Author's Note:
Trying to force myself to write a little bit each day. The amount of time I have available for writing has certainly improved and I got this out faster than I thought. Hopefully this progress continues and perhaps I will be able to give significant attention to both stories now.
Here is my disclaimer that says I do not own anything Harry Potter related. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, except in universe 47837. Probably.
Justin's fingertips gently traced the edges of Harry's hands that were exerting just enough pressure on top of his chest to keep him pinned to the bed. Of course, Justin didn't mind the position that he found himself in one bit.
Harry's beauty was beyond compare and with each passing year it seemed that he became more magnificent as he filled out in all of the right places. Justin couldn't help but wonder just how much more sinful his leader would become if this was what sixteen looked like on him.
Imagine what Harry's twenties would bring!
However, the fact that Harry was currently straddling him disrupted Justin's musings into the fallen angel that Harry was no doubt on his way to becoming.
But again, Justin didn't mind and relished the attention that Harry, his Harry, was giving him. The feeling of Harry's weight on top of his own hips with Harry's knees also pressing into his sides, which further restricted his ability to move on the bed, was simply put: euphoric.
In fact, this was Justin's opinion of pure and utter bliss and was how he felt each and every time that Harry bathed him in his magic. That too had only grown in strength as Harry continued on his way to greatness.
Honestly, the smaller boy could look into those shinning, emerald green eyes all day, knowing that they were the eyes of his leader. Justin couldn't think of anything besides how lucky he was that Harry was his to follow and his to serve.
"You are the most important thing to me," Justin intoned in the most serious voice that he had ever used.
Harry's only response was to claim Justin's lips.
"I would do anything for you," Justin breathed heavily once their mouths parted.
"I know," Harry said simply.
He was looking at Justin like he always did, like he was taking care of what he owned; and though Justin didn't have to say anything that Harry didn't already know, he did.
"My body is your body, and my wand is your wand. I am yours to use, Harry; to command!" Justin declared before pulling Harry down on top of him.
Harry responded by shifting his body weight and pushing Justin further into the bed.
"I will," Harry promised, unleashing his magic and letting it flow into Justin.
Justin shivered as he gave into the ecstasy of Harry's dominating power, which had increased a hundred fold over the five years that he had known him.
There was no inch on or in Justin's body that Harry's magic couldn't reach. Their clothes disappeared soon after that.
"You are mine forever," Harry made clear before claiming him fully.
The statement was simple, effective, and the truth, even if that particular scene hadn't actually happened and was just one of many dreams that Justin had had of the two of them in the future. This particular one, however, had become Justin's most cherished and protected memory.
Which was exactly what Harry had told each boy to hide from him before testing out the strength of both of their levels of Occlumency.
While Harry had been pleased with how far they had progressed in the Mind Arts over the past month under his tutelage, the memories that both of them had chosen to hide from him had surprised him somewhat.
Their level of devotion to him was more intense than he had believed a person was capable of at their young age. But both Neville and Justin had clearly felt it important to select these as their most private and vivid memories that contained an emphatic statement of just how far they were willing to go for him.
And both had wanted Harry to know it, not even caring about the intimate look into their soul that revealed that Harry did in fact own them.
Though, Neville had chosen to express his loyalty in a different way and Harry was in fact quite proud that Neville had managed to uncover the torment of Phineas and Icarus that he himself had hidden from the boy. As it turned out, Neville hadn't even quivered when he had rediscovered what those older Slytherins had done to him; he was too intent on seeking retribution to make Harry proud.
Of course, that wasn't where the memory that Neville had hid from Harry had ended, for Neville also wanted Harry to know that he would serve him until his last breath for helping him through the first year and protecting him until he could defend himself. The scene, that was now a part of one of Neville's memories, of him standing in front of the memory that Harry had hid in his own mind and declaring forcefully – both to himself and to Harry now – was that he owed a wizard's debt to Harry.
And neither boy had flinched away when Harry had discovered these things in their secret training room one night during the first week of October of their second year at Hogwarts.
In their minds it was freeing to know that Harry would forever understand just how much he meant to them and how increasingly thankful they were that Harry had chosen them to go through life with.
It didn't even make Harry uncomfortable with that extreme level of attachment that they had; it just reassured him that accepting his boys into his life and deciding to train them had been the right decision.
"Well, that was certainly interesting," Harry acknowledged to both of them in turn.
Neville's commitment to him made sense, and Harry had had no doubt that the boy would have been by his side forever in gratitude for taking care of him until he could fend for himself. Of course, Neville also had deep love for Harry and respect for what he stood for, but it wasn't the kind of love that Justin had.
For that boy was in love with everything that Harry was or would become, with care and affection on a level which Harry just had to admit that he just didn't quite understand. But Harry accepted it without question because Justin's memory had made it clear to him that there was no expectation or hope of returning those feelings.
Anyways, Justin would freely admit that he was in love with Harry, and he would also freely admit that Harry was on a level very high above him. The important thing in Harry's mind was that Justin's love also transcended the physical component, however, and he received much more satisfaction and contentment from Harry in the attention that he received by being able to remain at his side. There was no doubt in Justin's mind just how lucky he was to be able to learn some of things that Harry had and would teach him in the years to come.
No one else had this opportunity that Neville and Justin did.
So it didn't matter to Justin that Harry would never return his affection in that way. The only thing that mattered to Justin was that Harry did love him in his own way and that his leader would do anything to protect him – he was sure of it.
Neville and Justin belonged to Harry.
The pair sat across from Harry in silence as they waited for their leader to take it all in. Small balls of blue fire illuminated the room and also framed Harry perfectly where he sat in the middle of their secret place.
But Harry didn't need that long to consider what he had seen, and he soon eyed Neville over before moving onto Justin.
"You each have come very far in such a short time. I think only a few more months of keeping this up and you will both be quite advanced in the Mind Arts."
His praise caused the same grin to appear on both of their faces.
""In fact," Harry uttered, "I think it only fair on this occasion for me to share something with you."
Of course he had no intention in revealing the prophecy just yet since he would wait until he was positive that neither would let that secret be taken from their minds.
However, Harry did genuinely care for both Neville and Justin and whatever power that had brought and held them together made it easier for Harry to share some of his secrets with them.
Therefore the rest of their time in their training room was spent reviewing how Harry had handled Icarus and Phineas, and both Neville and Justin took mental notes. Neither had been surprised with how advanced Harry was and each was eager to begin learning how to wield magic like that for themselves; if only to support and ensure that Harry succeeded.
Neville, in particular, had taken great delight in watching the silent pain that both of his bullies had endured and the smile on his face as they prepared to leave their lair and return to Hufflepuff was practically predatory.
In fact, Neville was so emboldened by his continued increase in confidence that he decided to ask a rare question.
"Harry, are you any closer to figuring out what has been causing our magic to flair? I feel it sometimes on our way to class. It isn't as strong as it was in the bookstore or during the Welcoming Feast, but it is there; I'm sure of it."
Harry kept walking at his usual pace that put him just slightly in front of Neville and Justin.
"I think I have ruled out anyone or anything from Ravenclaw," Harry replied quietly.
"Oh," Justin called from behind, sharing a look with Neville.
"Yes, for while you two have been practicing your Occlumency, I have spent the past month waiting outside of the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower."
"That makes sense," Neville responded while Justin shook his head in agreement.
They both had understood the rationale behind Harry's waiting game to catch whomever or whatever made them feel indescribable.
"Although, there was one particular first-year girl who felt different than everyone else did. Though, I'm not really sure why. The only way I can think to describe it is that her magical energy was just not the same that other people give off."
Harry slowed his pace and turned to look at Neville and Justin, who stopped at once.
"Your magic," Harry pointed with his hands out in front of both of the other boy's chest, "comes off in steady pulses."
As if to demonstrate what he meant, Harry then directed his magic to mingle with that of his boys.
Almost immediately their eyes took on the familiar glaze and their mouths parted just slightly.
However, each boy felt the distinct waves pulsating out of the center of their chest to meet with the much stronger rhythms that emanated from Harry.
"See what I mean?" Harry asked suddenly in a soft voice.
Just as abruptly, the delightful sensation of being connected to something so much more than they could ever hope to be by themselves left them.
"Yeah," Justin managed to get out before adding, "there is a pattern to the magic that comes from our core."
Harry nodded his head forward, earning a small grin from Justin.
"Did she not have a rhythm then?" Neville then astutely inquired.
Which earned a second incline of Harry's head and another small smile from Neville this time.
"She didn't have a rhythm at all," Harry said as his brows scrunched together tightly.
"I would almost say that she is a different type of magical being all together."
And then Harry turned and began to walk again towards Hufflepuff.
"So which house will you explore next?" Neville carried on the conversation.
Except that Harry wasn't paying any attention to what Neville had said. His body had frozen in place and Neville and Justin bumped into him, though they knew better than to ask silly questions and immediately drew their wands without another thought.
"Kill... eat… kill again," a strange and ancient voice sounded in Harry's ears.
His senses were on alert and the magic that he normally kept very close to his center was let loose in all directions. It didn't matter that Dumbledore or Snape might detect him and learn what he was truly capable of in this instant when Harry believed that whoever had said those words had meant them with such force that a chill had gone down his spine.
At once he knew that there was a very real possibility that they were in danger.
"Master says strike!" the voice roared louder this time.
It seemed very close and in response Harry practically dragged Neville and Justin out of the open hallway and into the closest room and threw some sort of cloak over their heads. Again the boys just went with it, still focusing their wands about them and trying to calm their minds incase they had to react. Whatever Harry had done they assumed had been some kind of advanced magic since they could feel the faint traces of magic against their skin – just as Harry had taught them to be able to recognize.
But whatever had caused Harry to react in this manner had made their blood run cold and only one thing became clear in their minds: protect Harry.
Time passed slowly in that room and only after Harry removed the cloak and placed it in his pocket did they let their guard down.
"Harry?" Neville hesitantly called and given his current state he couldn't prevent the cracking of his voice.
But there wasn't time for Harry to answer, because at that exact moment the wailing of Argus Filch reverberated throughout the castle.
"Noooooooooo!" the man's echo bounced off the walls.
Against his better judgment, Harry began to walk for the door to exit the room that he had pulled Justin and Neville into. And once opened he heard the distinct patter of feet above him. No doubt Argus' cries had alerted those still out of their common rooms to rush to his aid.
Which struck Harry as odd; hadn't they heard those ominous words promise death just moments before?
"Justin, Neville," Harry said as he began to walk forward at a clipped pace, "before I brought you into that room what did you hear?"
Harry didn't even have to look back at them to know that his suspicion had been confirmed, and that those words had not been heard by everyone.
Harry's clipped pace turned into a run as they turned and headed up the stairs.
However, they soon came to a halt where a growing group of both students and faculty were assembled around a despondent Argus Filch who was holding onto his cat.
Only his cat wasn't moving. Even its fur was stuck in place.
But that wasn't what held everyone's attention.
For behind Argus and the petrified Mrs. Norris were the words:
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE: THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS IS OPEN
As the group of onlookers began to grow with more and more people, including some who had obviously been fetched from their common room, the shocked silence had turned into worried whispers.
"The chamber is open … I thought that was a myth … where are Fred and George Weasley?" were just a few of the questions and statements that could be picked out.
Harry hung back at the outskirts of the crowd with Justin and Neville eyeing him differently than they usually did. But it wasn't because they were surprised or shocked that Harry had seemed to know that something else, something clearly important had been happening that only he had picked up on.
Both Neville and Justin were now even more committed to following Harry – even if it wasn't possible for them to be any more loyal – because he had clearly hid them away and protected them from whatever had done this to Mrs. Norris.
At that moment they completely understood that they really did belong to Harry, and Harry had just made it clear that he protected what was his.
The sobs of Filch continued as both boys looked upon Harry, not even minding that his focus was elsewhere. However, even Harry's attention was redirected when Albus Dumbledore arrived with Professors McGonagall and Snape in tow.
"Silence," Dumbledore commanded to the now worried and partially frantic crowd.
"Teachers, please escort all students back to their houses," the old man then directed calmly.
At once, the teachers began to usher the students back to their common rooms, and the magically enhanced and stern voice of Professor McGonagall firmly instructed those students loitering in other parts of the castle to do the same.
Neither Harry nor his friends made an audible comment as they were led quickly back to Hufflepuff. However, once inside their common room their voice couldn't have reached the ears of their friends even if they had tried, for everyone was up and talking quite loudly over one another.
It was clear that nothing like this had happened inside of the castle in a very, very long time.
But Harry had other ways of getting Neville's and Justin's attention. One flick of his magic at them and they soon followed him out of the common room and into their dorm room, which thankfully did not have any of their other year mates present.
Once inside, Harry led them over to his bed and retold Dobby's warning to them before getting into the mysterious voice that he had heard.
A voice that had sounded so old and had been so laced with magic that Harry was now concerned about all of their safety.
It was clear that Harry was being cautious about what had just occurred, and his last words to the pair were that they were not to go anywhere in the castle without him until whatever this was had run its course.
All that anyone could talk about over the next few days was the Chamber of Secrets and the incidence in the hallway. Indeed, it had gotten to the point where even some of the Professors discussed it openly when they thought that they were out of earshot from the students.
Anyone who knew anything about the Chamber was listened to, but the real celebrities were those who had smartly managed to go to the library and check out the two copies of Hogwarts, A History. Suddenly, the otherwise boring but informative tome was in demand and the brief paragraph devoted to what was widely considered to be a myth was now seen as fact and shared widely with each student adding there own and unique elements to the story.
Of course, Harry had known what the book had briefly mentioned in regards to the Chamber of Secrets, having read through it in his own copy before he had even set foot inside of the school soon after he had learned that he was a wizard over a year ago.
Even after what he had witnessed with Mrs. Norris and the blood letters on the wall, he would have been inclined to believe the whole thing to be an elaborate hoax. Except that he had heard what no one else had, apparently, and that made all the difference in his mind.
For nothing had chilled him to his core quite like the sound that he had heard. Not even Vernon beating him as a child had affected him like the voice had. Whatever it was had been powerful and intent on killing.
But what lingered in Harry's mind as he went through the motion of wearing the appropriate masks in his classes was a particular word that whoever it was had said.
To think that it had a master was something that made sure that Harry kept a very close eye on Neville and Justin. He didn't want them out of his sight if he could help it. Something about the way his magic felt in response to thoughts about them being hurt made him feel even colder than the hiss of that voice had.
Those two boys were now so intertwined in his life and magic that he saw them as extensions of himself, and he didn't want any part of himself to be hurt.
Which left him with a lot of time to fill with them as he put off the next phase of his plan in his quest to uncover the source of the greatest feeling that he had ever felt. But spending his evenings waiting outside of Slytherin underneath his cloak of invisibility would have to wait until he could be sure of both his and his boys' safety.
So he filled some of the time in teaching them how to feel their magic more. Harry had quickly decided that learning how to defend themselves with their wands in the rare case that he was not around – or in the even rarer case that he would need their support to face this unknown menace – was now vastly more important than completing their final stages of Occlumency.
However, he remained leery of using their secret training room at the moment since he had no desire to go up against that thing by himself if he could help it. It was prudent in his mind to not test something that he knew so very little about. Regardless of how exceptional he was with magic, it just wasn't logical to put himself and his boys in a position that they might regret with something that obviously did not want to play nice.
Therefore, Harry led Neville and Justin to the library for the rest of the week, where he made sure to select some of the more aggressively forward texts on defending oneself with what could best be described as questionably aligned magic.
His boys took up their assignments without question, and despite Hogwarts, A History currently being in vogue, that thankfully did not translate into the library becoming a suddenly hip place to be. If anything, even fewer students were now present, which Harry did not mind in the least since it would have been unusual for three, second years to be pouring over books meant for those well past their Ordinary Wizarding Levels.
And while Neville and Justin read, Harry focused on finding out just how it could have been possible for him to hear something that his friends had not. The only thing that currently made sense to him was that perhaps his magic had allowed him to hear something that was farther away. Or that it had something else to do with his advanced magical capabilities.
So he focused on reading through book after book until he was satisfied as to a possible answer. Because, in his mind, whatever allowed him to hear that person or thing could be a possible clue as to just what that person or thing was.
Now, he did have some leads without having to read anything, since he had Dobby's warning that terrible things would be happening at Hogwarts this year – and this most certainly would count as a very terrible thing to some.
Of course, Dobby's presence had reminded him of someone because of the way the elf's magic had felt. But the answer lingered on the tip of Harry's tongue and the more he tried to figure it out the more it frustrated him that he couldn't.
Harry felt like he should know the answer to this, but with everything else going on he conceded the possible point that perhaps it wasn't unreasonable for him to not know everything; even if that was a distasteful thought since he often found himself in the situation where he remembered everything that he had ever learned.
Quite vividly, in fact.
Another clue that he had – but one that others would have as well – was in finding out how living things could be petrified. What happened to Mrs. Norris and the possible cause of her apparent petrification had run rampant throughout the school, and even more so after it had been confirmed by Albus Dumbledore himself one morning at breakfast.
Of course, Harry surmised that the mysterious old wizard had only brought up the subject to help quell some of the unease that festered in the hearts of many of the students. The man had also added that because the Mandrakes that the second years were currently tending to in Herbology, a restorative potion would be able to be made shortly and cure her.
Which would have struck Harry as extremely suspicious except that he had already checked into that matter. Hogwarts had been instructing students on the care of Mandrakes for the past two hundred years, and so he gave little thought to the apparent coincidence of them repotting the very things that would restore Mrs. Norris back to the land of the living and moving around when it was very much needed.
But even Dumbledore's announcement to the school did little to put an end to the increasing curiosity over this alleged Chamber of Secrets. If anything, it only added to the remarkable stories that were passed around and changed to include slight deviations to the tale until very little of the story resembled any semblance of the truth.
Whatever that was.
It had gotten so bad that teachers would often spend the first few minutes of each and every class quieting the unruly students down. Though, to be fair, some teachers had more success than others in taking back control of their classroom.
Professor Binns hadn't even noticed anything abnormal going on, while all it took was a raised eyebrow from Severus Snape to prevent anything other than silence from rising in his classroom.
But Gilderoy Lockhart thrived in this type of situation and he could hardly contain his own excitement.
Indeed, about a week after the writing that had suddenly appeared on the wall, he gave in and spent an entire class focusing on the history of the Chamber of Secrets.
"You know naturally I could have saved that poor feline. Anti-petrification spells are tricky you see, but I just so happen to know the exact counter curse. It's tricky, mind you, and I doubt any of you would even understand the magic involved," Lockhart began to ramble on.
"What a load of dragon dung," Neville hissed under his breath to both Justin and Harry.
The rest of the class, however, had apparently forgotten – or excused – how inept of a teacher Lockhart really was. It seemed that no one had remembered the incident with the Cornish Pixies when a teacher was willingly talking about the very thing that had them so interested.
Even Ronald Weasley, who had needed to go and see Madam Pomfrey after the concussion he had suffered, was blithely following along to the man's every word.
"But I promised the Headmaster to keep a vigilant eye on the castle," the man preened from atop his desk.
His purple robes were draped around him with such care and attention that Harry would have thought the man was sitting for another of his hideous portraits.
"Never fear, no harm will befall you whilst I am around," he then soothed while striking another pose.
The two life-size portraits that Lockhart had previously festooned on either side of his desk were looking at their maker approvingly, smiling along to their favorite sound in the entire world: their own voice.
"Sir, Sir!" Lavender Brown interrupted excitedly.
The tone of her voice was pleading with the man to call on her, but she was overcome with the thrill of it all and asked her question anyways.
"What can you tell us of the Chamber of Secrets?"
If it were possible, a majority of the eyes in the room were now looking at Gilderoy with even more fascination and respect than usual. It was a sure sign that they were going to at least get something out of this man for this attention was everything that Lockhart was about.
"Very well," Lockhart began, as if he were doing them a favor.
"Now, where to began," he mused and began to stroke his chin like he was deep in thought.
Justin snorted, and Harry slightly nudged him with his elbow.
'Now is not the time,' Harry's eyes clarified for the boy.
Justin nodded solemnly and refocused his attention on Lockhart, who had begun to set the stage for whatever it was that he was about to tell them.
"I suppose this starts in the beginning, back when Dragons roamed free and neither witches nor wizards knew what a proper bath was."
He flashed the class his winning smile, while a few of the girls began to imagine what Gilderoy looked like in his bathrobe.
"Obviously we are all aware of the Founders; a collection of reasonably talented individuals who came together and formed Hogwarts many, many years ago. From what I hear it took a lot longer for them to build the castle's walls than it needed to. Sometimes I like to think how different the world would be had I been around at that time and able to speed things up…"
This time it was Harry who had to suppress his instinct to roll his eyes. In his mind Hagrid could have built Hogwarts faster with his hands than this oaf could with magic since Harry had yet to see the man actually cast anything remotely resembling what all of these students were in this castle to learn.
Eventually, though, Lockhart returned from his far-off gaze and refocused on the class and continued to tell his version of the story that was very loosely based on what Harry remembered from the pages in Hogwarts, A History.
"For many years, the running of the school went smoothly, and Hogwarts grew in renown as a great place to study magic. Some of the best and brightest joined them to impart their knowledge to the youth of the land."
That self-serving statement was of course accompanied by another one of his winnings smiles.
"However, I think that two of them did not get along very well."
At this moment the man leaned forward and pretended to whisper something to the class as if it were a secret that no one else knew.
"If you ask me, I think each were upset over the colors that they had chosen to represent their house; ghastly colors if you ask me. I think a nice purple would have gone a long way in helping to ease their tensions. Of course," he leaned back to sit up straight and his voice returned to normal, "I think it also had to do with being in the dungeons. No windows will do that to a person, you know."
Gilderoy paused to shake his head from side to side.
The comment about Slytherin having an inferior dormitory went over well with the assembled Gryffindors, who didn't mind – that much – over the sleight against their own house colors.
"And then there was something about a disagreement over which magical folk to admit into Hogwarts, but that just seems silly to me. In fact, I wish there were more students in this room."
And Harry completed that sentence in his own mind, knowing very well that Lockhart just wanted as many people to ogle at him as possible.
"I suppose this is where the Chamber of Secrets fits in," the man continued, expertly managing to weave as much about himself into the story of the chamber.
"Salazar Slytherin, you see, wanted to be more selective and so he left the school but not before creating a secret room and hiding a monster away within it. Legend tells us that this monster would be able to be controlled by Slytherin's descendants."
At this point in the tale, the room was eerily silent, and everyone except Harry and his boys had subconsciously inched ever so closer to Gilderoy.
"The heirs alone would be able to find the monster and unleash Slytherin's wrath upon the school, weeding out those who were not supposed to be there. In those days it was very important to be from an all-wizard family; they weren't as hip and inclusive as we are now."
The sentence struck Harry as singularly odd because it was very clear that the more frightened individuals within Hogwarts were the Muggleborns, while certain purebloods walked the halls with ease.
Was this man that unobservant? Or was all this an act?
"But I can tell you with certainty that there is no such thing as the Chamber of Secrets; trust me when I say that if I cannot find it then it simply does not exist."
Lockhart walked toward the front of the room.
"It was probably just a troublemaker looking to have a spot of fun," he added, though Harry wasn't buying it.
The man finished his story, not really offering anything new for the students. Except that the man was such a good storyteller and certainly knew how to keep an audience engaged that Harry was sure that it didn't matter.
Harry sincerely wanted to be there when the man lost that ability to captivate an audience, because that would certainly be a very interesting and entertaining thing to watch.
At any rate, it showed that Lockhart did know something, and it had very little – if anything – to do with him. However, that hadn't stopped the man from injecting his usual flare for drama and excitement into the story and inserting himself into the tale.
As if blood letters on the wall and a petrified cat weren't excitement enough for the man. Nevertheless, at least Harry was spared from the man's otherwise horrible teaching abilities for a single class period.
Especially since it now appeared that Lockhart had only made the class more interested in the Chamber of Secrets in order for the next thing that came out of his mouth to be even more intriguing.
"Ah, you all have managed to get me even more excited; but I can't, I was supposed to reveal this tonight," the man suddenly said.
Which had the intended effect of refocusing all eyes on him.
"You see, oh, I don't know if I can tell you just yet," he played coyly with the students.
"Tell us! Tell us! Oh, you can trust us!" cried the students.
"Well, I had planned on doing this tonight at supper, to be fair you see. But I think you could spread this for me. In fact, I'm sure you will let all of your friends and their friends know. Won't you?"
"Yes, of course. You can trust us!" replied everyone but Harry, Neville, and Justin.
Ron, in particular, had been particularly vocal about wanting to do everything that Lockhart had asked.
"Very well," Gilderoy agreed, his eyes revealing that this had been his plan all along.
"It gives me great pleasure in announcing a little extracurricular activity that I've just gotten the Headmaster's permission to start."
The man's mouth was practically salivating with anticipation.
"It would be such a waste for someone of my prodigious talents to pass through the school – even more so given the circumstances that we find ourselves in – and not at least prepare you in at least some way for the future. I am the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher after all…"
Gilderoy's words trailed off and Harry swore that he saw Lavender Brown not even sitting, for that was how far she had leaned forward to be the first to hear what the man was about to reveal.
"You see not everyone has an innate talent for defending themselves, eh Harry?" Lockhart suddenly threw the spotlight onto Harry.
Which caused a few unsavory looks to be thrown his way since it was clear that many were envious of Harry's continued form of special treatment by the man.
Thankfully, Lockhart didn't wait for a reply because Harry had no idea what his retort would have been.
Given his overall level of irritation with the addition of more things that he now had to deal with, chances were that it would not have been pretty. For Lockhart that was.
"It's necessary for each witch and wizard to be able to face the unknown and come out the other side," Lockhart then said in what to Harry was a well-rehearsed manner.
However, the rest of the class had not cottoned on to the man's modus operandi. So they were right where Lockhart had wanted them to be in a state of near frenzy now and could hardly wait until Lockhart spilled the beans, hoping that it was a much better surprise than that unfortunate episode with the Cornish Pixies.
"So that is why I am pleased to say that I am starting a little dueling club, to prepare those interested in the basics of defending themselves with a wand."
Immediately, the rest of the class began to exchange excited whispers, unable to think about anything except for the fact that the one and only Gilderoy Lockhart was going to teach them dueling.
Which Harry found to be painfully comical since the man couldn't even teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Which was just about the same fucking thing.
Though, to Gilderoy's credit, he had not really tried to teach them anything besides doing dramatic reenactments from his books.
But even those weren't going well since Gilderoy insisted on always playing himself.
Harry was honestly surprised that this entire charade was allowed to continue, but he also couldn't reconcile the fact that Dumbledore just had to have known that the man was a complete fraud.
Harry just didn't know what the Headmaster's aim was this time. Was this just another ploy to lure He-Who-Is-Not-Really-Dead out again?
Except that this was Gilderoy Lockhart and he surely didn't offer anything of value to the fallen Dark Lord… right?
Just then the bell rang and the other students raced to the door, intent on being the first to spread what surely had to be Hogwarts' latest and most interesting news.
And Lockhart couldn't help himself, leaving the room almost as quickly to witness the dissemination of news that involved him.
Which left Harry and his boys alone in the room, and allowed Harry a quick minute to explain his observations to them.
And Neville and Justin agreed with Harry's assessment as they gathered their things and headed out into the hustle and bustle of the castle, where for the hundredth time since school started they all felt that familiar, yet delectable shiver yet again.
Unlimited potential and greatness was once again pulsating against their magic, and like always it passed just as quickly as it had come.
The trio stopped to gather themselves while a giant game of telephone played out in the many halls and tall turrets of the castle doing exactly as Gilderoy had hoped that it would. For now almost every single student had first heard and then made plans to attend Lockhart's first dueling session after dinner.
But what interested Harry the most was the brief suggestion that had entered his mind on his way to dinner– identical to the feeling that had occurred last year at Christmas to go explore the Mirror of Erised – that a lesson in dueling seemed like a very good thing to do.
Thankfully, Harry had been able to keep the shock and surprise off of his face, and his Occlumency had reached the point where it was very easy to make someone entering his mind think that they were being sneaky. Of course, all of his thoughts and knowledge that he wanted to be kept secret were always locked away and so he went along with Dumbledore's suggestion.
Only now he realized that Dumbledore had been behind the dueling lessons, and that they were meant for him.
Harry entered the Great Hall with Neville and Justin on either side of him. Dinner had been fascinating; the loud chatter of excitement in anticipation for the night's event had increased steadily over the course of the meal. By the time the plates had disappeared to the kitchens below, some of the students could hardly contain themselves that they were about to get an introductory lesson into the world of dueling from none other than Gilderoy Lockhart.
Obviously not everyone present inside of Hogwarts needed an introductory lesson, since it was commonplace among the old families to prepare their progeny to survive should they find themselves in unexpected circumstances that required them to defend their family's honor. Or just to survive so that they could keep their family lines intact probably would have been more accurate.
After all, a family's legacy – be it stepped in gold and riches or not – was the most important thing to any wizarding family.
But a good majority of the school that still had yet to take their O.W.L.s were present alongside Harry and his boys, interested with the night's proceedings in one way or another.
Harry was in fact surprised that even this many had turned out given his opinion that the older students should know that Lockhart would hurt their chances of passing their exams more so than helping. Of course, that line of thinking just ended with Dumbledore allowing the man to teach in the first place, and Harry just wanted a single night where he wasn't trying to second guess the decision-making process of their esteemed Headmaster.
Therefore a quick shake of Harry's head moved that topic along and he focused on some of the other people in the room.
Only he didn't have to look very far or for very long as Cedric Diggory sauntered up to his side. Ever since that brief but important chat that the two of them had shared on their first night back in the castle, they had spoken for at least a few minutes every day. No matter how short their conversations had been it was long enough for Harry's magic to have an impact on Cedric. The older Hufflepuff had begun to look forward to running into Harry each and every day because of the sense of calm – and extreme comfort – that being in the second-year's presence provided.
Of course, Cedric didn't know how or why he reacted to Harry in the way that he did; all he knew was that being in Harry's presence felt right and that it was just the place that he needed to be if he wanted to achieve everything that he had set for himself.
To some extent, Harry was aware of what was happening because of how similar this process was to Neville and Justin becoming permanent fixtures in his life. However, because his magic was so superior to Cedric's magic he barely noticed the small amount of strength that he received while in Cedric's presence.
But Neville and Justin knew what was happening, and welcomed the addition of another person that could support and protect their Harry.
So when Cedric casually approached the trio, they moved just enough to the side to give them space while remaining within earshot should Harry have need of them.
"Hey Harry," Cedric said with a small smile.
Harry's green eyes flicked over to meet his warm gray eyes.
"Cedric!" Harry remarked in a pleasant welcome.
"How do you think this is going to go?" Cedric suddenly asked quietly.
Cedric's eyebrows raised and Harry got the underlying meaning.
"We are just here to see how badly this goes," Harry returned.
Cedric chuckled.
"I can't believe he is allowed to teach. Though, to be honest, I can't believe that the other students still haven't figured it out."
Harry shrugged.
"People see what they want to see."
It had been easier than really getting into it. Even if he was enjoying himself with Cedric, now wasn't the time to really get into it.
Cedric nodded along, though, to Harry's further clarification.
"I suppose they just have this idea of what he can do from what they have read that they just assume he's better in those settings."
"That makes sense," Cedric commented after taking Harry's words in and digesting them.
"Plus, children," he motioned at those surrounding them with a wave of his hand, "are hardly capable of realizing that an adult has lied to them."
"Aren't you a child?" Cedric said teasingly – even though he was well aware that Harry was head and shoulders above everyone else his age.
Cedric could feel it in his magic.
Harry just ignored Cedric's comment, knowing that Cedric was one of the few who saw him for what he was really capable of.
"What is your excuse?"
For a moment Cedric was caught off guard by the expert move.
But then he began to chuckle, and Harry's magic couldn't help but leak out just a little bit and captivate Cedric further.
A pleasurably sigh escaped Cedric's lips and his body briefly shivered.
Harry only became aware of what had happened because Neville and Justin had moved closer to him, and Harry then carefully drew back his power.
With the indescribable feeling of Harry's magic gone, Cedric felt the small hole that had been building within him all month grow again.
But he didn't know the ins and outs of this type of magic or else he would have been more comforted when he said goodbye and rejoined his other friends.
Because soon he would never feel incomplete ever again.
Harry also felt an uncomfortable sensation briefly rise up within him at Cedric's departure.
Except that he was thinking that it had had something to do with his unintentional use of his magic.
'I got too comfortable,' Harry thought to himself before commotion on the golden stage in front of them changed his focus.
Gilderoy Lockhart, resplendent in his flowing, purple robes had just walked onto the stage.
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" the man called to silence the crowd with his arms raised.
All eyes soon turned towards him in the excited hush that followed.
"Tonight, you are in for a real treat. I don't like to brag, but I was something of a dueling prodigy in my youth," Gilderoy said coyly while acting anything but.
Harry rolled his eyes at the man's obvious need for attention and self-validation, which was of course given by some of his more fanatical followers.
"Now dueling has a storied and bloodied history, but for tonight we are going to limit this for your safety. As such, we will only be learning disarming spells only."
Gilderoy should have seen the audible groan from the crowd coming, but he ignored the reaction and kept moving right along.
"Right, and now I shall invite my assistant onstage."
And for the rest of Harry's life he would treasure the look of disdain that graced Severus Snape's face as he took one reluctant step after the other to stand beside Gilderoy.
How Snape had ever agreed to this was irrelevant in this moment; the important thing was that for a brief moment Harry forgot about all of his other troubles and reveled in the man's misfortune.
It served Severus right for having to be Lockhart's lapdog for the evening. Even it was in name only.
Except that Harry's euphoria was short lived because it really did disturb him that Lockhart had seemingly gotten approval for this because of something to do with him.
Which probably also meant that Severus Snape had been instructed by Dumbledore to attend this under the guise of Lockhart's assistant since it was abundantly clear to Harry that Snape and the Headmaster were close. They usually sat together at most meals and could often be observed to exchange whispers when they thought that the majority of students were not paying attention to them.
But Harry didn't know why this was about him – and if had anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets, though if it didn't it was because of the plausible excuse of the chamber being open.
Again, it was just something that he would have to mull over when he had the time, but he could easily see how Dumbledore could be trying to teach Harry how to use magic in this way because of the existence of a prophecy. Certainly there were better ways to prepare Harry than Gilderoy Lockhart!
While Harry was quickly running through this new information, Lockhart had called two students up to the stage to demonstrate.
Draco was currently running circles around Ronald Weasley, despite the limited selections of spells that they had been instructed to use. The youngest Weasley was clearly out of his league, and his pitiful attempts at retaliation were embarrassing.
His feeble control of magic barely produced their desired results and more than once he had found himself on his behind, accompanied by the aristocratic chuckle of Malfoy.
Draco hadn't even broken a sweat and his magical prowess was on display, and at that moment he had then decided to ignore the repeated shouts of Lockhart to disarm only.
Except that Ronald had apparently had enough of his humiliation and retaliated with the only slightly advanced spell in his arsenal: the Vomiting Slug Curse.
But of course that missed Draco and hit Goyle instead, who immediately started upchucking the first of many green slugs.
Which didn't sit well with Draco who responded before the first slug hit the floor
"Serpensortia!" he commanded effortlessly.
It was then that a most curious thing happened as an Egyptian Cobra slithered forth into existence.
Harry, who up until now had been only half-watching the amateur display, felt a tug at his center as the snake raised its hood and hissed at suddenly finding itself in front of a red-haired human.
Only it didn't hiss.
"Maker made me to bite," it said clearly and in almost the identical tone that Harry had heard earlier.
Suddenly, it clicked in his mind that he was a Parselmouth and that it was very likely that the voice that he had heard the night of the writing on the wall had also been a snake.
Only this was much less powerful and didn't get under his skin and make him want to find a hiding place.
Because the snake in front of him barely registered as a threat; the only thing that was difficult in this moment was in keeping the surprise off of his face.
Although, if Harry could keep his cool when he found himself suddenly with suggestions from a certain Headmaster to attend dueling lessons, then it wasn't that different to discover that he had a very rare gift that few others in the wizarding world also shared.
Only he couldn't completely focus on how everyone else reacted to the snake, especially Ron Weasley. The youngest Weasley male became enraged at the animal familiar of Slytherin and in his rage he sent a very powerful, albeit misdirected, burst of magic that sailed right over the snake and headed towards Neville and Justin.
Therefore, Harry didn't have the time to fully protect them with his magic when he suddenly felt that tug in his gut that something of his was in danger. So when a small tendril of his magic managed to meet Ronald's incoming spell, it was only effective enough to change its course.
Which wasn't exactly the best thing since it screamed into him and knocked him backwards into the cold, hard ground. Once again, the darkness took him and he knew no more.
Harry awoke in the infirmary later that night with a familiar pain in his head that lingered from the impact of his skull against the cement. At first it took him a few minutes to get his bearings straight, but he slowly was able to elevate the top half of his body to rest on his elbows.
It was dark and no one else was in sight, although as more of his senses returned to him he realized that he clutched a crumbled piece of parchment. He adjusted himself to make use of the dim moonlight and read the short note.
Harry,
You were hit with a spell and then your head hit the ground and thus you ended up here. You will be okay, and Justin and I stayed until Madam Pomfrey made us leave. Will fill you in on the rest when you wake up.
Yours,
Justin and Neville.
Immediately his magic calmed with the note from his boys. He didn't want to admit it but it was nice to be able to rely on others in these situations that kept happening in which he couldn't completely fend for himself.
It made Harry further consider them as solely and completely belonging to him.
But just then his insides became cold. Just as that mysterious feeling made him feel invincible, this made him feel vulnerable and he didn't like it at all.
His magic was unsteady and it made him uncomfortable, and he looked around for an explanation as to what had caused it.
Suddenly, the lights at the entrance to the hospital wing flickered to life and the door opened and he immediately laid back down and pretended to be asleep.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the first person enter: Professor McGonagall, whose tartan cloak was wrapped around her tightly, looking even more serious than usual.
Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape were the next to enter, and trailing them came something that made Harry's heart stop in his chest.
Whatever off-ness that was going on with his magic made Harry feel similar to how he had at the beginning of last year, before he knew the small benefits of keeping Neville and Justin close to him. Seeing that body form only enhanced it because his magic had recognized that person.
Anger started to well inside his chest as the obscured form of a body was placed on a bed opposite him. Harry didn't know whether it was Justin or Neville but he felt a distinct hole in the center of his chest that he didn't like and could hardly stomach.
However, the sounds coming the other side of the room soon prevented him from vomiting.
"Albus, what has happened?" the Scottish brogue of Minerva sounded.
"I fear that the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again."
"But Albus, what has happened to Cedric Diggory; what will happen to the school?" the Transfiguration Professor returned while Severus eyed them both carefully.
"I think he has been petrified, but by what I cannot be certain. As for the school, I do not think we can keep this quiet forever."
Harry could only stare at the prone form of Cedric as the Professors continued on for a few more minutes discussing when or even if the school should be told.
Eventually, they gave the fourth-year Hufflepuff a last glance as they turned and headed out of the infirmary.
Harry waited until he was sure that they were gone before quietly placing his feet on the cold floor and walking over to where Cedric lied.
The complete absence of the other boy responding to the closeness of Harry's magic made him feel worse than he ever had on the inside. For it was like a part of him, a newly discovered part was now closed off to his magic and his mind forever.
But Harry would not give up on something that was his. In any way, shape, or form.
Cedric was a part of his journey now, and Harry would make sure that what had been taken from him would be returned.
"Sleep," Harry whispered while stroking Cedric's cold and hard cheek.
"I will make this all better," Harry promised, "and no one will hurt you ever again."
Harry bent slowly forward and kissed Cedric's rigid forehead. He didn't really know why he was doing this, only that it felt right because he took care of what was his.
It had always been that way – and it would always be that way.
"Not when you are mine," Harry's voice echoed softly off the walls while he turned and headed back to his bed.
However, unbeknownst to him since he was busy mourning the unexpected loss of a new follower, Harry's magical pulse was absorbed into Cedric's still body – and it comforted the boy while he dreamed his unending dream.
I know that in the books the victims started off as Muggleborns but this was too good to pass up, and I think Tom may have had a reason or two to throw old He-Who-Meddles-Too-Much off. Let me know what you think!
PS – I won't give up and neither should you. We are stronger together and I will continue to fight for human rights. Know that you aren't alone.