There's a scream, and it's coming from a first year Hufflepuff.

"He's dead!" She sobs. "He's dead!"

The Great Hall erupts into chaos as people fly to their feet and begin a mad rush to the door, perilously close to trampling the girl. Just in time, McGonagall grabs her and drags her out of harm's way.

"Stop this!" McGonagall shouts. She's ignored. She has not Dumbledore's authority, and the students won't obey her now. They're too excited by the prospect of finally seeing a victim who's dead.

"Got tired of petrifying them, eh, Potter?" Someone mutters.

"Oh, bugger off!" Draco breaks in before Potter can say a word. The older student glares and looks as if he'd like to protest such treatment, but the crowd separates them again before he can. Potter presses closer to Draco, trying not to become isolated himself. Truly, he's not even sure that he wants to see the dead body, but he has to know if this is something that he's done.

Of course, he soon realizes, it was a bit silly to think that he'd actually get to see anything. Not everyone could fit into the Hufflepuff Common Room, let alone an individual's dormitory. Besides, it's not as if any of the head of houses will let them inside.

"Go back to your dorms!" McGonagall demands, finally regaining control of the mob. "Today's classes are cancelled."

"I wonder what all the fuss is about," Draco mutters as they make their way back to the dungeons. "Who do you think is doing all of this? If it's not you, I mean."

"I don't know," Potter tells him. But he does have an idea, and this seems like a good a time as any to find out. Momentarily leaving the body on autopilot and ducking inside, he demands, where have you been?

I don't owe you a report on every facet of my life, Tom responds mildly.

When someone's been found dead, I'd rather like to know that you weren't somehow responsible, yes!

Tom stares at him coldly. I promised you that I wouldn't use the Basilisk again. Do you doubt me?

Potter doesn't respond. The answer, after all, can be nothing but yes.

Aiming to distract himself, Potter turns back to Draco. "Well, it looks like we've got the rest of the day to ourselves. What do you want to do?"

Draco looks like he's going to answer, but then his eyes slip behind Potter, and he frowns. "What's he doing here?"

Potter wants to say that it shouldn't be unusual to see one's head of house in his own Common Room after there's been a death, but Snape's eyes have locked onto his, and he knows that there's more to this then just delivering a message. Sighing, Potter's up and walking over to the professor before Snape can even open his mouth. Snape approves this with a forceful nod, and Potter follows him out into the dungeons. Potter's not surprised when their path takes them to the basement.

"Professor," he insists, hanging back a few steps, "I swear, it wasn't—"

"I know, Harry," Snape says, swallowing heavily. "Just look."

More worried than before, Potter follows Snape into the Hufflepuff's dorm. The boy's roommates are there with McGonagall and Professor Sprout, but only dull horror shines in their eyes, not malice or fear. Then Potter sees why.

The boy- Nitin, if that's what his roommate just whimpered- isn't petrified. He's hanging from a noose.

"What—?"Potter manages to choke out. His hands automatically try to form protective fists, but his fingers feel numb and won't cooperate. Potter can feel himself beginning to dissociate, and he desperately hopes that they won't switch now. What does this have to do with him?

"I believe that you need to see this, Mr. Potter," McGonagall says gravely, handing him a small piece of paper: Nitin's suicide note.

Words swim before Potter's eyes, and he can't read it. Certain words, however, pierce through his defenses: Lockhart… hurt so badly… found the Basilisk… just wanted to make it stop… didn't want to hurt anyone…couldn't control it… sorry… so sorry…

He can't make himself go back and reread what he missed. In fact, he can't do anything at all.

Potter faints.

XXXXX

When he comes to, Snape is looking at him so oddly that he knows that someone else has been out in his absence.

"Who?" He asks before his mouth becomes too dry for him to make any more sound. Snape wordlessly passes him a glass of water, shaking his head.

"You seem quite drawn to hiding under tables, Potter."

Potter just nods, mildly relieved that Snape doesn't care to try to differentiate them. Then another thought strikes him. "Did anyone else notice?"

"You were removed from the room while still in a daze. Your fellow classmates were themselves too upset to notice. You didn't fall to hysterics until I had brought you to my classroom."

Potter nods and finishes the water, stalling for time. Oh, please don't ask…

"Potter… did Lockhart…?"

No. No. The answer is no. No, he did nothing, nothing happened, we're fine, we…

To his horror, Potter feels himself shutting down. Emotions flash through him: terror battling with fury; the need to protect Lockhart battling with the need to protect themselves; self hatred and feeling like they deserved it battling with the sickening knowledge that their silence allowed others to be hurt, as well. Potter stares at a spot somewhere over Snape's left shoulder and says nothing.

Suddenly, Snape's arms are around him. If Potter wasn't frozen before, he is now, but Snape doesn't seem to notice. He's off in his own world at the moment. Potter barely hears him breathe, "I promised her that I would protect you. I'm so sorry."

XXXXX

The whispers follow him wherever he goes, but he's gotten good at not hearing them. He already knows what's being said. Some are still blaming him for somehow bewitching the other student into taking on the blame for the attacks. Some are convinced that the real culprit isn't a student at all but has the power to posses them and wreak havoc through ancient dark magic. Some know that the attacks are behind them, and they're more worried about the allegations of sexual abuse that are making the rounds. Ginny seems a popular target of attention for this last group. She resolutely denies any allegations of her involvement, but she seems increasingly distraught every time anything that could be related to the subject is brought up, and everyone now knows how withdrawn and nervous she was becoming even before the killer was (supposedly) revealed. Her brothers, at least, seem convinced, and they won't let her out of their sight. Or perhaps that's not their doing? The letters that Mrs. Weasley sent in nearly flooded the Great Hall. The only thing that distracted her from her fury that her daughter was hurt was her fury that the man who allowed it would soon be returning to Hogwarts. In that regard, only Tom's bitter loathing is more all consuming.

Potter ignores all of it, though he's long given up on the idea of being ignored in return. He's not sure how so many people discovered his involvement in the Lockhart mess, and it bothers him more with every passing day. He's more than tired of this strange mess of sympathy and disgust that's directed his way. He can only hope that with the school year winding down, he'll soon make his escape. Perhaps next year, no one will remember the troubles of this year. He'll return to being Dumbledore's Golden Boy, nothing more and nothing less. He wishes that he, too, could move on from everything that's happened. The only thing that gives him any comfort is that knowledge that, in a few hours time, his closest friend will be returned to him; Hermione will be unpetrified.

When the time comes, he and Ron are in the Hospital Wing waiting. A few others are there, sitting by their own friends and waiting with baited breaths to see life return to them. Watching Madame Pomfrey slowly make her way down the row of hospital beds is almost too much. By the time that it's Hermione's turn, Potter and Ron are practically mental with stress.

Even after the Mandrakes are applied, there's a moment where Hermione's heart still refuses to beat, and Potter's own heart about stops with terror. But then some color returns to her pale face, and she blinks a bit. Her eyes open slowly, and the emotions that flash through them are unreadable. She turns to Potter and—

"Oh, Harry, thank goodness! I was so afraid that they would get you next!"

Before either he or Ron can say anything, she's flown out of the bed and locked her arms tightly around Potter's neck.

"At least her muscles are working alright," someone notes with dry amusement, but Potter's more distracted by Hermione's low whisper.

"I don't know who's behind it, but I swear that I won't let them blame you for this." Then she's pulling back, returning to her hospital bed, blushing a bit.

"Sorry… oh, hello Ron."

Ron looks more than slightly affronted by that, and Potter pulls a smile onto his face at his friend's antics. Internally, however, he can't help the slight panic. That's right. Someone was behind this, had been behind it even before they'd met Tom. Had Nitin really been possessed, then? Had he attacked all of these students under Tom's guidance? The thought makes Potter sick as he's again forced to recall his compliant friendship with a would-be murderer.

It slips his mind entirely that Tom had mentioned that the one with access to his journal was a girl.

Then everyone is awake, and questions are being asked about who petrified everyone, and Hermione's quickly jumping to Harry's defense as subtly as she can. Potter knows how unlikely it was that she was able to see her attacker before the Basilisk got to her- really, no one seems to know who was behind it all- so her absolutely insistence that he not be blamed is a bit touching. He'd like to stay and tell her so and to describe everything that happened in her absence, but he could never open up in front of so many witnesses, and besides, it's not much longer before Madame Pomfrey is demanding that the recovering victims be left alone to heal.

Some of the friends of the victims huddle together in small groups as they walk back to their dorms, as if frightened that whatever hurt their friends will return and get them next, but Ron and Potter both quickly split apart and proceed alone. Potter appreciates the solitude, really. It's a nice break from the usual annoyances of dealing with people.

Of course it doesn't last long.

"What are you doing outside your dorm at this hour, Potter?"

Potter looks up in amazement. "Daphne, you're in no place to judge. I was at the hospital wing to watch my friend wake up. What are you doing out here?"

A smile settles on her face, but it's the most bitter smile he's ever seen.

"Waiting for you, of course."

"Well, congrats," Potter says, sidestepping her to approach the dungeons. "I'm here."

"Yes, you are." Then: "I know what you did."

"Oh?" Potter grits out. "Enlighten me. I haven't been able to get a straight answer myself, you see."

Suddenly, her hands are on his shoulders, and he finds himself whirled around to face her. His wand is in his hand within a moment, but wild though her face may be, she doesn't look ready to attack him. Not physically, at least.

*TW for mentions of sexual abuse, victim blaming*

"You fucked Lockhart… You filthy, fucking whore." She pushes him back, and, shocked as he is, he almost falls to the floor. The disdain in her eyes is almost palpable. Suddenly, he's furious.

"Getting raped by a grown man twice my age makes me a whore, does it?"

"Raped!" She scoffs. "As if you didn't like it. You can't fool me, you know. No, you can fool every other blind fool at this damn school, but I know the truth. You liked it. You're no better than me, you miserable little creep…"

"Daphne… Oh god…" Potter whispers, suddenly feeling a lot less angry and a lot more full of pity. As if absorbing his lost anger, Daphne's face alights with rage.

"Don't you dare, Potter. Dumbledore's precious golden boy, miracle worker of the school… you're lying to yourself just as much as you try to lie to me. Oh, I know what you're thinking. 'Oh, Daphne, it wasn't your fault! Oh, Daphne, children never know what they're doing!' Except when they do. You and me both, Potter, we asked for this. We wanted it, begged for it. I don't know what you're trying for with this innocent act of yours now, but you sure seemed knowing and willing then. Don't even start with me, Potter. You're just as bad as I am."

For a moment, they stare at each other in silence. Another grim smile tugs at her lips. "Tell a single soul, and I promise that you'll come to regret it."

And she leaves him.

And he wants nothing more than to die.

XXXXX

A/N: As always, thanks to all who read, reviewed, favorite, and subscribed! Sorry for the late update; finals were a bitch to study for.

Insanely-Yours96: They still know what happened with Lockhart (though only one really holds the memories), but none of them are aware of what happened in the Chamber, no.

Lexisfightingrobots: Even if Harry chooses to disappear inside for a little while, he can still return when he feels ready or deems it necessary.

Thanks as well to . , Michy Drarry Shipper, biblioholic, Vanessa Oliveira, and especially to katerena for the reviews!

As for the anonymous reviewer who likes to swear a lot, I find it quite interesting how you remarked how no one would read this… on chapter 1 of book 2. I suppose you're a bird brain, by your own admission, then? :)