Author's Note: And here's the second part of the update! One scene was written rather hastily since I have a lot packing left for my trip. But I wanted to get the chapter out before I left. I might just revise the scene when I'm back, and correct the mistakes if any, since I didn't get time to read through it all again. Do let us know how you find this chapter, since we're a little apprehensive about how it'll be received. And I forgot to thank all those who've reviewed with words of support for Chapter 27 after a few negative reviews that we got :-) So, thank you all!


Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR, except any original characters that you may spot. Recoginisable parts of this chapter have been taken from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I own nothing.


Chapter 29 : The Very Secret Diary

"Ginny!" he repeated, his voice a mere whisper; and he somehow knew that it wasn't Ginny in the little female body.

"Harry Potter," said Ginny, her voice nothing like her usual sweet voice, but a rasping male one. "We finally meet again!"

"You—you—" began Harry, but Ginny cut him off, twirling her wand between her fingers; and he tightened his grasp on his own wand, which was still pointing at Ginny.

"You helped slay the Basilisk of my great ancestor, Harry Potter," said Ginny, her red eyes now gleaming, and Harry's suspicions were now confirmed for the voice was the same one which had come out of the back of Quirrell's head.
It was Voldemort! Voldemort had possessed Ginny! And not the way he'd possessed Quirrell, for Quirrell had at least still been in his body. But Ginny? She seemed to be nowhere in her little frame – it was Voldemort…all Voldemort! And how was he supposed to even fight Voldemort? He'd fought Quirrell by touching him, making Quirrell die of his burns. But he couldn't do that to Ginny! Voldemort was such a sadistic bastard! Possessing a helpless, innocent young girl! Quirrell had still gone out at his own wish, seeking Voldemort, seeking power! But Ginny? Harry was sure she'd never asked for this. And that made him even more furious at Voldemort.

"You get out of Ginny! Leave her alone!" Harry yelled, his anger now rising, as his grip on his wand tightened impossibly harder.

And Ginny – or rather, Voldemort – laughed a deep, rasping laugh that sent another shiver down Harry's spine. And from somewhere within him, he could feel Acquila worrying about him. And he, inexplicably, knew that she was coming into the Chamber.

'No, Acquila! Don't come!' he thought out loud in his mind, hoping their strange mental connection would get his words through to her. But he heard no answering reply. And he knew that she was nearing him…he could feel some part of him reaching out to her…calling out to her, as the prickling of his scar increased.

"Get out of Ginny?" Voldemort spoke through Ginny, before laughing again. "What did you think, Potter? That you would destroy Salazar Slytherin's Basilisk, and I would do nothing? You thwarted me twice, boy! Once on that Halloween night, and then last year, in my efforts to get the Philosopher's Stone!"

Ginny's usually pretty face – a part of his mind absently registered that he'd thought Ginny was pretty – was now contorted in rage and fury, making her seem scarier than Harry had ever thought Ron's little sister could look.

"But you won't get lucky a third time, Potter," snarled Ginny. "Dumbledore isn't here to save you tonight, is he? And your dear godfather is probably—"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" shouted Harry, making the most of Voldemort's preoccupation with his angry tirade, but the Dark Lord was too quick for him. And a thick shield suddenly sprung up between them, swallowing the red jet of light from Harry's wand – a shield that certainly wasn't Protego, but something darker, for the swallowed spell multiplied into three spells which shot out towards Harry in a split second, and if Harry's grip on his wand hadn't been tight enough, if his Shield Charm hadn't been strong enough, his wand would surely have gone flying. He mentally thanked Sirius and Remus for having taught him about duelling basics.

"You think you can defeat me with a simple Disarming Spell? Defeat Lord Voldemort?" sneered Ginny, the sneer making her face look even more malicious. "If you want battle, Potter, a battle you shall have! I have waited twelve years to kill you, Harry Potter! And tonight will mark your end—"

"Petrificus Totallus!" yelled Harry, deciding that he had no more time to waste. Acquila would come in any moment now. He could feel her coming closer…feel her nearing him…and he knew he had to deal with Voldemort before she came in. He couldn't put her in danger.

The spell went zooming towards Ginny, but with a wave of her wand, it disappeared midway. And to Harry's horror, a very familiar green-coloured jet of light flew towards him.

"Avada Kedavra!" came the rasped voice from Ginny's mouth, and Harry dodged the jet of green, his scar throbbing with pain greater than he had ever felt, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, and his mind filled with terror, adrenaline rushing through his every vein.

How would he even duel Voldemort? He couldn't even use any harmful attacking spells, because though he was duelling Voldemort, the Dark wizard was in Ginny's body! And Harry couldn't hurt Ginny at any cost!

"Ginny! Don't let him possess you, Ginny! Throw him out!" Harry yelled helplessly. Quirrell had willingly let Voldemort possess him. But he was sure that in Ginny's case, Voldemort had forcefully possessed her. And that meant that Ginny was still in her body – repressed by Voldemort's soul…fighting for control of herself, perhaps.

"Protego—GINNY! Don't let him—STUPEFY! EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry shrieked, sending spells at Voldemort.

But Harry was no match for the Dark wizard; the curses from Ginny's wand came at a far faster rate than his own. And the water on the floor wasn't making things any easier for Harry. He was worried that he would slip and fall down while attempting to dodge the incoming spells.

But Harry did notice something as he sent spells at the redhead. He saw that the power behind the spells Voldemort was sending wasn't as great, wasn't as immense as he'd expected it to be – one of his spells had even been stopped by Harry's shield charm. And Harry realised that it was because Voldemort was possessing Ginny's body – a body of an eleven year-old girl whose magical core still hadn't matured, still hadn't turned powerful. And Ginny's body was probably tired with the first few powerful spells it sent. Perhaps, with some smart duelling, he could overpower Voldemort and force him out of Ginny, though admittedly, he had no clue of how to go about doing that. How could he force Voldemort out of Ginny? How could he make him leave her alone? Sirius and Remus had never told him anything of such Dark Magic during all the times they'd trained together.

"Think of Ron, Ginny!" he urged the girl hidden under Voldemort's possession of her body. "Think—Petrificus Totallus—of Mrs. Weasley! Throw him out of you, Ginny—Protego—Your family loves you! Think of Fred and George—" Harry continued to urge her, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flash of brown in Ginny's scarlet eyes. But the brown disappeared so soon, that Harry wondered whether he had imagined it.

"CRUCIO!" came Voldemort's voice again, and Harry flung himself out of the way of the spell, before putting up another Shield Charm as he hastily stood up on his feet again.

"INCARCEROUS!" Harry yelled the first spell that came to his mind, and the spell surprisingly found its mark.

And Ginny –Voldemort, rather – looked rather amused for a moment, bound though she was in thick ropes.

"An Incarcerous, Potter—" began Voldemort.

"STUPEFY!" yelled Harry.

"—is this all you have got?" completed Voldemort, deflecting the Stupefying Spell with a spell of his own, before vanishing the ropes.

"You're one to talk!" snapped Harry heatedly. "Look at what you are! Possessing an eleven year-old girl! You're pathetic, Voldemort!"

"YOU DARE—" snarled Voldemort furiously, before the sound of feet splashing through the water neared them.

And for a moment, Ginny's pale face turned even paler. And Harry wondered whether that was because Voldemort was scared of being discovered – after all, from what Voldemort had said earlier, it seemed as if he'd chosen to come to Hogwarts that night only because Dumbledore wasn't in the school.

"Acquila Black," said the Voldemort in a fierce whisper, as Acquila's nightrobe-clad body came into view, her wand raised, her long, dark tresses dishevelled, and her eyes blazing angrily.

"Leave Harry alone!" said Acquila furiously, rushing over to Harry's side. And to Harry's surprise, Voldemort didn't even attempt to cast a spell at her as she ran towards Harry. And a moment later, as Ginny's pale face turned to face them both, Harry realised why.
Voldemort wanted to kill them both. Kill them together…watch their dead bodies lying on the watery floor…to be devoured by the—He shook his head, trying to clear it off the thoughts enveloping his mind. If he didn't know any better, he'd have said he was reading into Voldemort's thoughts! His head throbbed harder than ever – the scar throbbing, Voldemort's thoughts seeming to flood through his mind, with Acquila's thoughts intermingled with them…He wished he could just clear his mind of it all. The thoughts were distracting him; taking his attention away from the duel; making it strenuous for him to distinguish between the voices blaring in his mind…making it difficult to voice his own thoughts above the male and female voices in his brain.

"Power!" said Voldemort. "Such power, Acquila Black! It seems to be swirling through you! Just like Bella—"

"SILENCIO!" shouted Acquila angrily, and Harry could feel her temper rise at being likened to the one witch she hated being compared with – Bellatrix Lestrange.

But he wished she'd used a better spell. Silencio was all right to shut Voldemort up, but he'd have preferred something like Stupefy or Petrificus Totallus, after all Acquila's magic was a lot more powerful than Harry's.

But suddenly, he felt Acquila readying herself to attack. And he felt his mouth form the words of the spell, felt his wrist perform the wand movement, as Acquila and he attacked together— their minds in complete sync with the other's, their spells meeting midway and flying towards Voldemort as one, just as Ginny negated the Silencing Charm.

"Stupefy! Petrificus Totallus! Expelliarmus!" They shouted together; their wands twirling, their wrists turning together, their feet moving like mirror images of the other's…as if they were part of a strange dance.

And the very first Stupefying Spells from Harry and Acquila's wands, which merged into one in mid-air, had Ginny's mouth open slightly in astonishment. And Harry knew that Voldemort had noticed the weird connection between Acquila and him… But Voldemort seemed to have gotten over his surprise real soon, for he quickly resumed duelling them.

They continued sending spells at him – some of them hitting Voldemort's shield charms, some of them being deflected by Voldemort – along with dodging the Crutiatus and Killing Curses. But the Dark Lord – even in a little girl's body – was an unbeatable opponent for the two of them. And the hesitation behind each spell they sent, the fear of harming Ginny, was weighing them down.

"Argh!" yelped Harry suddenly, as a Slashing Curse hit him right on his arm.

"No!" gasped Acquila, and Harry knew that she could feel his pain, feel the blood trickling down his wound.

"You evil bastard!" she yelled furiously at the wraith possessing Ginny, her anger rising impossibly high at Harry's injury.

"Ossum Rumpero!" she shouted, twirling her wand in an intricate motion, uttering the incantation of a Dark spell which Harry and she had read in a book belonging to the Blacks.

"NO! DON'T HURT GINNY!" Harry yelled, but the curse flew faster than Harry had expected, flying right towards Ginny's wand arm. Ginny's left arm rose forward to stop the spell, and Harry heard the sickening 'snap' of a bone being broken.

"The Bone Breaking Curse? You are a true Black, aren't you? A Dark witch!" said Ginny in the spine-chilling voice, while Acquila herself seemed shocked at the spell she had sent. And Harry could feel that she hadn't wanted to hurt Ginny. But Acquila would do anything to save Harry – even if it meant hurting Ginny, or worse, killing her.

And just as Harry tried to shake off Acquila's thoughts, he went flying into a pillar by Voldemort's swift spell.

"HARRY!" Acquila screamed, but before even Harry could voice that he was alright, he knew that Acquila knew he wasn't badly injured.

And she turned to face Ginny again, her black tresses wildly framing her face, her eyes darkened with anger, her voice a feral snarl that seemed unlike anything Acquila had ever sounded – and she shouted, "STUPEFY!"

But Voldemort's Disarming Spell hit her the moment her spell left her wand, and Acquila's Dragon Heartstring wand went flying out of her hand.

"You are without a wand now, girl," said Voldemort, his scarlet eyes glinting in the dim light in the Chamber. "You are of the purest of blood! And with immense power! What an addition you will make to my—" Voldemort fell silent abruptly, as Acquila extended her hand, and from the very tip of her fingers, out shot a jet of light.

Voldemort deflected the spell easily, but his eyes now lit up with what Harry thought, was desire and greed. And he thought he sensed Voldemort thinking of how great an addition Acquila would make to his followers. She didn't seem averse to using Dark Magic, as she had proved by her use of the Bone Breaking Curse. And her magical power only made her even more coveted. He wanted her! The girl with the purest of blood on her father's side…with power as immense as he himself had displayed at twelve.

"Petrificus Totallus!" yelled Harry, standing up to his feet now. But Voldemort blocked that as well.

"Run, Harry!" shouted Acquila, and he saw jets of light shooting from her outstretched fingers. And he knew that the spells were shooting off their own accord, just like they'd shot out of his own wand last year while facing Quirrell. Acquila didn't even know the spells that were flying off her fingers…it was all her magic working on its own…like Harry's magic had worked last year.

And he knew that Voldemort wouldn't kill Acquila now. He wanted to kill only Harry; for Acquila was far too valuable to be killed.

"Harry, run! I'll hold him off!" shouted Acquila again, not taking her eyes of the duelling redhead.

And in Harry's mind rose a sudden, unbidden memory:

"Lily! Take Harry and run! I'll hold him off!"

It was his father's voice! It was James! And it seemed to be Voldemort's memory, for he could see his Mother running up the staircase with a little Harry in her arms. While James stood tall and unarmed, fearlessly facing—

"Aargh!" Harry groaned, sinking to the wet floor, holding his scar, which seemed to be threatening to split his head into two with the pain; and he shut his eyes, willing the memory to go away, not wanting to see his parents dying, wanting to help Acquila duel with Voldemort, wanting to at least open his eyes to see what was happening. But the pain refused to cease.

And suddenly, he wasn't seeing his father, but hearing Acquila's thoughts. He knew what she was going to do. She was finding it tough to control her magic anyway. And she was going to let go of whatever little hold she had on her magic! Just like she'd done while defeating the Troll in the bathroom last year. She was hoping the blast of her magic would explode the Chamber…have the ceiling falling over Ginny-Voldemort…so that Harry would get a chance to run to safety…to save his life.

"NOOOOO!" he shouted. But he'd hardly attempted to pull himself off the ground, when he saw Acquila's magic bursting out of her, like a blast of transparent, glimmering light. And the Chamber exploded, sending bits of the stony ceiling, of the snake-adorned pillars, of the stony walls flying through the air. He threw himself against the wall, barely taking himself out of the way of a falling giant piece of stone. And when he opened his eyes, coughing as the air swirled with dust, he saw the lower half of Ginny's body buried under stony rubble, her head bleeding, her eyes shut; she was unconscious. And he knew that Voldemort wouldn't possess her now. Her injured body was of no use to him for duelling Harry.

He saw Acquila prostrate on the ground, uninjured, right in the centre of the Chamber. She seemed to have escaped the explosion; or perhaps, it was her magic that had shielded her from the exploding stones. But—No! NO! He couldn't sense her in his mind, at all! As if there was a gaping hole…not just in his mind, but in his soul, in his heart, in his very being! As if she was…dead?

"ACQUILA!" he yelled, rushing towards her; but from the corner of his eyes, he saw something rising out of Ginny's unconscious body – a cloud of black smoke…no, black dust… A cloud of something dark and black, that had a blurry face, with slits for nostrils, and scarlet eyes – VOLDEMORT!

And before the black cloud even rose fully out of Ginny's body, Harry knew what was going to happen.

"NO!" he screamed, powerless, as Voldemort's wraith flew up in the dusty air and zoomed down into Acquila instead – the only living thing in the room he could possess, for he didn't dare possess Harry. And though Harry was relieved that Acquila was alive, his relief was short-lived.

And he screamed his lungs out again, his throat burning as he shouted in pain; and he could swear his scar had split his forehead into two, for a part of his mind registered something wet trickling down his forehead. And still gripping his wand with his right hand, he clapped the left hand to his scar and brought his hand before his almost-shut eyes, only to see his blood smeared on his fingers. His scar was bleeding. Perhaps, his very forehead was splitting open – the pain surely seemed like it.

Pain! Excruciating pain! And it wasn't just his scar that was aching and bleeding. If felt as if he was bleeding from every nerve, from every inch of his skin…as if his entire being was buried under an unearthly weight…as if a mountain of something dark, of something impossibly weighty and sinister, was descending on his head, on his body, on his very soul…repressing him, pushing him down… and if this was what pain really felt like, he thought he would prefer dying.

He heard Voldemort's rasping voice coming from a distance; and he tried to push the pain away…tried to open his eyes. But he couldn't! It was as if his eyes were refusing to open…to spare him the pain of seeing the girl who'd been the best friend he'd ever had, being possessed by t he vilest man he'd ever known.

But in a little part of his mind, he imagined Acquila opening her eyes, the bright grey eyes he so loved turning into a fearsome, inhuman scarlet – Acquila! He felt as if he was holding on to her with a thin thread that could snap any moment…as if he was losing her…forever…

No! Acquila! He had to get over his pain! He had to do push away the pain…for he had to save Acquila! He couldn't let Voldemort possess her…he wouldn't let Voldemort possess her…because he loved her! Loved her more than everyone else in the world put together…more than he'd ever thought he could possibly love someone! With the greatest effort that it had ever cost him, with strength that he didn't even know existed in him, he pushed the pain away, pushed the dark weight away, and thought of how much he loved Acquila. And suddenly, he heard a blood-curling, inhuman roar of pain coming from Acquila – in Voldemort's voice!

And all of a sudden, the excruciating pain came to an abrupt stop, lessening to the previous tolerable throbbing of his scar. And as he opened his eyes, groping around for his glasses which seemed to have fallen off, he saw a blurry image of the black cloud fly out of Acquila…and zoom upwards into the destroyed ceiling of the Chamber. And Harry, somehow, knew that Voldemort would never dare come back to Hogwarts…wouldn't dare possess Acquila again.


A few minutes ago,

Hermione slept soundly in her bed in the Girls' dormitory. But her sleep was rudely interrupted when something jumped right on top of her, waking her up with a start. She let out a scream, only to see two green eyes staring back at her.

"NYX!" she exclaimed, looking at the cat, which was mewing loudly as it stood on Hermione's stomach.

"Shut your cat up, Acquila!" came Parvati's muffled, annoyed voice.

But Nyx only mewed louder, pawing at the blanket that covered Hermione.

"Urgh! Shut up, Nyx!" Hermione groaned, before sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes blearily. And the cat jumped off her, and onto the floor.

"Meow! Meaoww!" Nyx mewed again, as if trying to tell Hermione something, before the cat wriggled through the hangings around Hermione's bed.

Hermione groaned, pulling apart the hangings, deciding to wake Acquila up and tell her to take handle her pet before Parvati and Lavender threw a fit at having their beauty sleep disturbed.

But her eyes widened as she saw that the hangings around the bed were open – which they generally never were – and Acquila wasn't in bed!

Hermione felt her heartbeats increasing a little in pace. What was Acquila doing out of bed this late at night? And the fact that she Nyx had woken her up probably meant that Acquila was in some kind of danger – for Nyx always seemed in tune with Acquila. And hadn't Harry told her that Sirius had told the cat to protect Acquila?

She picked up her wand, and cast a Lumos Charm, before walking swiftly towards the bathroom, just to make sure that Acquila wasn't in there. But the bathroom was empty.

"Come on," she whispered to the cat, who rushed quickly down the dormitory staircase, and into the Common Room. But Acquila wasn't there either. Hermione followed the cat, only to see it pawing at the Portrait Hole, wanting to be let out.

"Acquila went out, then?" exclaimed Hermione.

The cat merely mewed aloud, continuing to scratch at the Portrait Hole, green eyes shining eerily in the dim light of the Common Room.

"Come! Let's get the boys!" said Hermione, knowing Harry had the Marauders' Map, from which they could locate Acquila – if Harry was still in the Tower. With Acquila out, Hermione was sure Harry would've accompanied her, too.

And she rushed into the Boys' dormitory, with Nyx running ahead of her, her soft paws making no sound on the floor.

And true to her suspicions, the hangings around Harry's bed were wide open, with his bed just as empty as Acquila's was.

And she shuddered on remembering the last time Harry and Acquila had wandered off after curfew, barely escaping being killed or petrified by the Basilisk, which had then made Colin its victim.

She walked towards Ron's bed and started shaking him, trying to wake him up.

"Wake up Ron!" she whispered, but Ron swatted her hand away.

"Go 'way, 'Arry," Ron mumbled, before pulling the covers over his head.

"Wake up, Ronald!" she repeated, pulling the covers off his head.

"Umph—go 'way! Lemme sleep!" Ron grumbled.

"Ron! Wake up!" she said sharply, and Ron opened his eyes right away, beginning to scream on seeing Hermione, but the bushy-haired girl quickly placed her hand on his mouth, muffling his voice.

A series of unintelligible grunts from the adjacent bed had the two Gryffindors looking towards the source of the sound. It was Neville. Nyx seemed to have woken him up.

"Hermione!" squeaked Neville on spotting her, instinctively tightening his nightrobe around him, his cheeks pink.

"Shhh!" said Hermione finally, cocking a look at Dean and Seamus' beds, before she looked at the two boys. "Acquila and Harry are missing!" she exclaimed in a whisper, as they turned to look at Harry's empty bed.

"They must have gone for a stroll like last time..." said Ron hopefully, though Hermione noticed he didn't sound certain.

"Yeah," mumbled Neville. "They must have gone out to check some other secret passage they found on the Marauders' Map…" he said thoughtfully. Harry and Acquila had told them of the Map recently. And Neville had seen the two of them poring over every inch of the Map, their eyes gleaming when they found a hitherto unknown passage or shortcut. And he knew that Acquila, especially, had been keen on checking out every secret route the Map contained.

"Where does Harry keep the Map?" Hermione asked Ron. "Acquila had given it to him last evening…"

"In his trunk," said Ron, pointing at it, but not coming out from under the covers.

"Stop behaving like a lazy bum! Get up and get it!" said Hermione irritably. Ron shot out from under the covers, before tugging at his too-short pyjamas which showed quite a bit of his ankles, the tips of his ears turning red.

He walked over to Harry's bed and opened his trunk. And there lay the Map, looking as if Harry had just thrown it in hastily. Ron handed it over to Hermione.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good!" muttered Hermione, tapping the Map, and the blank piece of parchment came to life.

The three of them frantically looked through the Map, scouring through hallways, classrooms, dormitories, offices, the grounds, and even the secret passages but Harry and Acquila were nowhere to be seen.

"Where are they?" muttered Neville.

But Hermione's expression cleared as she realised something.

"The only place the Map doesn't show is the Chamber of Secrets," she said.

"Merlin!" groaned Ron. "Why would they want to go there? And Harry's already been there once…he said it was a dead depressing place…gloomy and dark…and with skeletons of rats and—"

"Acquila might have wanted to see it," put in Neville. "And it isn't as if its dangerous…the Basilisk's dead…"

"Meow!" mewed Nyx loudly, before proceeding to tug at the ends of Hermione's night robes with her teeth. "Meowww!"

"I think we'd better go after them," said Hermione slowly, looking at the cat which seemed determined to drag her out of the room.

"And how do we go after them?" asked Ron. "We don't know where the Chamber is!"

"I know where it is," said Hermione.

"WHAT!" exclaimed Ron, before Hermione and Neville shushed him. "What!" he amended in a lower tone. "How do you know? Acquila told you, did she? But she didn't tell me! Or Neville, for that matter—"

"I figured it out myself, Ron," said Hermione tersely. "Follow me!" she added, before she walked out of the room, with the cat following her. And the two bewildered boys followed her quickly.

They walked down the dark and quiet hallway, their wands in their hands, intermittently checking the Map for any sign of the two missing children, with Hermione telling them how she'd figured out where the Chamber was.

"I think we'd better tell a teacher," said Hermione as they descended another staircase, only for Ron to snort.

"No," he said. "Do you want them to be punished for wandering out after curfew? The Basilisk's dead! I'm sure they aren't in danger… If we tell a teacher, they'll get detention…and there'll be points taken off Gryffindor, too! Then you'll have to deal with Acquila's temper when she gets mad at you for having told a teacher!"

"Ron's right," said Neville, almost tripping over Nyx. "But…should we have told Sirius? Though the Two-Way Mirror?"

Hermione and Ron stopped in their tracks, both looking at the other.

"We'll have to go all the way back to the Tower," said Ron. "We'd better go and look for them first…and I'm sure they aren't in danger…it isn't as if Salazar Slytherin's statue in the Chamber is going to come to life and duel them!" he added, recollecting Harry having told him of the statue. Harry hadn't seen the statue as he hadn't been into the Chamber, but Sirius had described the monkey-like face of the statue to him.

"And even if Slytherin does come to life, he won't harm Acquila, mind you…She's the Black Heiress and all that…" Ron added.

"Yeah," put in Neville. "And she'll probably explode the statue if it tried to hurt Harry…she can get really scary when she's angry!"

"Yes, mate," agreed Ron. "Remember the day she got mad over that news report on Sirius and Nigella Flint—"

"Boys," sighed Hermione. "Can we concentrate on the—Shhhh!" she said suddenly, as they heard the sound of footsteps nearing them. With the kind of luck they had, she was sure it was someone like Snape nearing them.

They took a few hasty steps into the dark corridor they'd just walked through, as Ron quickly checked the Map.

"It's Lockhart!" said Ron in an exasperated whisper, pulling Hermione behind a suit of armour, as Neville hid behind another one, with Nyx in his arms.

"Why are we hiding?" whispered Hermione irritably. "We can take him with us! He's a teacher…he'll help us…and he'll never give Harry detention for being out after curfew!" she said, making to go towards Lockhart, who was walking right into the corridor they were in.

"No!" said Ron sharply, holding on to Hermione's arm. "He's stupid! And a big fraud!"

"He's a hero!" said Hermione indignantly. "Haven't you read any of the DADA books?" she demanded, before she suddenly pinched Ron, who yelped in pain, letting go of his grip on her arm.

And she jumped out from behind the suit of armour, right in the path of an unsuspecting Lockhart, who screamed like a banshee.

"Professor! It's me...Hermione!" said Hermione, as Ron and Neville got out from behind the suits of armour, snickering at Lockhart's pale, scared face.

"Mi—Miss G—Granger!" exclaimed Lockhart, seeming to collect his frightened self. "You startled me! I wasn't scared, mind you…I was just—"

"Sorry, Professor," Hermione apologised profusely. "I didn't mean to—"

"No, no!" said Lockhart, coming back to his usual cheery self. "It's quite all right, dear. I'm accustomed to such night-time scares...as you may have read in my books—"

"Yes, Professor!" exclaimed Hermione. "That incident with the Werewolf in Staffordshire…when the Werewolf lunged at you at midnight—"

"Hermione!" interjected Ron pointedly. "We aren't here to discuss his books!" And Nyx mewed, as if agreeing with Ron.

"Oh, yes!" said Lockhart. "What are you three doing out of your dormitories after curfew?"

"Professor, we need your help," said Hermione. "Harry and Acquila are missing and... umm...we think they are in the Chamber of Secrets…."

Ron, meanwhile, discreetly handed over the Map to Neville, who stuffed it in his pocket, not trusting Hermione to keep the Map a secret. If Lockhart asked them how they knew Harry and Acquila were in the Chamber, Hermione would probably hand over the Map to him, going by the way she was fawning over him! And Ron knew that Sirius, Remus, Harry and Acquila would hate seeing the Map in Lockhart's hands.

"The Chamber of Secrets? What are they doing there?" exclaimed Lockhart.

"We don't know, Professor—" began Hermione.

"And we don't know where the Chamber is!" put in Ron, not wanting to take Lockhart into the Chamber with them. Even if Acquila and Harry were in danger, Ron knew that taking Lockhart with them would serve no purpose.

"We know where the Chamber is!" said Hermione indignantly, glaring at Ron.

"I think it's in the Girls' bathroom on the second floor—the one Myrtle used to haunt…a girl was killed in 1943, when the Chamber was opened…and I think the girl was Myrtle…and Myrtle died in the bathroom…that's why she used to haunt it…and she was petrified near the bathroom, too… Colin was petrified right in the corridor which is a few metres away from the bathroom…and the Aurors kept flitting around the second floor! So the entrance has to be in the bathroom!" exclaimed Hermione, telling Lockhart what she'd told Ron and Neville a few minutes ago.

"Oh, Miss Granger! I had figured this out months ago! The Aurors found the entrance because of me!" exclaimed Lockhart, as Ron and Neville grimaced in annoyance. "But I let them take the credit for it, of course! They couldn't have had the public knowing that an elite force like the Aurors needed help from a Professor—"

"We're wasting time!" said Ron through gritted teeth.

"Oh! Yes, yes! Let's go!" said Lockhart. "Let's rescue Harry Potter and the Black Heiress!" he added, sure that there was no real danger involved as the Basilisk was dead.

"I think we should tell another teacher," said Neville slowly, not trusting Lockhart at all, as he remembered what Remus had told him about the fraudulent DADA Professor.

"No, Neil—" began Lockhart.

"Neville," Neville corrected him, but Lockhart continued on.

"—my experience is more than enough for this task. I've faced all kinds of fearsome creatures singlehandedly. I can certainly help Harry and Acquila! We don't need to bother any other professor," said Lockhart, leading the way towards the bathroom.

"What were you doing in the corridor at this time, Professor?" asked Hermione suddenly.

"Me? My curling irons stopped working…thought I'd borrow Sinistra's…had to curl my hair in time for the match tomorrow…" said Lockhart, before letting out a forced, cheery laugh. "Never you mind, Miss Granger!" he said, as Ron and Neville gaped at the professor with disgusted looks on their faces, and they walked the next few paces in relative silence.


"Hermione, you're brilliant!" exclaimed Ron, as they finally entered the bathroom, and saw a sink missing. Instead of the sink, there was a big pipe circling down, wide enough for a man to go through. Hermione blushed.

"The entrance is open," said Neville. "So, Harry and Acquila have gone down there. You were right about that, too, Hermione!"

"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!" said Lockhart said dramatically, stepping towards the big hole. "Oh goody! There's a moving staircase to go down. My robes won't get dirty!" he exclaimed, as Ron snorted in disgust.

"Let's go," said Hermione, thinking Lockhart would step in first, being the teacher.

But Lockhart merely said, "Witches first!" with a wide smile on his face.

"You're the Defence teacher!" exclaimed Ron, outraged. "You're supposed to lead us."

"I—err—welll…okay..." said Lockhart uncertainly, staring at the pitch black, seemingly-bottomless pit of the pipe, with the staircase seeming to disappear within its depths.

He stepped on the moving staircase, and it carried him down. Ron, Neville and Hermione followed, with Neville still carrying Nyx.

After what seemed like ages, they finally reached the end of the staircase and got off the stairs. They looked around the huge tunnel they were standing in, a layer of water on the floor below.

As they walked a little further, they saw rat skeletons below their feet. And Lockhart looked like he would faint any second.

"We must be miles under the school," said Neville, his voice echoing, as Nyx struggled in his arms. But he didn't let go of her, not wanting Acquila's cat to rush ahead, in case there was indeed danger.

It was complete darkness ahead.

"Lumos!" Hermione muttered, and her wand lit up. The others copied her, and four beams of light lit up the tunnel before them. They went forward, Lockhart grudgingly leading the way, and they bent round a dark turn in the tunnel.

"There's something up ahead," said Hermione, who was right behind Lockhart.

Lockhart froze and took a step back, as he spotted the huge, winding thing lying before them, colliding into Hermione and sending her tumbling onto the wet floor.

"That must be the huge snakeskin Harry had told us—Umph—" she groaned as her bottom hit the wet floor.

"Eww!" she exclaimed, as she saw her soaked robed. Ron extended his hand to help her to her feet, but it was Lockhart's extended hand that she took, blushing, making Ron's face contort in irritation.

"Snakeskin! I knew it all along," said Lockhart, walking towards the snakeskin, as Hermione tried to siphon the water off her robes. "I stepped back you warn you kids."

The four of them held their lit wandtips over the skin, gaping at its huge size and poisonous green colour.

But they'd barely walked past the snakeskin when they heard a loud explosion, and the entire tunnel vibrated, sending small-sized rocks raining down on them. They shielded their head against the falling stones, as Nyx mewed aloud in fright.

"What was that?" exclaimed Ron, his face turning pale.

"Harry and Acquila are in danger! The explosion—" began Neville.

"It sounded like—like—remember the Troll incident? When Acquila's magic burst out of her?" said Hermione, her face fearful.

And suddenly, there was a blood-curdling scream – in a very familiar voice.

"That was Harry!" said Ron, looking at her with a terrified expression.

"Come on—" exclaimed Hermione.

"We've to help them!" yelled Neville, and they ran forward, wands raised. They could still hear Harry screaming his lungs out.

A few steps later, Ron stopped suddenly, realising Lockhart wasn't with them. Hermione and Neville stopped, too. And when they turned around, they saw Lockhart standing with his wand pointed at them.

"Professor, come on!" said Hermione. "Harry and Acquila are in trouble. Didn't you hear Harry scream?"

"None of us are going in there!" said Lockhart.

"What do you mean?" demanded Ron impatiently. "We came down to help them! We're running out of time!"

"You just want us to run away when our friends are in danger?" asked Neville, with Nyx spitting and mewing angrily.

"After all you wrote in those books?" said Hermione, looking hurt.

"Books can be misleading," Lockhart said delicately.

"You wrote them!" said Hermione, her voice unnaturally loud now.

"My dear girl," said Lockhart with a frown, his wand still pointing towards them. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Banshee—"

"MEAOOOWWWW!" said Nyx, and lunged at Lockhart, out of Neville's hands. But Lockhart sent a spell at the cat, and Nyx went flying into another direction, right into the wall adjacent to Hermione, before falling to the floor, motionless.

"NYX!" screamed Hermione, rushing to the cat, uncaring of Lockhart's wand pointing at her.

"What did you do to her, you credit-stealing fraud!" she screeched, taking the unconscious feline into her arms. If anything happened to Nyx, Acquila would hex them into smithereens.

"The cat's just unconscious," said Lockhart, "And I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but I didn't just steal credit. There was a lot of work involved. I had to track down these people. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there is one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms—"

Neville stiffened at the mention of Memory Charms, remembering Remus telling him of Lockhart's modus operandi.

Meanwhile, Harry's screams had suddenly gone silent, and they knew they were losing out on time. Harry could be dead for all they knew…and Acquila? If she had indeed caused the blast, she would have been magically exhausted…

"—I'm awfully sorry, children, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you, now," continued Lockhart. "Can't have you babbling my secrets all over the place, I'd never sell another book—Obliviate!" he exclaimed suddenly, as he saw Neville moving his wand.

"PROTEGO!" shouted Neville with all his might, waving his wand just as Remus had taught him, and a translucent shield appeared in front of the three children and Lockhart – a shield so strong that the Memory Charm bounced right off it, and hit a completely shocked Lockhart bang on his head, and he fell backwards into the wall with a loud thud.

The tunnel, already shaken due to the explosion, shook again with the force of Lockhart having banged into the wall. And the tunnel roof above the children's heads trembled loudly, before coming crashing onto the floor, as Hermione pushed Neville and Ron towards Lockhart, barely escaping a huge, falling piece of stone,

As the dust settled down, the three Gryffindors looked up, only to see that the way through the tunnel to where Harry and Acquila were, was now blocked by the huge pile of rubble.

"Now, what do we do?" exclaimed Ron, running towards the rubble and trying to move the rocks.

"That'll take hours, Ron!" said Hermione. "And we'd better not try to clear it by magic…we might make the ceiling collapse on us."

Suddenly, Lockhart stirred and clapped his hand to his head. All three of them pointed their wands at him.

"Who are you? Where am I?" he said, looking at them, dazed.

"I think his—his memory got wiped off with his own memory charm," said Neville slowly, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he was reminded of his parents, who remembered nothing of their lives, too.

But Ron was grinning, not noticing Neville's pale face.

"You saved us, Neville! You saved us!" exclaimed Ron, thumping Neville's back.

"That was a really good Shield Charm, Neville," said Hermione slowly. "And Shield Charms are advanced spells. How did you know how to cast the spell?" she asked him, looking at Lockhart, unable to believe that the wizard she's idolised had turned out to be such a fraud…a man vile enough to try to Obliviate three of his students.

"Well—I... I kind of knew he was going to hit us with his Memory Charm. Remus had told me Lockhart was a fraud," said Neville, staring at Lockhart disbelievingly.

"Who's Lockhart?" Lockhart inquired politely, but they ignored him.

"Remus taught me the Charm when I was at Black Manor," Neville continued, still staring at Lockhart. "I've just been practising it since…"

"You were amazing, Neville! You saved our memories!" said Hermione, putting her arms around the plump boy. Neville blushed at the compliment, as Ron patted his back again, impressed.

"How do we get through, now?" Ron asked, looking at the rocks blocking their way, while casting a disgusted look at Lockhart who was now examining a rat skeleton.

"Err—Neville, I think you should go back up and call Professor McGonagall. And take Nyx to Madam Pomfrey or Professor Kettleburn," said Hermione, carefully handing over the unconscious cat to Neville. "Ron you take care of... err... Professor Lockhart. And I'll try shifting these rocks..."

Ron and Neville nodded. Neville ran back towards the staircase.

Lockhart tried to run off behind him, but Ron caught him, and forced him to sit in a corner. While Hermione started shifting rocks, with Ron helping in, simultaneously keeping an eye on Lockhart, who was now talking to himself.


"Acquila!" Harry gasped, standing up shakily to his feet, and wiping off the blood that trickled into his eyes from his bleeding scar. He walked to her, before falling to his knees by her side.

"Acquila! Wake up!" he shook her. But she didn't respond, lying unmoving. He knew she was alive, or Voldemort wouldn't have possessed her. But he needed to ensure that she was indeed alive…needed to assure himself that he hadn't lost her. And he pressed his ear to the soft swell of her chest, straining to hear a heartbeat. And he did hear the faint thudding of her heart – something that sent relief flooding through him. She was unconscious like she'd been after the Troll incident; due to magical exhaustion. And he knew that she would take quite some hours to come back to consciousness. But she was alive. And that's what mattered.

And as he stood up, he felt dizzy, and completely drained; as if the process of pushing Voldemort out of himself had robbed him of all his strength—wait—wait! Pushing Voldemort out of himself? But he'd pushed him out of Acquila, hadn't he? Merlin! It made no sense at all! But at least Voldemort's voice wasn't invading his mind now. But Acquila's thoughts had disappeared, too. And that made him feel strangely empty…incomplete.

"Ginny!" he gasped suddenly, remembering that Ginny was still buried beneath the rubble. And leaving Acquila's side, he rushed towards the unconscious redhead.

He raised his wand to levitate the stones lying on her body; but on second thoughts, he decided to physically lift them away. He was feeling weak. Weaker than he'd ever felt. And he didn't want to lift a stone up in the air with 'Wingardium Leviosa', only to have it falling down onto Ginny due to his lack of strength in keeping up the spell.

He stuck his wand in the pocket of his nightshirt –somehow managing to fit it in with the Invisibility Cloak which was already uncomfortably squashed in there –before throwing the stony rubble off Ginny's body as fast as he could in his weakened state.

"Ginny! Ginny!" he exclaimed urgently, after he'd finally freed her body of the rubble.

He felt bile rising in his throat as he saw took in her entire form: her arm lying at an unnatural angle – broken, her hair matted with blood, with blood still oozing out from a wound on her head. Her entire body was covered in dust and dirt. But he saw the almost-unnoticeable rise and fall of her chest. So she was alive.

Acquila could wait. He needed to get Ginny out first – to get her injuries treated. She already seemed to have lost too much blood.

Damn! Why hadn't he brought the Mirror along? He could've called up Sirius for help. But now, nobody even knew that he was in the Chamber, metres below the school. And he would have to lug the two unconscious girls all the way up to the bathroom—unless—unless he called for help!

"Thunder!" he called out (rather stupidly, he admitted) hoping his beloved Horse would come to his aid. Hadn't Sirius told him that Thunder would come whenever he needed help? But, Merlin! Black Manor was a long way away! It would take hours for Thunder to fly to Scotland! And it wasn't as if Thunder could descend the moving staircase…or even fit in through the pipe below the sink.

He shook his head at his foolishness. All the action and duelling seemed to have addled his brains.

He put an arm under Ginny's back, and the other one under her legs, trying to lift her up. Thank Merlin Ginny wasn't too heavy! He'd taken just a couple of stumbling steps forward when he felt a tug at his pocket!

He spun around quickly, only to sway unsteadily on his feet, with Ginny's weight impeding his quick motion – and he barely stopped himself from dropping the girl onto the wet floor.

And what –or rather who – he saw, did have him almost letting go of the lower half of Ginny's body.

"Who are you?" he demanded, looking at the boy, who stood twirling a wand in his hands – Harry's wand! The thing he'd pulled out of his pocket!

The boy seemed about sixteen, with hair as black as Harry's own hair. He was quite taller than Harry. But what made a shiver run through Harry's spine was the fact that the boy was strangely blurred around the edges, and that he was sure he'd never seen the boy at Hogwarts.

"Who are you?" repeated Harry, instinctively inching away from the boy, with Ginny still in his arms. Who—no—What was the boy? A ghost? But he didn't look like Nearly Headless Nick or the Bloody Baron did! He was colourful for one, unlike other ghosts. And he was blurred around the edges, which, too, wasn't a characteristic of ghosts.

"Why don't you put Ginny Weasley down, Harry Potter?" said the boy, still twirling Harry's wand.

"I've to take her to the Hospital Wing," said Harry, his mind wildly whirring with plans to escape. The boy had his wand. And something about the boy seemed a little off, for Harry's scar began to prickle slightly again, or perhaps that was just his imagination. "She's unconscious…she needs to wake up and—"

"She won't wake up," said the boy softly. "Put her down," he repeated.

"What do you mean she won't wake up?" said Harry, before proceeding to place Ginny gently on the floor, not taking his eyes off the boy for a single moment. Ginny would be a lot safer on the ground…and it at least gave Harry free use of both his hands –perhaps he could try attacking the boy wandlessly. After all, he had used wandless magic a couple of times.

"She'd not dead, is she?" he asked the boy, though he inwardly knew she wasn't dead. He'd heard her heartbeats after all, and felt a pulse.

"She's still alive," said the boy, "But only just."

"Who are you?" Harry asked, slowly moving a few steps ahead. It took him closer to the boy, but it at least put himself between Ginny and the boy. He couldn't let anything happen to Ginny. He had to save her!

"And what are you doing here? How did you even get here?" Harry added, buying himself time to think of a way to deal with the boy.

"Ah! Interesting questions," said the boy, pocketing Harry's wand. And Harry's hopes rose a little. The boy had pocketed the wand, which meant that he either wasn't intending on using it, or that he couldn't use it due to his questionable living existence…or maybe he was like ghosts who couldn't perform magic.

"You see, Harry Potter," the boy continued, "your Godfather may be the great Lord Black, and an even greater former Auror, but even he couldn't get to the real mystery behind the opening of the Chamber of Secrets."

"Wait…You—you opened the Chamber?" asked Harry, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

"Ginny Weasley did," said the boy pleasantly.

"Don't lie!" snapped Harry. "Ginny would never—"

"But she did! She did!" exclaimed the boy, his eyes never leaving Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them. "And since you aren't going to live much longer, Harry Potter, I might as well tell you of it all! Consider it the fulfilling of your last wish…having your questions answered…"

Harry's eyes widened. So this boy was planning to kill him! Merlin! He needed a wand! Something to fight the boy—oh yes! Ginny's wand! But it had probably been buried under the rubble…but—Yeah! Acquila's wand! He cast a quick glance around the Chamber, and spotted her wand lying a little behind the boy, half-hidden beneath dust and stone.

"Don't waste the last few minutes of your existence in looking around for a non-existent way of escape, Harry Potter," said the boy. "Nothing can save you now. But getting back to the matter at hand, didn't you notice something different in Ginny Weasley recently? Do you see that little black diary there?" He pointed to a diary lying at the foot of Salazar Slytherin's statue. The statue, surprisingly, seemed to have been unaffected by the explosion.

"It's my diary," the boy continued. "You see, I'm a memory! A memory stored in that diary! Little Ginny's been writing in it for months – of course, there was a little gap in between, when she let go of her dear Tom, but she did come back to me soon enough—"

Harry's breath hitched in his throat! Tom! The boy had said 'Tom'! So was this Tom Riddle? Voldemort? A younger version of Voldemort? But how was that even possible? Voldemort had fled! And Harry was sure he wouldn't dare come back again anytime soon! So how the hell was this Tom Riddle?

"—Ginny's been telling me of all her pitiful worries and woes: how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes, how embarrassed she felt when you saw the second-hand books she bought in Diagon Alley—" Riddle's eyes glinted "—how she didn't think the famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her, how she disliked Acquila Black…Acquila Black with the pretty looks and expensive robes and the Black wealth, and above all, Harry Potter's friendship!"

"It's very boring having to listen to the troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," the boy went on, "But I was very patient. I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simple loved me! No one's ever understood me like you, Tom…I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in…It's like having a friend to carry around in my pocket…"

The boy laughed a high, cold laugh which angered and scared Harry in equal measures.

"If I say it myself, I've always been able to charm the people I needed," the boy continued, fortifying Harry's suspicion that the boy was indeed Tom Riddle, for Dumbledore had said that Voldemort had always been someone who charmed people to achieve his ends. "So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be the exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Ginny a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, his mouth suddenly dry.

"That is how Ginny opened the Chamber of Secrets! Because I made her open it…possessed her…took over her weak little body," said Riddle triumphantly. "She daubed the threatening message on the wall on Halloween. And set the Serpent of Slytherin on Moaning Myrtle—"

"Because you knew Sirius would question Myrtle about the attacks in 1943!" said Harry furiously.

"You're right," said the boy, "Ginny had told me of how much your godfather loves you…of how he sometimes thinks of you as a replacement of your father, his best friend. Harry Potter is so brave, Tom! He stood up against Mum for Sirius Black at his birthday party! And Sirius loves Harry! He takes him for Quidditch matches, he even gifted him a new broom! So I knew of how he's like a father to you. And I knew that once the Chamber opened, Sirius Black would certainly begin investigating into it. And what better way to thwart his enquiries than petrify the one girl who would have given him a first-hand report of the Basilisk that killed her—"

"And Colin?" demanded Harry. "Why did you set the Basilisk on him?"

"The Basilisk wasn't meant to petrify him, Harry," replied the boy. "It was meant to kill you! You see, Ginny overheard Acquila Black and you talking of sneaking out of Gryffindor Tower that night. And it was very easy to make Ginny open the Chamber and set the Basilisk after you. But unluckily, the Mudblood got petrified instead. I was hoping to launch another attack on you, but unfortunately, Ginny got rid of me," said the boy, before a smile took over his face again.

"But Ginny did get the diary back," continued the boy. "It took time for her to trust me again, but as I told you, I can be very charming when I want to be. Ginny told me of how she heard that Sirius Black was going to get the Aurors to Hogwarts, and she panicked and got rid of me. But she did get me back again. And imagine my surprise, and my fury," said Riddle, his eyes now blazing, "when she told me that your stupid godfather killed the Basilisk! The Serpent of my forefather! Salazar Slytherin's Basilisk—"

"Sirius isn't stupid!" said Harry angrily. "He's brave! And he won! He killed the Basilisk—"

"I'm not here to talk of your godfather, Harry," the boy interrupted him. "And as for Sirius Black winning, we'll come to that a little later. But what I want to know is how is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent managed to defeat the greatest wizards of all time. How did you escape with merely a scar? How did you reduce Lord Voldemort to such a pathetic state that he's being forced to possess a little girl in order to—"

"Why do you care?" asked Harry.

"Because," said the boy softly, "I am Tom Riddle. And Voldemort is my past, present and future."

And pulling out Harry's wand from his pocket, he began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

He waved the wand again, and the letters rearranged themselves.

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

Harry gaped at the letters, before collecting himself. So this was Voldemort! And he could use the wand…could do magic! That put Harry even further on the back-foot!

"You see?" said the Tom. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of the great Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle who abandoned me before I was even born, only because he discovered his wife was a witch—"

"You are crazy!" Harry cut him off, remembering Sirius' outrage on knowing of Voldemort's blood status. He needed to distract Riddle. Distract him with his words. "All your anti-Muggle rubbish in your future, was only because your father abandoned you! Because your father was a Muggle! You're a half-blood yourself! And you talked of blood supremacy? You created the war for the cause of purebloods when you're half a Muggle—"

"Don't you dare talk of me—" Riddle stopped abruptly as Harry suddenly lunged at the floor and grabbed Acquila's wand, pointing it at Riddle, as he quickly stood up to his feet. His tiredness seemed to have dissipated, as adrenaline rushed through his veins for the second time that night.

"Ha ha ha!" Riddle laughed his cold laugh again. "You think you can defeat me, Harry Potter?" asked Riddle.

"I can!" said Harry, a lot more confidently than he felt. "I sent your future self packing, didn't I? You—your future self—Voldemort!" stuttered Harry, his mind too much filled with confusion, deciding to stick to calling the wraith 'Voldemort' and this memory-boy 'Tom Riddle'. As if dealing with one Voldemort wasn't enough, he had a second one to deal with now. "Voldemort's never going to dare come back here—"

"Oh he will come back," said Riddle. "After all, he came here tonight, didn't he?"

"He came only because Dumbledore isn't in the Castle!" said Harry indignantly, not knowing how he even knew that snippet of information. "He's scared of Dumbledore—"

"Dumbledore doesn't scare me!" snarled Riddle. "I opened the Chamber in 1943 and put all the blame on Hagrid! And what could Dumbledore do? Nothing!"

"But he knew you were behind it! And Hagrid's still at Hogwarts, isn't he?" retorted Harry. "He's gamekeeper here! And what are you? What's your future self? A pathetic wraith who possesses an innocent eleven-year-old girl! A coward who's scared to enter the Castle when Dumbledore's in it—"

"Shut up!" thundered Riddle. "He possessed Quirrell under Dumbledore's crooked nose last year and Dumbledore didn't even have an inkling of it! My future self told me all about it, before you entered the Chamber and cut short our conversation! I'm not scared of Dumbledore, because Lord Voldemort is the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"You're not! And you'll never be!" said Harry, his voice full of hatred.

"Not what?" snapped Riddle.

"The greatest sorcerer in the world! Dumbledore may not have noticed Voldemort possessing Quirrell, but he did thwart his attempts in getting the Stone, didn't he? And Voldemort didn't dare enter the school after that! He hid far away, in the forests of Albania! Because he feared Dumbledore! Even when he was strong, Voldemort didn't dare take over Hogwarts! Dumbledore's a far greater wizard than you'll ever be! Than Voldemort ever was!" said Harry, furiously.

And suddenly, music seemed to echo through the Chamber. Riddle looked all around for the source of the sound. And Harry took the moment to think of a spell to finish off Riddle, but the music was distracting him, lifting the hair on his scalp, making his heart seem as though it was swelling to twice its usual size. The music was growing louder; it was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly. And then, as the music reached such a high pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted from the top of the nearest pillar, and a crimson bird the size of a swan appeared – Fawkes! The Phoenix flew straight at Harry and dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, before landing heavily on Harry's shoulder.

"That's a phoenix…" said Riddle, shrewdly staring back at it.

"Fawkes?" breathed Harry, and the bird's golden claws squeezed his shoulder. Fawkes was Dumbledore's! And that meant Dumbledore knew Harry was in the Chamber! Perhaps, he was coming to help Harry!

"And that—" said Riddle, eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, "that's the Sorting Hat."

So it was. Patched, frayed and dirty, the Hat lay motionless at Harry's feet.

And Riddle began to laugh again – a laugh so hard that the dark, exploded Chamber rang with it, as if ten Riddles were laughing at once.

"This is what Dumbledore sends his defender? A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave now, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe? I wonder what your godfather will say when he knows what Dumbledore sent his dying godson!"

Harry didn't answer, merely gripping his wand tighter. If Dumbledore had sent Fawkes knowing Harry needed help, he would surely have informed Sirius and Remus. And the two of them were probably on the way here. And they would get Ginny and Acquila to the Hospital Wing! All Harry had to do was to hold on till they came.

"To business, Harry," said Riddle, still smiling broadly, "If you hadn't interrupted my tête-à-tête with my future self, I would have gotten all my answers from him. But since you saw fit to poke your nose into this and advance your death, you'd better tell me everything. Twice –apart from tonight –in your past, in my future, we have met. And I have failed to kill you each time. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk, the longer you survive."

Harry made to send another angry retort at Riddle, but he suddenly noticed that Riddle's outline was becoming clearer, more solid. The longer he stood there, the longer Ginny was in danger –not only from the blood loss from her injuries, but from certain death by the sucking out of her life-force or whatever it was that Riddle was pulling out of her. And he knew that he didn't have time to wait for Sirius, Remus and Dumbledore. He would have to fight Riddle himself. Perhaps, a well-aimed Stupefy, or a Petrificus Totallus…

"You couldn't kill me because my Mum died to save me," said Harry. My common Muggle-born mother," he added with suppressed rage. "She stopped you killing me. And you see where all your power got you? You're a wreck! Barely alive! You're ugly and foul! And a coward! Possessing a young kid instead of facing me! Instead of facing Dumbledore!"

Riddle's face contorted, before he smiled an awful smile.

"So, your mother died to save you. That's a powerful counter-charm. I can see now – there is nothing special about you, after all. Apart from the strange little connection you share with powerful Miss Black there," Riddle said, gesturing towards Acquila's unconscious form, "you're nothing special at all. I wondered, you see. Because there are strange likenesses between us, Harry Potter. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Salazar Slytherin himself. We even look something alike…But after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me the first two times… As for what happened tonight, it seems like it was Acquila Black who defeated my future self, not you…That's all I wanted to know."

Harry stood tense, his wand raised against Riddle.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, but Riddle easily dodged the spell.

"Now, now, Harry," said Riddle, "Casting a spell at an unprepared opponent? Surely your godfather had taught you better manners than—"

"Don't you talk of manners!" spat Harry. "Didn't you kill my unarmed Father? Didn't you kill my Mother when she didn't even have a wand on her? You—"

"Such great love for your parents, Harry Potter," interjected Riddle. "But don't you worry. You'll be joining your dear parents soon enough. Now, I am going to teach you a lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, heir of Salazar Slytherin, against the famous Harry Potter, the duelling skills his godfather's taught him and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him!"

"Sirius Black did destroy Salazar Slytherin's Basilisk," said Riddle, as he looked up into the stone face of Salazar Slytherin, "But if he thought that I would do nothing about it, he was wrong. So, so wrong! Salazar's Basilisk is dead. But the Basilisk his heir created will live on for eternity! Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!" Riddle spoke the last part in Parseltongue. And Harry knew what was coming even before it did.

He rushed towards Ginny, and pulled her towards the nearest wall, before pulling out his Invisibility Cloak, and covering her with it. She was bleeding. And he remembered that the earlier Basilisk had lunged at a bleeding Riley, sniffing his blood. But since this Basilisk wasn't blind, Harry hoped that he wouldn't rely too much on his sense of smell. And if Ginny was invisible, the Basilisk would hopefully spare her.

He turned behind to look at the statue in spite of himself, watching horror-struck, as Salazar's mouth opened wider and wider; and something dark slithered out of its depths.

"Acquila!" he gasped, before he rushed towards the unconscious girl and dragged her towards a wall, too, hoping the Basilisk wouldn't spot her.

He knew what he had to do – attract the Basilisk towards himself so that it wouldn't notice the two girls. And attack it! With the Blindfolding Charm first, and then, with—Merlin! He didn't know Fiendfyre! And he probably wouldn't have used it even if he did! But he knew he had to send spells only into the Basilisk's mouth. After all, Kingsley had blown away a part of the Basilisk's face by sending an exploding spell into its mouth!

He raised his wand, and backed away until he hit the Chamber wall that was farthest from Acquila, looking only at the reflection of the Basilisk on the watery floor. But suddenly, he felt Fawkes' wings brush his cheek as the bird took flight.

Something huge hit the stone floor –but from whatever little he could see reflected on the watery floor, the Basilisk seemed smaller than the earlier one. That meant Harry had a better chance of escaping its tail, in case it attacked him. But it also meant that the Basilisk's mouth was smaller – so Harry's spell casting would need even greater accuracy.

"Kill him!" said Tom Riddle's hissing voice, and Harry could sense the Basilisk slithering towards him. And he shut his eyes, not wanting to get petrified.

"Stop!" Harry hissed in Parseltongue, and to his surprise, he heard the nearing Basilisk come to a stop.

"You fool! I created you! Don't you listen to the boy! Kill him!" snarled Riddle. And after the split second that the Basilisk took to make up its mind, Harry suddenly heard the Basilisk hissing madly, as if it was in pain.

And when Harry opened his eyes slightly to cock a look at whatever had made the Basilisk hiss out in pain, he saw Fawkes flying around the Basilisk's head; and the Basilisk attacking furiously with its fangs. There was a sudden shower of blood; and the Basilisk thrashed around in pain, narrowly missing Harry's head. And when Harry looked right into its eyes, he saw that Fawkes had blinded the Basilisk! Its yellow eyes had been punctured by the Phoenix, and it was spitting in agony.

"NO!" Riddle screamed, "Leave the bird! Kill the boy! Sniff him out!"

"Expulso!" shrieked Harry, but his exploding spell missed the serpent's open mouth and hit the wall behind it instead, sending a shower of stones onto the floor. And honestly, Harry didn't even know whether he'd cast the spell properly since it was a rather advanced spell, and he only knew the incantation. His wand movement had just been a spur-of-the-moment motion.

"Expulso!" he shouted again, only to miss the madly swaying Basilisk.

"Stop! Stop where you are! Attack Riddle!" said Harry in Parseltongue, but this time, the Basilisk seemed to have made up its mind, and it lunged at Harry, who narrowly jumped out of the way.

But he'd lost Acquila's wand while doing so. And he was unarmed now.

The blinded serpent spun around to face Harry, slithering towards him, hissing and spitting in pain, its head swaying, as Fawkes continued to attack the Basilisk's scaly nose.

"Help me," muttered Harry. "Please help me!" he thought, as he lunged out of the Basilisk's path again, only to stumble over an Invisible Ginny.

He rushed into the opposite direction instead, only to step over the Sorting Hat. He pulled the Hat over his head, and threw himself on the floor as the serpent's tail swung over him again.

'Help me!' he thought again, and the Hat contracted, as if an invisible hand was squeezing it tight. He felt something hard and heavy thud onto his head, almost knocking him out. And when he pulled it out, he saw that it was a sword – a gleaming silver sword, its handle gleaming with rubies the size of eggs.

And as Harry gripped the sword with both his hands, he knew what he had to do – ram the sword right through the roof of the mouth of the Basilisk!


"One more spell, and I'd have beaten you!" said Irene.

"But you didn't," said Sirius smugly. "I beat you! And you couldn't cast another spell, Summerby…my Paralysis Curse hit your wand arm!"

"He's right, Irene," put in Kingsley, as they walked towards a dark, empty alleyway to apparate home.

"Oh come on, Kingsley—" Irene stopped abruptly as a shimmering cat Patronus appeared out of thin air.

"Come to the Chamber right away. Children in danger," said the Patronus in a worried female voice.

Sirius swore loudly, before he muttered, "I've got to go!" and disapparated with a crack, uncaring of the Muggle man who dropped his briefcase, startled at seeing Sirius disappear into thin air.

"What was—was that McGonagall?" asked Irene, who didn't know of the Order's use of the Patronus Charm for communication.

"I think so... I'm going after him," said Kingsley.

"I'm coming too," said Irene, "Let's go!"

And minutes later, they appeared before the boundaries of Hogwarts, having Obliviated the shocked Muggle.

As the wards of the School admitted them, they followed a running Sirius towards the Castle.

Sirius sprinted over the Castle grounds, cursing himself for having stayed back late at the Ministry for a friendly duel with Irene. If he'd gone home, he'd have had access to a fireplace, to floo directly into the Castle.

As his impatience wore thin, he transformed himself into Padfoot, uncaring that someone would spot him, though only a handful people knew of his Animagus form.

And he sped through the entrance hall, the Great Hall, and through one of his trusted shortcuts. He turned back into his human form when he reached the bathroom.

"Sirius! They've gone in—" began Hermione, who stood in a corner with Neville and Ron; and Professor Flitwick, who was saying something to a dreamy-looking Lockhart.

Sirius rushed onto the moving staircase, before transforming again, and sprinting down the moving stairs on all fours. He ran past the snakeskin, past the rubble of a suspected roof-fall, and past a running McGonagall.

"Sirius!" exclaimed McGonagall, as she spotted his canine form run past her. But Sirius ignored her.

He even ignored a stunned Snape who was running a few paces ahead of McGonagall – looking rather comical in his nightrobes as he ran.

And as he entered the main Chamber, he saw Harry plunge what looked like a Basilisk fang into a diary.

"Harry!" he shouted, transforming into his human form in a split second, rushing towards Harry, who was gaping at a twisting, fast-disappearing teenage boy at whom Sirius pointed his wand, as ink flooded from the book in torrents.

"Sirius!" said Harry in relief as he collapsed into his arms, as the other boy disappeared completely.

"What was—Fuck! Another Basilisk!" Sirius swore as he saw the dead serpent. "Shit! You're bleeding!" he gasped as he saw the dried blood on Harry's scar.

"Potter!" exclaimed Snape, closely followed by McGonagall, whose mouth fell open at the sight of the Basilisk.

"Ginny's injured," said Harry weakly, pointing to a spot near the wall.

"Ginny Weasley's here, too?" gasped McGonagall. And she walked towards where Harry was pointing, and with a little groping of her hand in thin air, she pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, gasping in shock as she saw the extent of Ginny's injuries.

Snape bent down towards Ginny, and with a gentleness that McGonagall never thought Snape capable of possessing towards a Gryffindor student, he lifted the girl in his arms and quickly strode out of the Chamber.

But Sirius saw none of that.

"Where's Acquila?" he asked Harry urgently, a ball of fear forming in the pit of his stomach.

"She's—" began Harry, before Sirius spotted Acquila and rushed over to her.

"Acquila!" said Sirius. His voice had an edge of fear and desperation that Harry had never heard. "Wake up, sweetheart," said the older man, sinking down to his knees on the ground, as he frantically felt for a pulse.

Sirius conjured a stretcher and levitated Acquila onto it, his eyes widening as he waved his wand over her.

"What happened to her?" he demanded, his voice seeming more of a growl, as his eyes bore into Harry's.

"Sirius!" said McGonagall. "You can question Potter later. He needs to see Poppy now! So does Acquila—"

"Merlin's beard! Another Basilisk!" exclaimed Kingsley who came running in with Irene.

"Harry! You're bleeding—Acquila—what's wrong with her?" exclaimed Irene as she took in the sight before her.

As Sirius made to levitate the stretched to the Hospital Wing, Fawkes, who was perched on a half-destroyed pillar flew over to them, and gently clutched Acquila's wrist with his claws; and before any of them could react, Fawkes disappeared with Acquila, flashing her to the Hospital Wing.

The Phoenix came back a moment later, extending its tail to Harry and Sirius, its eyes gazing into Harry's startled ones.

"Hold on to it," muttered Sirius, and as the two black-haired wizards held on to the bird's tail. Sirius had barely cast a meaningful look at McGonagall before the Phoenix took off in the air with them, soaring above the Transfiguration Professor's head, and out of the Chamber.

It was McGonagall who took charge of the situation after that.

"Shacklebolt, Summerby!" said McGonagall sternly. "This stays out of the official records! Not a word to anyone!"

"Yes, Prof—I mean, Minerva," mumbled Kingsley, feeling very much as he was back to his school days.

"What's this?" muttered Irene, as he bent down to pick up the black diary which had a gaping hole right in the centre of it.

"Holy shit!" gasped Kingsley, ignoring McGonagall's stern reprimand telling him to mind his language, as he picked up the sword with the gleaming handle that lay on the floor.

"The Sword of Gryffindor!" exclaimed the deep-voiced Auror, moving his fingers reverentially over the 'Godric Gryffindor' engraved on the hilt of the sword.

McGonagall's eyes widened behind her spectacles as Kingsley handed over the sword to her.

"Yes. This is the sword of Gryffindor—and the Sorting Hat!" she exclaimed as she spotted the frayed Hat. "How in Merlin's name did that get here?"

"I can't believe these kids killed the Basilisk!" said Irene, as she handed over the diary to Kingsley and watched the Basilisk that lay dead and bleeding. And Kingsley knew she was comparing it to their harrowing experience with the earlier Basilisk.

"I don't think it was the kids that did it…I think it was Harry alone," said Kingsley thoughtfully, and McGonagall nodded, before they set about clearing the destroyed Chamber, deciding to leave the Basilisk's dead body for Dumbledore to look into.


"Lie down, Potter!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey exasperatedly as Harry made to sit up to wrench open the curtains around his Hospital bed.

"I want to see Acquila! And Ginny! Please!" said Harry. "And I'm all right now! Look, my arm's all healed…and my scar's stopped bleeding—"

"No, Potter," said the Nurse. "I want you to go to sleep, now! And how on earth do you manage to get into such dangerous situations? A slashing hex, a Basilisk bite…a bleeding scar! You're a magnet for danger! Sleep now! And you're going to need to rest for an entire day."

"What!" exclaimed Harry. "NO! I've to play the match tomorrow—in a few hours, rather! I can't miss it—"

"Nothing doing, Potter—"

"But—"

"Don't make me force-feed you Dreamless Sleep Potion!" said Madam Pomfrey threateningly, as Harry gave up, deciding to tell Sirius to convince the Nurse to let him play. Harry shut his eyes, wanting nothing better than to go to sleep. He was more tired than he'd ever been, with the adrenaline rush having worn off. But he couldn't sleep yet…not until he'd spoken to Sirius…

It had been around an hour since Harry and Sirius had come to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had been frantically healing Ginny's injuries when they had entered. And it had been Andromeda (Harry had no idea how she'd reached there so soon), who had treated Acquila, and pronounced that she was suffering from magical exhaustion – something that Harry had already deduced – and that she would take at least three days to gain consciousness.

It was when Andromeda had moved on to treating Harry that Mr and Mrs Weasley had come rushing in, their faces white as they saw their injured daughter. They had demanded an explanation, of course, but McGonagall had told them to wait for Dumbledore to arrive, only telling them that Harry had saved Ginny. Mrs Weasley had then gone into hysterics, as she almost crushed Harry with a tight, motherly hug, with many a tearful word of thanks. Andromeda had then intervened, loosening Mrs Weasley's hold on him, before she proceeded –a little awkwardly – to console the redheaded witch.

McGonagall and Snape seemed to want to question Harry, but Madam Pomfrey had sternly refused to let them question him until he had been healed and deemed fit enough – not that Harry even wanted to talk to Snape of all people. But he did want to tell Sirius of what had happened…get it off his chest. But Sirius' main concern had seemed to only be Acquila and his wellbeing; although Harry knew that his inquisitive godfather would get to asking him about it all soon. And Harry wanted to tell him…tell him everything…before the finer details slipped his mind…like the dream he'd had, which he was already beginning to forget.

Ron, Hermione, Neville had tried to question Harry about what had happened in the Chamber, but Madam Pomfrey had sent them all up to Gryffindor Tower. The Weasley twins and Percy, too, had been only allowed a glimpse of Ginny and been told that she would regain consciousness in a few hours, once the Potions took effect. Lockhart – who seemed to have somehow lost all his memory – had kept blabbering from a corner of the room, until Madam Pomfrey seemed to have fed him a Sleeping Draught.

And it had been rather silent in the Hospital Wing after that, with only the occasional sniffle from Molly, and the soft whispering between McGonagall and Snape, and Kingsley, Irene and Andromeda. With Madam Pomfrey having shut the curtains around his bed, Harry hadn't even been able to see what had been going on. And what worried him was that he hadn't heard Sirius' voice at all, except for when his godfather had desperately asked Andromeda about what was wrong with Acquila, and overlooked her treating Harry's injuries. A look of horror had passed Sirius' features as Andromeda had detected that the Basilisk had bitten Harry. And despite Harry and Andromeda assuring him that he was all right, Sirius had sat by Harry's bedside with expressions that Harry had recognised – guilt, helplessness, fear, worry.

But Harry hadn't been able to tell Sirius that he wasn't to blame, because the Weasleys had entered the Hospital Wing. And Sirius had said nothing after that. And if it wasn't for Andromeda intermittently assuring Sirius that both Acquila and Harry were fine, Harry wouldn't even have known that his usually-talkative godfather was still in the room.

"—run out of soothing salves and pain-killing Potions—" Madam Pomfrey's voice suddenly caught Harry's attention, and he realised that he had dozed off. He shook off his drowsiness to listen to what they were speaking.

"I will get them from my private stores," came Snape's voice.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," came Madam Pomfrey's voice, followed by the sound of Snape's footsteps.

"'Arry!" came a familiar voice, accompanied the sound of giant footsteps.

"Shhhh!" said Madam Pomfrey. "Potter's sleeping!"

"You can see him later, Hagrid," came McGonagall's voice.

"Sirius! Yeh are 'ere too! But what's wrong with 'Arry? And Acquila—" Hagrid persisted.

"Come on, Hagrid," said Kingsley.

"Yes! No visitors apart from immediate family!" said Madam Pomfrey in a loud whisper. And Harry heard the sound of multiple pairs of feet walking out of the room, their sounds sounding soft over those of Hagrid's heavy feet.

"Molly, Arthur, why don't both of you get some sleep, too," said Madam Pomfrey. "Ginny won't wake up until morning—"

"No," said Mrs Weasley softly. "I'll wait here—"

But Harry heard McGonagall interrupting Mrs Weasley, and convincing the couple to accompany her to her office for a cup of tea and wait for Dumbledore, who would be coming to Hogwarts soon. And they, too, seemed to have left the Hospital Wing, going by the sound of footsteps. Madam Pomfrey followed them shortly to order a new batch of Potions to inject into Acquila's bloodstream to help her body sustain itself during her unconsciousness. And Harry quietly sat up in his bed, knowing Madam Pomfrey wasn't there to stop him. He made to get off his bed, when Andromeda's voice stopped him.

"She'll be fine in a couple of days, Siri…"

But Harry didn't hear Sirius' response, and that worried him. And it seemed to worry Andromeda, too, for she spoke up softly.

"You're worrying me, Sirius…say something…do I call Remus?"

"No…don't call him…" came Sirius' reply, his voice hoarse. "He needs to rest…he's—err—he's ill…Nymphie's with him…"

"Why don't you sleep for awhile? Acquila's not going to wake up anytime soon…and Harry's sleeping, too—"

"No!" came Sirius' firm reply.

"Staying awake isn't going to—"

"No, Andy! I don't want to sleep! Hell, I'm not going to get any sleep for days to come!" said Sirius, a strange edge to his voice which Harry had never heard.

"What's the matter, Siri?" asked Andromeda, and Harry heard the sound of the scraping of a chair on the stone floor.

"I—what do I even say, Andy? I failed them! I was supposed to have protected them! And look at what happened! Acquila's injured! Magical exhaustion! And this is the second time she's been magically exhausted! Second time in two years! She'd have died for all we know! She's my daughter, Andy! The one thing that Athena's left behind! And I'd have lost her forever! And Harry? Basilisk venom! Basilisk venom! He'd have died! I'd have lost him, too! And—and that diary! I saw it with my own very eyes! He stabbed the diary with that Basilisk fang and that—that boy there…he twisted and writhed and disappeared! That was Dark Magic, Andy! Dark Magic! The entire Chamber reeked of Dark Magic! And what the fuck was I doing when my kids were battling a Basilisk? I was duelling Irene for fun! A friendly duel! When I should've been out here with the kids! I'd sworn to protect them! What happened last year with Quirrell and Voldemort—I'd promised myself that I'd never let anything like that happen again! But I'm such a bad father! Damn it, Andy! This is my fault—"

"It isn't your fault, Sirius!" exclaimed Harry, finally pulling the curtains apart and getting off his bed. But his feet hadn't even touched the stony floor, when Sirius and Andromeda rushed towards him.

"You need to rest, kiddo—" began Sirius, gently urging Harry back onto the bed, but Harry shook his head.

"No! I want to talk to you, Sirius…and whatever happened—it isn't your fault at all! It's my fault! I got that dream! I went into the Chamber…and Voldemort came to kill me—"

"V—Voldemort!" gasped Andromeda. But Sirius said nothing, though his face did turn a shade paler.

"—Ginny—and—and Acquila…it's all because of me—" Harry continued.

"No, Harry," Andromeda cut him off. "You need to stop blaming yourself! And you too, Siri!"

But Sirius didn't seem to have heard a word of what his cousin said. He merely clasped Harry's hand, and turned to Andromeda.

"I need to talk to him…will you stay here with Acquila until we're back?"

"Of course, Siri," replied Andromeda.

"Come on," Sirius said to Harry; and he led the boy up a couple of flights of stairs into a room that Harry had never seen.

"It's the guest room…McGonagall said I could use it until Acquila wakes up," said Sirius at Harry's questioning look, before gesturing towards a fluffy-looking bed.

Harry sat down on the bed, and Sirius pulled a chair towards him, sitting down facing Harry. He then waved his wand around in rather complicated-looking motions, and Harry felt a slight change in the magic in the air. And he realised that his Godfather had probably put up the strongest privacy charms he knew.

"Tell me," said Sirius, "from the very beginning."

Harry nodded, before launching into a narration of all that had happened.

"So the dream changed midway…and when you looked down into the water, you saw Ginny's reflection instead of your own?" said Sirius as Harry told him of the dream.

"Yes…and—and I think the dream was real…" mumbled Harry, "because when I went into the Chamber, Ginny was in there…with red eyes…and Voldemort had possessed her—"

"WHAT!" exclaimed Sirius. "Possessed her?"

"Yes," said Harry, "But not like he'd possessed Quirrell! He wasn't at the back of her head…he was in her…She was still in there…in her body…but Voldemort had taken over her…she was still in there…I could feel it—"

"What do you mean you could feel it?" asked Sirius.

"I—I could hear Voldemort's thoughts…feel his—his emotions in my mind…" said Harry, looking at Sirius to gauge his reaction to that. But his godfather said nothing, although Harry could have sworn he saw the little remaining colour slip off his Sirius' face, making him seem even paler than before.

"You heard his thoughts?" asked Sirius, his voice hollow.

"Yes," mumbled Harry, "He was shocked to see me there…he hadnt expected me to go to the Chamber…and I could hear his thoughts—like—like I can hear Acquila's! I heard her thoughts, too, Sirius…when she came in…I could sense her coming in—and—and I swear I tried to stop her!" he said earnestly. "I tried to tell her—I kept thinking in my mind…telling her not to come…hoping she'd hear me… But she didn't hear me…I didn't want her to get hurt…I swear I didn't…and I'm sorry that she's unconscious…I should've protected—"

"No," Sirius cut him off firmly. "You don't need to apologise for it, kiddo…protecting her isn't your responsibility…It's mine…I'm supposed to be keeping both of you safe—"

"But I should've told you! I even thought of using the Mirror to tell you about the dream…but I thought I was being foolish…I hadn't—"

Sirius took a deep breath. He stood up and sat next to Harry, putting an arm around him.

"Look, Harry. I don't want you blaming yourself for any of this… there was no way you'd have known that the dream you had was real…no way you'd have known that Voldemort was indeed there…But the next time anything like this happens, I don't care what time of the night it is, I don't care how silly the dream is, I need you to tell me…or Remus or Andy if you can't contact me."

"Yes," said Harry quietly, though he felt a little better. Sirius didn't blame him for what had happened to Acquila. And that was a real relief.

"Tell me what happened next."

"So I went in there and Ginny stood there with red eyes…and I knew it wasn't her…because my scar began to hurt…and then Voldemort spoke through her…said that he came here tonight because he knew Dumbledore wasn't in the Castle—"

"What?" said Sirius sharply. "He knew Dumbledore isn't in the Castle?"

"Yes…he knew. That's why he came here tonight…"

"But McGonagall told me that very few people knew that Dumbledore's at Beauxbatons…in France…only the Department of International Magical Co-operation and a few others in the Ministry…" muttered Sirius, more to himself than to Harry. "So he's got someone within the Ministry working for him…Damn! That's a whole lot of people…ministry employees…former Death Eaters…people like Malfoy and Nott…" he trailed off, deep in thought, though his grip on Harry's shoulder tightened, and Harry knew Sirius was really furious. But the older wizard took another deep breath, before looking at Harry again.

"What happened next?" he asked.

"Ginny—I mean, Voldemort—he sent a Killing Curse at me—"

"WHAT THE HELL!" thundered Sirius.

"Nothing happened to me!" said Harry hastily, seeing his godfather's eyes darkening with rage. "I dodged the Curse and sent spells of my own…not harmful ones…because Ginny would get hurt…but the normal ones…like Stupefy and Petrificus Totallus…"

Sirius smiled grimly, mentally in awe of Harry. If he was in Harry's place, he doubted he'd have the self-control to stick to only non-injurious spells against Voldemort.

"And then I reminded Ginny of Mrs. Weasley and Ron and the twins…I thought she'd hear me and throw Voldemort out of her…and I even saw her eyes turn brown for a moment…but they turned red again…" continued Harry, telling him everything that had happened after that, including Acquila's arrival and their subsequent duel with Voldemort.

"The Bone Breaking Curse?" said Sirius in disbelief. "She used the Bone Breaking Curse on Ginny? But—but that's Dark Magic! She—she couldn't have—she—where did she learn the Curse from?" he demanded.

"We read it," mumbled Harry. "In a book you brought from Grimmauld Place…but she didn't want to hurt Ginny, Sirius!" he added earnestly. "She didn't plan to use it! A Slashing Curse hit me…and she got furious that I was hurt—I could—I could hear her thinking…she was angry…really, really angry…and the Curse just—just—you're getting what I'm saying, right? She didn't mean to hurt Ginny—all she could think of was Voldemort…" he said, not meeting Sirius' eyes.

"Tell me the truth, Harry," said Sirius, his voice had a stern edge to it.

"She—she didn't—"

"The truth, Harry," said Sirius sharply.

"I swear she didn't want to hurt, Ginny…when she cast the Curse, she was thinking of how she didn't mean to hurt Ginny…but…" Harry paused.

"But what?" demanded Sirius.

"But she would've done anything to save me from Voldemort," said Harry, his voice little more than a whisper. "Anything…even if it meant hurting Ginny…or..."

"Or?"

"Or killing her," admitted Harry.

Harry heard Sirius' sharp intake of breath, before he said, "What happened next?"

Harry gaped at Sirius, wondering why he hadn't said anything further. But realising that Sirius wasn't going to speak on the topic, he continued with his retelling of the events.

"You saw James?" asked Sirius, his voice hoarse again.

"Yes…they were Voldemort's memories…Dad—he—he didn't have his wand…and he told Mum to take me and run…he told her he'd hold Voldemort off…" said Harry, a lump in his throat as he remembered the memory – his father with his messy hair, yelling at his Mum to save herself and Harry…James standing courageously against Voldemort…

"Did—did Jamie say—say anything else? Or—or were those his last words?" asked Sirius, his voice sounding choked now, as if the lump in his throat was a lot bigger than the one in Harry's. "No…don't answer that…I shouldn't even be asking you—I'm sorry…but it's just so—" sputtered Sirius brokenly.

"It's okay," mumbled Harry. "And—he—he was your best friend…you know him a lot better than I do…but—but I don't know what happened next…because my scar started hurting like crazy…I sunk to the floor…I couldn't even open my eyes…I felt like my head would burst…I couldn't even see what was happening with Acquila and Gin—Voldemort…and then suddenly, I heard Acquila's thoughts again. She was going to let her magic take over her…like during the Troll incident. She thought the Chamber would explode, the ceiling would collapse on Ginny...and I would get a chance to escape…to save myself—that was all she was thinking of – saving me… And I yelled…I told her not to—but—but she let go of her magic…it burst right out of her! Like—like light—transparent, glimmering—it was nothing like during the Troll incident…we hadn't seen her magic that time…but today, I saw it with my very eyes…it just burst out of her—and—and everything exploded then…I threw myself against the wall. And when I opened my eyes, Ginny was buried under the rubble…and I could sense Voldemort's thoughts. He didn't want to possess Ginny any more…and he—he got out of Ginny—he was a black cloud…like a cloud of black smoke…and—and he went into Acquila—"

"WHAT!" snarled Sirius. "HE POSSESSED ACQUILA?"

"Yes," said Harry, wincing as Sirius' fingers dug painfully into his shoulder. Sirius stood up suddenly, stepping away from Harry. And Harry could see why. The glass pitcher of water kept on the table in the corner exploded, sending water flying across the room. And Harry could have sworn he felt waves of magic flowing from Sirius. The floor of the room seemed to vibrate…almost like an earthquake of low intensity…and he knew Sirius' rage was fuelling his magic…his grey eyes were dark…and he had gripped his wand so hard that Harry was shocked it hadn't snapped into two…bright red sparks were emitting from the tip of Sirius' wand…and the floor continued to tremble. And the fury on Sirius' face was one that Harry had never seen – making his godfather look frightening, almost Dark.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed, and the sound of his voice seemed to have done the trick, for the shaking of the ground ceased abruptly, as did the red sparks from his wand.

"I'm sorry," muttered Sirius. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's alright—"

"What happened next?" asked Sirius, not even waiting for Harry to wave off his apologies for having lost control of his magic.

"It was horrible," said Harry, "I felt like I would die—I could—I could feel Voldemort in her! I could feel him in me! It was as if he'd possessed me—my scar began to bleed…I could've sworn my forehead had split into two…it was as if—as if I was buried under something heavy, something dark…and I swear, Sirius, I'd have preferred dying than dealing with the pain…" he admitted, as Sirius reached him in two long strides and pulled him into a tight hug. And Harry buried his face into Sirius' robes, suddenly not wanting to let go of the safety and warmth in his godfather's embrace.

"I'm sorry, kiddo…I'm so sorry…I should've been there…I should've helped you—"

"No! It's my fault! I should've protected Acquila!" he exclaimed, looking up at Sirius' ashen face now. "I should've done something—"

"You couldn't have done anything, Harry…Hell, I wouldn't have known what to do if I were in your place! It's Dark Magic, Harry…the darkest of Magic…possessing a living human—"

"And then," Harry continued hastily, wanting to tell it all to Sirius, "I felt as if Acquila was hanging on to me by a thin thread…a thread that was about to snap…And then, Voldemort screamed through Acquila…and he fled," Harry completed a little lamely.

"He fled?" exclaimed Sirius in amazement.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "I was just thinking of throwing off the pain…because I had to save Acquila…I couldn't let him possess her...and he fled—"

"But why would he—what else were you thinking?" asked Sirius, his expression half-thoughtful, half-curious.

"I just kept thinking that I had to save her…push the pain away…because I couldn't lose her…I love her too much…" he mumbled. "I mean, she's my best friend…and I didn't want Voldemort to take over her like he did to Ginny…"

Sirius merely nodded, his expression a little shifty, as if he was hiding something from Harry.

"What happened next? Where did the Basilisk come from?" he asked his godson.

"Voldemort fled…he seemed scared…from whatever I remember of his thoughts…and he won't come to Hogwarts ever again…I'm sure," said Harry, frowning as he tried to recollect more of Voldemort's thoughts. But he couldn't remember anything else, and he continued the retelling beginning with the arrival of Tom Riddle.

"He created the Basilisk?" gasped Sirius. "The memory in that diary? He created the Basilisk! Merlin! I never thought—Fuck! I should've tried looking deeper into the Chamber mystery, Harry! After we killed the Basilisk, I—I thought there was no more danger! I never thought—a memory in a diary! Shit! That's darker than any magic I know of! He must have possessed Ginny completely then…probably got a toad from the Great Lake…nicked a chicken egg from Hagrid's hen coop…cast Dark spells on it—Damn it! I never thought Voldemort—Tom Riddle—I never thought he'd create another Basilisk! Holy Shit! This is exactly why I hadn't wanted news of the Basilisk to leak out! Bloody Fudge! The ass—" Sirius stopped abruptly, seeming to realise that he was swearing in front of Harry.

Harry smiled sheepishly, before he continued again. And at the end of it all, Sirius was staring at Harry with an expression of unmistakable pride on his face.

"You were brilliant, kiddo," said Sirius softly, ruffling Harry's hair. "You were really brilliant! And you were so brave! Talking back to Voldemort like that. People far older than you have scarpered in fear at facing Voldemort! But you faced him courageously…both times…Riddle, as well as Voldemort. You spoke your mind so fearlessly…and attacking the Basilisk with spells! And the sword! It was Godric Gryffindor's sword, you know…"

Harry's mouth fell open in shock. "Gryffindor's sword?" he gasped.

"Yes," smiled Sirius, "Only a true Gryffindor would've been able to get the sword…and you were brave, Harry. Braver than I've ever been in my life!"

"You're a lot braver than me, Sirius," said Harry, his face heating up at all the praise Sirius was showering on him.

"No," said Sirius, "I wasn't half as brave as you when I was twelve…and you kept your wits in such a scary situation…and you saved Ginny and Acquila…If it wasn't for you, Ginny would've died…" he added, pulling Harry into another hug.

"James and Lily would've been really, really proud of you tonight…Prongs would probably have thrown a big party if he knew of you finding Gryffindor's sword in the Hat…He always wanted you to be in Gryffindor…" Sirius chuckled softly. "And I'm proud of you, too, Harry… More proud than I can ever put in words…"

"Thank you," mumbled Harry, as Sirius kissed his head affectionately.

"You know something, Harry," said Sirius after a long moment of comfortable silence. "You're far better than I am. I killed the Basilisk with the darkest of curses…with Fiendfyre. But, you? You killed it with Godric Gryffindor's sword! You didn't even use magic, let alone dark magic… you killed it with the sword belonging to the wizard who always stood for the Light. And that fact itself makes you a great wizard, Harry…someone who's good and pure at heart…or the sword would never have come to you… Some things never change…the Blacks always stood for the Dark. And the Potters for the Light… and though I hate being a Black, I couldn't wipe the darkness out of me…I used Fiendfyre… But you're just like your granddad…like your dad…and I'm sure both of them are smiling at you from the heavens. And I hope you don't change, kiddo…I hope you'll always remain as good as you are…" he trailed off, leaving Harry wondering of what exactly Sirius was thinking.

Sirius had killed the Basilisk with Fiendfyre. But Harry didn't think it was any less of an achievement than what he had done. And the Basilisk Sirius had fought was far bigger than the one Harry had faced. And with all the talk of Light and Dark, Harry wondered whether Sirius was thinking of Acquila's use of the Bone Breaking Curse. Was that why he was hoping Harry wouldn't change? Because he didn't want Harry to use Dark Magic?

But as he made to ask him about it, Sirius stood up.

"Let's go back to the Hospital Wing," he said, before taking out a familiar parchment from the pocket of his robes. "Dumbledore's back. I've to talk to him—"

"Where did you get that from?" exclaimed Harry. "It was in my trunk—"

"Neville gave it to me. And the twins told me all about how they found it…I spoke to them when you'd dozed off…" said Sirius.

"We were going to tell you about the Map when we came home for Summer…surprise you—"

"I know," smiled Sirius, before tapping the Map shut again. "I'll keep this with me for now…Remmy'll be glad to see it. He's coming to the Castle in a few hours… He and I'll keep you company when you'll be resting in the Hospital Wing all day—"

"I have a match tomorrow—I mean, today," said Harry quickly. "I want to play it, Sirius. We can win the Cup! I don't want to miss another match like I did last year—"

"But Poppy said—"

"Convince her to let me play, Sirius," said Harry pleadingly. "And I'm all healed now," he said, pointing to the healed gash on his arm.

"You've been through a lot, Harry," said Sirius firmly. "You need to rest—"

"Please! I'm fine, now! And we don't even have a reserve Seeker!"

"But—"

"Acquila would have wanted me to play," said Harry quietly. "She wanted to see us win the Cup…and if we lose, Slytherin will win it," he added slyly, knowing the Gryffindor in Sirius would hate to see Slytherin winning.

"Okay," sighed Sirius after a moment of contemplation. "I'll convince Poppy…and Andy," he added, before leading Harry to the Hospital Wing. And Harry fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down on the bed, deaf to Madam Pomfrey scolding Sirius for having taken her patient out of his bed without her consent.


"This is ridiculous, Sirius! My great-great-great-granddaughter! The last of the Blacks—"

"Calm down, Phineas," said Sirius to the portrait.

Dumbledore, who had been seeing the memory of Sirius' talk with Harry, lifted his head from the Pensieve, an extremely thoughtful expression on his face. While Dumbledore had been busy watching the memory, Sirius had given Phineas a brief version of what had happened, angering the former Black patriarch.

"Acquila could have died!" exclaimed Phineas. "Even Potter could have died!"

"So you finally admit that you're fond of Harry," remarked Sirius, none of the teasing tone that generally tinted his voice when he conversed with his ancestor.

"Yes—I mean—he's my descendant! And a Parselmouth! And you, Dumbledore!" said Phineas, looking at the Headmaster with a dark look on his face. "You are the Headmaster for Salazar's sake! And such incompetence in managing the school—"

"Phineas!"

"Look who's talking!"

"Don't you be so rude!"

The other portraits on the wall began to reprove Phineas, but the man in the portrait ignored them all.

"Acquila is the last of the Blacks! And what happened today was nothing short of—"

"I know I erred, Phineas," Dumbledore cut him off, sighing.

"It wasn't your fault, Dumbledore," interrupted Sirius, making Phineas stare at the Animagus in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you, boy!" growled Phineas. "Your daughter was almost killed! There was a Basilisk in the Castle, and this old dolt didn't even have an inkling of it! A student was possessed by a memory in a diary! And—"

"Stop!" groaned Sirius. "Look, Phineas, we'll talk of this later…but currently, there's a lot more on my mind… And—and I don't really blame you, Dumbledore. You had no way of knowing that Voldemort would come back to the Castle. And if anyone's to be blamed, it's me…I did nothing after we killed the Basilisk…I thought the danger was over. I didn't even look as deeply as I should have into who opened the Chamber…if I had carried on the investigations, none of this would've happened…"

"You Gryffindors are such self-vilifying fools," snorted Phineas, but he gave Sirius a look that said he would discuss more of this later. "And I want to talk to Potter," he added. "He's a ward of the Blacks, now. And he'd do well to learn some of our sense of self-preservation."

Sirius nodded absently, knowing that no matter who spoke to Harry, the boy would always put others above himself. He took after both, James and Lily, in that matter.

"And you are taking Acquila to Black Manor," continued Phineas.

"Why?" demanded Sirius.

"I want you to keep her safe…Magical exhaustion! Second time in two years! And I don't want duffers like the Diggory boy and those Weasley blood traitors swarming around her Hospital bed," Phineas grumbled. "Take her home…at least until she comes back to consciousness. And Andromeda can tend to her…"

As Sirius' eyebrow rose at Phineas saying 'Andromeda' instead of 'blood traitor', the portrait seemed to have realised what he had said.

"The blood traitor broke all of Black propriety and began to work as a Healer. She might as well put her skills to good use," said the potrait imperiously.

Sirius nodded in acquiescence. Phineas was right. Acquila would be better off at Black Manor until she recovered. Sirius wanted to be by her side until she woke up, and if she was kept at Hogwarts, it would raise a lot of questions among the students.

"So," said Sirius, as Dumbledore took a seat opposite him, the Headmaster's eyes twinkling as he took his gaze off Phineas, "Everyone in the International Magical Co-operation Department knew of your visit to France? And the Sports Department, too?"

"Yes," replied Dumbledore. "And there were people from the Ministry who authorised the International Portkeys. So they knew I was in France. It will be difficult to pinpoint who exactly relayed the information to Voldemort. Cornelius knew I was off to France, too. And you know how Cornelius is."

Sirius nodded. If the three schools, and the French, British and Bulgarian Ministries agreed to hold the Triwizard next year, Fudge would be the first Minister in recent years, in whose office term the tournament would be held. And Sirius was sure Fudge would have babbled about it to a lot of people. It would be very difficult to find out who was in league with Voldemort.

"But did you realise something, my boy?" asked Dumbledore, breaking Sirius out of his thoughts. "From what Harry told you, Voldemort was surprised to see him in the Chamber."

"I noticed that," said Sirius thoughtfully. "So Voldemort hadn't intended for Harry to come to the Chamber…hadn't known that Harry's mind is linked to his thoughts—"

"I doubt he even now knows that Harry can sense his thoughts," cut in Dumbledore.

"How the hell is Harry able to do that?" asked Sirius frustratedly. "It's—it's unnatural, Dumbledore! It's scary! Harry's just a kid—and—and being able to sense Voldemort's thoughts—"

"I told you, Sirius," said Dumbledore. "That Halloween night in 1981, Voldemort transferred some of his powers to Harry—"

"I can still understand transferring the ability to speak Parseltongue! But sharing thoughts, Dumbledore? Don't expect me to believe that!" cut in Sirius. "And what in Merlin's name is this diary? A memory possessing a girl! I've heard nothing of this sort! Ever! And I know more about Dark Magic than I ever wanted to!"

"Sirius," said Dumbledore, "Let us not talk of the diary, now—"

"What the—" began Sirius in annoyance.

"Listen to me, my boy. I do not want to form any wrong conclusion on the diary… Give me a day… I have a hunch about what it is… But give me a day, and tomorrow, we'll talk of the diary."

"One day, Dumbledore," said Sirius reluctantly. "A single day. I'll hold you to that."

Dumbledore hummed in agreement.

"So, Voldemort didn't come to the Castle to harm Harry…not tonight, at least," said Sirius pensively. "Or he wouldn't have been shocked at seeing Harry. Why do you think he dared come to the Castle, then? He must have got news of the Basilisk being killed by us—"

"And he would have wanted to know who had the diary…to see which was the student being possessed by his teenage memory—" put in Dumbledore.

"Damn!" swore Sirius. "If—if Harry hadn't gone to the Chamber tonight, Voldemort would have been well-placed to kill him through Ginny! Ginny's Ron's sister! And Harry lives in the same Tower as her!"

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "And I'm afraid to say that he might even have succeeded. Ginny seems to have had no friends…and none of her brothers even noticed that she was being possessed by the diary…"

"You bloody promised me that he won't come to the Castle again! That he's scared of you!" growled Sirius, now rather furious. And he saw Phineas cast an appreciative glance at him.

"I know I said that, my boy," sighed Dumbledore, "But Cornelius printing the news of the Chamber being opened and the Basilisk being destroyed, put things in motion. If Voldemort hadn't known of you killing the Basilisk, I doubt he would have dared to come to Hogwarts again. But the opening of the Chamber made him know that there was someone in the Castle who had been possessed by the diary – someone he could use to achieve his own ends. And you heard what Harry said, didn't you? Tonight was the first time Voldemort came to Hogwarts…and he did so because he knew I wasn't in the Castle—"

"He'll—"

"But Voldemort certainly won't come to the Castle again," Dumbledore interrupted Sirius' retort.

"I know that!" said Sirius. "Harry told me that! But—but Voldemort possessed Acquila…and Harry threw him off! But why did Voldemort flee? Harry didn't even do anything! He just thought of Acquila—"

"Love, my dear boy. It was the power of love. Harry thought of how much he loved Acquila…of how he couldn't lose her. And it was that love which drove Voldemort away. Voldemort couldn't stand to be in a body that was so pure…so full of love—"

"Love?" snorted Sirius, as Phineas snorted disbelievingly, too. "You expect me to believe that Voldemort scarpered just because Harry thought of how much he loves Acquila?"

"Didn't Lily's love save Harry?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, it did," agreed Sirius, "But—but possessing a living human is the darkest of Magic, Dumbledore…and Harry threw Voldemort out of Acquila just with love? It sounds utterly ridiculous!"

"Love is far more powerful than even the darkest of Magic, Sirius. You, of all people, should believe that. Wasn't it your friends' love for you that pulled you away from the grips of your family, from the darkness that dwelled within most Blacks?"

"That's different!" protested Sirius. "That was—that was different! But what happened today…it was—Voldemort possessed Acquila!"

"It isn't different, Sirius. Love has more facets to it than we'll ever discover. And love is what makes Harry a lot different than Voldemort. Riddle told Harry that they both were alike – both half-bloods, orphans. But what sets Harry apart, what makes him far greater than Voldemort can ever become, is his heart, which is pure, untainted, full of love. If it was another child instead of the Harry in the care of the Dursley's, he would probably have not even known how to love, would have lost faith in love after the treatment he received at the hands of his relatives. But Harry didn't. Harry loves Acquila…he loves you and Remus and his friends and even the Tonkses. And in the very end, it is his ability to love, to put those he loves above himself, which will help him prevail over the darkness," said Dumbledore.

"'Put those he loves above himself', Dumbledore?" remarked Phineas from the portrait. "Don't you encourage Potter's self-sacrificing tendencies! If he hadn't foolhardily cared for the Weasley girl, he wouldn't have put himself and Acquila in danger tonight!"

Phineas seemed to be on the verge of extending his rant, but he fell silent at a look from Sirius.

"Voldemort probably knows of the Soul Bond, now," sighed Sirius. "Harry and Acquila's spells merged in mid-air into one… and when he possessed Acquila, he would've known that he had somehow possessed Harry, too—he—he would probably have sensed their link."

"You're right," said Dumbledore. "And that, unfortunately, puts both the children in greater danger. Of course, Voldemort wouldn't right away realise that they are a Bonded couple, since the Bond is a very lesser-known field of Magic. But with someone within the Ministry helping him, I am certain Voldemort will have access to ancient books on the rarest of magical mysteries—"

"Damn it!" said Sirius. "Who do you think the spy is?"

"It could be anyone, Sirius. It could be anyone," replied Dumbledore grimly. "But I will look into it."

"You heard what Harry said, didn't you?" said Sirius suddenly. "The first Shield Charm Ginny—er—Voldemort sent was a powerful one. It tripled Harry's Disarming Spell and sent it back at him. But after that, the power behind his spells seemed to have lessened…He won't possess a student again…"

"Yes," agreed Dumbledore. "I know you have trained the children well, but they couldn't have survived a duel with Voldemort. But they did. Because Ginny's magical core isn't developed as yet…The later spells he sent weren't as intense."

"So he'll possess someone older…someone stronger—" began Sirius.

"Or," put in Phineas off-handedly, "He'll try to recreate his own body!"

"That—that isn't possible!" sputtered Sirius, though he knew Phineas was right. But even the thought of Voldemort rising again made him fear for Harry's safety.

"Nothing's impossible in the wizarding world, Sirius," said Phineas coolly. "If a fifteen month-old toddler could survive the Dark Lord's Killing Curse, why would recreating a body be impossible? And the two times the Dark Lord possessed someone to kill Potter, he failed. He wouldn't think of killing Potter by possessing another human, only to face another defeat. He'll want to do it himself…with his own hands…his own wand."

"Voldemort doesn't like to depend on others, Sirius," said Dumbledore, agreeing with the former Headmaster. "Even when he wanted the Philosopher's Stone, it was a temporary measure. He wouldn't have liked depending on the Stone for his survival. After tonight, Voldemort won't ever come back to the Castle. And he knows that if he wants to defeat Harry, he needs his own body back—"

"And how would he go about creating a new body for himself?" asked Sirius.

"Dark Magic," said Dumbledore softly. "It hasn't ever been done before, especially since no wizard in known history was alive in a wraith-like form. But with Voldemort having delved far deeper into Dark Magic than anyone previously has, it is quite possible that he would find a way to come back to his own physical form…"

"We have to stop him," muttered Sirius.

"We have to," agreed Dumbledore.

"Do we reform the Order?" asked Sirius quietly. "We need people to look into this…a few more heads working on finding out who Voldemort's spy in the Ministry is—"

"No," said Dumbledore calmly, though his voice was firm.

"Why not?" asked Sirius. "If Voldemort is going to try to come back, we need people to be aware of it. We need to—"

"We cannot tell people of Voldemort, as yet, Sirius," said Dumbledore. "Not after I saw what this diary was capable of." He ran a finger over the hole in the diary.

"Why do you insist on keeping everything a secret?" snapped Sirius in annoyance.

"Trust me, Sirius. I will give you all your answers tomorrow," said Dumbledore calmly, relieved to see the black-haired wizard irritably give in to him.

"Another thing," said Sirius suddenly. "Why does this keep happening with Acquila? Her magic bursting out of her? This is the second time this has happened! And her magic seems to be getting even more powerful—"

"Because," began Dumbledore, "I think that the power within her isn't hers alone."

"You mean—you mean her magic…the power…it's Harry's?" asked Sirius incredulously.

"It is quite possible," said Dumbledore.

"But—but why doesn't the power—go—go into Harry, then? If it belongs to him, too?"

"That," said Dumbledore, "Is one of the mysteries of the Bond. It is for Harry and Acquila to find that out."

Sirius swore incoherently under his breath, before he looked at Dumbledore again.

"Tomorrow…I want all my answers tomorrow," he said.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, his face a little grave as he looked at the diary again.

Sirius stood up to depart.

"Another thing," he said, and Dumbledore's gaze shifted to him. "Harry wants to play the match tomorrow. If I can't convince Poppy, will you—"

"I'll talk to Poppy," said Dumbledore. "Anything to put a smile on the boy's face. After all that he went through tonight, I will do anything to make him remain a child a little longer."

Sirius nodded slightly, making to leave, but Phineas stopped him.

"Take care of Acquila," said the portrait. "And Potter, too," he added in a gruff undertone.

And Sirius nodded, smiling slightly at how the blood purist Black had taken a liking to Harry.


The Quidditch stadium was filled with students – some of them excited, some screaming, some swearing, cheering, jeering, and some of the neutral Hufflepuffs just watching the game. At any other time, Remus would have observed the myriad emotions on the students' faces. He would have applauded the goal the Gryffindor Chaser scored. The commentator Lee Jordan, with his witty, humourous commentary and his frequent comments on his crush on Angelina, the Gryffindor Chaser, would have made Remus wonder whether James would have sounded similar as a commentator, with 'Angelina' replaced by 'Lily'. And most of all, he would have watched Harry, who looked just like James – especially from the far distance, where his green irises weren't clearly visible.

But presently, he was just looking at the man sitting beside him, whose eyes were fixed on the black-haired Gryffindor Seeker. Sirius seemed rather engrossed in watching Harry, but Remus knew that his thoughts were probably still with Acquila and with what had happened the previous night.

Remus had come to Hogwarts early that morning. And when he had entered the Hospital Wing, he hadn't noticed either of the children, but the despondent figure by a bed. Sirius sat beside Acquila's bed, her pale hand clasped gently in his, his foot tapping on the floor in pace with her heartbeats, as if to reassure himself that she was alive. His other hand gently brushed the hair off Acquila's forehead.

And his face had been devoid of any emotion. But Remus – who, like James, was skilled at reading the expressions in Sirius' eyes than his face– realised that the Head of the Blacks was hurting inwardly.

His eyes were downcast, and Remus knew Sirius was feeling guilty at having been unable to keep the children safe. His usually-bright eyes were red-rimmed, too. And Remus knew it wasn't from lack of sleep, but probably from Sirius holding in his emotions at seeing his daughter unconscious and his godson hurt.

"Quit staring at me, Remmy!" said Sirius, bringing Remus out of his thoughts. And he then noticed that all the Ravenclaws and Slytherins were cheering. Ravenclaw had probably scored a goal.

"Uh—sorry! I was just thinking," said Remus.

"Hmm," said Sirius absently. "He looks just like Jamie, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does," agreed Remus, a reminiscent smile on his face as he remembered James sending the Quaffle repeatedly into the goal posts, zigzagging through the other players.

"Prongs would've been so proud of him," said Sirius softly, as Remus nodded in agreement.

As Gryffindor scored another goal, Remus noticed Ron, Hermione and Neville cheering loudly for Katie Bell. And as he saw Neville smiling widely, Remus smiled as well.

It was a few minutes before the match that Remus had spoken to Neville. Sirius had told him of how Hermione, Ron and Neville had gone after Harry and Acquila, alerting the teachers and defending themselves against Lockhart in their bid to help their friends.

And Remus had been quite happy with the Longbottom boy – not only because it was Remus who had taught him the Shield Charm, but because Neville's confidence in spell-casting would probably improve now on.

But instead of being proud of himself, Remus had noticed that Neville seemed rather glum. And a little chat with the boy had told Remus that Neville felt guilty at having wiped off all of Lockhart's memory, even if it had been unintentional and in self-defence. Remus knew that it had probably reminded Neville of his own parents, who were full-time patients in St. Mungos, with no recollection at all of any of their memories.

And Remus had spoken to Neville for quite some time, gently telling the boy that what had happened wasn't his fault; that Lockhart had deserved what he got. Neville hadn't meant for the DADA teacher's memory to be wiped off; it had been in self-defence. And it was only when Remus told him that if it hadn't been for Neville's quick action, Ron and Hermione would have lost their memories forever that Neville finally seemed to go easy on his self-guilt.

"You spoke to Neville, then?" asked Sirius, following Remus' gaze.

"I did. He seems much better now, doesn't he?" said Remus, looking at the boy.

"He does," agreed Sirius. "I'm glad you spoke to him. Lady Augusta isn't that good with handling Neville's emotions, I think. And you're a lot better at explaining things than I am—Hey! Look! He seems to have seen the Snitch!" said Sirius suddenly, as the two men looked at Harry, who was zooming towards the glimmering Snitch.

"Come on, kiddo!" yelled Sirius, making Remus smile at the sudden enthusiasm in his voice. At least the match seemed to have taken Sirius' mind off Acquila for some time.

"Catch it—catch—YES!" exclaimed Sirius, as Harry's thin fingers finally curled around the Snitch.

And the stadium erupted into jubilant shouts from the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and even some Ravenclaws. Though they had lost the match, the Ravenclaws seemed to be glad that Slytherin hadn't won.

"Gryffindor beats Ravenclaw 290-70! And they win the Quidditch Cup, too!" Lee Jordan's joyful voice rang through the stadium, as Remus and Sirius stood up, applauding with Hagrid, McGonagall and Dumbledore. And Remus even saw Sirius throw a smug smirk at Snape, who was seething at his House losing the Cup.

As Harry descended onto the ground, into the arms of his joyous teammates, his green eyes landed on the two men. And he smiled a wide smile at them, looking just like James in that moment, as he swept his messy locks off his forehead.

'Well done!' mouthed Remus, before Harry vanished among the cheering Gryffindor team.

"Brilliant, isn't he?" asked Sirius, still smiling on looking at Harry, who was now being lifted on to the twins' shoulders, with Oliver Wood looking as if he was controlling his tears of happiness.

"Yes, he is," said Remus, as Ron and Neville dragged Harry off the twins' shoulders to hug him tightly; while Hermione gleefully ruffled Harry's hair, before pulling him into a hug, too. And for a moment, Remus noticed the smile slip off Harry's face, and he wondered whether it was because he was missing Acquila.

"I'd say he flies even better than Jamie did," said Sirius, as they began walking down the stands towards Harry.

"Yes. Dora thinks Harry's better than even Charlie—" Remus stopped as Sirius' face lit up at his utterance of 'Dora'.

"Dora, is it?" asked Sirius teasingly. "From Nymphadora to Dora…maybe she'll go from being a Tonks to being a Lupin in some days!"

"Shut up, Padfoot," groaned Remus, bemoaning the slipping of Nymphadora's nickname from his lips.

The Metamorphmagus had been by Remus' side the previous night, keeping him company as he recovered from the after-effects of the full moon transformation. And Remus had gotten to know the girl a lot better. And he couldn't deny that the more he knew of her, the more he got attracted towards her. Hell, he'd even begun to find her clumsiness adorable! And the way she'd been worried about Harry and Acquila in an almost-motherly way, had Remus admiring what a loving witch Nymphadora was. Added to that, her cheerfulness, her ability to find the best in even the worst of things, made her all the more attractive to him.

"Ahem," Sirius coughed an exaggerated cough, drawing Remus' attention away from thoughts of Nymphadora. "So…how was the night, Remmy? Please tell me you kissed her—"

"Ugh! No, Sirius! She's just twenty for Merlin's sake!"

"So what?" responded Sirius, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"You're such a hypocrite, Padfoot!" responded Remus. "Marcus Flint gave a rose to Acquila, and you couldn't stop grumbling about it for a week! Because he's seven years older to Acquila! I'm thirteen years older to Nymphadora—"

"You're a good man, Remmy," cut in Sirius. "But Flint's a goofball! And—" Sirius paused as they saw a tall, good-looking boy talking to Harry.

"—congratulations!" They heard the boy saying, and from the wary look on Sirius' face, Remus suddenly realised who the boy was – Cedric Diggory!

"Thanks!" Remus heard Harry reply, as they neared him.

"—played really well! An amazing catch!"

Harry thanked the boy modestly in reply.

"Where's Acquila, by the way?" Remus heard Diggory say, and he felt Sirius stiffen next to him. "I didn't see her anywhere…I wanted to talk to her…"

Harry hesitated, not knowing what to reply. The events of the previous night were secret for most of the school. Dumbledore had told Sirius that he would have to inform Lucius Malfoy and the other people on the Board of Governors. But no one else in the school had been told of what had happened in the Chamber – not even Ron, Hermione and Neville, since Harry hadn't got a chance to talk to them. He'd been reluctantly discharged by Madam Pomfrey just minutes before the match, with no time to talk to anyone.

"Well-played, Harry!" said Remus a little loudly, and both the boys turned to them. Remus heard a soft sigh of relief from Harry, probably because he wouldn't have to answer Diggory's question, now.

"You were amazing, kiddo," said Sirius softly, as he hugged Harry, but his gaze was fixed on Diggory. And Remus noticed that the gaze wasn't a pleasant one.

"Umm…Sirius, this is Cedric Diggory," said Harry, now noticing his godfather staring at Cedric. Well, Acquila wouldn't have been happy with her father glaring daggers at the boy she almost-certainly fancied. But Acquila wasn't here, now. And Harry thought he'd better try toning down the intensity of Sirius' glare by forcing him to be polite, rather than face Acquila's ire when she woke up.

"And this is Sirius Black, my godfather." Harry turned to Diggory. "And Remus Lupin," he gestured towards Remus.

Remus smiled at the Diggory, and he noticed that the Hufflepuff seemed a lot more comfortable with his cordial smile than with Sirius' piercing, calculating gaze.

"Hello," said Diggory, smiling at Remus. The boy shot a polite smile at Sirius, too. And Remus had to discreetly nudge Sirius with his elbow, to make the Animagus stop glaring at Diggory and acknowledge him.

"Padfoot! Moony! We won!" came two voices in unison from behind them – the Weasley twins.

"I'll get going then," said Diggory, noticing the two redheads. "See you around, Harry. And it was nice meeting you, Lord Black, Mister Lupin," he added to the two older wizards, shooting another smile, before he walked away.

"We'd have lost the Cup if it wasn't for mini-Prongs," said Fred, ruffling Harry's hair.

"Yes, Padfoot! Your godson's one hell of a Seeker!" put in George, as Sirius finally smiled, talking to the two Weasley pranksters and praising their Beater skills, with Fred telling the Animagus to give them some tips, since Sirius had been a good Beater during his school days.

But Remus didn't really pay much attention to their conversation, Diggory still on his mind. He couldn't deny that the boy was really handsome. And if Acquila was anything like her Black ancestors, who were famous for their taste in handsome wizards and witches, he knew she would certainly fall for Diggory. Sirius was going to be in for a tough time.


It was after the match that Sirius entered the Hospital Wing along with Dumbledore. Arthur Weasley was sitting on a chair next to his daughter's bed. Ginny was now awake; and she was sitting up, resting her back against the pillow.

Sirius sighed softly, relieved at seeing the girl in a relatively better state. He had been worried for Ginny. After all, she had been possessed by the diary for months, along with being possessed by Voldemort. To add to it, she had broken quite a few bones, and suffered blood loss. And he remembered her pale face when she had been brought in, looking as if her very life had been sucked out of her.

But she looked better now. Her bones seemed to have been mended, and she didn't seem to be in pain. But she did look scared as Sirius and Dumbledore approached her.

"Sirius," said Arthur Weasley as he stood up. "I apologise for all that happened. If Ginny hadn't—"

"None of that, Arthur," said Sirius. "Voldemort has tricked people far older than Ginny…and I don't blame her at all… Nor does Harry," he added, noticing Ginny's stiff posture loosening a bit, though the father-daughter duo flinched at the utterance of 'Voldemort'.

"How are you feeling now, Miss Weasley?" asked Dumbledore genially.

"I'm—I'm fine, Professor…better than I was," said Ginny in a small voice.

"Good to hear that, my dear girl. Now, will you answer a few questions for us?" asked Dumbledore.

"Only if you wish to speak, Ginny," put in Sirius, not wanting to pressurise the girl. If it had been Acquila, he knew she wouldn't have liked to be questioned this soon after the incident.

"She has agreed to talk," said Arthur, as Dumbledore conjured two chairs next to Ginny's bed.

As Sirius and Dumbledore sat down, Ginny looked up wearily, her eyes filled with deep guilt, her frail-looking hands trembling on top of the covers.

"Miss Weasley, why don't you start from the beginning?" said Dumbledore said in a soothing voice.

"Will you tell us how you got the diary?" asked Sirius gently, as Ginny looked on, mute.

She turned her gaze to her father; she seemed to be on the brink of breaking down.

"Go on, dear. Tell them," encouraged Arthur, as he sat beside Ginny, putting an arm around her, as Ginny leaned into her father.

"You aren't going to be punished for anything, child," said Dumbledore, his face calm. "You will neither be punished nor expelled. You were possessed by Voldemort. You didn't know what you were doing. You aren't at fault."

"But—but I put everyone in danger... I got Myrtle petrified—and Colin...he's—he's in my class! I hurt him, too—and—H—Harry and Acquila almost d—died saving me," she said brokenly, before burying her face in her father's robes. And Sirius knew she was crying.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," she mumbled, her voice muffled, as the red-haired wizard patted her head gently.

"You don't need to apologise Ginny. And don't blame yourself. I know Harry doesn't blame you...and he wouldn't want you to blame yourself either..." said Sirius.

"He hates me," she whispered in a choked voice.

"No, Ginny. He doesn't…He knows it isn't your fault," assured Sirius.

And Ginny finally nodded, smiling slightly.

"Now, Miss Weasley, why don't you tell us what exactly happened?" said Dumbledore. "From the very beginning…"

"The diary—T—Tom Riddle's diary... I found it along with my books... the ones I'd bought from Diagon Alley. When Dad lunged at Mr Malfoy, my books…and H—Harry's books fell onto the floor…in Flourish and Blotts…And I think—I—I picked mistakenly picked up the diary…I found it in my books when I went home…"

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. Had the diary been unintentionally slipped into Ginny's books, then? But that seemed too much of a coincidence…or was it intended for Harry?

"At first, I thought it was some Tom Riddle's personal diary… his name was etched on it…and I thought of telling Mum about it…so that we could return it…but the diary was a very old one…and I got curious…I opened it, but it was completely empty…I wanted to tell Mum about it…but—but the diary was strange…I felt like writing in it…as if it was telling me to write in it…" Ginny went on as the other three intently listened to every word.

"I wrote my name on the first page…but—but the ink disappeared! And the diary wrote back to me…it said 'I am Tom Riddle'… I kept—kept writing in the diary…and Tom kept writing back…and in time—he—he became my best friend…" Ginny continued.

Sirius saw Arthur open his mouth to speak –as if to reprimand Ginny of the dangers of writing in an unknown magical book – but he remained silent, probably realising that this wasn't the right time to scold his traumatised daughter.

"There wasn't a single day that I didn't write in it…And Tom seemed to understand me…" Ginny trailed off guiltily.

"Would you tell us of what you wrote in the diary, Miss Weasley?" asked Dumbledore kindly.

"I t—told him of all my—my thoughts…everything that went on in life…" replied Ginny, not meeting their eyes.

"And?" prompted Arthur at a gesture from Sirius.

"And—and my fears…I—I told him of how I—I wanted to be friends with Harry…and T—Tom asked me about him…I told him all that I knew—but I didn't mean to! I really didn't! I didn't know he meant to harm Harry!" she said, her tone panicked, pleading with them to believe her.

"I told you, Ginny, we don't blame you at all," said Sirius.

Ginny nodded again, before continuing. "I told him about Acquila, too," she said almost inaudibly.

"What about her?" asked Sirius, a little more sharply than he had intended to.

"About how…how she's Harry's best friend…how—she's always with Harry…and—and I told Tom about you, too," she said to Sirius, glancing at him a little fearfully. "About what happened at Harry's birthday…and about how Ron told me you're like a father to Harry… Tom seemed very—very interested in you…and I—I thought he was just trying to help me…but he asked me a lot about you. I told him all that I knew about you—and that you were training to be an Auror… He seemed very curious about—about you being the Head of the Blacks…the last male Black…Harry's godfather…"

Sirius sighed softly, realising why Tom Riddle had known so much about him; realising why exactly Riddle had gone about petrifying Myrtle, to stop Sirius from gaining information on the previous attacks.

"That is how Voldemort's memory possessed you," put in Dumbledore. "He was feeding on your feelings, on your insecurities, and getting stronger."

Ginny shuddered at mention of Voldemort, as Arthur tightened his hold on her.

"I—I began realising that something was wrong," said Ginny. "I didn't remember stuff…like I didn't remember what had happened the past few hours sometimes, or I didn't remember where I'd been at times…"

Arthur's expression turned even more concerned on knowing of Ginny's lapses in memory.

"That day when Moaning Myrtle got petrified... Halloween...I didn't remember anything of that evening…I came to my senses that night, in the dormitory bathroom…and—and my robes were covered in red paint. The next day, when I heard what had hap—happened, I knew it was somehow linked to m—me…But I didn't know the diary was making me do things…I even wrote in it, telling Tom of the red paint…But he said I'd done nothing wrong…"

"So you don't remember opening the Chamber at all?" asked Sirius, and Ginny shook her head.

"Then, that night when Colin got petrified," Ginny went on, looking at a bed covered by curtains, in which Colin still lay petrified.

"I woke up in a corridor…I heard voices and footsteps…and I saw all the Gryffindors were being led down to the Great Hall…and I joined in. No one even noticed that I joined them later…I don't have many friends…" she admitted. "I had the diary in my hand when I'd woken up. And that's when I realised that the diary was behind it my lack of memory…and—and the Chamber and the petrifications. I—I faintly remembered the diary telling me to leave Gryffindor Tower that night. From all the talk, I heard Colin was petrified and it scared me! I had almost killed someone!" she said, her face horrified.

"I couldn't sleep all night...and early that morning, I heard you coming in," she said, looking at Sirius. "You said you'd call the Aurors. And I was afraid! I was scared you'd link it all to me and put me in Azkaban! I knew I had to get rid of the diary…I know I should have told someone—Percy or one of the teachers… but I was scared I'd be expelled... and I didn't want anyone finding out it was me—I'm sorry...it—it all would have ended there—if—if I had just—" she trailed off, her eyes moist again.

"Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore calmly. "People make bad choices – choices which lead to events they can't undo. But in the end, it is these very wrong choices, these very mistakes that help us learn, help us evolve, and mould our future choices. It's better to make a mistake and learn from it, than to never err and learn nothing.

"Even a mistake that would have cost Harry his life?" asked Ginny, her voice quivering.

"What matters, Ginny," put in Sirius, "is that Harry is alive, you're alive, Acquila's alive," he added, casting a glance at Acquila's unconscious form. "And you'll know better than to trust an unknown magical object with your thoughts in future."

Ginny nodded and continued, blinking back her unshed tears. "I was thinking of a way to get rid of it—and—and I remembered Fred and George telling me about the Vanishing Cabinet..."

Dumbledore and Sirius nodded knowingly.

"I kept the diary in the Cabinet after breakfast, and when I checked it before dinner it had vanished!" said Ginny.

"And this was the day after Colin got petrified?" asked Sirius. "How did you get it back then? When did you get it back?"

"From the library...on Valentine's Day," she replied. "I don't know how it landed there…but there it was...in one of the shelves...squeezed in between two books—I wouldn't even have noticed it if I hadn't been so—so familiar with it…it was as if it was hidden there. But I couldn't just leave it there...I couldn't let it fall into someone else's hands...I was scared Tom would tell all my secrets if someone else found the diary. So I took it..." Ginny said.

Sirius shared a glance with Dumbledore. Things put in the Vanishing Cabinet certainly didn't end up in the Hogwarts library. So someone else had got their hands on it and hidden it there.

"I took the diary but couldn't figure out where to hide it," continued Ginny. "I put it in the fireplace but it didn't burn…and I didn't know any spells to destroy it. I just kept it in my trunk. For a few days everything was fine... but slowly, every time I opened my trunk I felt—a—a pull towards it, till I couldn't resist writing in it…and I began writing again," she mumbled, ashamed that she had fallen into the same trap again. She was silent for a moment, but then went on.

"And then, the lapses in my memory began again…I found myself in the second floor bathroom…my clothes dripping wet…hen feathers stuck on it—and—and there was a broken egg in my pocket…and then—then I went blank again—and the next thing I knew, I was in the girls dormitory again..."

Sirius' eyes widened at that. Ginny's clothes were dripping wet – so she'd probably snagged a toad from the Lake. And a chicken egg… so that was how Tom Riddle had created the Basilisk. A chicken egg hatched under a toad, with a few Dark spells aiding the process.

"I don't remember losing my memory any time after that," mumbled Ginny. "Except yesterday night... of which I don't remember a single thing..."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Thank you for talking to us, Ginny," said Dumbledore. "I know it must have been difficult for you to relive all of it. But all this information is going to help us. And remember, the next time you find an object that can talk for itself, inform someone...unless the object is the Sorting Hat," he added, his eyes twinkling, and Ginny smiled a watery smile.

"Thank you, Ginny," said Sirius. "And get well soon…"

Ginny smiled at him, too, as Sirius turned to go to Acquila's bed. But he spun around, looking at Arthur.

Arthur walked towards him, and they went out of Ginny's earshot.

"Arthur," said Sirius, "Ginny has gone through a lot. And she's just a child. I feel you should let her see a Mind Healer… emotional scars can take a lot of time to heal…especially for children…and the fact that Ginny seems to have no friends will make it tougher for her… It's just a suggestion, but I hope you get her a little help. And if you do intend to take her to a Mind Healer, I'd suggest Ted Tonks. He knows of all that happened yesterday, and he'll be able to help Ginny heal sooner."

Arthur nodded. "I'll talk of this with Molly," he said. "Thank you, Sirius."

Sirius smiled slightly, before going back to Acquila's bedside, his mind full of what Ginny had just said.


Harry entered Dumbledore's office, a little nervously. He was sure that the Headmaster hadn't called him to congratulate him on winning the Quidditch Cup. He had called him to speak to him about what had happened the previous night.

"Potter!" exclaimed a familiar voice which Harry hadn't heard in months.

"Grandfather Phineas," said Harry, looking up at the portrait, and a little surprised at the slight happiness that formed within him on seeing his sardonic ancestor. He had never really liked Phineas…it was Acquila who got on really well with the man in the portrait. But over the Christmas vacations, Phineas and his sarcastic wit had begun growing on Harry.

"You are such a foolish boy, Potter! My great-great-grandson, the only Parselmouth currently in existence! And such sickening selflessness—"

"I—er—I just—" stuttered Harry.

"Stop stuttering, you dolt! And bring out the Black within you! What was that with risking your life to save that Weasley blood traitor?" demanded Phineas snidely.

"I couldn't have let Ginny die!" exclaimed Harry, and Phineas rolled his eyes – making even that exasperated gesture seem strangely elegant.

"You are such a—"

"Ah! Harry!" said a pleasant voice. "You can talk to him later, Phineas," he said to the man in the portrait, who grumbled under his breath.

"Professor Dumbledore," mumbled Harry in greeting, sitting down on the chair that Dumbledore gestured to.

"I am sorry to have called you here, when you should have been celebrating your wonderful victory with the rest of your House," said the Headmaster.

"It's all right," muttered Harry. He had only half-heartedly joined in the post-match celebrations. Harry had wanted to win the Cup, and celebrate the victory with Acquila. But with Acquila unconscious, and the strange little void in his heart, he hadn't been too keen on joining in the celebrations. And honestly, he was a little glad that Dumbledore had called him, because it had given Harry a reason to get away from the celebrations – celebrations which seemed incomplete without Acquila.

"Lemon drop?" asked Dumbledore, taking a lemon drop from a small crystal bowl and popping it into his mouth.

"Uh—Thank you, sir," said Harry, taking one from the bowl.

"Let me begin by thanking you, Harry," said Dumbledore, as Fawkes let out a low musical sound.

"You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber," Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling. "Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you." He stroked the Phoenix as it landed on his knee, and Harry grinned sheepishly.

"I called you to my office, Harry, to ask you about this diary," Dumbledore went on, placing the small, black book with a large whole in the middle of it. "Tell me what exactly happened when you stabbed it."

Harry took a deep breath as images of the previous night flashed through his mind.

"When I killed the Basilisk with the sword," began Harry, as Dumbledore's eyes lit up with pride at the mention of the sword of Gryffindor, "One of its fangs lodged into my arm…the fang splintered when the Basilisk fell. I wrenched it out of my hand," —Harry winced at the recollection of the pain of pulling the fang out of his arm— "before Fawkes came and healed the wound. The diary—Tom Riddle—he was still there... sucking on Ginny's life... I had to do something... So, I grabbed the fang—I didn't even know why I did it!" he said, a little perplexed himself. "I felt as if I knew what I had to do—I was—I stabbed the diary with the fang—as if I'd meant to do it all along! But I never even knew that it would kill the diary—or Riddle, rather…"

Dumbledore nodded, as Harry continued.

"I plunged the fang here," —he pointed at the gaping hole in the diary— "and Riddle began to scream... and ink started spurting out from the diary—almost like a flood—there was so much ink! And then, Sirius came running in…he pointed his wand at Riddle…but Riddle was twisting and—he was screaming…and he vanished," Harry finished.

Dumbledore looked extremely pensive, and Harry would have paid a galleon to know what the wise, old man was thinking.

"Basilisk venom destroys the darkest of objects," murmured Dumbledore, sounding as if he was making a mental note than telling Harry.

"Hmm," said Dumbledore, still thoughtful, as he summoned the sword of Gryffindor towards him, before running his fingers over the blade.

"Hmm," he repeated.

"Will you stop humming and tell us what you are thinking, Dumbledore?" came Phineas' annoyed voice, and Harry was glad the portrait had asked that, for even he wanted to know what was going on in Dumbledore's wise old mind.

"I think—" began Dumbledore, only to stop when the door burst open.

"Ah! Lucuis!" said the Headmaster, and Harry turned around to see the Malfoy patriarch come storming into the office, a look of absolute fury on his face. And cowering behind him was a heavily-bandaged house elf.

Harry's eyes widened in recognition as he remembered the elf. It was Dobby – the elf he'd seen at the Malfoy's Christmas ball a year and a half ago.

"Harry Potter!" exclaimed Dobby in an awed whisper, only for Lucius to poke him hard with his cane. And the elf whimpered in pain.

"Don't hurt him!" said Harry indignantly, but Lucius merely sneered at him.

"Don't put your nose into affairs that have nothing to do with you, boy," said Lucius. "Your dear godfather isn't here to protect you now—"

"Are you threatening a ward of my House, Lucius?" asked Phineas from his portrait, his black eyes dark. And Harry was rather surprised that Phineas had come to his defence against the pureblood Lucius.

"Not at all, Lord Phineas," said Lucius, inclining his head slightly at the portrait. "I was merely—"

"What brings you here, Lucius?" asked Dumbledore calmly.

Lucius walked further, and stopped right next to where Harry was seated.

"What is this I hear, Dumbledore?" asked Lucius, his cold eyes fixed on the older wizard, "Strange tales about three students fighting another Basilisk, and one of them being possessed by something dark? As a Governor of Hogwarts, I demand an explanation! We can't have the students' safety in jeopardy!"

"It is partly true," said Dumbledore. "It was Voldermort's memory that possessed Miss Weasley through this diary." Dumbledore pointed at the ruin of the diary on the table, and Harry noticed that Lucius, strangely, seemed even paler than he usually did. And he knew that it wasn't at the utterance of Voldemort's name, but it had something to do with the diary, for Lucius' eyes were focused on the black book.

"And Harry defeated the Basilisk," Dumbledore went on, gesturing at Harry.

But the boy in question was now looking at Dobby, who was trying to tell something through strange hand signals. Dobby was pointing at Lucius, and then, at the diary, and he was then punching himself in his head. This cycle went on two more times and a worried Harry decided to shift closer to Dobby before he killed himself.

Lucius was listening to Dumbledore's summary of the events in the Chamber – minus everything about Voldemort's wraith, and with lessening the extent of Ginny's involvement in it. And taking advantage of Lucius' attention on Dumbledore, Harry slipped out of his chair and went towards Dobby.

"What is it, Dobby?" Harry asked.

Dobby looked warily at Lucius, and then turned to Harry. But Harry noticed a swish of what seemed like magic, pass by him. And when he looked at Dumbledore, the Headmaster smiled slightly at him, before continuing talking to Lucius. And Harry realised that Dumbledore had cast some privacy Charm to let him talk to the elf.

"Dobby is very glad Harry Potter is alive!" whispered Dobby, his huge eyes swiveling to Lucius every alternate second. "You was in danger, Harry Potter! Dobby tried to stop—blocked the entrance to Kings Cross—"

"WHAT!" exclaimed Harry in a loud whisper. "You were the elf who blocked the barrier—and—and all my mail?"

"Dobby is very sorry... but Chamber of Secrets was to open in Hogwarts! And Dobby had to save Harry Potter!" said the elf, its eyes still alternating between glancing at Harry and Lucius.

"You knew this was going to happen? How?" asked Harry, and he saw Dobby's eyes widen in fear. The elf pointed at Lucius and the diary and then, he began pulling his ears to punish himself.

"Are you trying to say that Lucius Malfoy planned all this?" whispered Harry, and Dobby stood motionless for a moment, only nodding his head infinitesimally, before he ran towards the wall and started banging his head against it.

"Don't!" said Harry, trying to pull the elf back. And Harry's loud voice seemed to have negated Dumbledore's spell, for Lucius Malfoy swiftly turned around.

"What's going on?" Lucius demanded, staring suspiciously from Harry to Dobby.

"Don't you want to know where Ginny got the diary from?" Harry asked Lucius.

The blond wizard rounded on him. "How should I care how that stupid girl got the diary?"

"Because you gave it to her," said Harry with a lot more confidence in his statement than he really had. But the stunned expression on Lucius' face told him that he was right.

"You somehow managed to drop the diary into Ginny's books when you picked a fight with Mr Weasley at Flourish and Blotts!" said Harry, remembering the only time Ginny had met Lucius before the school year began.

And he saw Lucius' white hands clench and unclench.

"You can't prove that," spat Lucius, his face confident, but Harry noticed some of the coldness disappear from his cold eyes to be replaced by slight fear.

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry, "Not now when Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find there way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley for one, and Sirius Black for another, will make sure they are traced back to you."

Lucius stood still for a moment, and Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. But instead, Lucius turned to his house elf.

"We're going, Dobby," said Lucius. The elf whimpered and went towards Lucius. The Malfoy patriarch wrenched the door open and kicked Dobby right through it. Harry could hear Dobby squealing in pain all the way down the stairs.

And his mind flooded with thoughts as he realised that he had to help Dobby. The elf was being treated worse than a slave. And Dobby was the only one who could tell them more about Malfoy's plans.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said hurriedly, forming a quick plan, "Can I give that diary back to Lucius Malfoy, please?"

"Certainly, Harry," said Dumbledore, giving the boy a knowing smile.

Harry grabbed the diary, and dashed out of Dumbledore's office. He descended the moving staircase two steps at a time, listening to Dobby's squeals coming from around the corner of the corridor.

Quickly, Harry took off one of his shoes and pulled off his sock. He stuffed the sock in the diary and ran down the corridor. He caught up with them pretty soon.

"Malf—Mister Malfoy!" he gasped, skidding to a halt, "I've got something for you."

He thrust the sock into Lucius' hands

"What the—" began Lucius, as he ripped out the sock and threw it aside. It landed right on top of Dobby's head and Harry smiled, his plan having succeeded.

But Lucius hadn't noticed the sock in the elf's hand. He was looking furiously from the ruined diary to Harry. And Harry noticed the slight fear on Lucius' face as he stared at the diary.

"You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents, one of these days, Potter," said Lucius softly. "They were meddlesome fools, too."

"Sirius isn't going to be happy when he knows you threatened me and insulted my parents," responded Harry coolly, though a part of him thought he was sounding rather like Draco, who always threatened to tattle to Lucius. 'My father will hear of this,' ran through his mind.

Lucius' grip on his wand tightened, but he said nothing. He finally turned away from Harry and ordered Dobby," Come on! We are leaving!"

But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up Harry's sock and looking at it like it was a priceless treasure.

"Master has given Dobby a sock!" said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby!"

"What's that?" spat Lucius. "What did you just say?"

"Dobby has got a sock!" the elf went on in disbelief. "Master threw the sock on Dobby— Dobby is a free elf!"

Lucius stood frozen, staring at the elf. Then he lunged at Harry, whose wand was out of his pocket and into his hand before he even realised it.

"You have cost me my servant, boy!" snarled Lucius.

But Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry Potter!" at the same time as Harry yelled the first spell that came to his mind, "Expelliarmus!"

There was a loud bang and Lucius flew to the other side of the corridor, crashing into a wall, as his wand went flying in the opposite direction, before hitting the wall and rebounding, falling at Lucius' feet.

He got up, his face livid and grabbed his wand. But Dobby raised a long, threatening finger.

"You shall go now," Dobby said fiercely, pointing at Lucius. "You shall not touch Harry Potter! You shall go now!"

And with a last incensed stare at Harry and Dobby, Lucius swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight. And Harry smiled as he realised what a huge blow had been dealt to Lucius' ego –probably the first time Malfoy had been talked down, threatened, ordered and attacked by a house elf.

"Harry Potter freed Dobby!" said the elf shrilly, gazing up at Harry. "Harry Potter set Dobby free!"

"Least I could do, Dobby," said Harry, "Especially after you tried to help me—" he paused suddenly as he remembered all the instances when Sirius and Remus had discovered the presence of elfish magic, including the charmed Bludger.

"Dobby! Did you—did you charm that Bludger?" he asked the elf, gasping in incredulity when Dobby nodded sheepishly.

"You set that Bludger on me? It could have killed me! It almost did!" exclaimed Harry.

"Dobby didn't mean for Harry Potter to get hurt! The Bludger was only meant to scare Harry Potter, not harm him, sir! Never to kill Harry Potter, sir!" cried Dobby, now beginning to whimper and twist his ears, crying out in pain.

Luckily, the corridor was empty or Harry was sure any passing student would have been terrified at the sight.

"Dobby! Stop hurting yourself!" exclaimed Harry, bending down to grab both of Dobby's hands in an effort to make him stop. "It's okay... you were only trying to help... I understand…"

"Harry Potter forgives Dobby?" asked the elf, as Harry let got of his wrists, certain he wouldn't attempt to hurt himself again.

Harry nodded.

"Harry Potter is a great wizard! Harry Potter forgives Dobby!" Dobby said in amazement.

"Yes I do. But just promise never to try and save my life again," said Harry, and suddenly, the elf's ugly brown face split into a wide, toothy smile.

"Now, will you tell me about Malfoy's plan?" asked Harry kindly, leading the elf into a classroom, deciding that Dobby would be more comfortable talking to him than when questioned by either Sirius or Dumbledore, both of whom could be pretty intimidating. And he didn't want to disturb Sirius, who was surely sitting by Acquila's bedside.

"And before you start saying anything, promise me not to hurt yourself," continued Harry, as Dobby nodded. "You're free now. You can talk about the Malfoys."

"Dobby will do as Harry Potter says," said the elf. "Dobby will not hurt himself."

"Uh—Thanks…now please tell me…from the beginning…"

"Master had planned to plant the diary in Harry Potter's belongings—" Dobby started, but the first sentence itself shocked Harry.

"I—I was the target for the diary? Not Ginny? "

"Master told Little Master Draco to drop the diary in Harry Potter's books," said Dobby, said clenching his hands as if stopping them from punching himself.

"Malfoy—D—Draco dropped the book?" gasped Harry, wondering how the boy could stoop so low. Harry knew Draco disliked him, especially for his closeness with Acquila. But planning for Tom Riddle to possess Harry through the diary was too much…even for Draco.

"But—but if he dropped it in my books then how did Ginny—Oh—yes! Ginny's books fell down…along with mine…she must have picked up the book by mistake…" muttered Harry to himself.

"Anything else, Dobby?" he asked, turning his attention back to the elf.

Dobby nodded, and continued. "A day after Christmas, Master had the diary with him again—"

"What! How did he get it back from Ginny? And how did she get it back, then?" exclaimed Harry.

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter. Dobby does not know. But Dobby tried to hide the diary…to keep Harry Potter safe," said Dobby, his hands twitching again. "Master put the diary in his vault. But Dobby took it out, Harry Potter! Dobby had to push himself down from the second floor window for that! But Dobby took out the diary! And Dobby hid it! Dobby was scared Master would send the diary back to Hogwarts again to harm Harry Potter! So Dobby hid it!"

"Where did you hide it?"

"Dobby wanted to destroy the diary! But Dobby couldn't betray his Master! So, Dobby magically hid the diary in a book…in the library in Malfoy Manor. Master never goes to that part of the library. Master does not read Ancient Runes. And Mistress had been banned from the North Wing of the Manor since the fight between Mistress and Master in July. Dobby thought diary would be safe there...No one reads that book…" Dobby trailed off, almost banging his head on the blackboard, before Harry stopped him.

"You don't know how the diary got back to Hogwarts, then?" asked Harry.

"Dobby doesn't know. Dobby is sorry..." said the elf, shaking his head.

"Thank you, Dobby," muttered Harry gratefully, deciding to tell Sirius of it all, knowing that Draco was going to face Sirius' scary anger, now.


Until a few moments ago, if Draco Malfoy had been asked to compile a list of the top three times he'd been scared, number three on the list would've been the time he'd first met Arcturus Black. The Black patriarch had had an extremely formidable air about him. And the piercing steely-eyed glare the ageing wizard had given Draco – as if he'd been peering into Draco's very soul, as if he'd been scrutinising every little inch of Draco (who had then been slated to be the next Head of the Blacks), as if even a single shortcoming he found in him would have him punished with the severest punishment possible – had little Draco feeling more fear than he'd ever known he could feel.

Second on the list would be his parents' argument the previous summer, when his father had held his wand to his mother's throat, and Draco's heart had almost burst out of his chest out of fear that his enraged father would kill his mother.

And first on the list would be Draco's eighth birthday, when he'd taken his new broomstick for a ride, only to fly too high and plummet to the ground, head-first. Draco had been certain that he would hit the ground with a sickening crunch, and die in excruciating pain. But his own accidental magic had saved him from certain death.

But presently, as he sat opposite Sirius Black, who looked as if he wanted nothing better than to reduce Draco to a pile of ashes with Fiendfyre – like he'd allegedly done to Slytherin's Basilisk – Draco felt he'd rather face ten Arcturus Blacks and a two hundred feet fall from the sky, than meet Sirius Black's menacing glare.

"Speak!" growled Black, making Draco almost jump out of his seat.

"Black," said Professor Snape. His voice was calm, but full of ill-contained fury. "I will not allow you to coerce a student of my House into—"

"Stay out of this, Snape!" growled Black. "This doesn't concern you!"

"This concerns a student of my House, Black! And you have no right to question him!" said Snape, his voice now increasing in volume too. And the two men now stood facing each other, glaring. Draco heaved a little sigh of relief at having the attention taken off him.

Draco had been bullying a first year half-blood Hufflepuff, with Crabbe and Goyle, when Sirius Black had walked towards him, his eyes blazing, and his face set into an expression of utmost rage. And he had dragged Draco by the scruff of his robes into the nearest empty classroom, before literally throwing him into a chair, and proceeding to question him about the diary. Draco had shivered at the look on Sirius' face, and had almost been about to spill the beans, before Snape had come in.

"I am the Head of the Blacks, Snape!" snapped Sirius. "And this brat is half a Black!" he added, glaring at Draco. "I have every right to question him since he's involved in the plot to harm my kids—"

"This isn't your Auror department!" sneered Snape. "This is a school—"

"My daughter is lying unconscious—"

"Unconscious?" gasped Draco, before cowering into his chair as Sirius' dark gaze fell onto him.

"Yes! Unconscious! Because of you! Because of your bloody diary!" spat Sirius.

And Draco was sure that whatever little colour was left in his pale face had disappeared.

Acquila was unconscious? Of course, Draco had noticed that Acquila hadn't come down for breakfast, and that she hadn't been there for the match. Even Daphne had noticed that Acquila wasn't there for the match and the post-match celebrations. But with most Gryffindors busy celebrating their victory, he hadn't been able to ask anyone about Acquila – and it wasn't as if Draco wanted to talk to a Gryffindor, even if it was about Acquila.

"You put the diary into Harry's books in Flourish & Blotts," thundered Sirius, bringing Draco out of his thoughts.

"I—I didn't—"

"Don't you lie! Your house-elf spilled the beans!"

"Dobby would never—" began Draco, but the vehemence on Sirius' face had him shutting up.

"Dobby admitted that your bastard of a father had that diary! He intended to slip the diary to Harry! And I know Lucius didn't slip the diary to Harry at Diagon Alley because I was observing him all the bloody time! But you—you cowardly brat! You put it into Harry's things, didn't you? Into his books that had fallen on the floor?"

"I—I didn't—" stammered Draco. "You—you can't question me—my father will hear of this—" he stuttered, before looking to Snape for help. But Sirius spoke before Snape could.

"Your father ran home with his tail between his legs! And he's going to be a dead man soon," spat the Animagus, and from the murderous rage in his eyes, Draco was worried his father wouldn't survive if Sirius got his hands on him. And he realised why his father had left Hogwarts without even meeting him – because Lucius had probably known that Sirius knew that he was behind the diary.

"My daughter was almost killed by that damn diary—" shouted Sirius.

And Draco could've sworn his heart had stopped beating for a moment! Acquila had almost been killed? Because of the diary? But Draco had never intended for that to happen! Never! The diary was just supposed to distance Potter from Acquila…so that Draco could then step in and get closer to her…

But the diary had almost had her dead? He had never wanted that! Not at all! And he felt guilt flooding in him, followed quickly by fear. What if—what if Black told Acquila that Draco had slipped the diary to Potter? She would never, ever talk to him, then! And Draco would lose the only real friend he'd ever had…would lose the girl who was going to be his future wife.

"—and I'm going to kill Lucius!" continued Sirius, "And if you don't tell me all that you know about the diary, I swear I'll have you sent to fucking Azkaban! You can spend your days with your Aunt Bella—"

"BLACK! Mind your language! And you cannot threaten my student!" said Snape furiously, but Draco barely heard him as he began to feel sick at even the thought of Acquila knowing what he had done. He would lose her…lose her forever.

"Stay out of this, Snape—" snapped Sirius, but Snape turned to Draco.

"In spite of the witless company you keep," he said, referring to Crabbe and Goyle, "I am sure you know that a minor cannot be sent to Azkaban. Even by the great Lord Black!" he glared at Sirius. "And you do not need to answer his questions, Draco. A minor cannot be questioned in the absence of his parents –especially by a trainee Auror, who isn't even working officially—"

But Draco ignored Snape. He would admit the truth to Sirius…tell him that the diary was never meant to hurt Acquila…plead with him to keep Draco's involvement a secret from Acquila.

"I didn't know it would hurt Acquila," said Draco earnestly. "I swear I didn't! I never wanted her to get hurt!"

"What did you want the diary to do, then? What did your bloody father tell you?" demanded Sirius.

"He—he said the diary would take Potter away from Acquila—it—it would create a rift between them…" stammered Draco.

"Continue," growled Sirius.

"In Diagon Alley, I slipped the diary into Potter's books…when Father was arguing with you and Weasley's father… But I swear I didn't mean to hurt Acquila! Believe me!" said Draco desperately. "I never wanted to hurt her! She's my best friend! My cousin! I love her—"

"Don't you bloody talk of love! You're just like your father! You wouldn't have minded Harry getting killed, to create a rift between them, would you?" snarled Sirius. "You selfish—"

"No!" exclaimed Draco desperately. "Not killed! I didn't know the diary was dangerous! Really! I don't like Potter…but—but I never wanted him dead—"

"What happened next?" interrupted Sirius.

"I thought the diary had some powers. After I slipped the diary to Potter, I thought it would weaken him…take him away from Acquila. But it seemed to give him powers! Like Parseltongue! Potter's a half-blood! How'd he have been able to speak to the snake at the Duelling Club? Only purebloods can be Parselmouths! And Potter's mother was a filthy Mudblood—"

"DON'T YOU SPEAK A WORD ABOUT LILY—" began Sirius furiously, as Snape bristled at the 'Mudblood' – not that Draco noticed Snape, for his eyes were locked on Sirius' wand; and the blond hastily backtracked.

"I'm sorry! Sorry!" he said immediately, wishing he could disappear into his chair than face Sirius' wrath.

"One more word about your bigoted beliefs and I'll hex you so bad that you won't even be able to—"

"I'm sorry! Please! I'm sorry!" said Draco, his heartbeats increasing in pace, as he shielded his face from Sirius with his hands.

"Continue," repeated Sirius, glaring at Draco.

"I thought the diary was working for Potter instead of against him…he argued with Myrtle and she got petrified. Creevey irritated him at practice, and he got petrified, too. I was scared I'd be next…because Potter hates me! But then, you brought in the Aurors, and I was scared…I thought you'd find out that I put the diary into Potter's books—"

"What happened during the Christmas vacations?" Sirius cut him off sternly.

"I—I went to the library in my Manor…the day before I came back to Hogwarts," said Draco, his voice trembling a little. "I'd promised to get a book for Acquila…but—but when I went to the library, I saw a book there—an ancient tome which had been lying in the library for years…I doubt anyone's even read it in recent times. And it—it was strange…the book—it—it attracted me to it…as if the book was—was pulling me towards it… I knew I had to have the book—it—it was—I can't even explain it! But I took the book—it was as if I was under a spell…my hand reached out towards the book on its own…" he trailed off, before he spoke up again.

"I took the book to my room—to—to open it…but the book was calling out to me…telling me to read it. But Mother called me for dinner, and I put the book in my trunk…I thought I'd read it later. When I came back to Hogwarts, I opened my trunk…and saw the book. I opened it, and the diary fell out of it! I didn't even know the diary was in it! I swear! I wouldn't ever have taken the book if I knew it had the diary in it…" Draco said pleadingly, wanting Sirius to know he wasn't lying.

And to his immense relief, Sirius nodded slightly, before telling him to continue.

"The diary was really strange…scary! I felt like it was telling me to open it…to—I don't know what was even happening! But I didn't open it! I knew that the Chamber opening was somehow linked to it—and I didn't want to get into trouble… And I couldn't tell Father that I had the diary…I don't know what he'd have done…I didn't want to anger him! And I didn't even know how it reached the Manor in the first place! I was scared…I was really scared…and I thought of getting rid of it. I tried to burn it…but it wouldn't get burnt at all! I even threw it in the Great Lake, but it continued to float…it didn't even sink, even though I tied a heavy stone to it… And I knew it was magical…Dark Magic probably…and because I couldn't destroy it, I thought I'd slip it into some other student's books… But then, I didn't want to get into any trouble! I didn't want to risk giving it to any other student…because—" Draco faltered.

"Because not many people are fond of you, and you were worried you might end up getting petrified like Creevey…especially if the diary was with someone who disliked you," snorted Sirius, and Draco nodded.

"So I put it into the library," said Draco.

"Because you thought nobody would notice it in the library…among thousands of books," drawled Snape, and Draco nodded again. But Sirius snorted in derision, before he yelled at Draco.

"You are such an idiot!" he snapped. "Are you mad? The library? You found the diary in your library, and you go and put into another library? Especially when you knew the diary was dangerous? Couldn't you come up with an original hiding place? You Slytherin numbskull! At least have some sense of originality! Look at what it led to!"

"I was scared!" said Draco pleadingly, as Snape bristled at the insult to his school House. "I didn't want—"

"Did Narcissa know of this? Of Lucius' plan?" Sirius cut Draco off, and the younger boy was a little bewildered on seeing the momentary vulnerability in Sirius' eyes. And he knew that Sirius had indeed grown to trust his mother.

"She didn't know," replied Draco honestly. "Father hardly talks to her…and I didn't tell her. Father made me swear not to tell Mother."

Sirius stared at Draco, his gaze seeming piercing, as if he was delving into Draco's very mind to verify whether he was truthful.

"Okay," said Sirius curtly, before he spun around to walk out of the room.

"WAIT!" exclaimed Draco, as he shot out of his chair and took a couple of hasty steps towards Sirius.

"Don't tell Acquila about—about what I did…please. Please, don't…She's my friend—my best friend…and she'll never forgive me. I promise I'll do what you say—I'll never repeat what I did—but—but don't tell her…please, Si—Lord Black—" said Draco beseechingly.

Sirius threw him a long, searching look. And then, he walked away without an answer, leaving a cold Snape and a broken Draco in his wake.


Irene Summerby hummed a melody under her breath as she walked on the Hogwarts ground towards the Castle, having taken half the day off to visit Sirius' daughter and godson.

She'd taken quite a liking to Harry Potter and Acquila Black.

Acquila was almost like a feminine, miniature Sirius; not only in her looks, but also in personality, especially in the slight arrogance that she possessed. She seemed more a Slytherin than a Gryffindor at times, and Irene knew she'd get along very well with her if they ever grew closer.

But she liked Harry for completely different reasons. When she'd first met him during the Flying Car incident, she'd expected him to be a spoilt, arrogant brat. But she'd been surprised to see a shy, down-to-earth boy instead. Her further meetings with Harry had only deepened her fondness for him. But it was the previous night that she'd realised that foremost among Harry's qualities were courage and selflessness. Of course, having been half a Nott, Irene hadn't cared much for either of the traits. But when she'd joined the Auror Force, she'd realised the magnitude of bravery, of being selfless enough to put the lives of unknown strangers above your own, of fighting with no fear of death. And it had taken Irene the better part of her three year training period to inculcate those traits in herself. But Harry, a mere pre-teen, had shown such courage in the Chamber, that Irene's fondness for the boy had begun turning into respect. And Irene Summerby's respect wasn't easily earned, mind you. Mad Eye Moody, Minerva McGonagall and recently, Sirius Black, were the only people Irene had a healthy respect for.

Ah! Sirius Black! She smiled slightly as she thought of the Head of Blacks.

She couldn't deny she'd had a crush on him in the early days of his training. No matter how tomboyish Irene had been in her childhood, she was still a woman. And it was impossible for any straight female to not be captivated by the handsome hunk that Sirius Black was. His black hair fell onto his shoulder with a natural elegance – except for when he mussed it up by running a hand through it when he was worried or annoyed. And that one day when he'd turned up late for training, she'd seen him walking in, running his right hand through his hair as Mad Eye yelled at him, making his black locks slightly ruffled, a little less elegant, but that only made him look even more attractive. And Irene had often wondered whether that's how Sirius Black looked when he woke up in the mornings – with messy hair and hastily-clad robes, the rather adorable pout on his lips, and his sleepy eyes—Ah yes! Sirius Black's eyes. They were another matter altogether. If Irene was given a choice between staring at Sirius Black's now-well-built torso and his eyes, she'd have chosen to look into his eyes, even though the thought of running her eyes over his torso was a lot more appealing to her currently romance-deprived self. But Black's eyes were really captivating…and they somehow seemed to convey a lot more emotions than he conveyed with either his words or his actions.

When he'd newly begun Auror training, Sirius' grey eyes had been a little dull, a little morose. And a chat with Nymphadora Tonks had told Irene that Sirius was still mourning the loss of his deceased wife, of the years he spent without his daughter and godson. And frankly, the gloomy expression on Sirius' face, and the air of introversion that he seemed to hold, had put Irene off him. And her crush on him had changed to mere curiosity.

But it was on the day of the Flying Car incident that Sirius seemed to have come into his own. And his eyes had suddenly brightened up, lit with a ferocious determination, with a real sense of purpose. And that had made him seem all the more intriguing to Irene. It was after that that Irene had become friends with Sirius.

Of course, she didn't fancy him anymore, though she did like the occasional butterflies that formed in stomach on the rare occasions when Sirius' inner flirty nature came to the fore. She liked duelling with him, and liked the friendly, witty banter that generally accompanied their duels.

She liked dancing wildly with him, Kingsley and Tonks, at Muggle clubs, when he seemed a completely different person – nothing like the intimidating, almost-regal-looking Lord Black or the determined trainee Auror or the brooding widower; but a man who'd just come out to enjoy, without the burden of his many regrets and losses…the wizard who danced to Muggle songs with a lot more grace than any of the Muggles on the dance floor. She also liked his lop-sided smirk coupled with the teasing wink, both of which made him seem rather mischievous and sly, and occasionally made her heart forget the pace it was supposed to beat on.

And she liked the one glimpse she'd had of Sirius' naked, quite-chiselled torso when he'd taken off his sweaty robes after a strenuous duel. She hadn't caught the glimpse intentionally, mind you! It had been inadvertent! She didn't use her Slytherin cunning for such silly purposes!
But oh, come on! Whom was she kidding? She was a twenty four year-old, single witch, who hadn't got laid since she broke up with her idiot of an ex-boyfriend around a year ago. She deserved to have a little intentional peek at his chest, and fantasise about touching him—Shit! What was that? No! Irene Summerby was a proud former-Slytherin! And Slytherins certainly didn't fantasise about cocky former-Gryffindors, no matter how drop-dead-handsome they were! Especially when the stupid Gryffindors in question hooked up with an obviously-horny blonde Muggle at the club! And accompanied her to her house for the said hooking-up!

'You're jealous!' said a voice in her mind.

"I'm not!" she shot back. Jealousy wasn't a trait belonging to Irene Summerby at all! Not at all! She was just a little—umm—Oh shit! Coming right towards her was the man in question!

"Hey, Sirius," said Irene to the dark-haired wizard, who was walking towards her—uh! Running rather, since that fast a pace probably didn't fall under the meaning of 'walking'.

"Not now, Summerby," snapped Sirius as he walked past her without even a smile.

Summerby? Summerby? After finally beginning to call her 'Irene', he was back to Summerby?

Irene frowned, before turning around and following him, having to sprint a little to catch up with his quick pace.

"What's up with you?" she asked, walking beside him now.

"I've got a man to kill, Irene. I'll see you later," he snapped, as he finally reached the boundaries of the Castle grounds.

"WHAT! A man to kill? What's wrong with you—" she began to exclaim, only for Sirius to shut her up with a single look.

Sweet Salazar! Sirius was angry…uh, scratch that! Sirius was furious and enraged and—damn! No word seemed to even do justice to the wrathful expression on his face and the blazing intensity in his eyes, which made her certain that he would probably kill whosoever he was thinking of killing. And though the dark, fiery look on his face made him seem the typical bad boy – and Irene Summerby did like bad boys – she had enough sense to put aside her silly thoughts and concentrate on trying to stop Sirius from committing murder.

"Go back to the Castle," he said. "I'll be back after I'm done with killing him!"

"No! Urgh! Wait!" she exclaimed, cursing her father's genes for her relatively short legs. She couldn't even keep pace with Sirius' long strides! And he was almost at the end of the anti-disapparition wards!

"Are you mad, Sirius? What the fuck's wrong with you? And whom are you going to kill?" she demanded, as he stepped beyond the wards.

"Lucius Malfoy!" he spat, beginning to disapparate from the spot.

"Fuck!" she swore, before lunging at him and grabbing hold of his arm, liking the feel of his slightly muscular bicep under her fingers. But well, Sirius' biceps could be fawned over some other time. Currently, she couldn't let him commit murder and get put in Azkaban again. She couldn't do that to his kids, even if she'd have loved watching him kill Malfoy.

And the very next moment, she felt herself being squeezed into a tube as she vanished from the spot.

"What the hell!" growled Sirius as he felt Irene's fingers tighten on his arm as his feet touched the ground in front of Malfoy Manor. She stumbled, almost pulling him down with her. But he somehow steadied them. "Are you an idiot, Irene? You'd have been splinched!"

"Look who's talking!" she retorted. "You're an idiot! Killing Malfoy? You'll end up in Azk—"

But uttering Malfoy's name seemed to have been a mistake, because Sirius wrenched her fingers off his arm, and strode towards Malfoy Manor.

"Wait!" yelled Irene, running after him, wondering how Sirius had even been able to enter the wards of the Manor. She'd never been to Malfoy Manor, but she'd heard that it was an extremely well-secured place.

But as she saw a smiling, blonde-haired woman walking towards them, she realised why they had been able to pass the wards; because Narcissa Malfoy had probably altered the wards to let her cousin in. But what surprised Irene that Narcissa didn't have her usual dung-under-her-nose expression on her face. Instead, she was smiling at Sirius. Yeah. Narcissa Malfoy. Smiling. Imagine that!

But Narcissa's smile fell abruptly. She had probably seen the rage on her cousin's face.

"What's wrong, Sirius—" began the blonde witch.

"I want you to stay out of this, Narcissa!" snapped Sirius.

"But, Siri—"

Sirius didn't wait for his cousin's questions as he strode into the Manor, where Lucius sat on a chair with his back towards them. And to Irene's immense amusement, Sirius dragged an unsuspecting Lucius off the chair by the back of his robes and threw him into the wall. Yeah, actually threw him into the wall so hard that Irene wondered whether the wall would crack on being hit by Lucius' weight.

"Sirius!" exclaimed Narcissa, making to go towards her husband.

"How dare you, Black!" thundered Lucius as he made to lift himself off the floor; but Sirius reached him in two long strides. He grabbed Lucius by the scruff of his robes and pulled him into a standing position with his back to the wall. And in one quick motion, Sirius' wand was at Malfoy's throat, red and black sparks coming out of it, and singeing his pale skin.

"How dare you, Malfoy?" spat Sirius, and the fury and vehemance in his tone actually made Irene a little scared of him. "How dare you try to kill my godson! My daughter!"

"You must have made a mistake, Siri! Let go of him!" said Narcissa desperately, making to pry her cousin's wand off her husband.

"I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT OF THIS, CISSY!" thundered Sirius, pushing his wand further into Malfoy's throat, which was now reddening with the heat of the sparks.

And to Irene's surprise, Narcissa took a couple of steps backwards, away from her husband and cousin; though her cold eyes were now brimming with tears.

"What did you do, Lucius?" she asked her husband in a shocked whisper.

"He tried to kill Harry and Acquila! By slipping him a diary which had Voldemort's memory in it!" snarled Sirius, as Narcissa gasped audibly. "And that memory created another Basilisk which bloody bit Harry! Give me one reason not to kill you, you bastard! Give me one fucking reason!" roared Sirius as he pulled Lucius forward by his robes, and pushed him back into the wall forcefully, and Irene heard the loud 'smack' of Lucius' head hitting the wall. A moment later, she could see the blood trickling down the wall from the back of his blond head.

Merlin! Voldemort's memory in that diary! Irene had never heard of such magic!

"You blood traitor! How dare you even—" began Lucius.

"One more word and I'll fucking kill you!" snarled Sirius, his wand at Lucius' throat again; and the Malfoy patriarch fell abruptly silent, his eyes fixed on the wand.

"Siri, please!" said Narcissa, her voice pleading as she made to walk towards her cousin.

"Don't, Cissy!" said Sirius gruffly, and Narcissa stopped in her tracks. "I let him go years ago for you! I would've killed him! But I let him go because I didn't want you to lose the man you married! And look at what did that cost me! He killed Athena's parents! He killed Marlene! I loved her like I love Andy! He tortured Marlene and killed her! And he'd have killed both my kids tonight!"

"Please, Siri—" Narcissa persisted, and Irene saw a teardrop fall down her eye. Holy shit! If Narcissa Malfoy was crying, Sirius was probably really going to kill Lucius!

"No, Cissy! Not this time! And do you know what he fucking did? He used your little brat for his plans! He made Draco plant the diary into Harry's books!" barked Sirius, and Narcissa gasped again.

"Lucius! You wouldn't!" she whispered.

"He did!" snarled Sirius. "And I've had enough of you bringing danger to my family, Malfoy!" he growled at Lucius, whose cold eyes suddenly seemed fearful. "You still are a fucking Death Eater! And I'm going to really kill you this time around!"

"You—you can't kill me! Please, Black—" sputtered Lucius. And Irene was surprised as Sirius suddenly let go of Lucius, and the blond wizard sunk to the floor.

But what shocked Irene were the next words that came out of Sirius' mouth, which had Narcissa screaming an ear-splitting yell.

"AVADA KE—"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Irene yelled, only to hear another voice join in with hers, as Sirius' wand went flying out of his hand from the force of the two combined Disarming Spells.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Padfoot?" shouted Remus, as he strode towards Sirius. Irene stared at Remus. Where had he even come from? How had the wards even let him in? Had Narcissa surreptitiously altered the wards to let him in? Perhaps, she knew the only man to stop Sirius from killing her husband was Remus.

"Who the fuck told you to interfere, Remus?" growled Sirius, his irate eyes now falling on his friend. "And you, Summerby? Stay out of my business!"

"You should thank me for saving you a life sentence in Azkaban, Sirius," said Irene, snorting as Sirius glared at her, as well.

As Lucius made to move, Irene and Remus trained their wands on him.

"Siri…please," said Narcissa, her entire frame trembling as she sunk to the floor beside her shaken husband, pulling him into her arms.

"Spill the beans, Malfoy," growled Sirius, glaring at Lucius, as he picked up his wand from the floor and trained it at the blond again.

"You can't force me, Black—" began Lucius.

"Tell us the truth, Malfoy, because if you don't, I'll join Sirius in killing you off right now," said Remus. "I stopped Sirius from killing you because I didn't want my friend to turn into a murderer for a scumbag like you. But if you don't speak, I swear I'll kill you with my very hands. You can't harm my kids and get away with it!"

Irene gaped at Remus. From what she knew of the man, she'd thought him to be an extremely calm, soft-spoken wizard. But his fury seemed almost-wild now…and his eyes…they seemed rather animalistic…and his words? They didn't seem like they'd come from the polite and gentlemanly Remus Lupin at all!

"Tell them, Lucius," said Narcissa, letting go of her husband and staring at him with what looked like contempt. "I cannot believe you dragged Draco into your plans."

"Cissy, I—"

"Tell them the truth, Lucius," Narcissa cut her husband off; and the couple shared a long, meaningful look with the other, making Irene feel as if she was intruding on a very private moment between them, even though they were merely looking at the other. Sweet Salazar! To think that the Malfoys really loved each other! Eurgh!

Minutes later, they were all sitting in the Malfoy's parlour, with three wands still trained at Lucius.

"The Dark Lord gave me the diary in 1979. I was supposed to keep it safe. I didn't know that it had the Dark Lord's memory in it. I swear I didn't know," said Lucius.

"If I find out that you're lying—"

"I'm not lying, Black! All I knew that the diary would open the Chamber of Secrets. I wanted to get rid of Potter and your daughter—"

"And you thought you'd get your greasy hands on the Black fortune! You knew the kids dying would probably kill me, too!" snapped Sirius furiously.

"Yes," admitted Lucius, as he told them all he knew about the diary.

"How did Borgin get the diary? I'm sure you know!" said Sirius, wondering how the diary had reached Borgin and Burkes from the Vanishing Cabinet.

"I don't know, Black. He pushed me out before I could look into his mind…and then, I Obliviated his memories…so I doubt—"

"I'm going to see you in Azkaban, Malfoy," spat Sirius. "I won't kill you, but you're going to Azkaban. You possessed a Dark object, you planted the object in the belongings of a minor. A ghost and a student were petrified because of you…you led to the opening of the Chamber, you led to the creation of another Basilisk…and you intended to get my kids killed! A life term in Azkaban, Malfoy! You're going to rot in Azkaban!"

"No, Black…I'll do anything…" said Lucius, making Irene snort at his cowardice. She always knew Malfoy was an uncourageous bastard, but seeing him pleading with his arch-enemy was pathetic, even for Malfoy.

"Sirius," said Narcissa quietly. "What if Lucius agrees to support the House of Black? I know you're looking for allies—"

"Do you think I trust your bastard of a husband?" snorted Sirius.

"Then trust me, Siri," said Narcissa.

"How do I even trust you? Your husband went behind your back and planned the entire thing, using your son…and you didn't even have an inkling of it," said Sirius.

"I'll support you, Black," said Lucius, as Narcissa fell silent. "I won't even attempt to harm your kids again, if you let me go…I'll support you politically, as well, if the need ever arises—"

"I don't give a damn about politics, Malfoy," spat Sirius. "I'm not you!"

"I'll do anything, Black…please. I know I've erred—"

"Spare me the emotional theatrics, Malfoy! I've heard this crap from you earlier, as well," said Sirius.

"Listen to me, Sirius," said Narcissa. "Lucius will support you…he'll help you gain allies, as well. I know you're looking to build an alliance…and the Malfoys have traditionally been allied with the Crabbes, the Goyles, the Rosiers—"

"They were allies of the Blacks, too, Narcissa—" began Sirius, though from his tone, Irene knew he was unconvinced about what he was saying.

"But they won't ally with you, Sirius," said Narcissa shrewdly. "They consider you a blood traitor. You may get the Greengrasses, the Flints to support you…but none of the older, ancient Houses—"

"Darker Houses, you mean?" snorted Sirius.

"I'll even have Draco swear fealty to you—"

"Narcissa!" roared Lucius. "You can't have my heir swear fealty to Black—"

"You keep out of this, Lucius!" said Narcissa sternly, surprising Irene. Since when had Narcissa Malfoy grown enough guts to interrupt and talk down her husband? From whatever Irene knew of her, Narcissa was the typical docile, obedient pureblood wife. Having her son dragged into this diary business had probably given her some courage to stand up to her husband.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me, Narcissa!" snarled Lucius.

"Don't you yell at my cousin, Lucius! One more word from you and I'll have Irene cart you off to Azkaban! She's an Auror!" said Sirius, making Irene sit up a little straighter.

"Yes, Malfoy," she said, and Malfoy's eyes widened as if he'd just noticed Irene. He probably had just noticed her. If you had Sirius Black sending Killing Curses at you, you certainly wouldn't care to notice the people around you.

"Bellona Nott's daughter, aren't you?" he asked her shrewdly.

"What if I am?" said Irene. "I can drag your ass to Azkaban right now, Malfoy. I can have you jailed on four counts, including attempted murder of the Boy Who Lived. And then, you can watch your family name getting dragged into mud. You managed to keep yourself out of Azkaban last time, but this time, I can cart you off to Azkaban right now. I've heard your confession. Three drops of Veritaserum and you'll be spilling all your secrets, including the ones you strived so hard to conceal in 1981 – like leading the attacks on the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts—"

"What do you want, Black?" said Lucius, seeming as if he'd given up the fight.

"To see you in Azkaban," said Sirius. "Or better yet, to kill you off right now! I don't trust you one bit, Malfoy!"

"Sirius," said Remus slowly – the first time he'd spoken since Lucius began confessing. "I think you should take up Malfoy's offer. Keep the emotions away, Sirius…think like a Black…"

And Irene saw a long glance being exchanged between the two friends, until Sirius finally nodded.

"Firstly, you'll send in your resignation from the Hogwarts Board of Governors," said Remus to Lucius.

"What—" began Lucius.

"Yes, he will," said Narcissa firmly. "And Lucius is on the Black family seat on the Board, anyway," she added. "After Aunt Walburga resigned, Grandfather Pollux held it, before he made way for Lucius. The seat belongs to the Blacks anyway, Sirius. It is rightfully yours."

"You'll give my House and me whatever support we need, either politically or in the Wizengamot, for I know you can very well influence a Wizengamot decision. You'll convince your allies to support me, too," said Sirius.

"Okay," said Lucius gruffly.

"You'll never harm my children again, either directly or indirectly like with the diary," said Sirius.

"Okay," spat out Lucius.

"And you will surrender all the Dark objects you have to Irene," put in Remus. "She won't let your name crop up if you voluntarily surrender all the Dark stuff you have."

"Fine," snapped Lucius, though Irene saw his hand curling into a fist.

"And you'll keep your son away from my daughter—" began Sirius.

"No, Sirius!" said Narcissa. "Don't ask me for that. Draco really cares for Acquila…he loves her…he would never have put in the diary if he knew it would hurt Acquila. I know my son well…he would not ever want to harm Acquila—"

"Narcissa is right," said Remus softly. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Sirius. One mistake shouldn't end a friendship."

And from the look Remus gave Sirius, Irene wondered whether the two friends had had a severe disagreement in their past – one which had put their friendship to test.

"Okay," said Sirius through gritted teeth. "You're in my debt, Malfoy, remember that. One wrong move from you and you'll see yourself rotting in the same cell I lived in for a decade. Or better yet, you'll be rotting in hell when I kill you. And don't you consider me incapable of murder. I've killed Death Eaters during the war. And you'd have been lying in a coffin now if Remus and Irene hadn't intervened."

Lucius muttered something that sounded a lot like 'sod off', but a glare from Narcissa shut him up. And Irene finally got to see Sirius' lop-sided smirk as he smirked at his cousin, probably enjoying Narcissa bossing over her coward of a husband.

"I hope you keep your word, Cissy. If it wasn't for you, I swear I'd have strangled your husband to death," said Sirius gruffly.

"I won't let you down, Sirius," said Narcissa, standing up and bending down to kiss Sirius' cheek. And Irene heard a soft 'thank you' from her.

"Come on," said Sirius, and the three of them stood up, walking towards the door.

"Lupin? Summerby?" said Narcissa quietly.

"Thank you," she replied a little condescendingly at their questioning looks, and they both nodded.

"Malfoy," said Irene suddenly, turning around to face the disgruntled blond.

"What, Summerby?" spat Lucius.

"You owe me a life debt," she replied, smirking. "And Remus, too. Don't you forget it," she added, before walking away, a smug grin on her face.

"Thank you, Irene," said Sirius as they walked beyond the wards of the Manor. "But do me a favour both of you…I don't want the kids to know of whatever happened in there, as yet. So don't tell them," he said, before suddenly disapparating with a crack.

"What happened to him?" asked Irene.

"He almost killed someone, Irene," said Remus quietly. "I know he hates Malfoy. But killing someone is a big deal…and he used the Killing Curse…which killed James, Lily and Athena…he'll just take some time to get over it… And he'll be worried about telling the kids that he almost killed Malfoy… they know he's killed people during his Auror missions. But that was in duels… and Malfoy… he was unarmed… He just needs some time."

"Okay," said Irene quietly. Merlin! Sirius seemed even more intriguing now.

"What was that about the memory in the diary?" she asked Remus suddenly, "I've never heard of anything like it…"

Remus seemed mighty uncomfortable at that.

"Err—look, you'll have to ask Sirius about it…" he said finally.

"Okay," said Irene reluctantly, before they apparated back to Hogwarts to see the kids.


"That—that's—Merlin! That's just—what do we do now, Dumbledore? A part of his soul! That's just—I don't even have a word for it!" exclaimed Sirius, his expression a mix of shock, disgust and horror, as he sat in Dumbledore's office that night. Even Phineas Nigellus was uncharacteristically quiet for a change as Dumbledore told them of what he thought Tom Riddle's diary was.

"Are you sure, Albus?" asked Remus, his voice calm, but his eyes were wide with disbelief.

"I am certain of it, Remus," said Dumbledore gravely. "And if I'm not wrong, Voldemort created the Horcrux when he was just a teenager… in his seventh year."

"But—but how—how can you cut off a part of your soul? That's—that's too dark even for Voldemort—" said Sirius.

"By committing murder," said Dumbledore, "By killing someone. Killing rips the soul apart."

What followed was a series of swear words from Sirius that would probably have made even Mundungus Fletcher blush. And the portraits on the walls, including a disgusted Phineas, broke out in uproar at Sirius' un-gentlemanly language.

As Remus cleared his throat, Sirius finally ceased his expletive-filled rant and exclaimed: "Murder? He's killed hundreds of people! There must be dozens of Horcruxes lying around, then! He'll never die at this rate!"

"Certainly not dozens," put in Dumbledore. "Each time you create a Horcrux, your soul would become unstable, and mar you physically, as well."

"Like his red eyes?" asked Remus. "From what Harry said, the diary-Riddle had black eyes…but the Voldemort we saw in the seventies, the one who possessed Ginny…he had red eyes."

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Each Horcrux tethers the maker's soul to the earth, making it possible for him to survive even when his body is destroyed – like Voldemort survived in 1981. But immortality comes at a price…and for Voldemort, that price was the alteration of his physical features, the progressive destruction of the humanity within him. The creation of each Horcrux would lessen your humanity, and goad you create further Horcruxes – it's like a downward spiral, until you reach the end, at which point you cannot make any more Horcruxes. And this is why I am certain that you cannot make Horcruxes beyond a limit—"

"What's the limit?" asked Sirius quickly. "Ten? Twenty?"

"That I cannot say," replied Dumbledore, "But I am sure there is a limit—"

"But—shit! How had I never heard of this, yet? I'm a Black for Godric's sake!" said Sirius, trying but failing to recollect ever having heard the word before.

"Because you never were interested in the Dark Arts, boy," put in Phineas snidely.

"You mean—you—you knew what a Horcrux was?" asked Sirius to his ancestor.

"Yes," said Phineas. "I had read about it. Remember Herpo the Foul?"

"Yes," said Remus, as Sirius nodded, too. "The wizard who first created a Basilisk."

"He was the first one to create a Horcrux, too," said Phineas, "And probably the only one, apart from the Dark Lord, to do so. But the Wizengamot of the ancient years banned dissemination of information on Horcruxes due to their 'terrifying and dangerous nature' as they put it," he added, snorting.

"Even books like 'Magick Moste Evile' merely skim the subject," put in Dumbledore. "Creating a Horcrux doesn't merely include murder, but a ghastly, horrifying ritual; which is why barely anyone in the wizarding world knows of Horcruxes. I doubt even people like Dolohov or Bellatrix Lestrange would know of Horcruxes."

"So," began Remus after a long minute of silence, "This is why Voldemort's alive…because the part of his soul in the diary –or in any other Horcruxes that exist –kept him alive."

"Yes," said Dumbledore.

"But—but isn't it possible that Voldemort created the diary Horcrux only to reawaken the Basilisk in the Chamber?" asked Remus, his tone hopeful. "There may not be any more—"

"There are," said Sirius darkly. "I'm sure there are. If he created the diary at the age of seventeen, you think he wouldn't create any more in the next five decades of his existence? This is Voldemort we're talking about, Remmy!"

"How do we even go about finding and destroying them?" sighed Remus.

"The destruction part is rather easy," said Dumbledore.

"Fiendfyre?" asked Sirius, knowing it could destroy even the darkest of magical objects.

"Basilisk Venom," said Remus at the same time, and Dumbledore nodded at both of them.

"And as far as the finding part is concerned, we will need to begin by looking into Voldemort's past," the Headmaster added. "And for that, I need you to keep this a secret from Harry."

"WHAT!" exclaimed Sirius. "No! No way! I'm already hiding a lot from him! Not this! And this concerns him, Dumbledore! If the prophecy's true, Harry will be the one to kill him in the end! And to kill him, we need to destroy all his Horcruxes—"

"No," said Remus softly. "We can't tell him."

"Come on, Moony—"

"He can sense Voldemort's thoughts, Padfoot! He could see Voldemort's memory of Prongs! Wouldn't that work the opposite way, too? Wouldn't Voldemort be able to sense his thoughts, as well?" said Remus.

"But—"

"Remus is absolutely right, Sirius," put in Dumbledore. "We cannot have Voldemort knowing that we have come across his secret – a secret so well-kept that I doubt even the most loyal of his followers knew of it. If he knows that we are looking for Horcruxes, he will surely impede our investigations. The seventeen year-old Tom Riddle in the diary petrified Myrtle just because she would have given you information on the Chamber. Wouldn't Voldemort, who is far wiser and shrewder than he was at seventeen, do the same? He will kill off whoever can help us with the possible Horcruxes. And with someone in the Ministry helping him, he will find it even easier to snuff out the lives of the people who can give us information."

"I'm going to teach him Occlumency!" said Sirius. "Harry will be able to block his thoughts from Voldemort!"

"I doubt Occlumency will work in this case, Sirius," said Dumbledore. "The link between Harry and Voldemort is far deeper than we can fathom."

"And we don't want to burden Harry with this, Sirius. Not now," said Remus quietly. "He's battled Voldemort, a part of Voldemort's soul and a Basilisk! He deserves some peace and quiet…some fun…a chance to be a kid…live the childhood the Dursleys never let him live…" he trailed off, knowing exactly which buttons to push to convince Sirius.

"You're using emotional blackmail—" Sirius began to protest, but Phineas' snide voice interrupted him.

"You are not telling him, boy," said the man in the portrait.

"Don't you tell me what to—" began Sirius indignantly, but Phineas continued speaking.

"You know how Potter is, Sirius. He wears his emotions on his sleeves! You tell him of the Horcruxes and he will keep thinking of it all day! And if the link between the Dark Lord and him is as deep as Dumbledore thinks it is, the intensity of his thoughts will probably alert the Dark—"

"Stop calling him 'Dark Lord' for Merlin's sake!" growled Sirius, the portrait seeming a good target for his fury and irritation.

"Don't you spew your frustration on me, boy!" said Phineas calmly, but with enough force in his voice to keep Sirius quiet. "If the incidents of last night weren't proof enough, you ought to know that Potter is a selfless boy! You tell him of the Horcruxes and he'll be impatient to help you look for them. He knows that the Dark Lord will look to use the people close to him, like he possessed the Weasley girl. And Potter wouldn't want any of his family and friends come to harm! He will want to participate in the search for the Horcruxes to finish the Dark Lord once and for all. He won't sit back and let you risk your lives. And believe me, boy, Dark Magic is far, far deeper and dangerous than a twerp like you can ever even imagine. The Horcruxes will be protected by spells you can't dream of even in your most terrifying nightmares. You don't want Potter beginning to look into this Horcrux business and lose not only his own life, but Acquila's as well."

Sirius glared at Phineas, their faces almost-similar masks of self-conviction, until Sirius finally turned his gaze to Dumbledore and spoke.

"I'll think of it," he said. "I'll talk to Andy and Ted…I want their opinion on this—"

"You cannot tell of the existence of the Horcruxes to anyone, Sirius," said the Headmaster. "Not even Andromeda. And especially not Severus, notwithstanding your recent truce with him—"

Sirius snorted, and Remus knew he was probably about to retort with how he would never have shared news of the Horcruxes with Snape, followed by another disagreement with Dumbledore on telling Andromeda and Ted. So Remus cut in swiftly.

"We'll talk of this later, Sirius," he said. "We should think of the Horcruxes now. Like the powers they have—"

"Damn! The powers!" muttered Sirius. "Can all Horcruxes possess people?" he asked the Headmaster. "The Riddle in the diary possessed Ginny; he could probably speak Parseltongue through her to open the Chamber—"

"Could cast spells to negate all the wards you'd cast on the Chamber entrance—" put in Remus, remembering that after the Auror mission, Dumbledore had blocked the entrance with magical spells. But Riddle being a Parselmouth, and the supposed Heir of Slytherin, he had probably been able to override the spells.

"He could make Ginny steal eggs, get a toad, cast Dark spells on the egg to create the Basilisk," put in Sirius, knowing that for a Basilisk to hatch out of a chicken's eggs, some Dark spells would surely have to be cast. "It could attract Draco towards it—"

"And he could suck on Ginny's soul, gaining a corporeal form and almost killing her," said Remus.

"Merlin! We'll have many Voldemorts running around at this rate! Like there were two last night!" said Sirius.

"Riddle wouldn't have come completely into existence till Voldemort had possessed Ginny," said Dumbledore. "He would have kept Ginny alive until Voldemort was possessing her. But once he fled, Riddle would certainly have sucked on the remainder of her soul and killed her—"

"We know that!" snapped Sirius. "But if each Horcrux can suck on a soul, there'll be more than one Voldemorts alive!"

"I believe," said Dumbledore, "that each Horcrux can function differently. The diary could manipulate Ginny because she shared her thoughts with him, wrote them in the diary. He fed on her deepest secrets, her fears. But if Voldemort's soul is stored in an inanimate object with which someone can't interact, I doubt it would suck on a soul and gain a corporeal form like Riddle did."

"Okay," said Sirius, his mind full of thoughts. "But how do we go about looking for Horcruxes, now? It could be anything! This diary was bought from a Muggle shop. It seemed like an utterly mundane—"

"I told you, Sirius, the secrets to the Horcruxes lie in Voldemort's past. And it is time I begin to look into his childhood, the circumstances of his birth, the years he was missing from wizarding society," said Dumbledore. "I will begin looking, and if the need arises, I know I can count on both of you for help."

"Do you think I'm going to sit back and twiddle my thumbs?" said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "I want to look into this, too, Dumbledore! This concerns my godson! My daughter!"

"Then I suggest you begin by looking into all the books on wizarding genealogy that the Black library contains," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Do you really think he's the heir of Slytherin?" asked Sirius. "The male line of the Slytherins died out years ago. And the female line—umm—the Gamps, for one, were descendants of Slytherin from the female line…" he said, trying to remember all his childhood lessons. "But I doubt Voldemort's descended from the Gamps. The Gamps died out with Hesper, who was my great-grandmother…" he trailed off, still thinking.

"I doubt his mother was a Gamp," said Dumbledore. "But look into it, Sirius, Remus. Read everything about the ancient and extinct wizarding familes…because that is where Voldemort's journey into the Dark Arts began."

"Okay," said the two together.

"I'm taking Acquila home," said Sirius suddenly.

"I wouldn't advise that," said Dumbledore. "From what I think, Harry will undoubtedly be feeling her absence, especially since—"

"I am taking her home, Dumbledore!" said Sirius firmly. "I want her with me…I want her safe…at least until she wakes up. I'd even have taken Harry home for a couple of days if he didn't have exams coming up. But Remmy doesn't want him to skip the exams," he said, sending a half-hearted glare at Remus. "I came so close to losing her, Dumbledore…if she'd died…if either of them had died, I'd never have been able to live with the guilt…they're my life…the only reason I'm still living. I'm taking her home…I'll bring her back when she comes back to consciousness…but I'm taking her with me, now…"

"As you wish, Sirius," sighed Dumbledore. "I cannot stop you."

"Thank Salazar you used your sense, boy," said Phineas from his portrait. "I do not want Lucius and his brat to harm Acquila in any way, now that his diary plan didn't work—"

"Oh no, Grandfather Phineas," said Sirius smugly, "Lucius Malfoy won't ever be entering the Castle again as a Governor. Nor will he even attempt to harm either of the kids."

"Forced him to resign, did you?" asked Phineas, a hint of pride in his voice.

"Yes…something along those lines," said Sirius, smirking slightly, as the three men continued their discussion on the mysterious Horcruxes.


Harry's mind was elsewhere as Snape drawled on about the Disarming Spell – something Lockhart hadn't even known well enough to teach them, going by his show at the Duelling Club. Defence Against the Dark Arts was now taught by Snape, since Lockhart was now going to be a resident in the St. Mungos ward for permanent patients.

That morning during breakfast in the Great Hall, Dumbledore had announced to the students a very brief version of the events in the Chamber, leaving out all about Voldemort's presence in the Castle and the extent of Ginny's involvement. And much to Harry's discomfort – since he hated being the centre of attraction and the compliments that followed each of his victorious adventures – Dumbledore had announced that Harry had played a great part in rescuing the lives of Acquila and Ginny. And a plethora of students, most of whom Harry had never even noticed, had taken to hounding him with questions, forcing Hermione, Neville, Ron and the Weasley twins to escort him everywhere to keep away the questioning students. Harry was thankful to the five of them, of course, but he did want some peace and quiet, especially to deal with the emptiness within himself that was threatening to swallow him entirely.

It was a strange feeling, really. It was if there was a gaping hole in his heart – a hole that seemed to expand with each passing second. He felt as if there was a huge void within him…as if half of his self had just vanished overnight. Merlin! He was going mad! But he couldn't deny that there was something wrong. At times, he even felt as if he was just going through the motions…as if half of him was asleep. And try as he might, he couldn't wake the sleeping part up! Goodness! If he told someone how he was feeling, they'd probably think he'd taken a hit to his head during his battle with the Basilisk, for none of his thoughts were making any sense.

He cocked a glance at Ron, who was seated next to him. If he told him about gaping holes and voids, he would probably write to Mrs Weasley for a remedy, or tell him to talk to Sirius about it. Of course, he knew he should've told Sirius, but he didn't want to bother his godfather; especially when Harry knew that Sirius was worried about Acquila. During his last chat with Dora on the Mirror, the Metamorphmagus had told Harry that as soon as Acquila had been taken to Black Manor, Sirius had hardly moved from her bedside. He'd even taken the week off Auror training to be with his daughter, even though she was unconscious. And Harry didn't want to add to Sirius' worries.

But as Harry absently gazed at Snape, who was now speaking on the wand movement for the Disarming Spell, he couldn't stand it anymore…couldn't stand the emptiness within him…couldn't stand the void that suddenly seemed to make him want to curl up into a foetal position, and wrap his arms around himself to keep the emptiness from spreading.

He looked at Snape again. The greasy-haired Potions master was no doubt a better teacher than Lockhart for DADA, but it was practically impossible to have even a whispered conversation without the risk of attracting detention. But Harry couldn't stand it anymore. He had to tell someone.

"Ron!" He whispered.

"Yeah?" Ron whispered back, not taking his eyes off from Snape and the blackboard.

"I'm feeling weird," Harry replied, his arms inadvertently wrapping themselves around his midsection.

But before he could speak any further, Ron replied, still staring straight ahead at Snape. "Merlin! Don't you dare puke on me! Tell Snape. He'll let you go to Madam Pomfrey if you are lucky...and maybe I could accompany you…help you walk till the Hospital Wing and everything…I'll at least be able to get out of this boring class!"

"It's not that," said Harry.

What's it, then?" asked Ron, as Hermione, who was sitting on Harry's other side, finally stopped taking notes, hearing Harry's serious tone.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked him, surprising him by speaking in the middle of Snape's class.

"It's—I... I feel like I'm half empty," he whispered. "You know, like half of me isn't there...as if there's a hole in me…" he went on, making sure no one else could hear them, as he pretended to pay attention to Snape.

"What do you mean?" muttered Ron. "You aren't making sense, mate."

"Does this have something to do with Acquila?" asked Hermione thoughtfully, having noticed Harry's discomfort since the previous night.

"Yeah...maybe…I think so," said Harry glumly. "And it's gotten worse since Sirius took her home…"

"Is this because you're missing her, then?" asked Hermione kindly.

"I don't know…it's freaking me out," mumbled Harry.

"Don't worry," said Ron in a whisper. "She'll wake up by tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," replied Harry. "But I don't like this! I felt this way even during the match…I don't even know how I managed to catch the Snitch…I didn't tell Sirius because I didn't want to worry him…but I felt half-asleep during the match…I mean, I was awake…but asleep…"

"How can you be awake and asleep? You sure the Basilisk didn't whack you on the head with its tail?" asked Ron, sniggering a little.

"Shut up, Ronald!" said Hermione in a stern whisper, before she turned to Harry. "I think you should talk to Sirius and Remus about this. I know you don't want to worry them, but they'll want to know. Or you can even talk to Dora's Mum if you wish…she's a Healer; she'll know what's wrong, though I think this has less to do with an illness and more to do with the connection between Acquila and you."

"But how—"

"POTTER!" Snape's voice made Harry fall abruptly silent. "Repeat what I just explained," said Snape, sneering, knowing very well that Harry hadn't been listening.

"Err—sorry, Sir...I don't know," replied Harry, looking at Snape's obsidian eyes, which contained a strange expression which Harry couldn't recognise.

"I suggest you pay attention during my classes, Potter," said Snape. "I am not like Lockhart, who favoured certain famous students who ill-deserve their fame."

Harry snorted lightly. There was the evil glint in Snape's eyes that he'd been expecting!

"You will write a two foot-long essay on the Disarming Spells," said Snape.

"Okay," muttered Harry.

"This time I am letting you get off with just an essay, Potter. But if I find you talking in another of my class, you will be cleaning bedpans without magic each Saturday until the end of your third year," added Snape icily, before turning to the class at large and continuing his lecture.

But Harry found that he still couldn't concentrate, not even with the thought of having to clean bedpans without magic. Each moment that the emptiness remained within him, it seemed to solidify its place in his heart, making him feel as if the void would never cease to exist.

He needed to talk to Sirius. He needed to know what was happening with him…know more about the connection between Acquila and him. And he would get answers out of his godfather this time.


Harry sat by the banks of the Great Lake, dipping his toes into the lukewarm water. Ron, Hermione and Neville had wanted to accompany him, but he had told them not to, saying he wanted some time alone. And the three of them had gone to the library, Hermione forcing the two boys to study for the Transfiguration exam on the morrow.

Harry had been sitting by the Lake for the past half an hour, hidden from view by a few bushes, away from curious students. He had spoken to Sirius on the Mirror about what had been bothering him. And the look on his godfather's face had told him that he knew a lot more about the connection between Acquila and him than he was letting on.

Harry sighed as he thought about the past few hours. He hadn't been able to catch even a wink of sleep the previous night, as the emptiness within him seemed to be growing. He hadn't even been able to eat. And he'd spent the past hour wishing he could just plug the hole in his mind or body or heart or wherever the hole was, so that he could get back to normal… He was getting irritated with it all, now. And he didn't even have Acquila to talk to. Hell, he knew that it was because Acquila was unconscious that he was feeling such discomfort. And a little pondering had told him that Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, they all knew of whatever was going on with him.

Then there was the matter of his godfather being a little secretive since the day he'd wrangled a confession out of Draco. Harry felt that Sirius had probably met Lucius…but had something gone wrong at Malfoy Manor? For Sirius seemed extremely reluctant to talk of Lucius. So Harry thought of letting it go. Once Acquila woke up, she'd surely get the details out of Sirius.

"Hey, kiddo," he heard the familiar voice, as Sirius sat down next to him.

"Sirius! How come you're here?" exclaimed Harry, as Sirius pulled him into a one-armed hug.

"You said you're feeling uneasy, Harry. How could I not come?" Sirius smiled at him, but Harry – who had learnt to read the tone of his godfather's voice – knew that the older man seemed a little nervous, a little hesitant.

"So," said Sirius, "Why aren't you at the library with the others? Not that I want you to study… exams aren't meant to be taken too seriously…"

"I wanted to be alone," said Harry a little tersely. "And I don't feel like giving the exams… Acquila will be missing them, too… we were going to study together… she'd said she'd teach help with Transfiguration and Potions… but she isn't here, now… and I don't know what to do… and I'm feeling weird! And incomplete! Like half of me is missing!" His voice increased a little in volume now, a hint of frustration creeping into it. "And I don't understand why—why things are this way! How can I hear her thoughts? How do our spells meet in mid-air and turn into one single spell? Why can't we attack each other? How did she know I was in danger that night? Why am I missing her? WHY?" The last word came out as almost a scream.

"Harry—" began Sirius, but Harry cut him off.

"I know you know what this is, Sirius! Remus and you've known it since ages! About this—this freaky connection between Acquila and me! But why aren't you telling us? Why aren't you telling me?" snapped Harry, his eyes bright with annoyance.

Sirius sighed deeply. "We— we wanted you to remain a kid a little longer, Harry. You've already been through so much—"

"Don't give me that 'kid' nonsense!" said Harry, feeling more frustrated than he ever had. "Dumbledore told me that same thing last year—that I'm a kid and everything! But Acquila wanted to know…she said it was my right to know! And now, I want to know, too! Voldemort possessed her! How did he possess me, too, then? Why did I feel as if he was in me? And I could sense each and every one of her thoughts! And I'm feeling ill, now! I can't stand this! It's as if half of me has just disappeared from within me! And I know that it's because Acquila's unconscious! I'm missing her! Every part of me is missing her! I'm missing listening to her thoughts! I'm empty from within! I need to know what's happening, Sirius! I can't stand this any more!"

Sirius stared at him, probably a little astonished at his outburst, before he moved his wand in the same intricate motion which he'd used to cast privacy charms in the guest room the other night.

"I didn't know you'd feel this—this emptiness…or I'd never have taken her home," said Sirius, his voice a little hoarse.

"Tell me! I want to know why she's linked to me so deeply," said Harry. "And I know that even Dumbledore knows of this…I've been thinking about this. Dumbledore put Acquila in the orphanage…and he sent her to my Muggle school…that means he wanted us to meet! He wanted us to become friends! So he knew about this connection between her and me! I want to know what it is! Or I'll go crazy, Sirius! I can't bear this—I—I feel like I'm half-asleep…half of me isn't functioning…" he trailed off, his voice desperate.

"You can't tell this to anyone," said Sirius slowly, and Harry could see him giving in to him. "Not even Ron, Hermione and Neville."

"Okay," said Harry after a long moment. And Sirius took a deep breath, as Harry wondered why his godfather was so hesitant to speak of it. It wasn't something bad, was it?

"Have you heard of soul mates, Harry?" asked Sirius finally.

"Yeah…" said Harry slowly, wondering where that was leading to. He'd remembered reading the heading of some stupid column in the newspaper at Privet Drive titled 'how to know when you've found your soul mate', because the column was just above the 'Peanuts' comic strip, which Harry loved to read whenever he got a chance to do so. But Harry hadn't really read the column, because he had been more intent on reading the comic strips before Uncle Vernon snatched the newspaper away from him. And well, which ten year-old boy would read about soul mates?

"Well, I don't know how Muggles define soul mates, but Acquila and you—err—you're soul mates in the real sense of the term," said Sirius, his expression a mixture of trepidation and hesitance.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I mean…your soul…it's just half of the whole. Half in you…half in her… You both share the same soul," said Sirius quietly.

Harry gaped at him, slack-jawed. How would one react on knowing that he had just half a soul? To be honest, it was really creepy. So he had been functioning with just half a soul? Well, he didn't think it made much of a difference…it wasn't like having half an arm or half a leg or something.

And the other part of his soul was in Acquila? He really didn't know how to react to that. With his luck, the other half of his soul might have landed up in someone like Pansy Parkinson or Millicent Bulstrode. So Harry thought himself quite lucky to share his soul with Acquila. Hell, if he'd been given a choice to choose his soul mate or whatever it was called, he probably would have chosen Acquila…after all, she was his best friend. But this—this soul business was really unnerving…and creepy…and uncomfortable.

"Say something," said Sirius, his face concerned, and Harry realised that he had probably been silent for far too long.

"What do I even say?" mumbled Harry. "So because we have the same soul…parts of the same soul or whatever…we can hear each others thoughts?"

"Yes," said Sirius, "Because your soul's bonded to hers…a Soul Bond."

But Harry's eyes suddenly widened in horror as a thought crossed his mind.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed. "Does that mean I share a soul with Voldemort, too?"

"WHAT!" said Sirius. "No! Not at all! Why would you think that?"

"Because I could hear his thoughts, too, couldn't I? Like I can hear Acquila's—"

"No…no, kiddo. You certainly don't share your soul with Voldemort… You could hear his thoughts only because he transferred some of his powers to you, or that's what Dumbledore says…I think you can hear him because of your scar. It's a cursed scar, caused by Dark Magic…and Dark Magic works in strange ways. And you could hear his thoughts only because of your proximity to him…probably because there were two Voldemorts out there…I'm not sure…even I don't get half of it. But I'm sure you don't share your soul with Voldemort… you only share it with Acquila. That's why you can feel her pain, sense her thoughts…"

"Feel her pain," mumbled Harry more to himself. "That's why I'm feeling half-empty, isn't it? Because she's unconscious…because she isn't feeling anything?"

"I think so," replied Sirius.

"Wait—does that mean that if I die, she dies, too?" asked Harry in a horrified whisper.

"Yes," said Sirius quietly. "And Phineas thinks this should be reason enough for you to think a hundred times before you put your life in danger again—"

"Grandfather Phineas knows of this, too?" asked Harry indignantly. "You don't even like him, but you told him and not me?"

"I didn't tell him intentionally, Harry. He's in Dumbledore's office all day. He heard us talking when Dumbledore first told me of it after I was cleared of all charges last year."

Harry huffed, before he spoke again. "So…there must be many more people like us, right? Soul mates and all that?"

"Well, no," said Sirius.

"No?" asked Harry in amazement. Merlin! Why did he get all the unusual stuff? Being a Parselmouth, being the boy who lived, sharing thoughts with Voldemort, and now having a rare Soul Bond.

"No," Sirius repeated. "There was just one more couple that we know of – Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel."

"Oh," mumbled Harry, before his eyes widened again. "But—but they were married!"

"They were," said Sirius, and from the smirk on Sirius' face, Harry knew his cheeks were probably flushed at the thought of marrying Acquila.

Marrying Acquila? Hmm… He'd never really given a thought to love and marriage? After all, he was just twelve – or rather, two months short of thirteen. But Acquila? Well, she was fun to be with…she understood him. She was his best friend. And she was pretty, thought Harry. Even the older boys like McLaggen and Diggory thought she was pretty…with her bright grey eyes and sly smile… and she was growing up rather quickly…and rather visibly, he added in his mind, blushing at the thought of having noticed her physical changes.

"Galleon for your thoughts," said Sirius, and Harry suddenly came out of his thoughts, looking at the strange expression on his godfather's face.

Goodness! Merlin! He'd been having not-so-gentlemanly thoughts about Acquila with her father sitting right next to him! Hell! From the look on Sirius' face, Harry felt his godfather knew exactly what he'd been thinking about! God! This was so weird! And awkward! And embarrassing! Harry scooted a little away from Sirius, worried he was going to send a Punching Hex to his face like he'd sworn to do to Marcus Flint.

"Harry," said Sirius, and to Harry's immense relief, the older man was smiling a little. "I know Acquila's my daughter. But for now, just forget that I'm her father. All I am, now, is your godfather. And I hope you'll tell me what's going on in your mind…you don't need to hide anything. I'm not going to hex you or anything…even if you do fancy Acquila… You don't fancy her, do you?" asked Sirius suddenly.

"No," mumbled Harry. He had liked the accidental kiss with her, and he did like her as a friend and find her pretty, but he didn't fancy her.

"Okay," said Sirius, and he thought he saw his godfather look a little relieved.

"But—but I don't like other boys hitting on her," said Harry hesitantly. "Like McLaggen…and Cedric…"

"Jealous, eh?" asked Sirius, a teasing smile tugging at the end of his lips.

"No!" protested Harry. "I'm not jealous! I just—don't like it… I mean—wait!" he said suddenly. "Do I not like it because of the Bond? Is the Bond making me feel—err—protective about her?"

"I—I don't know, Harry," sighed Sirius. "As I told you, Soul Bonds are hardly documented in history. And with the Flamels having died, it's up to Acquila and you to discover your Bond. None of us can help you with that…"

"But she's my friend…I love her…as a friend," he added hastily. "But what if it's all because of the Bond? Would I have been friends with her even if it wasn't for the Bond? What if Dumbledore hadn't sent her to my school? If I'd met her directly at Hogwarts, would I have still been friends with her?"

"I'd like to think that both of you'd have been friends regardless of the Bond," said Sirius. "But I don't know whether it's the Bond that's got both of you so close to the other…"

"So…will I end up together with Acquila?" mumbled Harry. "Like the Flamels?"

"You don't need to," said Sirius. "Look, kiddo, I'd never want either of you do anything against your wishes. It's your life. And you ought to live it with whosoever you want. And I would never want the Bond to influence your decisions. If you like someone else in future, go for her. You don't need to date or marry Acquila just because you share the same soul…I want you to be with whoever makes you happy, kiddo…whether it's Acquila, or someone like Daphne Greengrass," added Sirius slyly.

"Hey! Where did Daphne come from?" said Harry indignantly.

"A little Snidget told me that you think she's pretty and she's got a cute smile," said Sirius, before laughing at Harry's shy expression.

Harry mumbled something under his breath, before wondering who'd told Sirius about that. Ron? Hermione? Neville? It was Ron, probably. He could imagine Ron and Sirius sniggering at how he'd become tongue-tied in front of Daphne.

"Are you—are you all right with this, then?" asked Sirius quietly, becoming a little sombre now.

"I guess so," said Harry.

"Hmm…good, I guess," said Sirius. "I'd expected you to—I don't know…get angry or something. Nobody likes knowing that a Bond could control their life…"

"I think I'm okay with it," said Harry. "It's not like I can break the Bond…and I'd prefer sharing my soul with Acquila rather than some other girl…I mean, it's irritating when she can sense all my thoughts…but better her than someone like Millicent Bulstrode…"

"True," said Sirius. "But remember, kiddo, I don't want you to do anything just because of the Bond. Do what makes you happy…be with whomever you love in future…"

"Okay," said Harry, smiling a little. Not that knowing of the Soul Bond had changed anything. They used to call it the 'connection' earlier…the only difference was that it now had a proper name. And that sharing-the-soul part would surely make Harry feel creeped out for days to come. But nevertheless, knowing what he knew now did help a little…made him understand what was happening to him.

"I just hope Acquila's just as accepting of this as you are," said Sirius. "Now that I've told you, I'll tell her too when she wakes up."

"She won't like it," said Harry. "She doesn't like being controlled…like she still dislikes Dumbledore for having controlled her life…sending her to the orphanage and all that… She won't like it…"

"Yeah," sighed Sirius. "But you're a good lad, kiddo. Even your life's been controlled by people, by circumstances… But you took this in your stride…"

"I'm—well, you can't blame Acquila…she's different than me…she reacts differently to stuff…that doesn't mean I'm better," he defended Acquila stoutly.

"I'm not going to blame her, Harry," said Sirius, smiling a little. "I love her as she is…she wouldn't have been my daughter if she wasn't as impulsive, as hot-headed, as stubborn as she is. And I love you for what you are…loving and accepting and brave…and modest," he added as Harry shied away at the compliments.

"When will she wake up?" asked Harry.

"Andy thinks she should wake up tomorrow…you'll know when she does…the void that you're feeling, that'll probably go away," replied Sirius.

"Hmm," said Harry. "Thanks for telling me, Sirius…"

"I should probably have told you a lot earlier, Harry, going by how calmly you took it. But I wanted you to be a child a little longer…away from all this…"

"It's okay…I'm glad you told me," he said, as he stared at the setting sun, his thoughts a little conflicted as he thought of Acquila and the Soul Bond.


Acquila opened her eyes gradually, before shutting them again as they met the bright light around her. She groaned softly, only to realise that her throat was parched, as if she hadn't drunk water since days. She opened her eyes again, and everything around her seemed blurred, like she'd opened her eyes after weeks.

She snuggled a little into her blanket over her, somehow feeling a little safe within her comfy bed. She shut her eyes again, only for a voice to wake her up.

"Acquila!"

"Mmm," she said, not opening her eyes, wanting to sleep again. "Lemme sleep, 'Arry," she mumbled, wanting the voice to be Harry's, though it didn't sound like him at all.

"Don't go back to sleep, sweetheart. You need to wake up," said the voice, as she felt a rough hand move gently over her forehead. The voice…it wasn't Harry's. It was her father's!

She fluttered her eyes open, and saw Sirius looking down at her, his face seeming relieved.

"Dad," she said, her voice hoarse.

"I'm so glad you're up, love," said Sirius, pressing a kiss onto her forehead.

"Remmy! She's awake, Remmy!" said Sirius a little loudly. And Acquila heard two pairs of footsteps coming into the room.

"Hey, Acquila," said Remus, and she saw that his face seemed relieved too.

"Mistress is awake! Mopsy had brought water for her mistress!" squeaked Mopsy, and Acquila realised whom the second pair of footsteps belonged to.

And Remus made her sit up in bed gently, as Sirius held the glass of water to her lips.

"Take a small sip first," said Remus. And she was glad she heeded his words, because the water seemed to burn her throat as it passed through it. But the next few gulps of water finally made the parched sensation cease.

As she looked around her room, she thought how nice it was to be back home—Wait! Home?
She looked around her again. Yes! She was home! In Black Manor! In her bedroom! But how had she come here?

She tried to remember what had happened before she'd fallen asleep, only to gasp in shock.

"Dad! Hogwarts—Chamber—Voldemort—Merlin me! Harry! Is he alive?" she exclaimed, beginning to hyperventilate as she realised that Harry wasn't in the room.

"He's alive, love. Don't worry…don't panic. He's fine," said Sirius hastily.

"Please call Andromeda, Mopsy," said Remus, and the elf scurried off to obey him.

"Are you feeling alright, darling?" asked Sirius in concern.

"I'm fine, Dad," she replied, her voice still hoarse. "But Harry—why isn't he here? I want to know what happened! Voldemort had possessed Ginny, Dad! He wanted to kill Harry—"

"I know, Acquila…but calm down, now. Let Andy check you up first. And then, I'll tell you every—"

"No, Dad!" she said indignantly. "I'm fine! And I want to know right now!"

"Sirius is right, Acquila. You need rest—" began Remus.

"How long have I been sleeping?" Acquila demanded.

"About three days," Remus replied.

"I've rested enough," she said stubbornly. "Now tell me what happened…or take me back to Hogwarts…I want to talk to Harry…I want to see him…"

"Okay," said Sirius sighing, knowing full well she wouldn't give up. She was just as stubborn as he was.

Even Remus sat down on a chair next to her bed.

"Well, I'll tell you until Andy comes," said Sirius, as he began telling her of the dream Harry had.

"But—but how could he see through Voldemort's eyes?" gasped Acquila, suddenly worried for Harry.

"Dumbledore thinks that Voldemort transferred some of his powers to Harry that Halloween night. Parseltongue, as you know, is one of them…but with the transfer of power, he has some kind of link with Harry," Remus explained.

"A link with Voldemort! That's—that's so creepy, Remus! Is Harry fine? How did he react to all this?" asked Acquila worriedly.

"He reacted a lot better than someone else in his place would have," said Sirius, smiling a little fondly.

"Thank Merlin," said Acquila. "What happened next?"

"It gets worse," sighed Remus quietly. "Harry could hear Voldemort's thoughts, too, when you both were fighting him. He could see how James in his last moments…Voldemort's memory…"

"What the hell!" exclaimed Acquila. "He saw Prongs die? That's—that's horrible, Dad! And—this—this sounds similar to the connection Harry and I have, doesn't it?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Er—the conmection Harry and you share is much different," said Sirius a little nervously, looking at Remus.

"But that's for later, dear," said Remus swiftly, as they continued the retelling until the part Acquila's magic burst out of her.

"And then your Magic burst out, exploded the whole Chamber, and you fell unconscious," said Sirius.

"Ginny—I mean Voldemort was trying to kill Harry, Dad! I had to do something. So I let myself go—let go of the control on my magic. But it worked, right? Since Harry's alive? Did he run away like I told him to?" said Acquila.

"Umm—no. A lot of debris fell on Ginny and broke a few of her bones. Voldemort could no longer possess her since she couldn't even raise her arm to cast spells…so…" he trailed off, a pained expression on his face.

"What happened?" asked Acquila, knowing it was something horrifying if Sirius couldn't even talk about it.

"So," Remus took over, "Voldemort flew out of Ginny's body and possessed you—"

Acquila had an expression of utter shock.

"Acquila," Sirius said softly.

"Did I—did I hurt Harry, Dad?" she asked, completely horrified. "Did I attack him like Ginny did? Did I hurt him, Remus?"

"No, you didn't," Sirius assured her.

"How did Harry—what did he—"

"Harry's scar started aching when Voldemort possessed him…started bleeding rather…But he thought of how much he loves you…and Voldemort fled," said Remus.

"Fled?" asked Acquila.

"Yes. He couldn't stand the love Harry felt for you, or that's what Dumbledore thinks," said Sirius.

"Oh!" mumbled Acquila, not really knwing what to say. Harry had saved her again – and this time, without even using magic…only with the strength of his love.

"Is Ginny fine now?" she asked suddenly.

"Oh yes... her bones are mended... but she's going to suffer from some mental stress for some time," said Remus. "But there's nothing to worry," he added.

"That was very brave of Harry," said Acquila, as all the information sunk in.

"Yes," said Sirius a little proudly. "He faced two Voldemorts and a Basilisk in one night..."

"What? What are you talking about? Two Voldemorts? And isn't the Basilisk already dead?" Acquila sounded confused.

"Ummm—yeah... You only know half the story yet," said Sirius, as they went on with telling her all the rest of the events until Harry destroyed the diary with the Basilisk fang.

"Whoa!" said Acquila finally. "How did Harry manage all that without even a single person to help him? And how was the diary-Voldemort almost alive? And how did Ginny get hold of it in the first place?"

She had no words to express her thoughts about what had happened. Harry had been so brave! So selfless! And she wanted to talk to him!

"The story behind this diary-Voldemort, as you put it, is for another time," said Sirius, not wanting to throw everything at Acquila, especially about Draco. She'd surely not like her cousin's role in the whole saga.

"I promise I'll tell you... but after some time," he added, before Acquila could argue.

"Okay," said Acquila, giving in to her father. "But I need to talk to Harry. I really need to—" she paused as she heard Harry's voice coming from Sirius' pocket.

Sirius took out the Mirror and spoke into it.

"Hey, Sirius!" Acquila heard Harry say. "Acquila woke up, right?"

"She did. I knew you'd realise she was up," said Sirius, handing over the Mirror to Acquila.

"Harry!" said Acquila, her body sagging in relief as she saw his face. "Dad told me all about the Chamber! You were brilliant, Harry!"

"It was—was okay..." Harry said sheepishly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," Acquila replied. "But how did you know I'd woken up?"

"Umm—I—actually the last few days—err—I just knew—our connection—" Harry sputtered.

"What are you saying? Are you okay?" asked Acquila, confused at his behaviour.

"Umm—err—the bell just rang I should get going—first exam today—I'll see you later!" said Harry, before he disappeared from view.

Acquila stared at the now-blank mirror.

"What was that all about?" she asked, looking at her father. "You know, don't you?" she stated more than asked, reading Sirius' expression.

"I'll tell you later," said Sirius.

"How many things are you going to tell me later?" snapped Acquila. "Tell me, now!"

Suddenly, Andromeda entered, a smile on her face.

"I'm so glad you're awake, dear!" she said, pulling Acquila into a gentle hug, as she took Sirius' place next to Acquila.

Sirius took the opportunity to slip out of the room as Andromeda checked Acquila.

But an hour later, he was back in Acquila's room.

"DAD! Tell me what's wrong! Why was Harry so awkward with me? Is he mad at me?"

"Why would he be mad at you, love?" asked Sirius.

"What do you know? You tell me! Why was he behaving so strangely with me? I can't bear the secrecy any more, Dad! And why did he feel like Voldemort had possessed him when he'd possessed me?"

"I'll tell you," sighed Sirius, as he helped her sit up in her bed.

"Did—did you tell him about the connection I share with him?" she asked him. "Did you finally tell him? Is that why he was so weird with me? Is it bad, Dad? What is it?"

"Well, it is about the 'connection'," said Sirius. "I told Harry about it when you were unconscious. He was feeling unwell…empty…as if half of him was asleep—"

"Because I was unconscious?" asked Acquila.

"Yes."

"But—why did he feel so? What's wrong with us, Dad? I could feel his pain, too…hear his thoughts…"

"Well, Harry and you share the same soul—parts of the same soul, rather," he said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" she asked him, her expression blank.

"I mean, Harry and you share a Soul Bond. You are soul mates," he replied cautiously.

And from the look on Acquila's face – a mixture of shock, fear, confusion, and worst of all, deep, deep anger – Sirius knew he was in for a tough time.


A/N: And I'm off for my long-awaited trip! It's after almost two years that I'm getting time off studies and work! The next chapter might take a little longer, because now on, we'll divert a little heavily from canon, and I don't have much time before I Ieave to discuss the next chapter with my friend who co-authors this fic with me. But we'll try to have it up soon, once I'm back in town. Until then, do let us know how you found this chapter! Cheers! :-)