"What if?"

A Harry Potter story (AU, set in the beginning of HP-ATSS to follow each school year but with trickles here and there from years 2-6) started July 2007, just before the release of Book #7. This tale ignores DH and subsequent revelations about canon characters and timelines. It is, for the most part, RaM-verse compliant. If you don't know that story, the full title is "Resolving a Misunderstanding" by MMADfan. I highly recommend it.

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling; I do not own these canon characters, and I do not make money from these fictional adventures.

Rating: K+ to T (just to be on the safe side, for mild coarse language and implied sexuality; ADMM and FFPS).

A/N: It is a rainy October leading up to Halloween and the start of Quidditch season is not far behind Nearly Headless Nick's "Deathday" party.

Chapter 36/?

October Skies

The warm, sunny blue skies of September soon gave way to the gloomy clouds and non-stop rain of October at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Since the start of his second year there, Brian had been able to swim in Black Lake at least twice each week and he knew that Eliot and Miriam were awaiting the arrival of their one thousand or so baby squids, better known as "paralarvae" since the babies would all be identical—and very, very tiny versions of their parents. The happy Architeuthis couple had long since been picking out baby names; as you might expect, this task would take a rather long time for so many offspring.

The raindrops, though, came in all shapes and sizes: from teensy, weensy stinging rain to medium normal-sized but sloppy rain, to raindrops that seemed to be the size of Muggle tennis balls that were blown sideways into the windows by tumultuous gusts of wind. They certainly made a racket when a dozen or more hit the windows all at once. Many times, it seemed as if the outdoor weather would make its way inside, but fortunately, it never did. Hogwarts castle herself was as sturdy as the Scottish mountains and standing stones surrounding her, granitic remnants of a once-glacial terrain.

Except for the dungeon where Professor Severus Snape (and Head of Slytherin House) held court for Potions classes, most of the rooms were kept warm and cozy by fires blazing in the fireplaces when occupied; either true firewood or glowing embers of the magical kind were maintained by the House elves. In the Gryffindor Common room, Brian took it upon himself to assist Topher and the rest of the staff keep up with the heat and lighting. Fred and George Weasley tended to use less sedate (and potentially hazardous) means for illumination and warmth; case in point, a "rescued" magical salamander that scorched a tabletop as it smoldered. The twins had found that their Care of Magical Creatures class really stimulated their interest in "studying" outside of lecture.

With the end of summer "officially" coming after the autumnal equinox, the students and staff alike were struck by a particularly virulent strain of cold viruses in the month of October; it seemed that only a few of those in residence were immune, Brian, Hagrid and Headmaster Dumbledore in particular. The school nurse and Potions Master Snape were kept extra busy with Pepper-up potions to ease the general nasal stuffiness and chest congestion of upper respiratory infections—even in the Wizarding world, antibiotics were completely useless against nasty little viruses. The potion itself tasted pleasantly minty but it often left the consumer with wisps of smoke streaming from their ears, nose or mouth for several hours after a dose. Imagine any one of the ginger-haired Weasley siblings and you get a pretty good picture of someone who looked for all intents and purposes as if their head was on fire.

"Mom, would you like a fresh pot of tea? Or I can call Topher for some more of Breaklin's special barley soup if you prefer," Brian asked one Saturday evening as he visited with Minerva and Albus over the weekend. McGonagall herself had taken to her bed for a couple of days to nurse a severe head cold.

"No, love, but thank you," she said with a sigh and a sniffle, thinking she would ask Albus later to make her a short, warmed brandy. Minerva dabbed at her tender nose with a green tartan silk handkerchief. "I know Poppy said to get plenty of rest and push fluids but I fear I may get swept away in a tidal wave of soups and teas right about now!"

The young man grinned at her mild grumpiness and complaining as he had done very much the same thing in her presence that past summer (when he'd caught a doggie cold from Fang of all beings). He leaned down to kiss her forehead, tucking the light blanket up to her arm. Minerva also complained several times that she'd slept away the last forty-eight hours and was now sitting up in bed, bolstered by half dozen or so pillows against the antique mahogany headboard.

"You'll be up and around tomorrow morning, I'm sure, Mom," he told her. "And you've got all of your books over here to catch up on, right?" As the headmaster had acted as her Transfiguration class substitute on Friday, Brian knew that Albus had collected the in-class essays and would grade them himself. Both of her men had insisted that she get plenty of rest and had been attentively waiting on her, hand and foot.

Minerva actually rolled her eyes at the handsome young wizard but they were sparkling quite a lot with pride and love. "Och, well you are certainly a tight stickler for following her orders, laddie," she muttered with a smile, her Scottish Highlands burr softening her words. "Poppy chose well for my home nurse. Shouldn't you be revising homework or an essay or laundry or something?"

Brian laughed and kissed her again, glad that he detected no fever. "It's all done for Monday, and yes ma'am, she sure did. We can soundly beat Dad at cards again after lunch tomorrow if you like."

The Deputy Headmistress slipped on her reading glasses taken from the nightstand and found her place in the book that rested on her lap.

"Oh, and Brian love, you and your father should try to not destroy the furniture in the meantime, please," she said wryly after she cleared her throat quietly, looking at him over the shiny gold wire rims. "I heard a few of the crashes from you lads earlier and that upholstery won't clean itself."

Brian blushed and grinned sheepishly at that, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound. Minerva truly had overheard her son and husband practicing Wizard's dueling in the other room since Flitwick had been unavailable; Filius and Pomona both had caught the colds that were going around the school and had been advised, as she was, to take it easy that weekend.

Rollins reached for the door and giggled softly at the admonition. "I'll try, Mom. Love you."

When he stepped out and made his way down the hallway, he caught out of the corner of his eye a pale blue glow appearing on Minerva's bedroom door: Privacy charm. Albus had already changed into a lightweight robe and was moving an end table off to one side with an easy wave of his hand. He had also enlarged the open space of their living room, giving Brian and himself more space in which to duel.

Brian laughed out loud when he saw the rolled up antique Turkish carpet sidling on its own toward the wall, looking very much like an overgrown inchworm straining to get safely out of the way and exposing beautifully dark hardwood floors.

"Dad, this is so cool! By the way, Mom says she wants us to go easy on the furniture this time."

Albus chuckled. "I know, my boy, I know. I forgot about that, didn't I?"

Brian shrugged, unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. "Too bad we can't go outside, maybe even over to the stadium for lots of elbow room."

Dumbledore nodded, smiling fondly at the youngster (though Albus had to look up a little bit to meet his son eye to eye).

"Indeed we should as your skills are improving rapidly, but I agree with Filius and his suggestion to keep your practices as discreet as possible. Second year students are not usually permitted so much leeway with their magic and I fear some of your classmates might become jealous of those allowances."

The young man sighed, raising his eyebrows in agreement. "Yes, sir. I know I would be."

-/-/-/-/-/-

It was a totally different experience, dueling with his father rather than with his coach, Professor Flitwick, and Brian loved them both dearly. Where Filius was skilled and methodical in his spell and charm selection, the young wizard realized right away that Albus was even more adept, and yet wilder with his choices. You could even say that Dumbledore seemed unpredictable when he dueled but he still was able to control and conserve his great font of magical energy.

Brian was sweating from the warmth cast off by the fireplace and grinning from ear to ear when Albus stood beside him, demonstrating the way he cast spells with both hands, all of them in rapid succession. Rather than aim potentially hazardous hexes at his own son, Albus had set up a half dozen practice dummies to be on the receiving end of his wand, so to speak.

"If you watch my feet, son," said Albus, his voice low as he concentrated. "Notice how I merely move a bit here and there. I'm barely dancing a samba, yes?"

Brian rubbed his thumb through both eyebrows, casting aside beads of sweat that had accumulated there. "Yes, sir but what if the other guy is moving around more? He might zap you right in the back of the head before you know it. Professor Flitwick said you could either have a runway tournament setup or a more open area, but it depends on the organizers of the event, I suppose."

Albus chuckled, appreciating once again the little Americanized expressions his son so frequently used—he found it even more endearing when Rollins occasionally used a uniquely British expression and it came out in his U.S./coastal Maine accent.

"My opponent will expend far more energy than I will. See? That is also where your Shield Charms will come in very handy."

Dumbledore cast several hexes in rapid succession, turning only slightly from where he stood in the center of the expanded room. The practice dummies were now Charmed to move independently of one another, surrounding the two wizards.

Brian concurred, nodding. "I love using Shield Charms in a duel. Especially when another spell bongs clean off of it."

Albus frowned slightly, curious but amused. "Bongs?" he asked, his tongue nearly tripping over the unfamiliar word.

Brian blushed a little and smiled as he stepped a few feet away. He raised his wand and gestured for Albus to see what he planned. "Here, Dad. Just block this Stinger and listen for the noise it makes. It's pretty neat."

Dumbledore did just that and had to chuckle as the sound of Brian's spell resonated as it bounced away from the light Shield Charm. "Ah, yes. That is a good sound, isn't it?" He reached to give his son a one armed hug about the shoulders as they stepped over to the matching easy chairs for a tea break. "And I'm sure it goes rather well with the symphonies you and Filius use for your practice sessions."

"Oh, absolutely!"

-/-/-/-/-/-

By the time Halloween arrived on the last day of the month, the students of Hogwarts had seen enough clouds and rain to last them a lifetime, and they all certainly looked forward with great anticipation to the annual All Hallows' Eve banquet. That is, all but three of them.

Harry and his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, had agreed to attend instead the 500th "Deathday" event for Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, one of Hogwarts' numerous ghosts-in-residence. Harry in particular, was rather miserable owing to the facts of several things going on for him at school: muddy and rainy training sessions for the Gryffindor Quidditch team under the obsessing and obsessed Oliver Wood; perpetual bad vibes from Draco Malfoy, Professor Snape and pretty much all of House Slytherin with their frickin' ridiculously fast new brooms donated by Malfoy's father, Lucius; Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Gilderoy Lockhart and his patronizing "mentoring" of one as famous as he; and, hearing voices.

Well, one voice in particular (that apparently nobody else could hear, another bit of a bother) that kept nattering interminably on and on and on about "blood" and "bite" and "kill". It really was enough to put a guy off from just about everything he once enjoyed.

And so Harry sported a brave face and he got ready for the evening's "celebration"; in the second year boys' dormitory that he shared, he tamped down strong feelings of envy as Brian, Seamus, Dean and Neville chatted excitedly about the upcoming banquet and Halloween decorations in the Great Hall.

"I heard there's gonna be live, er…music this year," said Seamus, running a comb through his short hair, neatly pressing aside a few loose strands with his fingers. He grinned at his reflection in the mirror before he hopped back onto his bed. "Some band of skeletons or zombies or something the Headmaster booked. All the way from Poland, if you can believe that!"

"Skeletons from Romania, yep, that was it," interjected Brian Rollins. "Hagrid and Professor Sprout both sounded pretty excited about the band when I helped them to wheel in the ginormous pumpkins from the garden. Me too, actually."

Hogwarts' sole American student chuckled at the thought of how big Hagrid's prized pumpkins had grown with all of the rainwater they'd been doused with; the trio of pumpkins had then been meticulously hollowed out and carved into the largest Jack-o-lanterns anyone had ever seen.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, nodding grimly. Both boys had chosen to wear their school robes over freshly pressed shirts and ties for the occasion (at Hermione's gentle suggestion); Ron wasn't sure about how formal a "Deathday" party could be but he reckoned they could at least make a good showing for their friend Nick.

"Well, I guess we'll see you guys later on," said Harry as he got to his feet. "Have a good time at the Feast, yeah?"

"Maybe you could save me some pumpkin-spiced rolls or a chocolate frog or something?" Ron added glumly, rising from his four-poster bed. Brian smiled and clapped Weasley on the back.

"I'll get a whole bunch of good stuff in my pockets, just for you dudes. You'll see," he promised, trying to cheer him up and including Harry in the offer of food. The other boys all laughed: from the start of their second year, Brian's growth spurts had earned him a reputation of eating like a "bottomless pit" and he was rarely without snacks in his robes or blue jeans. What the other boys did not know was that Topher, Professor McGonagall's House elf, kept all six of them well fed at her request.

"Thanks," replied Ron, turning to follow Potter downstairs to meet Hermione in the Gryffindor Common Room so they could walk even further downstairs to get to the dungeon in time. "See you, fellas."

Neville sighed heavily, leaning over and craning his neck to glimpse down the short hallway to the stairs to make sure that Ron and Harry were indeed out of earshot. He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"To paraphrase one of your expressions, Brian," he said, shaking his head in sympathy and saying aloud what the four boys were thinking. "That Deathday party is gonna really suck."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Ron's teeth were chattering and he felt more than a little bit sick to his stomach as goosebumps rose along both forearms. Nearly Headless Nick's party had started off well enough (since the youngest Weasley son had never been to one before and therefore had no frame of reference) but the multitude of ghosts playing polo with someone's disembodied head; the screeching of whatever they called music was playing; and, the moldy eats and drinks had gotten to him after more than an hour down in the castle dungeon.

Even Hermione looked pale and nauseated and it had been she who had insisted that they attend—" a promise is a promise, Harry," she'd bossily reminded them both that afternoon.

All three exhaled a sigh of relief as they made their way up to the main floor of the castle. Following his growling belly, Ron had a spring in his step as he turned to head to the Great Hall.

"D'you think there's still food set out?" he asked, and then his face fell as he noticed the intent look Harry had just given the wall. "Oh no, not again."

With barely time to catch their breath, Weasley and Hermione dashed after Harry, who was now legging it up to the second floor.

"Harry! Harry, wait up, please!" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth. She braced one hand against a stitch in her side and nearly ran into the dark-haired youngster who had stopped at the second floor landing. "Geez, I'm not cut out for this running about, Harry."

"Where is it?" he muttered, frustration seeping into his voice. Potter craned his neck as he looked up toward the ceiling, not watching where his feet were stepping.

"Can't be in the walls, can it? The voice thing, I mean," Ron asked, having a slightly easier time running up the stairs than Hermione, but only just.

"I dunno, it's like…" Harry started to reply but he trailed off when the trio realized that they were now standing in a huge puddle of water. Shit. "Oh, no."

Looking ahead into the flooded hallway, Potter saw something stiff and unmoving, hanging from a wrought iron torch bracket. Scarlet letters, each at least a foot high, had been scrawled nearby. Closer inspection revealed the motionless body of Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, dangling by her fluffy tail, upside-down.

Ron gulped noisily as Hermione read aloud the writing on the wall: "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware."

The three of them shared worried looks and it was Hermione whose wits returned the soonest. She grabbed an arm at either side, dragging the boys bodily along with her back down the corridor from whence they'd come.

"We don't want to be here when they…" Granger stopped suddenly, hearing the rumble of footsteps and voices coming from both staircases. It sounded like a couple hundred well-fed schoolmates were making their ways to student dormitories.

"You! You killed my cat!" shouted Argus Filch as he pointed a shaking finger right at Harry Potter. "I'll have you for this. Murderer!"

TBC

A/N: I'd love to hear from you guys. Tell me what you like or don't like in this story!