AN: Sorry for the slow update. Network troubles.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my interpretation and that was probably inspired by someone else anyway. All hail JKR!

Quirrell looked up from his paper, seeing a very shaky Rita walk in. "You okay?" he asked, seeing the look on her face.

"I never thought I could enjoy something like that," she said, sitting down heavily. "I mean, I know I've never been the best person in the world-"

"Don't you dare blame yourself Rita. It was an eye for an eye, nothing more." Quirrell sighed, running his hands over his turban, ensuring it was still in place. It had been a long night and the morning wasn't looking up."They know about us, Rita."

Her eyes widened. "What?" she said, her lip trembling. Quirrell winced. He knew this wasn't the time to tell her, but what choice did he have? "How do you know that?"

Quirrell sighed, passing her the paper. "You spent most of last night with Miller. When I woke this morning I snuck out to Diagon Alley and snagged a paper . Our faces made the front page. Apparently the assassins charmed a letter to be delivered to the Daily Prophet if they were killed. It implicates us in the torching of St Mungos. Add to that the fire fight in the park- well the public's already bought it and the Ministry has warrants out for our arrest."

Rita's face went white as she sat, processing this. "So, what are we going to do?" Her voice betrayed no emotion. "I'm assuming the flat is safe, or we wouldn't be here right now, would we?"

Quirrell nodded. "I rented it under a muggle name, so it'll be a while before the aurors make the connection. However, I still think we should get out of the country. We can't do much more here. I can't help get the dark lord out of my head until his... other part is finished with the diary carrier. He doesn't even need us to help him secure funds at his point."

"What about your... other needs?" asked Rita, concerned. "The dark lord still requires unicorn blood or he'll start feeding on you, right?"

Quirrell grimaced. "Yes, he does. I think we should head for Europe for the moment, maybe France or Germany. They have large forests which have entire reserves. We'll have to change our appearance however. The ministry will put the word out and there'll be people looking for us." Seeing the look on Rita's face, he reached for her hand. "We'll get through this Rita, I promise."

Rita's eyes met his. "I hope so, but somehow I think we're both going to die before the end of this."

"Don't say that," said Quirrell. "We'll be fine, I promise." But in his heart, Quirrell was no longer certain was the truth.

HPHPHP

Harry was having an odd day, to say the least. After the last few days of news articles about a mad teacher and reporter murder duo, he'd received a letter from his uncle of all things, warning him about Sirius Black. A letter from Vernon was unusual enough, but what he'd found oddest was the almost civil tone, something he would never have expected. He'd felt obliged to send a letter back thanking him and assuring him that he'd keep an eye on Sirius in case he was up to something. He wasn't certain if Vernon wanted one, but felt it prudent to send it anyway.

"Harry my boy," came a cry and Harry groaned, dropping his head and trying to get lost in the crowd, but it was no use. Coming towards him from down the corridor, was 'Professor' Lockhart. Lockhart's eyes reminded him of Uncle Vernon when he had a particularly profitable client in front of him. It was a sort of predatory glint that hid behind a veneer of charm which Harry had always known not to trust.

"Yes Professor?" Harry replied testily.

"Why don't you help me with my fan mail, my boy?" said Lockhart, easily parting the crowd, using a mixture of charisma and the occasional elbow. "I believe you should learn a little about handling your fame before it becomes to much for you. Fame is a fickle friend after all." He laughed loudly, his perfect teeth gleaming.

Harry shifted uneasily. "Thank you sir, but that won't be necessary. I've never had to worry about fan mail."

Lockhart slid closer, separating Harry from his friends. "Harry, Harry, Harry," he said smiling as he rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. This felt far too close, so Harry shrugged it off. "You have to understand just how much your fame can help you. Learning how to use it early will help you later in life."

Harry caught Hermione staring at Lockhart in adoration and winced. There was the famous Lockhart charm at work. "If its all the same Professor, I would rather be known for my own accomplishments than for something that happened to me as a baby."

Lockhart's smile developed a nasty edge to it. "But Harry, you could be great you know. All you have to do is embrace your fame. Fame is after all, a form of power and power makes everything else so much easier."

"... I have to go." Harry stepped back between Ron and Neville, grabbing them by the arms leading them away. "That guy gives me the creeps," he said as soon they were out of earshot.

"Oh honestly Harry," said Hermione waspishly. "His heart's in the right place. He just wants to ensure you're not overwhelmed when the time comes." Harry had the feeling Hermione was more susceptible to Lockhart's charm than most of the others, since despite the contradictions in his books, she still believed the fraud. Harry had done a head count and found that nearly all the girls where at least partly affected by Lockhart's charm, as well as a few of the boys. However, there seemed to be less interest amongst the first years and the teachers seemed entirely unaffected. Harry had a feeling that the teachers were in such close proximity to the man that his effect had entirely worn off, probably helped along by their contempt for his teaching abilities.

"I agree with Harry," angrily countered Ron. He'd always been annoyed by Hermione's worship of the peacock and lately had trouble hiding this. "He's a slimy git. He wants to ride on Harry's coat tails, I just know it."

Harry, Neville and the rest of the crowd came to a dead stop, ignoring Hermione and Ron's tirades. "Er... guys?" Neville jerked his elbow into Ron's side.

"What?" said Ron , spinning to face Neville, before his eyes caught sight of the writing on the wall of the hall.

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.

"What's that... bloody hell!" Ron stared down in horror at the floor of the hall. Lying, surrounded by an expanding pool of water, was Argus Filch, the old, crotchety caretaker. With his eyes wide open and his rigid form, Harry thought it must have been some kind of paralysis curse, but he'd never seen anything like that before. It took a moment before he noticed the other detail. Mrs Norris, Filch's despised cat was lying, her limp form a counterpoint to her owner's.

"Everybody stay back," called Lockhart, striding through the crowd of students. "You, go fetch the other professors. Tell them Argus Filch has been attacked and appears to be paralysed." Lockhart casually kicked Mrs Norris out of the way and leant down to look into the man's eyes.

"Will he be okay Professor?" asked Ginny Weasley in a small voice, looking sick.

"Never fear Miss Weasley," said Lockhart, puffing out his chest and sweeping his baby blue cloak behind him. "You have nothing to fear. I'll ensure this matter is soon dealt with." Harry gave Neville a sidelong look. Something felt wrong here. What was the Chamber of Secrets and who the hell was the heir? And what in Merlin's name made Argus Filch, the unpleasant and vindictive caretaker, his enemy?

"Everything is under control." Everyone started at the sound of Dumbledore's loud, commanding voice and turned to find the man himself marching down the corridor flanked by the other professors and a Slytherin prefect. " All prefects, please take your house members to their dormitories. The professors and I will scout the school for any clues to this attack. Please leave, now."

Harry walked away following Percy, his mind spinning. It looked like Gornuk was right about Hogwarts. The place was looking more and more like a death trap. Maybe he should have considered switching schools after all. He'd have to wait until next year however.

"Ever feel like we're going to the wrong school?" asked Harry, looking at his friends.

Ron looked at him funnily. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous? I mean last year there's a troll and this year a man's been cursed. Doesn't that seem odd to you?" Only Hermione seemed to agree from the looks on the others' faces. Harry sighed. Wizardkind were scarily accepting of danger, something that probably had to do with them all carrying a lethal weapon in their trousers. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

Hermione gave him a funny look and Harry shrugged. He'd have to talk to her later and see what she thought about all this. Maybe she could find out something about the Chamber of Secrets before he contacted Gornuk. And maybe Vernon. Vernon knew about cons and it probably would help getting his opinion on Lockhart. He wasn't certain how a letter would go across, but he had the horrible feeling he was going to need all the help he could get. Again.