Tracey and Hermione were reacting to it with shy smiles and stammering replies.
This plan is doomed, Harry inwardly groaned.
"Sorry to bother you, Professor," Hermione was the first to find her voice. "But we wanted to have an exclusive few words before your press conference."
Lockhart wagged his finger at them. "Trying to get a scoop out of me?" He winked. "You need to wait like everyone else."
"But, but we wanted to use it for our project on you," Tracey replied, "
"A project on me?" He was glowing at the idea. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to reward my two best students." He stepped aside allowing the two girls to enter.
Harry stayed as close as he could to Tracey and Hermione, walking quietly into the room, clutching his Invisibility cloak tightly to himself. He gave an inward sigh of relief when Lockhart closed the door, oblivious to Harry's presence inside the room. Then, Harry thought that wasn't much of a victory, since Lockhart was oblivious to most anyone in any given room except for himself and his adoring fans.
Lockhart led the two girls over towards his desk, to two empty chairs while more than a dozen portraits of himself adorned the walls and seemed to be enjoying the guests as much as the real Lockhart was. They were smiling and waving, making poses, doing anything to get the girls' attention.
Harry lingered in the backwards. He reached inside his pocket, his fingers finding the vial quickly, confirming to him, he still had it. He just needed the right moment.
"Where would you like to begin?" Lockhart gracefully fell into his plush, ornate seat behind his desk.
"The Chamber," Hermione answered, "How did you know where to find it?"
"Research," Lockhart told her, "And let that be an important lesson to you two." Playfully pointing at them, "Research is the key to any successful endeavor."
Hermione and Tracey adding to the believability of their act had both brought their notebooks with them to serve as props. The two were scribbling away Lockhart's advice onto the pages as a satisfied Lockhart watched on.
Tracey was the first to look up from her notebook, "But how did you open the Chamber?"
"I said the magic word," Lockhart grinned.
Suddenly, the amusing thought of Lockhart trying to open the Chamber's door by giving it one of his dazzling smiles came to his mind. It was enough to make Harry want to laugh at the ridiculous idea, but he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from doing it out loud.
"You speak parseltongue?" Hermione followed up, allowing a hint of awe in her tone.
Harry couldn't tell if it was genuine or not.
"I picked it up here and there," Lockhart answered dismissively.
It was then that Harry noticed the look that passed between Hermione and Tracey. He could understand what was being said without a word being uttered between the friends. The façade was quickly wearing off allowing his two friends to see the man for who he truly was.
Silently pleased, Harry quietly sneaked around the room trying to find something to put the Veritaserum in. It needed to be something that he was sure, Lockhart would drink out of before his approaching interview. He didn't have to look long; he spotted the professor had a glass half filled with an amber liquid resting on a side table beside his desk.
"That's very impressive," Tracey cooed, it seemed a bit much, but Lockhart didn't pick up on the fake sweetness.
"It's not an easy language to understand," Lockhart added, having no problem adding to his lie especially if it made his deed more impressive.
"No, it isn't." Hermione replied, eyes wide in admiration.
"But the basilisk," Tracey pointed out, "There were rumors of a mighty basilisk living within the Chamber."
"There was," Lockhart confirmed, coming to his feet. "Or it did live there," he corrected himself with a smug chuckle, "but it was no match for me." He drew his wand from his golden wand holster. He made a few ridiculous looking wand flourishes as he continued, "I taught it to fear the sting of my wand!" An unintentional orange spark spurted from Lockhart's wand sizzling around the room. The portraits of Lockhart scurried out of their frames, panic stricken trying to avoid the spell. The accidental spell smashed into the opposite wall, searing the stone and one of Lockhart's beloved certificates that recognized him for some dubious accomplishment.
"Ah," Lockhart pouted at the damage his spell had done, he recovered smoothly, "You must forgive me," he offered the girls another smile. "I can get caught up in the stories when I retell them."
"It's like I was there," Tracey said dreamily, falling back into her seat.
It took all of Harry's effort to stop himself from giving up an amused snort. He used the chaos that Lockhart had accidentally triggered to his advantage, allowing himself to come up alongside Lockhart's glass. He fished the vial out of his hand, carefully and quietly uncorking it.
He held his breath. This would be the most difficult part. He gave the signal to Hermione and Tracey like they had practiced, by letting slip one of his fingers out of the cloak. Thankfully, they didn't miss it.
"Professor," Hermione stood from her seat, pointing across the room and causing Lockhart to turn his back on where Harry was standing and more importantly the glass. "Is that you with Minister Fudge?"
Tuning out Lockhart's reply, Harry using the cloak to shield himself positioned his hand above the glass, keeping it steady, he deposited the three drops needed. The tasteless, odorless truth potion quickly blended with the amber liquid. Satisfied, and relieved, Harry slipped a few steps back and out of the way to make sure his presence in the room remained a secret.
"Oh dear," Lockhart sounded alarmed, "Is that the time?" He ran his fingers through his hair, "You girls must forgive me, but I'm going to be late to my press conference," he swept by his desk and went right by his glass.
Harry's heart fell. They were so close. Their plan couldn't be foiled like this. There was nothing he could do to get him to drink since he was still covered by his cloak.
"Wait," Hermione called urgently, bringing him to a stop.
"What is it?" a hint of impatience in his voice. "I can't be late."
"A toast," Tracey suggested, pointing to his glass, "To your new book."
"My new book?" Lockhart looked both confused and intrigued at the prospect.
"That's right," Hermione was nodding, "Professor Lockhart in the Battle with the Basilisk."
A slow smile spread across his lips accompanied by a faraway look that flickered across his face. "Yes, yes." He said, snapping himself out of his reverie, and making his way over to his glass that Harry had put the Veritaserum in. "That would make an excellent title." He picked it up, "You don't mind me using it do you?"
"It would be an honor," Hermione said breathlessly.
Lockhart had the glass to his lips. "Don't worry, I'll put you two in the foreword."
"We'd be delighted," Tracey assured him.
"To my new book," Lockhart toasted, tipping his head back and draining his goblet dry. He smacked his lips together as he put the empty glass down. A pensive look clouded his features.
"Professor Lockhart?" Hermione asked tentatively.
"Yes?" He looked down at them.
Tracey and Hermione shared a concerned look, unsure if the truth potion had taken affect.
"Are you ready for your press conference?"
"Of course, I am," he answered casually. "For as many years as I've been doing this, it's become a simple routine really." He tipped his head to them. "I can't be late, you understand." Without another word, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart exited his classroom and willingly made his way to the gaggle of press waiting for him, not knowing that he now had the most powerful truth potion coursing through him.
"This isn't going to be pretty," Hermione observed softly.
"I know, right?" Theodore replied happily. "It's going to be great!"
"You won't be able to stop me from watching," Neville added.
The friends trickled into the back of the Great Hall to witness the fruits of their labor. The press had already gathered and was crowding around, attention at the podium, all waiting for Professor Lockhart to appear and to answer their questions of his time in the Chamber of Secrets.
"It's like Christmas came early," Neville mused.
"Shush," Theodore hushed his friend, before the two traded grins as everyone's attention drifted towards the front of the hall where Professor Lockhart appeared at the podium.
He stood there, a worn smile on his face as he looked out at the sea of press, but said nothing. Harry noticed how his eyes didn't blink or his expression change at the flash of bulbs that were surely assaulting his vision, but he gave no reaction at all.
"Mr. Lockhart?" The voice belonged to a sharp dress woman in the front row, who had just elbowed a fat photographer who had stepped in her way.
"Yes?"
"How did you do it?" Her question drew the Great Hall to silence; dozens of reporters had their quills out, posed and ready.
"Do what?" Lockhart sounded confused
The reporter seemed to think he was playing around. "Oh, Gilderoy," she shot him a smile, before shaking her head playfully, "Don't be modest." That earned a ripple of chuckles from the press, "How did you defeat the basilisk?"
"I didn't," he answered without hesitation.
The playful persona the reporter had donned had all but cracked; she looked more annoyed then anything. "What do you mean?" It was clear she was unprepared for this sort of answer. "You invited us here to tell us about how you entered the Chamber of Secrets and slew a basilisk."
"I didn't do any of that," Lockhart answered casually.
The annoyance that had clouded her expression when she thought Lockhart was pulling her leg vanished. It was replaced by a growing smirk, realizing that a new, more tantalizing story had presented itself. She wasn't alone in her epiphany, the mirthful and playful atmosphere that had engulfed the press had evaporated, replaced by eager and sly men and women who were going to exploit this impossible situation for all the coin and attention they could get.
"Can you explain your answer?" Someone in the third row of the press called.
"I lied about it," he said with a lazy shrug of his shoulders. "I never went to the Chamber of Secrets, I never fought a basilisk. I was simply taking credit for the work of others."
"Is this the first time you've done this?" asked a new voice.
"No," he replied, "I've been doing this for years."
The press continued to toss him questions, feeding off of his unparalleled honesty, feasting on his true revelations, writing furiously every short and honest answer they got. They were gorging themselves, and showed no signs of being full.
Gilderoy Lockhart did nothing to fend them off. Giving away candid answers without knowing that with each one he was destroying his reputation, and losing his fortune. He had no idea. He was oblivious and instrumental of his own downfall.
"Well," Theodore turned to the others, "tomorrow should make for an interesting news day."
"Where are you going, Harry?" Daphne called, "we've passed several empty compartments!"
Harry didn't answer. He kept moving through the Hogwarts Express.
Another year at school had come to an end. It was time to go home. The train was about to leave Hogsmeade Station, but Harry made no effort into entering any of the empty compartments they found. That wasn't what he was looking for.
In truth, he was looking for someone. His eyes moved back and forth inside the compartments, but when he didn't see what he was looking for he kept moving. His confused friends were following behind him. He hadn't told them his plan because he knew how they would react.
"I'll meet up with you," Harry called over his shoulder. He thought it might be better if he did this alone.
"After what?" asked a suspicious Theo.
"After I talk to somebody," Harry answered vaguely.
"Who?" That was Neville.
Before he could answer, he spotted them. They were alone and sulking. He came to a halt.
"You can't be serious," Daphne was now right behind him and had followed his attention inside the compartment he was looking into.
"I am."
"After everything they've done," Tracey didn't bother to hide her disapproval of his decision.
"They were led down the wrong path." Harry was certain they could change. All they needed was guidance.
"And you'd think they'd follow you?" Theodore asked skeptically.
He turned away from the compartment so that he could face his friends to see their disbelieving expressions. "They can." He answered honestly. "Maybe they won't, but this is their chance to make their own decision."
"What if they want nothing to do with you?" Hermione asked.
"If?" Daphne asked sarcastically.
"Then they'll learn." Harry said simply, "That Slytherin is changing and that they're going to end up on the wrong side."
Before he could hear any of his friends' rebuttals, he opened the compartment door, stepping in to come face to face with Crabbe and Goyle. The two fellow Slytherins greeted his presence with poisonous glares.
"What do you want?" Goyle demanded.
"A moment of your time," Harry said smoothly.
"And why should we give you that?" Crabbe stood from his seat to show off his menacing physique. He cracked his knuckles, and took a step towards Harry.
"Don't even think about it," Daphne warned acidly, her wand was out and pointed at him.
"Then again we're not sure you have the brain capacity to," Theodore appeared beside Harry, wand pointed at Goyle.
"Do we even need an excuse?" Tracey asked innocently, coming inside with Hermione and Neville behind, all three of them had their wands drawn.
Crabbe and Goyle may have been thick, but they weren't suicidal. Even they understood they were outnumbered and outmatched. Crabbe mumbled something before sitting back down, eyeing them with disgust. "Just say what you have to say and get out."
"It's not what I have to say, but what I want to offer," Harry corrected, turning to see Crabbe's expression was still of contempt, looking like he'd rather harm Harry then listen to him. Unbothered, Harry then turned to Goyle to see his fellow second year Slytherin had a different reaction then Crabbe. He was unable to hide his interest.
"I know we've been enemies," Harry ignored Crabbe's snort, "But we don't have to remain enemies."
He couldn't ignore the possibility of ending the tension between them and recruiting him to his side. It was never a bad thing to have strong blokes as enforcers, and he was sure he may need them in the Snake pit even with Draco gone, he knew he had other enemies who would resist what he wanted to do. This way he could neutralize a potential threat by making sure those enemies couldn't use useful resources like Crabbe and Goyle against them.
"Draco is gone-"
"Because of you!" spat Crabbe.
"Draco got himself expelled," growled Daphne.
"For being a true Slytherin!" Crabbe argued.
"He was an idiot!" Harry snapped. "You followed somebody who could barely keep up in half of our classes." Harry was tired of those who would hold up people like Draco and claimed they were the symbol of Slytherin, of Harry's house. He would have no more of it. That Slytherin way was dead. Harry would see to it.
"I'm offering something better then poor grades," Harry continued. "This is your chance to be a part of something better." His eyes moved over to Goyle. "Help me rebuild Slytherin into a better more respectable house."
"You half bloods have tainted our house enough," Crabbe sneered, standing up.
"So that's a no," Harry said dryly, unbothered by the towering presence of Crabbe. His friends raised their wands in warning, but no spells were cast. Harry wanted to keep it that way.
"You're bloody right it is," Crabbe said emphatically.
"Unfortunate," Harry had sadly expected this, but he thought they deserved a chance-one chance. After that, well, they'd need to be dealt with to make sure they didn't intervene on someone else's behalf.
Harry turned to the Goyle, who hadn't been as outspoken as Crabbe. He hadn't even said a word since he first asked Harry why he was in there compartment, "And what about you, Goyle?"
"He's with me," Crabbe answered confidently, turning to him, "Isn't that right?"
To Harry's surprise, Goyle looked undecided. He looked from Crabbe and then to Harry and his friends. He looked to have been expecting one of them to give him his orders. He looked uncomfortable at the thought of having to decide his own path. He let out a sigh, and slowly nodded. That got a wide, triumphant grin from Crabbe.
"I see," Harry gestured to his friends to leave, and they did, one by one, he looked back after Daphne slid out, he turned to the conflicted Slytherin.
"Just remember my offer."