Chapter Thirty-Five: Perspectives
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
"Wow, it's working!"
"Shut up… just shut up…" Ginny Weasley muttered to herself, too quiet to be heard by her enthused classmates. They were all having fun with their first Charms lesson, but Ginny just wanted the voices to stop. She'd had a headache all morning, and the babble filling the classroom was making it worse.
Ginny glared at Colin Creevey, sitting at the next desk over and shouting the spell enthusiastically. A moment later she heard footsteps, and looked up to see Professor Flitwick approaching her desk. "Are you having trouble with the lesson, Ms. Weasley?" he asked politely.
"No. I already know how to do this," Ginny snapped irritably.
Flitwick frowned at her, taken aback by her tone. "Then perhaps you'd care to demonstrate for the class how to levitate your feather?" he asked testily.
The pulsing pain in Ginny's temples was getting worse, but she raised her wand and spoke the words. "Wingardium Leviosa."
For a moment the feather on Ginny's desk didn't move, and a few of her classmates started snickering. "Well, Ms. Weasley," Flitwick started to say, sounding smug, "perhaps you…" his words trailed off as Ginny's entire desk – including her feather – rose into the air. The snickers turned to cries of alarm as three other desks nearby including Colin's were also lifted by Ginny's charm.
Ginny met Flitwick's stunned gaze under her floating desk. "Feather levitated," she murmured before slashing her wand to the side. All of the floating desks drifted back to the ground, landing softly and evenly.
The silence in the classroom was broken by the sound of the bells signifying the end of class. Ginny picked up her knapsack and left the room without another word, feeling every eye on her back as she left.
Losing herself in the flow of students moving between classes, Ginny absently fingered the coiling band of jade around her upper arm, hidden by the sleeve of her robe. It was a finely carved representation of an eastern dragon chasing its own tail. She didn't know how the bauble – which looked to be a bracelet, but was more like an armlet on her slender limb – had wound up in her cauldron following her trip to Diagon Alley, but that question mattered less to her with each passing day. It was hers now, and that was all that mattered. Her headache was mostly gone by the time she made it to her next class.
Rain pounded down on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, reducing visibility and even drowning out the roar of the crowd in the stands. Harry felt like he was constantly flying through a cold shower as he pushed his Nimbus 2000 to its limits trying to keep the flickering, fleeing golden snitch in sight. He was distantly grateful that Angelina had showed him how to charm his glasses to repel water, because without that spell he'd be mostly blind.
Even with charmed glasses, his chances were still iffier than he would have liked. Catching a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye Harry shifted abruptly to the side, slamming his own body and broom into the other team's Seeker. It wasn't a maneuver he'd ever tried in his first year, though he'd gotten plenty of practice avoiding it – or nursing the bruises when he failed. But in his first year the other House team's Seekers had been three, four and six years older than him, respectively, and much too large to body check. Ravenclaw's new Seeker, however, was actually younger and smaller than Harry.
The first-year Seeker sailed off into the gloom and Harry got back on the chase for the elusive snitch. He'd been keeping a mental count in his head of the score announcements, since he couldn't see the score board through the downpour even if he'd risked looking away from the snitch. Gryffindor was up 130-40 over Ravenclaw. Angelina's offensive line simply had them outclassed, and Wood was the best keeper on any of the teams by a mile. Unfortunately, their lead hadn't passed 150 points yet, which meant he needed to grab the snitch before the other seeker.
The snitch abruptly dropped altitude and dove under some of the overhanging bleachers. Harry followed it, glad to be out of the rain for a moment. His peripheral vision showed him Ravenclaw's Seeker right on his tail. He caught up and made a grab for the snitch, but it bounced up, between the support beams below the balcony, and Harry flew past it. Cursing under his breath Harry arrested his momentum and made a tight turn – only to stare in shock.
Ravenclaw's seeker had been a half second behind him, and he watched as she jumped off her broom and up into the maze of thick wooden support beams. She was moving fast enough that she'd be badly injured if she hit any of them, but instead she threaded her slender body through the obstacles, and her hand flashed out. A moment later she dropped back down onto her waiting broom with the snitch firmly captured in her hand. Madam Hooch – the only person who could see under the stands – blew the whistle. Harry heard groans from the Ravenclaw side and cheers from Gryffindor. He closed his eyes with a wince, listening as the sounds abruptly reversed sides once the results went up on the board. Final score: 190 Ravenclaw, 130 Gryffindor.
The teams made their way to the ground, and before the Ravenclaw team vanished into their locker room Harry saw them hoisting their Seeker up into the air and cheering her on. Ginny Weasley's hair was soaked and plastered to her head and robes, but her grin lit up her face.
In the corridor below the stands Harry could feel the rest of the Gryffindor team looking at him, and he winced. He knew he'd let them down. "What was that Potter?" Bernstein – the backup Seeker – demanded, shoving Harry against the wall. "I thought you were always hot shit. How'd you get beat by a little girl?"
Already tired and irritated, Harry fantasized for a moment about breaking the older boy's wrist while it was so conveniently resting on his shoulder, but he let it stay merely a pleasant thought. "She jumped into the scaffolding at speed; didn't think she had the confidence or the skill to do that."
"Isn't flying like a pro supposed to be your bailiwick, Potter?" Bernstein jabbed with an open sneer.
"Bernstein, shut up," Wood interjected wearily, physically forcing the larger boy a step back from Harry. "The other team got the snitch first, it happens. Harry's not the one you should be snapping at." With that Wood rounded on Fred and George, his expression darkening. "What the hell were you two playing at out there? Ravenclaw's team is the best it's been in years, and we all need to be on our best game. Potter needed your support and he wasn't getting it."
"What's that supposed to mean, captain?" Fred demanded. "We kept the bludgers off of the offense, didn't we?"
"Yes, but you didn't deflect the bludgers toward their Seeker; you gave up multiple chances to do so. She's good and she faced no pressure. You noticed, I trust, that Ravenclaw's beaters weren't showing Potter the same consideration?"
"Captain…" George said slowly.
"Look, I get it," Wood sighed. "She's your little sister, and you don't want to see her get hurt, but…"
"But nothing," Fred interrupted. "Even if we weren't obligated to look out for the miserable little brat, do you know what our mother would do to us if she broke an arm or worse and we were the ones that sent the bludger winging her way?"
"Like I said, I get it," Wood growled, "but if you're not going to play as well as I know you both can, you'll be on the bench for the next Ravenclaw game." Wood looked around grimly, meeting everyone's eyes in the sudden silence. "Get cleaned up and dried off, all of you."
Harry headed into the showers, feeling sympathy for Fred and George even if they had been holding back. He knew all four of the Weasley boys at Hogwarts were perplexed by their sister's actions since arriving at Hogwarts. The Sorting Hat had shocked everyone in the Great Hall by placing Ginny in Ravenclaw, and she'd left her brothers a little hurt by how eagerly she'd taken to her house. Ron kept saying things like 'first Weasley in generations'. Reading between the lines of their reactions, Harry got the sense that Percy, Fred and George were more confused by Ginny's sudden prodigy status. She was leaps and bounds ahead of the other first-years in spell-casting skill and power, her athletic prowess was astounding, and professors were already comparing her to Dumbledore as a youth.
When Harry emerged from the locker room the rest of the team had already dispersed, but someone else was waiting for him. Suppressing a groan Harry tried to slip out the back, but he was spotted before he could make good his escape. "Harry my boy, just the fellow I was hoping to see!"
Harry forced a smile. "Hello, Professor Lockhart," he managed politely. In spite of the chill and pouring rain outside, Gilderoy Lockhart's appearance was as immaculate as ever, his golden curls almost shining even in the dim hallway lights, and his tailored outfit dry without anything out of place. Given that he wore only a stylish cape rather than the cloaks most of the game's attendees had donned, Harry was mildly curious to know what kind of spell the man used to preserve his appearance. He got an answer a moment later when they got outside and Lockhart silently cast a spell that caused the falling rain to bend around them both.
"That was a great hustle out there, my boy," Lockhart barreled on.
"Not great enough to win," Harry replied glumly.
Lockhart clapped him on the shoulder with a sympathetic smile. "Come now Harry, don't be so hard on yourself! No one comes out on top one hundred percent of the time, not even me. Why, when I was but a young man roaming the world, there was this time in Andhra Pradesh – that's in India, my boy – when I met this band of local wizards who played-"
"Can I help you with something, professor?" Harry interjected as politely as he could, knowing that Lockhart was about to go off on another rambling story about himself like the ones that took up half of every Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "It's late, and I have homework to do before bed."
"Ah, of course," Lockhart murmured. "I won't keep you long, my boy, but I was actually going to offer you some help with your current problem." Lockhart beckoned and headed back toward the school.
Relieved that they were at least headed in the right direction, Harry walked alongside him. "What problem do I have, professor?" he asked.
"Why, an upstart stealing your thunder, of course," Lockhart replied with a look of mild reproach at Harry. "Fame is a fickle mistress, Harry, and if she is not appeased with alacrity, she may abandon you for a newer face. If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that the process of maintaining one's public profile is a constant battle against encroachment."
Harry took a moment to absorb that. Not for the first time, he wondered why it was that Lockhart though he cared about being famous. It was true that Ginny had eclipsed Harry as Hogwart's 'young prodigy', but he honestly didn't mind. "Professor…" Harry began in exasperation.
"There are ways to ensure that one stays on top, my young protégé," Lockhart continued with the subtlety of a conversational bulldozer. "Why, there are secrets here at Hogwarts lost to time that would earn considerable accolades for the one who unearths them."
"Professor, I don't-" Harry protested.
"Or if mere fame is not enough, you could reprise the role of hero," Lockhart added slyly. "After all, some of this school's secrets are quite dangerous, especially to unaware students."
Harry's eyes narrowed and he stopped walking, studying Lockhart. "Professor, if you're aware of a threat to the student body shouldn't you be informing the Headmaster?"
Lockhart grinned. "Oh come now Harry, don't be so dramatic. My research indicates that the Chamber of Secrets is currently no danger at all; it's been sealed off for decades. Locating and opening the Chamber is an expedition I'd intended to undertake, but I'm not averse to sharing its glories with a capable young wizard such as yourself. Just imagine the headlines!"
"What is the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked, curious despite himself.
"Why, the hidden sanctum of Salazar Slytherin, one of the school's founders, chock full of his greatest – and most dangerous – treasures," Lockhart replied innocently.
Harry blinked. "What makes you think something like that exists, or that you can find it if generations of Headmasters didn't?"
Lockhart offered Harry a conspiratorial smile. "I know it exists because it was last opened when I was just a lad like you. Look it up in the library if you doubt me. As to how I intend to find it…" Lockhart tapped the side of his nose with a sly look. "Well, you can't expect me to share all of my secrets before I know if you're even on board."
Harry studied Lockhart warily. It was true he wouldn't be averse to a challenge to test himself, but he also didn't trust Lockhart. "You're aware, professor, that your predecessor took me into his confidence, cultivated my trust… and then tried to kill me?" Harry asked quietly.
Lockhart drew back with an expression of mild horror. "So mistrustful, Harry," he exclaimed. "Well there's no need for such suspicion of Gilderoy Lockhart! I am entirely above board. If you wish, feel free to discuss my offer with the Headmaster. I've already told him that I intend to uncover the Chamber while I'm here at Hogwarts, and I might enlist a capable student or two as assistants. I am the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. Whatever Salazar left behind in that crypt, 'dark' probably isn't the half of it."
"I see," Harry murmured.
"Let me know if you're interested Harry, but don't wait too long," Lockhart replied airily as they stepped through the school's main doors. "Time is a factor here, and if you're not game, I might have to see if young Miss Weasley is more inclined to a bit of adventure."
Harry stilled at that. Ginny was certainly proving to be capable, but she was young, she didn't have his training… and she was his best friend's little sister. "That won't be necessary," Harry replied. "If Headmaster Dumbledore approves this… internship… I'll take it."
"Splendid," Lockhart beamed. "I'll let you know where we'll get started after class next time I see you. Until then, be well."
Harry watched Lockhart go with bemusement. Well, there's no way he can be as bad as Quirrell. This might even be fun if he's not just full of hot air and there really is a Chamber of Secrets. Making his way back to Gryffindor Tower, he was – for once – unaware of a pair of curious eyes watching him from the shadows of Hogwart's corridors.