I got an unbelievable amount of people who were confused why Harry said "sex" at the end of last chapter.

Guys.

He's cursing.

His mentality is that people just say several words for replacements when they're upset – i.e., saying "SEX" rather than "FUCK". Because, you know – they mean the same thing.

I dunno. I thought that was a bit obvious, but when more than five people were confused…o.O Guess not.

Zuri – Hermione

Xylon – Neville

Grímur – Dumbledore

Siyamak – Snape

Boipelo – Ron

Troi – Blaise

When Harry found Emeralda near the Hufflepuff Common Room, he was relieved to find out that she hadn't been ordered to attack – but she did have more information about the boy. All that she could tell was that he was holding a book when he spoke, but trying to look at the boy's face could accidentally kill the boy if he happened to look up into her eyes, so she tried to be as safe as possible and avoid it entirely. But it let Harry know that the book was somehow important. He couldn't think of how, but surely if he was holding the book every time he spoke to her, it had something to do with how his voice apparently hadn't aged at all in decades.

When he wondered aloud what the boy had been there for, if not to order an attack, she had answered that all the boy seemed intent on doing was planning. He hadn't even wanted Emeralda's help for it – when she offered, he said he could do it on his own, but the Chamber helped him think better. All Emeralda had been able to catch from what he said were the words, "bloody Potter", "Ravenclaw", and "buck-tooth". Neither of them had any clue what that might mean.

After reassuring him that she could be hungry for a little longer – that the welfare of the students was more important – they bid each other farewell and she traveled back through the pipes to get back to the Chamber.

Pensively thinking over what Emeralda had told him, he made his way to History of Magic, where Zuri and Xylon were waiting for him.

"What happened?" Hermione asked anxiously. "What did she say?"

"There's nothing to worry about," Harry said, still turning over her words in his head. "Just some more information."

"Who is this 'Emeralda'?" Neville sighed, asking in a way that it was clear that he didn't really expect an answer. "I don't know any Emeraldas that go to school here, so I have no idea who you're talking about."

Harry looked up as several Gryffindors appeared down the hall, coming toward the classroom they stood just outside of.

"I'll tell you during class," he muttered so no one else would hear, and entered the room quickly. Hermione and Neville followed right behind him, sitting on either side of him in the back row. They were all silent as the students began filtering in, as Harry clearly decided to wait until most students would be asleep during Binns' lecture.

Fifteen minutes later, they were the only ones in their area of the classroom still awake, so Harry leaned over to Neville and told him just what was going on with the basilisk situation. Hermione occasionally chimed in with her own comments, and though Neville was clearly alarmed, he took their words as gospel and agreed not to tell anyone – not even a teacher.

"And don't look into Grímur's eyes – Salim said he was a Lego man," Harry finished in a whisper. "Siyamak, too."

"Legilimens, Harry," Hermione corrected swiftly, and explained at Neville's lost look, "It means that they can see your thoughts and memories if they look into your eyes."

Neville's eyes widened at that, thinking inwardly of how grateful he was that he was too nervous to look into Professor Snape's eyes. He would have to remember not to look the Headmaster in the eye, though he had always felt that Professor Dumbledore was like a grandpa sort of figure. At least, that was the aura he projected. But after Harry had explained that the name he'd given him was one that meant he "wore a mask", he had been a bit leery of the old man. Although Harry was by far the oddest person he'd ever met, and somehow couldn't understand some of the simplest of human things, he still had wickedly sharp instincts. So, because Harry was leery of the Headmaster, it translated that Neville would be, too. Just to be safe.

And now there was the news that the man could read his thoughts simply by looking into his eyes. Knowing that, he couldn't think of a single reason not to distrust him. Of course there was still the possibility that Harry was wrong, but his doubts about the odd boy were gradually dwindling to nothing.

Neville assured them that he would keep quiet about this, and not look Dumbledore or Snape in the eyes, and then turned to himself to think over what he'd been told. Harry Potter certainly had a talent for shocking people.

The month of October passed quickly and uneventfully. Hermione continued to try and convince Harry to tell at least Sirius and Remus about the basilisk and what was going on, but Harry continually refused. He knew that they would feel a duty to tell people – like Dumbledore – about it, but Hermione seemed to believe otherwise. She thought they would be trustworthy, and it would ease her conscience about keeping it a secret from adults. She also argued that it would be better to bounce ideas off of an adult who knew more about magic than they did, but Harry came right back with the argument that Neville knew enough that they could talk to him.

And they did talk to him. But it didn't do much good, because they didn't exactly have a lot to go on in figuring out who the culprit was.

Neville volunteered the idea that perhaps it was Draco Malfoy with the black book, seeing as he was the most vocal about blood superiority, but Harry disagreed. He was certain that the blond didn't have enough of a spine to go against the entire school and try to kill so many people, even with some sort of outward influence. Though he had noticed that the boy watched him a lot more frequently now – and not just with fear, but sometimes with speculation and calculation.

Now that they were watching out for any signs of the black book, Harry noticed a few more people regularly watching him. Grímur was one of them, and it made him want to bite the old man's eyes out. He didn't know why he was watching him so often, but when Harry noticed him, he tried to leave the area as quickly as he could without it being obvious. He didn't want to tip the man off to his fear of him – though he quietly admitted to himself that the man probably already knew. Still, the old man's gaze was just a bit too predatory for him to feel comfortable around him.

It was Sadi who noticed Siyamak watching him, however. It wasn't so obvious that anyone else noticed – even Hermione and Neville – but it was enough for his sister…and, when she told him, to him.

He wasn't sure what to make of the dark-eyed man's expressions, though. Sometimes he might've said he was sad, but other times he seemed downright angry. The most prominent that he noticed however, was a studying sort of look – like he was trying to figure him out. It made Harry very uneasy, no matter what Salim might have told him about how he was unlikely to hurt him. After all, unlikely meant that there was still some sort of likelihood there, however small.

He did have to admit though, that the man had let up on his tormenting in class. It wasn't so noticeable to the other students in class, but at least he wasn't having them make potions with snake parts anymore. It was as though the incident had never happened. For some reason, Harry got the feeling that the incident had been some sort of test – but of what, he had no idea. In any case, he always made sure that Sadi was with Zuri or Xylon while he was in Potions. He didn't want to risk anything happening to his sister.

One effect of leaving Sadi with Xylon, however, was that Xylon was a Gryffindor, and therefore had all his classes with all the other Gryffindors in their year. This meant that he had Sadi with him when he was close to Boipelo, and when Harry wasn't there, he had no problem making his disgusted opinion with him and his "pet snake" known. When Harry found out about it, he was all set to go and beat the redhead into the ground for his derogatory comments toward his friends and his sister, but the combined efforts of Sadi, Xylon, and Zuri, convinced him otherwise. He made no effort to hide his glares from the boy when he saw him, though – and that seemed like enough to shut him up while he was there.

His friendship with Troi was growing as well, something he was very happy about. The curly-haired boy didn't seem as hesitant to acknowledge him in the company of other Slytherins anymore, even if he wasn't exuberant about it. Harry just understood that it had something to do with "Slytherin politics", even if he still didn't quite understand what those were. Troi was still happy to pair with him in the classes they had together, explaining that even for how naïve he was about some things, he was wicked smart with some of the subjects. Charms seemed to come naturally to him, though his skill in Transfiguration was nothing to sneeze at, either. He was certainly better at it than several of the other Slytherin second years.

He'd mentioned Troi's words in passing one night to Sirius and Salim when he was talking to them through the mirror. Salim commented that it was likely because magic was just as new to him as everything else about humans, so it was another thing he just accepted as new and tried to learn. The others saw magic as the thing to get used to, but they hadn't spent the past year trying to adapt to several things at once. Now that Harry had learned most human things, his focus was on learning magic – and he was putting forth the same amount of effort he had the past year when he learned human things and magic. The extra effort meant that it came to Harry more easily than most.

The morning of Halloween, Harry awoke to the smell of pumpkin and spices, making him gag. It was much too sweet to enjoy, and when he left the Hufflepuff Common Room, it only got stronger, almost convincing him to go right back into the dorms. He persevered though, knowing that Zuri would want to see him this morning. She seemed to think that he would break down at any second, because his human parents had been killed this night eleven years ago.

Of course, he was a bit sad about it – but not as much as Zuri seemed to think he should be. He wished he'd known more about them – even Sirius and Salim's stories couldn't fill that hole completely. But he had seen death before, and he knew how to move on.

That was another thing that Sirius and Salim had helped him with – moving on from death. Before coming to live with them, he'd still been bitter about the hawk attacking and killing Sueva. But it had been seeing how his guardians had moved past their friends' deaths that allowed him to emulate their example in regards to Sueva. They had been sad, and sometimes angry and resentful, but they would remember times with James and Lily when they were alive with fond smiles and bittersweet tears. Harry had seen how they were grieved at their deaths, but they also didn't let it paralyze them. They had also commented that knowing that Harry was alive helped them tremendously, even when they didn't know where he was. The fact that he had been saved thanks to their sacrifice was enough to be grateful for.

Harry had seen all of this and taken all of this in, and unconsciously began emulating the same actions in regards to Sueva and Sadi. It was easy to see the parallels. And, while Harry didn't talk about Sueva as much as his guardians talked about James and Lily, as he was a more private person in that regard, he did eventually begin to heal as he talked about Sadi's mother more often than the brief mentions in the past.

And, after he'd finally begun to miss James and Lily, wondering how his life might have been with them in his life, he already trusted and loved Sirius and Salim enough that he could go to them for comfort as well as more stories to ease the ache inside.

So, he wasn't as sad as he might have been under different circumstances. He understood that dying was a way of life, and that even though James and Lily died early in life, they had died when they needed to, and for something good that they believed in. He hoped that when he died, he would die doing something just as meaningful.

He was shaken from his serious thoughts when Zuri came down the stairs toward him. She engulfed him in a warm hug, chattering away about classes and homework and everything but the date and what it meant.

This pattern continued for several hours through the day, before she was finally satisfied that Harry wasn't going to burst into tears on her shoulder. After that she acted mostly normally, with the exception of the occasional glance of concern sent his way. Unfortunately there was no distraction of classes, as it was Saturday, so Harry did his best to ignore it. He simply sighed and pushed through it, following her example and acting like nothing was wrong.

And on that note, he realized that something did feel wrong – just not what his best friend seemed to expect. There was something in the air – something dark that he could taste. He knew he wasn't imagining it, though – Sadi could sense it too, and kept nervously flicking her tongue out to taste the air every other minute. He said nothing to Hermione though, knowing that she would suspect that it was something to do with James and Lily and his grief at their deaths. He had no way of convincing her otherwise, and no proof whatsoever that something was indeed wrong, so he simply made small comments about it in Parseltongue to Sadi every now and then.

As the Feast that night approached, Harry felt his apprehension grow. He had taken Sadi from Zuri's neck, lest she realize that Sadi was growing agitated, and he could feel her shifting uneasily on his own neck as they walked down the corridor to the Hufflepuff Common Room. They would spend a couple of hours in there before going on to the Feast, which Harry was not looking forward to purely due to the smell that continued to assault him. He was sure that it would be much stronger where the food sat.

Sighing, he began to color in one of his many coloring books (which Salim had needed to send more of last week, as his others were all full) at one of the tables. Sadi coiled herself tightly next to him, and Zuri sent the two of them a concerned glance as she pulled out her own piece of parchment to finish her Herbology essay.

"What's got you guys so glum?" Zacharias Smith's cheerful voice intruded as he sat down across from them. "Aren'tcha excited for the Feast tonight?"

"No," Harry said, looking up from his coloring book with a wrinkled nose. "It's smelly. Too sweet."

"Too sweet?" Zacharias repeated. "Mate, that's what the Halloween Feast is all about! To eat yourself sick on desserts while your parents can say nothing about it! Or, guardians, anyway," he amended, suddenly remembering the circumstances of Harry's own parents.

"I don't like sweets," Harry interjected before he could continue. "They make me feel icky."

Hermione hummed and told Zacharias, "He doesn't even like fruit because it's too sweet for him. He likes saltier foods better."

Zacharias shook his head disbelievingly. "Crazy, mate," he said frankly. "But anyway, there's other food there, too – healthy food and shite. It is still a dinner, after all. Just…more pumpkins than usual."

"I don't know if I'll be there for too long, anyway," Harry told him, absentmindedly tapping his crayon against the table. "Even just the smell…" He shuddered with disgust. "Just smelling it from in here is enough to shake my stomach."

"Well, I'll probably be in too much of a food coma to notice much, anyway," Zacharias decided. "Madam Pomfrey always has dozens of stomach soother potions at the front of her cabinet at the feasts – I'll definitely need them again this year!" With a laugh, he bid them farewell with a wave of his hand, going over to talk with Wayne.

"Harry, we really don't have to go to the Feast if it bothers you that much," Zuri told him as soon as Zacharias had left.

"I'm sure I'll be okay," he easily dismissed. "Like he said, there will be other food there, and we'll be hungry if we don't eat."

His friend looked conflicted, so he smiled crookedly at her, easily guessing what was on her mind. "I'm okay, Zuri," he finally spoke to get rid of the uncertainty that had been shrouding the two of them all day. "I'm sad, but I'm not dwelling on it. I hardly remember them."

"But they were your parents," Zuri insisted sadly. "It just seems so wrong that everyone else is celebrating when this is the anniversary of the night your life completely changed."

"And what if they hadn't died?" Harry mused. "What if they lived, but Voldemort never died, either? Would I have a life much better? Or would Sirius or Salim maybe have died? Or, since you're a muggleborn, maybe he would've targeted you and your family. Maybe you would just be another name on a list of deaths by Voldemort's side. What if I hadn't lived with the snakes, or you hadn't been in the Hospital Wing that day I was planning on escaping as soon as I was able? Maybe I would've had a normal life, raised by human parents and had a pet crup and a little brother or sister. Maybe I wouldn't have Sadi as a little sister, and I might have been one of those humans Sueva warned me about, who likes hurting snakes. Maybe Sueva wouldn't have died in the first place, because she wouldn't be trying to defend me just as James and Lily did before. Maybe I never would've met you. Maybe, if I hadn't had the experiences I did, I would be right next to Boipelo in bullying you and anyone else in my line of sight. Maybe we would never have become best friends." He finally looked at her to see tears pooling in her eyes. He grasped one of her hands in his, stroking Sadi's head with the other.

"It's sad that they're dead, Zuri," he conceded. "But even after that, I can't say I'm unhappy with how the rest of my life turned out. Having Sirius and Salim as my parents is wonderful, I couldn't ask for a better sister in Sadi, and having you as my very best and most important friend is something I couldn't have imagined in the lonely early days as a snake. So I can't bring myself to be as sad as Sirius and Salim are today."

Hermione said nothing, but threw her arms around Harry's neck, letting her actions speak for themselves.

Tom was nothing short of ecstatic. To finally be written in after fifty years was…exhilarating. Freeing. He didn't care who it was that would write in his diary – he was sure that he would be able to sway even the strongest soul. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, and Slytherins were known for their powers of persuasion – even to the point that someone unaware wouldn't even suspect that they were being persuaded.

Not that it had really been much of a challenge, he scoffed. The one to write on his pages had been so quickly and easily ensnared that it was almost disappointing. It was much too easy – after fifty years, he would've hoped for a bit more of a challenge. Something that might have given him some interest after fifty years of boring nothingness.

Of course, it hadn't felt like exactly fifty years – time passed differently in the diary. Still, it was enough time that he had gotten immensely bored, and begun to plot.

Perhaps that was the reason it was so sickeningly easy to ensnare the child. Of course, no mind could resist against the powers of Lord Voldemort for long, but still the child could have at least attempted to be more prepared against the assault to his soul.

Ah, well. The child would be useful, anyway. He guessed a few months from now, he would have a body. Then he could find that little snot of a child who thought he could defeat him as a baby. Harry Potter would die by his hand before the school year was out.

But first, he would hit him where it hurt the most.

And do a little housekeeping while he was at it.

He reached out with his mental powers, touching the child's soul and convincing them to pick up the diary – to start writing again.

Hello, Tom – he could feel as the child wrote, hearing the voice in his mind rather than actually seeing a physical thing – and it was with those two words that he was able to slip into the foolish child's body, increasing his grip on the pure soul as it began to nourish his own.

He blinked open his eyes – the child's eyes – seeing everything as though through a film, with a slight blur.

But it was enough to do what he needed.

He looked down the corridor, stowing the diary in his robe pocket. Everyone was moving toward the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast. Anyone noticing a child gone would suppose they were homesick – no one would be bothering him.

His lips curved into a very un-childlike manner.

Perfect.

Harry was only at the Feast for a few minutes, just enough to eat some semblance of dinner, before he thought he might be sick at the smell. Slightly choking at the scents of all the sweet foods, he told Zuri he couldn't handle the smell anymore. With concern, she tried to get up to come with him, but he told her to keep eating with Xylon. She hadn't eaten enough, and he didn't want her hungry on account of him. Reluctantly, she sat back down, and he quickly made his way out of the Great Hall.

Gagging, he made his way to the nearest bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing cold water into his face. Breathing deeply, the smell was only faint now, and the cool water was making his stomach settle easier.

Why do I have such an adverse reaction to sweet things? He wondered as he leaned on his hands over the sink. I am human – even just in the form of one, why do I have the same reactions in human form as I do in snake? No one else has trouble eating fruit – most people prefer fruit to vegetables, even. So why am I so different?

Shaking his head, he straightened, supposing he would never get an answer to some things.

Just another mystery to add to my whole snake-human situation, he thought with a sigh, leaving the bathroom and walking down the corridor. He had no intention of going back to the Great Hall, and the Hufflepuff Common Room was too close to it for him to hope he wouldn't smell it from there.

So, he made his way up the stairs, wandering aimlessly about. He chatted with a couple of nearby portraits, many of whom wondered why he wasn't at the Feast. He explained simply by saying that he didn't like pumpkins or the smell of them, and on Halloween it was particularly strong. It was true, but not the whole story. He didn't really care for the countless questions that would follow if he told more than that. He wished he could talk to Sadi, but she had gone to the forest earlier, not wanting to deal with the awful smells from the Feast for any longer. He understood. He was contemplating making a trip soon into what was once his home as well.

The Feast was probably almost over when he was making his way down a corridor on the second floor. He was considering going back down to the first floor when the hairs on the back of his neck rose in warning. Glancing around quickly and tasting the air, he knew that no one was lying in wait to attack him – but something was definitely wrong.

He quickened his pace just slightly, walking down the corridor, and the feeling of danger increased with every step.

Abruptly he came to a halt, coming upon the last scene he might have expected – a scene that turned his stomach in much the same way the sweet foods had an hour or so beforehand.

As he stared at the scene in front of him, he distantly noted the sound of several pairs of feet making their way toward the corridor. It seemed as though the whole school was coming to see, though of course he knew logically that they were just making their way back from the Feast to their dorms.

The chattering slowed to a stop as they all saw the same thing. Mrs. Norris, the cat who belonged to Mr. Filch, was strung up on the wall. Next to her were the bloody words –

The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened

Enemies of the Heir, Beware

And in front of it all was the odd boy everyone knew about – looking very, very guilty.

Okay so in last chapter's author's note, I said this one would be pretty great, but I'll admit that it was pretty slow. And short. The scene I was thinking of should be next chapter.

Thanks for reading!