"You did this yourself?" Madame Pomfrey asked him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Harry hesitated, not wanting to reveal what he could do lightly, but relented as he was pretty sure Madame Pomfrey would be up to interrogating his older team mates.

"You are a second year student?" Madame Pomfrey questioned again in tone that signalled somewhat awe and incredulity.

"Did I do a good job?"

Recovering her composure, Madame Pomfrey sniffed and examined his arm carefully before whipping out her wand to cast diagnostics. "If you were an NEWT student specializing in healing charms for coursework, I would have advised Professor Flitwick to fail you. But I suppose for an interim purpose of stabilizing the injury so that you could continue on playing, it will do."

"But what you did today was extremely dangerous Potter. I sometimes still can't believe Quidditch players aren't allowed to seek medical attention from Healers until after a match concluded, it's truly barbaric. If the spell was improperly cast, even slightly, you could have removed all the bones in your arm which would make for a much more serious medical situation…"

Harry continued to stare at her as she droned on. "But as it is, you're only suffering from slight inflammation of the joints. Drink this." She proffered a potion to him that Harry accepted. "Bed rest and two hours later you may leave."

"But how many times have you tried this spell on an injury before, Potter?"

"A few times?"

"Not at all surprising then. It takes healers normally months of practice before they are able to perfect their mastery and control of any healing spell."

Harry downed the potion in one which tasted extremely like liquid toothpaste.

"Now I want to know under what circumstances you are practicing healing magic Potter." Madame Pomfrey looked somewhat stern. "Where you are seeing patients and their injuries to practice, and what kind of medical supervision you are receiving?"

Harry gulped and couldn't think of anything.

"You mean you've never actually cast Brackium Emendo on a live injury before?"

In the end, despite Harry's attempts to cover up, Madame Pomfrey agreed to teach Harry on a weekly basis pending the Headmaster's approval in light of his "not insubstantial" talent. In return Harry agreed to volunteer and work in the Hospital Wing for a couple hours per week where he would be learning the hands on job.

After Madame Pomfrey left to check on the other patients, Malfoy surprisingly came to visit where he regaled the celebrations that we breaking out in the Slytherin common room, but never once thanked Harry for helping him find and thus catch the snitch.

"Why wasn't the match halted though," Harry wondered aloud. "What with the obvious rogue bludger…"

Malfoy sniffed and assumed the superior, haughty attitude he always wore when he was reminded of how little Harry actually knew about the wizarding world, having grown up with muggles. "It's a longstanding rule in Quidditch, that you never stopped a game for almost any reason, even if a player dies. Rogue bludgers certainly aren't reason enough and are more commonplace than you think."

"But that's stupid and only encourages cheating."

"Exactly!" Malfoy made a very pained expression at him. "That's what makes Quidditch so exciting and topical. Both sides have an incentive to cheat, so long as they aren't caught beforehand. It makes the game much more interesting for fans and players…"

"What are the Gryffindors and Slytherins making of this?"

"Well it's usually the losing side that only complains," Malfoy shrugged. "It's stupid really. The conversation from the Gryffindor corridors is that they're accusing you of charming the bludger yourself to your advantage. Just because, you know, you played rather well."

"Notwithstanding the fact that I was almost knocked off my broom by it?"

"As I said, Gryffindors are really, really stupid…"

.

But Malfoy and himself were now regarded as heroes for the lower year students in light of their recent performances in Quidditch and the fact that they were in the team. There was almost an unspoken sense of rivalry between them but they both spent much time avoiding any possible confrontation.

The events from a few weeks ago which led to the petrification of Ms. Norris and the graffiti had almost faded from Harry's mind as he began to regard it as simply an unlikely coincidence of house elf madness and a prank done in very bad taste. Even so, he was keeping a close eye on Malfoy whenever possible, even though he was quite satisfied that Malfoy was probably not involved, whatever it was. Increasingly, he was doubting his instincts, that a plot even existed.

A week after the Quidditch match, and when Harry's lessons with Madame Pomfrey was underway, Colin Creevey, who hero-worshipped Harry even though they were in separate houses was murdered whilst returning from the Library to his common room late at night, right around his regular visits there to badger Harry. Again, despite the talk of the entire school, no one had any idea how he had died (his body was left without any marks), or whether it was even the same perpetrators who had carried out the first attack. The killing curse seemed a real possibility. It also seemed to Harry, that Dumbledore's predictions about dark and dangerous objects being smuggled into the castle by Lucius, was possibly accurate.

There was a noticeable shroud of grief that seemed to cover the entire student body, and various professors could be seen weeping at the start of their classes. The board of Governors were soon called in, Lucius being a member, and Harry saw the logic of why he would be using these attacks to try and get Dumbledore removed.

Harry also noted that the sense of exhilaration and excitement that had surrounded Slytherin House and its students had suddenly evaporated overnight. That is hardly anybody in his House really thought muggle-borns would actually die. They probably just felt it was for good sport and various students in his House wanted to teach the muggle-born elements in the school a frightful lesson, to put them in their place. Either that or they were merely hiding their true feelings, because it would definitely be insane to show any happiness over the death of a fellow student.

Harry on the other hand was feeling extremely remorseful, due to the fact that he always turned the boy away coldly and was prone to jinxing him to stop him talking, was suddenly wide-alert to the undeniable prospect of a threat, that some kind of murderous plot existed after all. That very night, on the day after Colin's death, Dobby paid him another visit.

.

Long after the other boys had gone to bed, Dobby appeared at the foot of his bed, and looking around wildly, he hastily cast a set of silencing spells

"Harry Potter did not listen to Dobby and returned to Hogwarts, despite all of Dobby's warnings!"

"Dobby," Harry hissed and he seized the elf's shirt again. "Don't you dare disappear again, you have to tell me exactly what's going on, where all these attacks are coming from. They're talking about closing the school, students are in mortal danger-"
"Harry Potter is in mortal danger! Dobby thought that that his bludger would be enough to send Harry Potter home…"

"That's why they have the Hospital Wing Dobby! How on earth did you think a physical injury would be enough to send me back to Privet Drive?"

As Dobby started to struggle in his grasp and beat himself, Harry seized Dobby's fists with the other hand.

"Listen, I know you know what's going on. Don't you dare deny it…" Dobby frantically shook his head, his large round eyes terrified. "You work for Lucius Malfoy, you're his house elf." Dobby frantically shook his head again, his eyes closed. "Lucius Malfoy is behind this isn't he, he did something to instigate these attacks, you warned me about it last summer…"

Dobby's reaction was quite sufficient to confirm to Harry that he was right on the mark. All the time while he spoke, Dobby was shaking his hand frantically, looking very much at guilt and trying to punish himself. "Okay, Dobby, tell me how he's doing this. Tell me, so that nobody else has to die. So that I won't be in mortal danger anymore, come on, isn't that what you wanted?"

"The Diary, Harry Potter. Look for the Diary!"

"The diary?" Harry pulled Dobby closer to him until they were almost face to face. "What diary Dobby, you have to be more specific? What diary are you talking about? Lucius' diary? Is it a dark object? How has a diary been causing all these attacks? How exactly did Colin Creevey die?"

Dobby was still struggling mightily and beginning to claw at him with his long nails. Harry yelped and let go and went for his wand, but Dobby was quicker and disapparated in an instant.

Harry fell back in his bed, feeling even more confused. The next day, he went to a very weary and rather down-trodden Albus Dumbledore again, who thanked him for the information and advised him to continue communicating with Dobby, but that a magical diary, would be almost impossible to find, when there were literally tens of thousands of books in Hogwarts at least.

"You have to search every student until you find something then Headmaster!"

"Don't you think the perpetrator, whoever it is, would know to hide the diary in case of precisely such a general search? It would also give up the game, the advantage of us knowing that it is in fact a magical diary that is fuelling these attacks, with our adversary not knowing that we know."

"So you want to do nothing?"

"For the time being, I believe that is the best and least dangerous course of action, though I say this with a heavy heart. Thank you for telling me this Harry. The next time you speak with Dobby, may I suggest you resort to gentler methods of persuasion in attempting to gain his trust and friendship…"

But Harry merely stormed out, feeling more anxious and angry than before.

.

A week after Colin's death, a notice began running the rounds of various House common rooms detailing the establishment of a Duelling Club, under the auspices of Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. Despite the fact that Professor Lockhart was clearly a fraud, or perhaps precisely for that very reason, or perhaps it was merely the state of tension, fear, and anxiety that surrounded the student body, almost every second year turned up for their very first meeting.

"Welcome all," Lockhart gestured and waved enthusiastically, causing his few female fans remaining to swoon, while Draco gagged and pretended to vomit to Harry's right. Lockhart then unwisely chose to participate in a mock duel with his "assistant" Professor Snape and was promptly knocked off his feet with a single incantation.

"Not to worry, not to worry," Lockhart said cheerfully, picking himself off the floor and making sure to brush every speck of dust from his immaculate set of robes.

Harry was paired with Crabbe, and when they were told to begin, Crabbe immediately went for him with his fist. This caused Harry to cast a rather crude tripping jinx. Crabbe immediately crashed to the ground, amidst the general cacophony and chaos that erupted all round him. Surveying the scene, Harry made out his various students in various forms of distress, some locked in physical combat, others throwing showers of sparks at one another and causing explosions to come out the ends of their wands… Hermione in particular was caught in a headlock by Millicent, who was fearsomely twice her size.

Flicking his wand surreptitiously, Harry cast a mild stinging hex which forced Bulstrode to release her hold, grimacing in pain, and gazing around in confusion as to who had intervened.

"Stop, stop, stop!" came Lockhart's voice above the dense fog of green smoke that had been generated by the student's attempts to duel. As the fog dissipated, Lockhart had begun to lecture them all again. "Tut, tut, I see I had better teach your first how to block unfriendly spells."

Harry really wanted to simply say that no student he could see apart from him had even managed to cast a single spell that could be recognized anywhere, but he held his tongue as he needed to stay in Lockhart's good books. The fact that Hogwarts kept having terrible DADA professors and poor standards in the subject was possibly political as well, and not just a result of Voldemort's curse. Because if everyone was skilled in the subject Harry realized the Ministry would be weakened. It only held the position of esteem and authority it did so long as everyone was completely dependent and powerless before aurors.

"But first I will need two students to demonstrate exactly what I mean." And then Lockhart went and picked his two favourite students of the year. "Potter, Granger. Up here please."

Harry stepped forwards uncertainly, and was aware of all the students' various gazes on him, as well as Hermione to a much less extent. He looked at her, still somewhat shaken by her physical bout with Millicent and for once, did not seem exhilarated to be singled out by a teacher.

"An excellent choice," was Professor Snape's reply as he began to smirk nastily.

"Very well now. Granger will be attempting to block Potter's spell now. Do you know how to…" Hermione nodded and Harry's eyes widened slightly. "So we'll begin. On the count of three…"

"Three, two, one…"

Harry immediately cast a "Stupefy!" and a jet of red light shot out of the end of his wand directly towards Hermione who countered, "Protego!" Harry saw Snape's mouth open slightly in shock as Harry's spell was deflected cleanly back towards him which he sidestepped.

"Very good the pair of you!" Lockhart enthused. And scanning around, he saw the rest of the students staring in awe. "Continue then please, so we can see what you can do."

Harry fixed Hermione a stare who glared back determinedly, they both had their wands pointed at the other in an accepted combat position. Harry waited, his breath caught in his chest, as he surveyed every minute detail about her. Her bushy hair, the way her uniform was in a somewhat mess, her slightly trembling wand…

His mind drifted suddenly and he felt something stir in him and he knew he must have given an impression of momentary weakness, because the next second he heard her shout, "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS, EXPELLIARMUS!"

"PROTEGO!" Harry's shield met her two spells easily and deflected away, however at angles away from Hermione that they narrowly missed a nearby student. "IMPEDIMENTA, INCARCEROUS!"

Hermione had raised her shield again to repel his first spell and with a "DIFFINDO", she cut through his conjured ropes and counterattacked again, "IMMOBULUS" which forced Harry to cast another shield charm.

And so, on and on it went with neither side being able to overcome the other's shield, as they took it in turns to counterattack and defend. Eventually, tiring of this, Harry revealed the full scope of his silent casting abilities and fired hex after hex in rapid fashion which forced Hermione fully in the defence, as she shielded again and again, retreating. But her shield was holding steady, and Harry found it simply impossible to shatter her defences.

He was beginning to tire quickly, and suddenly felt panicked at the prospect of losing a duel in front of the entire year, and to a muggle-born no less. Harry fired another trip jinx hoping to catch her off guard, but she anticipated it and managed to move out of its way. He alternated between stunners and trip jinxes, even attempting to cast a Glisseo to force her to slip, but since they were on carpet it had no effect.

"INCENDIO!" Hermione shouted and blue flames shot out of her wand and even though Harry shielded, he felt the intense burst of heat. With a sudden pang he realized he wasn't able to magic water in so short a notice in the midst of a duel as he heard Lockhart shout, "No more fire spells!" But the flames that were now eating away at the carpet and leaving dark stains, burn marks, was severely restricting his mobility. Getting angry, and notwithstanding the outbreak of whispers all around he shouted, "REDUCTO!"

That curse almost did the trick and it shattered Hermione's shield but it left Harry winded from all his heavy casting; he had fired at least three quarters of the offensive spells in the duel. The split second of fatigue was enough for Hermione to raise another shield that battered away his EXPELLIARMUS.

What was going on? Harry was raging at himself. Why couldn't he break through her defences, no matter how he tried?

"CONFRINGO," he said again, and like the first time, he fully destroyed her shield charm, but it left him feeling weak-headed as he was getting drained magically and so was unable to capitalize on the opportunity.

Harry began to hear jeers break out among the Slytherin students as they mocked the fact that one of their own couldn't even defeat a muggle-born. It hardly mattered that Harry and Hermione were both perfuming a level of magic far beyond what they were capable of. It didn't matter that Harry and Hermione were both exerting themselves to the limit. They only saw a disgraceful parity…

Getting angry, Harry mustered the last reserves of his energy and fired a series of spells creatively in a vain attempt to unsettle her, leg-lockers, tickling charms, mimble wimble, sponge-knees curse, distracting flashes of light, bat-bogey hexes, Harry even transfigured a snake, but was unable to have time to control it via magical means (he was not revealing his parselmouth) as Hermione counterattacked. Exhausted as he was, he was unable to hold on to anything he transfigured, so that it vanished in a puff of smoke.

Hermione was clearly disciplined and smart enough to know that she only had to wait for Harry to exhaust himself, and thus win a stalemate of sorts. Harry knew that in his exhausted state, as soon as he was unable to cast another spell, Hermione could fire a simple stunner, and knock him out entirely…

At last with Harry on the verge of fainting due to magical exhaustion, he was unable to think clearly. Pulling out a spell from one that he had mastered in the last few weeks of reading, that he otherwise wouldn't have dared to use in full public otherwise…

"ANGUSTIO FATALIS."

Hermione's hands immediately went to her throat and her eyes bulged as she began choking, her ribs began to constrict that was violently squeezing her windpipe. She grew deathly pale and shuddered. Harry watched, swaying on the spot, before a sense of horror began to set in.

The curse had bypassed her Protego entirely and Hermione didn't know the specific counter-curse. Harry finally lifted the curse as soon as he came to his senses, but the damage had been done.

Hermione collapsed to the floor, writhing. She coughed three times, spitting out a mouthful of blood. A gaggle of Gryffindor second years soon surrounded her and Harry saw their outrage as they drew their wands to face him. They had been duelling for at least ten minutes. The entire audience seemed halfway perched between awe and revulsion, even Snape had little to say as he scrutinized both participants carefully.

"Where did you learn that spell Potter," Snape asked in a low and dangerous tone.

"Well, we've clearly finished for today," Lockhart said, still as cheerful as ever. "Weasley, Thomas, could you please escort Miss Granger to the Hospital Wing."

.

"Do you have any idea what that kind of spell does Potter?" asked Snape once they were in his office. Snape sat down at his desk leaving Harry to stand, in utter exhaustion.

"Vaguely, professor." Harry answered, wheezing slightly.

"Ten points from Slytherin." Harry stared, incredulous. Snape almost never took points off Slytherin so this was extremely serious indeed.

"Recite to me everything that you know and have read about the spell."

Harry sighed, deeply regretting the way things had gone in the duel. "Angustio Fatalis, cannot be blocked by ordinary shield charms, requires the countercurse Angustio Relaxum. Requires knowledge of relevant human physiology to cast, difficult to control."

"Continue."

"Spell effects. Causes a person's rib to contract violently on the lungs, until the target suffocates or the heart ruptures under pressure. Approximately five minutes until the target blacks out, another five until death."

"You had Miss Granger under that curse for nearly a minute I believe. But what if you had lost control in your tiredness?"

"Well, sir. I'm sure being an extremely experienced practitioner yourself, you would have known the counter-curse immediately."

Snape glared at Harry with renewed malice, for calling him out on exactly the same thing that he was now criticizing Harry over, namely interest in the Dark Arts. But Harry noticed that Snape was not as angry as he usually was whenever he crossed the line, at least in the conventional sense. Instead he looked more weary than anything.

"But you used that against a fellow student, a second year nonetheless."

"I'll apologize to her first thing."

"I am giving you one chance and warning to show that I am utterly serious in this instance. Otherwise I would personally go to the headmaster and advise upon your suspension." Snape refused to look directly at him as he said this.

Harry nodded quickly, his right hand was clenching his wand so tightly that his knuckles appeared white.