Friends

How many of us have them?

Friends

Ones we can depend on

Friends

How many of us have them?

Friends

Before we go any further, let's be

Friends

~ Friends x Whodini

Chapter 38: New and Old Friends

After the feast, Dumbledore returned to his office. He looked out the window—another year gone. The days were getting darker, slowly but surely. The secrets were starting again—the lying. It wasn't just the dark side that had their flaws. Never would he thought he would have to lie to a child. Never did he think he would have to allow the most dangerous wizard on Earth raise the savior of them all. Everything was starting to feel like it did those many years ago—yet so many people chose to ignore it.

"So!" said a voice, followed by the sound of a door bursting opened.

The old wizard turned around, coming face-to-face with Lucius Malfoy. The blonde man was fuming and by his side was his house elf, Dobby, along with Draco. The elf held his head and shame, cowering behind his master. Draco, however, looked as furious as his father—for what reason, Dumbledore did not know.

"You've come back." Lucius spat. "The governors suspend you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

Dumbledore smiled at the man. "Good evening, Lucius. I see your trial with the Wizengamot went well."

"Trial?" The man scoffed. "That hardly seems to be any of your business."

"Correct you are, Lucius. But you see, the other eleven governors contacted me today. Word got around that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been taken down into the Chamber or Secrets and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job—Fudge even agreed."

Lucius went red, but Dumbledore didn't react to his anger.

"Very strange tales they told me, too…stories of red portfolios, several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

The blonde man went pale, his body tensing. Draco looked worse—his father had blackmailed the school governors into suspending Dumbledore. But why? Didn't he realize the school would be in danger without the headmaster there?

"So—have you stopped the attacks yet?" His father sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed we have."

"Well? Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius." The headmaster then threw the damaged diary on his desk, watching as Malfoy Senior went even paler at the sight of it. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

Draco had a strong feeling that his father had something to do with this—the way he paled at the sight of the diary. It was the same as Ginny's, though he hid it better than she. His feelings were confirmed when he felt a slight tug on his robes. He looked down to notice it was Dobby, who kept pointing from the diary to Lucius.

"I see…" The blonde man said slowly.

Dumbledore smiled once more. "A clever plan, I must say. Because if Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley hadn't discovered this book, why—Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will…"

Draco watched as his father stood there, frozen-like. His face had returned to its usual sophisticated gesture, but the blonde Slytherin knew better. Dumbledore had figured him out.

"And imagine, what might have happened then…The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle- borns…Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise…"

Lucius sniffed. "Very fortunate, indeed."

Dumbledore was still smiling. "But what's interesting, Lucius, is how you were able to slip the diary inside Ginny Weasley's cauldron at Flourish and Blotts."

The blonde man went pale once more, his hands tightening around his cane. "I did no such thing. And if that was true, there is no proof."

"Correct you are again, Lucius. But I would advise you not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you…or even worse, you may even endanger the life of your own son."

Draco jumped as his father grabbed the back of his robe, clenching the fabric tight.

"No situation of that nature will occur," Lucius sneered. "Because Draco will no longer be attending Hogwarts."

The blonde Slytherin felt his heart drop, and by the way the headmaster looked at him, he might've heard it. Leave Hogwarts? No! He didn't want to leave. All his friends were here—Hermione was here.

"I meant what I said, Dumbledore," His father continued. "You aren't fit to lead this school and my son will not be a victim of your poor leadership."

Dumbledore's face did not falter, and for a moment, Draco believed that the old wizard was actually going to let his father take him from Hogwarts.

"As that may be, the other school governors have voted otherwise. The attacks have stopped. All the victims and Miss Weasley are safe. There is no reason to take him, Lucius."

The headmaster then looked at Draco, whose stomach was churning—afraid of what was to come next.

"But it doesn't matter what we think. The decision solely depends on Draco—this is his education, after all. Wouldn't you agree, Lucius? That the children come first?"

Lucius Malfoy looked hard at his son, and Draco tried hard not to show how bad he wanted to stay at the wizard school. He didn't want to disappoint him, but at the same time, he didn't care how his father felt. He was the reason they were all in this situation in the first place.

His father's face went stony. "Draco, would you like to stay at Hogwarts?"

The question was simple. Yes or No, Draco. But the blonde Slytherin could find the words to say either. It was so simple, yet so complicated.

"I agree with you father," Draco started, causing the man's face to relax a little. "that staying at Hogwarts may endanger my life, but I cannot ignore the fact that the educational curriculum at Hogwarts has done me a great service so far. And for that reason, I wish to stay."

He turned back to look at Dumbledore, who was smiling at him.

"Spoken like a true Slytherin." The headmaster said. "Well, there you have it Lucius."

The blonde man sighed, seeing as he had lost this battle. For a moment, he believed his son was about to side with Dumbledore, but he remembered the sole purpose of why the Dark Lord even allowed the heirs to attend the school. He returned his stare back to the old wizard.

"And so it is." He said promptly. "We're going, Dobby!" He then faced his son one last time. "I will see you at home tomorrow, Draco."

Lucius Malfoy then spun on his heel and walked out of the headmaster's office, Dobby at his heels. As the door opened, Draco flinched at the sound of Dobby's squealing—his father had kicked him through the door. Even as his father continued down the corridor, he could still hear the house elf's pained squeals.

Draco then snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot. Professor, may I return my father his diary?"

"Certainly, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore responded. He then handed the blonde Slytherin the damaged leather book. As soon as it touched Draco's hand, the boy sprinted out of the office, heading down the corridor to catch up with his father before it was too late.

"Father!" He breathed out, catching up to Malfoy Senior. "Dumbledore wanted me to give you this—"

He handed his father the diary, Lucius also giving the book a strange look. "What for—oh goodness—what is that awful smell?"

He opened the book, revealing a smelly sock. He frowned, throwing the sock aside. "If this is Dumbledore's idea of a joke—come on, Dobby." He started walking again- the diary gripped in his hand, but stopped again, as he didn't hear the small patter of footsteps behind him. He narrowed his eyes at the elf.

"I said, come."

Dobby ignored him, and Draco soon figured out why. The small house elf stood with the dirty sock in his hand, eyeing it as if it was the best Christmas present ever.

"Master has given a sock," He said softly. "Master gave it to Dobby."

Lucius took a step closer. "What's that? What did you say?"

"Got a sock," The house elf replied, holding up the blue and white stripped sock. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby—Dobby is free."

Draco had to suppress the smile that threatened to form on his face. He didn't care that Dobby was no longer their house elf—he was glad that his father would no longer be able to hurt him. This was better than waiting until he was fifteen to claim Dobby as his own, vowing to treat him better. Dobby was now free.

"I've had it!" His father roared, yelling down the corridor. "Mark my words, Dumbledore—you will regret this! You and the rest of your forces will all meet the same sticky end!"

Dobby then stepped forward, his face in a deep frown and his finger pointed at Lucius.

"You will not harm Dumbledore and his friends. You shall go now." His voice was lower than Draco had ever heard it. It was scary. "Leave."

Lucius Malfoy whipped out his wand. "You dare talk to your superior that way? Cru—"

There was a snap and then a loud bang. Draco watched as his father was thrown backwards down the corridor, tumbling down a few steps along the way. Draco snickered to himself before running to his father's rescue. He helped Lucius up, coming face-to-face with Dobby once more. Lucius growled at the elf, before spinning on his heel once more, exiting the corridor.

Draco turned to the elf, who was still holding the blue and white stripped sock in his hand.

"You're free now Dobby." Draco said smiling.

Dobby nodded. "Yes, Dobby is now a free elf. Thanks to Draco Malfoy."

"No, no." Draco shook his head. "That's from Dumbledore. Not me."

The elf laughed. "No, no. Dobby has done Sir Malfoy's laundry for a very long time. Dobby knows that Sir Malfoy always wears blue and white stripped socks."

The blonde Slytherin smiled again. "Well, yes that is true, but just promise me this Dobby—"

"Dobby will not tell Master Malfoy about this." The elf then raised a finger to his lips. "Dobby would never betray his friend, Draco Malfoy."

Draco nodded, holding a hand out for the elf to shake. Dobby took it eagerly, shaking Draco's hand excitedly—this was his first time ever shaking anyone's hand. Draco ruffled Dobby's ears before turning to leave the corridor. He wanted to enjoy his last day of school before the train came in the morning.

Tobias was in his room, packing the rest of his things. As he folded his sweaters, his mind was somewhere else. All this time he thought he was the only true heir of Voldemort, but his grandfather had a son. A son he never knew about. The real true heir of the Dark Lord.

There was also a prophecy, about a boy born at the end of July. A boy that would destroy his grandfather. And for some reason, the younger Tom Riddle believed it was him and Neville. Why would Tobias want to kill Lord Voldemort? Neville may have his reasons, now that he knew who Tom Riddle really was, but would Neville really do it? Would Neville, his friend, take away the only family Tobias had ever known?

"Another day, another escape from death." Theodore said, breaking into Tobias's thoughts. He held up his dirty shirt from the Chamber of Secrets. "I'm never washing this."

Tobias frowned. "Why?"

"Souvenir." The boy responded. "I have a piece of the chess board from our Philosopher's Stone incident last year."

The door opened, and Draco walked through. He looked upset, the way he didn't bother to look at the other two Slytherins in the room. This assumption was confirmed when the blonde Slytherin plopped on his bed, muffling a scream into his pillow.

"What's wrong with the royal prat of Malfoy?" Tobias teased.

"Nothing." The boy snapped back. "Unless you include my arsehole of a father, then many things are wrong."

Theodore set down his shirt. "What happened?"

"He wanted me to leave Hogwarts." He groaned, sitting up to face his cousin. "And he's the one who gave Ginny the diary. I know you knew about it, too—secretive bastard."

The black- haired Slytherin sniffed. "It was more of an assumption than actually knowing."

"Prat."

Theodore closed his trunk. "So let me get this straight. Your father gave Ginny the diary, endangered the school, got Dumbledore suspended, endangered the school even more, then tried to remove you from it?"

"Yes." Said Draco.

"Is he on drugs?"

"Theo!"

The boy shrugged. "I'm just saying. That's completely mental." Theo then held up his finger. "Isn't that right Francis?"

"Francis?" Tobias raised his eyebrow. "You still have that beetle?"

"Yes!" Theodore said defensively. "What did you think I was going to do with him?"

Draco scratched his neck. "I honestly thought he died."

"And why would you think that?"

"It's a beetle, Theo." Tobias argued. "Eventually it was going to die or run away."

"That's if you don't take care of it." Theodore shot back, raising a finger in protest. "Francis has been living off smushed vegetables and very, very small bread crumbs since the beginning of the school year."

Draco laughed. "You did all that for a bug?"

"He's not just a bug. He's Francis. My beetle friend."

"Theo," Tobias laughed. "It's just a bug."

"You two have no compassion for animals."

The next morning on the train, Ginny sat in her compartment alone. Word spread quickly that she was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. The reactions to this news was different with every house. The Slytherins seemed to oddly respect her; The Hufflepuffs were forgiving but none them stayed long to chat; The Ravenclaws, except Luna, never paid much attention to her anyway, and probably never would now they knew she was the reason their Prefect was petrified. The Gryffindors, however, treated her as if she had never done the bidding of Tom Riddle. That she was grateful for, but she knew things were going to awkward.

Who would want to be friends with the girl who set a giant snake on the loose in Hogwarts? Who petrified one of her own friends and many more? Everyone knew her name now. Ginny Weasley, the girl who opened the Chamber of Secrets. She closed her eyes as she laid her head against the seat—she needed a break.

There was a knock, and the red-haired girl opened her eyes again. She turned her head, finding a smirking Blaise Zabini standing in the compartment doorway.

"Well, if it isn't the famous Ginny Weasley." He teased.

The girl narrowed her eyes. "Blaise Zabini, the manipulative little git."

"Touché'." He then looked around the compartment. "Mind if I sit?"

The girl shrugged. "Sure."

Blaise stepped inside the compartment, sitting across from the Gryffindor. She didn't know it, but his heart was beating ten times faster than usual and he felt like he was sweating bullets. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life. He loved her red hair, her brown eyes. He barely even knew her, and he would do anything for her. Stepping inside the Chamber of Secrets with his worst enemies was proof.

"I have a question." Ginny said, and Blaise felt his heart drop.

He dusted off his trousers. "Ask away."

"You hate my brother and my brother hates you, right?"

"I wouldn't say hate." Blaise answered. "There's nothing to really hate about your brother. No offense-"

Ginny laughed. "None taken."

"—but yes, I'm not particularly fond of him."

The girl nodded, but Blaise knew that wasn't her only question. He could see it in her face that she was pondering something else.

"So why did you help them come save me?"

"The school was about to close," The boy shrugged, sticking to the same answer he told LeStrange and the rest.

Ginny frowned. "You don't honestly think I'm that thick, do you?"

"Well," Blaise said promptly, smirking once more. "You did allow You-Know-Who to trick you into opening the Chamber of Secrets."

"Touché."

Blaise laid down on the compartment seat, the flats of his shoes pressed against the train wall.

"Okay, another question." Ginny spoke again. "How did you even know that I was down there?"

"Rule number one," said the tan Slytherin. "I know everything."

The girl smirked. "So you're a creepy, eavesdropping manipulative little git?"

"I'm a man of many talents."

"You sound like Theodore Nott."

Blaise frowned. "I'd rather be an eavesdropping, manipulative little git."

The Gryffindor laughed. "Don't forget creepy."

"Yes, I suppose." Blaise chuckled. He put his hands behind his head. "But I have a question for you, Miss Wealsey."

"And that is?"

The Slytherin then sat up. "Why are you sitting here—alone- while all your friends are sitting in a compartment at the front of the train?"

The girl went silent then, and Blaise knew he asked a sensitive question. He frowned.

"You don't have to answer. I didn't—"

"No, it's fine." Ginny said softly. "I just wanted to be alone. People don't think I notice, but I'm being treated differently. Everyone just sees me now as the girl who opened the Chamber of Secrets. My brothers treat me like I'm fragile."

Blaise smiled softly. "I wouldn't treat you differently."

"Easy for you to say. The Slytherin house basically loves me now."

"That's not what I meant." the Slytherin laughed. "I mean, if you got trapped in another Chamber, I'd come to save you. Every time, no matter what you did before."

"Why?"

"Well, one," Blaise held up a finger. "We're both one in the same. The infamous duo. Ginny Weasley, releaser of the Basilisk and Blaise Zabini, Hogwarts's manipulative little git."

Ginny smiled a little. "And two?"

"And two, friends never turn their backs on friends."

"So we're friends now?" Ginny said as she crossed her arms.

"Is there a problem with that?" The Slytherin smirked.

"Well, one," Ginny held up a finger, mocking Blaise. "My brother hates you. Two, your worst enemy has a crush on me. Three, I'm a Gryffindor, you're a Slytherin—"

Blaise crossed his arms. "That one doesn't count. Granger and Malfoy—"

"-and four, I'm a Weasley, and you're a Zabini."

Blaise frowned, seeing as she stated good reasons for why they couldn't be friends. Things would get complicated—they couldn't be as opened as Granger and Malfoy.

"So that's a 'no'?" He said, defeated.

"Are you kidding?" Ginny smirked deviously, which made Blaise extremely uncomfortable. "I think it's a wonderful idea."

At the front of the train, the six friends were reunited in their train compartment. Hermione sat in the middle of Draco and Neville, while Theodore, Ron, and Tobias sat on the other side. Neville and Tobias had just finished telling her about their discussion with Dumbledore the night before.

"So, just so we're clear." Hermione started, holding her fingers to her temple. "Lord Voldemort is Tobias's grandfather, meaning that you three are the heirs of Lord Voldemort. He also has a son that Tobias doesn't know about. And there's a prophecy about a boy born at the end of July who is meant to destroy him?"

The three heirs stared at each other before staring back at her. "Yes." They said in unison.

"Why does this always happen when I'm not around?"

Theodore shrugged. "Stick around more often."

"I was petrified!"

"Which could have been avoided." Theo argued back.

She bushy- haired Gryffindor ignored him. "So what do you think Tobias?"

"About you being petrified?" He the boy asked, confused.

"About your grandfather having a son!"

Tobias scratched the back of his neck. "Oh yeah, that. Well, I was just going to—I was thinking that-"

"No." Draco shook his head.

"You don't even know what I'm about to say!"

The blonde Slytherin crossed his arms. "You want to go find him. Voldemort's son."

"What!" Hermione screeched. "Tobias, no. You heard Dumbledore, no one knows where he is. There could be a reason that your grandfather didn't tell you."

Ron frowned as well, looking towards Draco. "How did you even figured that out?"

"Body language." Draco shrugged.

Theodore nodded. "Observation one-o-one." Tobias nodded in agreement.

"That doesn't matter." Hermione said through gritted teeth, shooting a hard look at Draco, who cowered under her. "What matters is that there is a better way to find out who Voldemort's son is, instead of going out looking for a ghost. What about school?"

"Well seeing as we don't have a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Theodore said. "School is the least of my worries."

"Dumbledore said he was contacting an old friend, to teach us." Neville said.

Draco snorted. "I hope it isn't another bloke like Lockhart."

Theo slapped his hands to his face. "What if it's a werewolf?"

"Theo, why would Dumbledore hire a werewolf to teach us?" asked Tobias.

"Are we really asking that question?"

Hermione groaned, banging her head on the back of the seat. "Why can't we ever have a decent conversation?"

"We usually only have those when we're about to die or someone else is about to die." Draco answered.

Ron nodded. "Pretty much."

"But in other news," Theodore said cheerfully, moving his feet to sit crisscross on the seat. "I found out Percy's little secret."

"How?" asked Neville.

Theodore smiled dropped. "My betrothed is the biggest gossiper in school. I literally know everything—even when I don't want to."

Ron waved his had irritably. "Yeah, yeah. But what's Percy's secret?"

"Percy has a girlfriend."

Draco's mouth fell opened. "What? Who?"

"The Ravenclaw prefect." Theo continued. "Word is Ginny caught them kissing in an empty classroom. Now it makes sense why he was so upset when she got petrified."

Draco was still frowning. "I'm still stuck on the part where Percy has a girlfriend."

"Me too." Neville said. "Are we talking about the same Percy?"

Ron snapped his head at the two. "Why is it so hard to believe my brother has a girlfriend?"

"Ron," said Tobias. "It's Percy."

"Touché'."

That night, Remus Lupin was standing on the balcony of his apartment in Muggle London. This was the safest place for him. He didn't have a job and he had no muggle friends, so there was no issue when it came to running away to the woods when his "condition" came up. It was the perfect life for a werewolf.

But that would all end today.

He held the letter from Dumbledore in his hand. They had caught the culprit behind the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny Weasley. That part threw him for a loop—Arthur and Molly must've been crushed. But what shocked him the most was the fact that Dumbledore asked him to come teach at Hogwarts. As the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He would've easily accepted, had not Quirrell died a year ago and now Lockhart was suffering from irreparable memory loss.

But on the other hand, this was his chance to really return to the wizarding world. To have an actual job—to be the Remus Lupin he strived to be when he was Hogwarts. He always wanted to be a teacher, but with his condition— after James, Sirius, and Peter—he gave up on it. He looked up at the starry night sky—he closed his eyes, breathing in the fresh air of London.

His eyes snapped opened, a sound coming from the kitchen. The slight clinking of a glass—an advantage of being a werewolf, super- hearing. He whipped out his wand, stepping slowly back into his apartment. Nobody knew he stayed here—only Dumbledore. He perked up his ears, his nostrils opened for a smell. He caught one, a familiar one—but no it couldn't be.

He snapped his head towards the dark hallway, which was barely lit by the moonlight outside. Someone had just walked by—no, something just walked by. He stepped lightly, his wand still at ready. He walked into the next room, the living area. There was no smell of smoke, so the floo hadn't been used. The smell was getting stronger. He shook his head. No. It can't be. His nose was playing tricks on him. Like it always did, when he missed them.

He stopped, seeing a pair of black boots hanging off his sofa. Whoever it was, seemed comfortable breaking into his home. Who could be so cocky? This gesture reminded him of someone—but he wiped that feeling from his mind. Whoever this was, they would regret it.

He stepped slowly around the sofa, where the intruder couldn't see him. His breath caught as he saw that black hair—that familiar black messy hair. He seemed frozen as his eyes met those familiar gray ones. He had more tattoos—if that even was him. And he was skinner that he was before—those 12 years before.

"What's the matter, Moony?" The intruder said, a teasing smirk appearing on his lips. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Author's Note: Super short chapter, but hey, the Chamber of Secrets is done. The original plot belongs to the one and only J.K. Rowling, and all changes and additions belong to yours truly. I want to thank all my wonderful followers who have stuck with me since the beginning, and all the ones who joined along the way. You guys keep me going! Prisoner of Azkaban will be coming soon! So stay tuned.

Oh yeah! Follow, Fav, and Review!

~TheeStoryTeller