Harry flooed back to Hogwarts to find Flitwick waiting for him. He did not seem particularly worried that Harry had been out all night and listened to Harry's censored description of the Yule Ball with interest.
"Ah, to be young again!" Harry left Flitwick with a dreamy expression on his face.
The Castle was near empty, more so early in the morning, and Harry took the leisurely route back to the Common Room. The magic from the night before was still thrumming through him. It zinged against his fingertips.
The thought of Sirius made Harry grin broadly, almost stupidly into space. He knew Voldemort had some ulterior motive in helping free Sirius, but the main thing was to get his godfather out. Everything else could wait.
When Harry entered the Common Room, he found Ron plopped awkwardly on one of the armchairs, fast asleep.
He must have been waiting up for Harry.
"RON! wake up!" he laughed as Ron almost fell out of the armchair as he came awake suddenly.
"What's happened? Did you get into the Slytherin Common Room? Is it creepy?" He set the box of treats next to Ron. Narcissa had thrust it into his hand before he'd left. He was pretty confident that on account of Voldemort, she wouldn't poison him.
"What are you wearing?" Ron asked slowly, eyeing Harry warily.
Harry's fingers flew automatically to his head, but the transfigured antlers and ears were thankfully gone. He was, however, still wearing the green robes.
Come to think of it. Harry had forgotten his glasses entirely as well. He would have to ask Flitwick about that eye correcting charm once this one wore out.
"Dress robes! Weird things. Fudge was insistent that normal robes wouldn't do," He lied glibly, rolling his eyes at the memory of Narcissa.
"So, it was fun, then? Was it?" Harry realised belatedly that Ron was furious.
"Don't be such a wanker, Ron!" Harry had put up with all the snide comments Ron had made regarding the Yule Ball before, but now having been there, he felt differently about it. If Ron was going to continue to act jealous, he could go shove it.
"YOU ABSOLUTE WANKER!" Ron shouted, stomping up to him, his fingers balling into fists. "Your precious Fudge came and arrested Hagrid! Or do you not care about that now that you are friends with the rick folks?"
The high from witnessing the Great Hunt dimmed.
The diversion that would take Dumbledore and McGonagall away.
Fudge being late.
The paperwork for the prisoner - the excuse for Fudge to visit Azkaban.
The new prisoner in Azkaban.
It had been Hagrid!
Harry felt sick as Ron laid it all out.
They hadn't got far with the Polyjuice Potion. Hermione had literally not stepped out of the bathroom stall. She was now confined to the Infirmary, being treated for trying to turn herself into Millicent's cat.
Ron hadn't had an easier time of it either. Malfoy had panicked when Ron had no explanation for why Crabbe was missing. He had him search the Castle for Crabbe and had him even wade into the frigid Great Lake waters, as apparently, Crabbe had nearly drowned there that one time.
When he had finally managed to escape Malfoy, Ron had stumbled over to Hagrid's only to see him being arrested by the Aurors and Fudge.
It had been a disaster!
Ron was furious. But when he saw how genuinely upset Harry was - he grudgingly thumped his back and told him it wasn't his fault.
But it was his fault.
It was all his fault.
He had not spoken up when the attacks began.
He had not told anyone about Voldemort.
And now...he couldn't.
Not with Sirius still in Azkaban. Not when Voldemort had all but promised to free Sirius.
You have to get Hagrid out! You hear me?!
Stop being dramatic! We needed the diversion. Your gamekeeper will be back soon enough.
The callousness of Voldemort's reply was infuriating, but Harry took comfort in the fact that while Voldemort twisted the truth, he rarely outright lied to him.
This made it easier when Harry went to meet Hermione, Ron in tow. She was behind a screen, but Harry was relieved to see she was up and speaking. The awkwardness of the last few months was pushed aside as they began to discuss the night's happenings in earnest.
He told them about the Yule Ball. But he couldn't convey the joy of it in the way he had been able to with Flitwick. The two couldn't get over the fact that the Yule Ball had been held at the Malfoy Manor, and Ron would scoff every time Fudge was mentioned.
"Posh twats in fancy dress." Ron had concluded, and Harry didn't feel like arguing.
"They were up to something worse," Hermione said, sliding the Daily Prophet over to the other side of the screen.
Harry's heart sank as he saw the front page. There was an article on the Great Hunt or the 'Wild Hunt' as the Daily Prophet called it.
Harry was relieved that his...their Patronus was indistinguishable in the blurry image of the Great Hunt. Fortunately, the article didn't go into great detail – only commenting darkly on drunk Yule party-goers who may or may not have cast some spell to scare the muggles.
"To scare the muggles?" Harry asked blankly.
"It's a bad omen in the muggle world," Hermione explained. "I have been reading up about it! Imagine in the old days a procession of ghostly figures shows up over your village. It was seen as a symbol of impending war, plague or death. It's a cheap trick that purebloods use to scare the muggles."
It had felt joyous when the Hunt had formed, but Harry couldn't say that to Hermione.
"Do you know why they arrested Hagrid?" Harry asked instead to change the subject.
Ron sighed. "I couldn't hear everything, but the gist of it was that fifty years ago, when the Chamber was last opened, Hagrid was keeping some monster as a pet that killed a student."
"Maybe it was some other Monster?" Hermione said hesitantly.
"How many monsters could there be?" Ron shook his head. "You know, Hagrid, he would never have meant to kill anyone. But Hagrid did try to keep a dragon as a pet just last year! Imagine how much worse he would have been as a kid. If he thought there was a monster hidden in Hogwarts, he would have wanted to pet it!"
"Well, that, unfortunately, makes sense," Hermione said dully.
No, it didn't. Voldemort had opened the Chamber of Secrets. He had gotten Myrtle killed!
And he had made Hagrid a scapegoat again!
"It can't be Hagrid!" Harry said. He had to defend Hagrid. "He's been here for years. Why would he let the monster escape now? And does Hagrid seem like the type who'd paint those words on the wall? It doesn't make sense."
"You're right, Harry," Hermione said slowly as if she was trying out the idea for size. "I wonder - Ron, did you find out anything useful from Malfoy?"
"Malfoy was a complete bust. It was awful," Ron groaned. "He whined endlessly about not being allowed to go home for the Christmas break as something 'important' was going on at the Malfoy Manor. At the time, I thought it could have something to do with You Know Who," Ron said, and Harry shifted uncomfortably. "But now that we know the Yule Ball was held there this year - they probably didn't want the git ruining the party."
"Of course, he also tried to hint that his father knows something about the Chamber! Something top secret." Ron said, rolling his eyes. "But you know how he is! He thinks his father knows everything!"
Harry sighed in relief. Lucius may have had a crisis of faith when it came to Voldemort, but clearly, he hadn't told his son anything.
"I'll have to do more research once I am out of here," Hermione said emphatically. "We will find something to prove he is innocent!"
Hermione wasn't released till the beginning of February. True to her word, she threw herself back into research on the Chamber of Secrets. Harry was torn. He wanted Hagrid released sooner than later. And yet, Hermione figuring out that the Slytherin Monster was a giant snake, at the same time as Harry, the only known parseltongue, was attending school would do no favours to his claim of not being the Heir.
Given Hagrid was arrested during the holidays, most students didn't even know he had been imprisoned. Harry had wanted hex Lockhart badly when he'd announced brightly in their class that he'd always known Hagrid was up to no good.
A few weeks in, Dumbledore had pulled him out of the Library to have a chat. He'd felt guilty and sick to the stomach, convinced Dumbledore could see right through him. But Harry had gotten steadily more annoyed when he realised that Dumbledore only seemed keen to impress upon Harry why he should not have gone to the Yule Ball.
"Professor Flitwick did not think it was a problem," Harry mumbled, trying to avoid Dumbledore's gaze. Unfortunately, his pet Phoenix was nowhere in sight, and he didn't have the welcome distraction of staring at the bird.
Dumbledore had droned pleasantly about only wanting what was best for Harry and keeping him safe from the less savoury elements in the wizarding world. Maybe he would come to Dumbledore the next time if such a situation presented itself?
"What about Hagrid? He can't be the Heir, sir!" he'd asked outright at the end. Of course, Voldemort had said Hagrid wouldn't be in Azkaban long, but surely Dumbledore could get Hagrid out sooner if he wanted.
"We are doing what we can, Harry. If only we could figure out who indeed is the Slytherin Heir." Dumbledore had said, his face hopeful as he'd looked at Harry. Like Harry would jump at the chance to solve the latest school year mystery.
Harry could only stiffly nod as he made his escape from Dumbledore's office, bitterly aware of how ridiculous it was that the Hogwarts Headmaster was looking towards students to solve the Slytherin Monster problem.
He wished he could unsee it. It was all bloody Voldemort's fault. All of it!
Lockhart made himself even more unpopular with the Valentine's Day debacle. How did Hogwarts allow this nonsense? Thankfully, when the grim dwarf cornered him in the hallway, Harry had the wherewithal to cast a Muffiliato so that only he could hear that embarrassing song.
Just his luck that Snape had swooped down the hallway at the same time. He'd been hauled off to Snape's office, where he'd spent quite a bit of time lying badly that he had learnt the spell from 'some book in the Library'. Snape had looked progressively more murderous, but it wasn't like Harry could just admit that he had picked it up from Snape's former master. Harry wasn't sure what had got Snape's knickers in a twist. It wasn't like it was a dark spell!
He came back to a despondent Ron, whose broken wand was emitting large purple blossoms. Malfoy had made fun of Ginny for sending Harry the valentine and picked a fight with Ron. So now they were both stuck with detention.
"I don't know why you let Malfoy rile you up! He was clearly trying to get you into trouble!" Hermione said primly.
"I keep telling you, Mione. I didn't even do anything! Why would he jinx me in a crowded hallway - it was like he was trying to get detention! It's also bloody unfair. He is getting to help Lockhart with his fan mail while I am stuck cleaning trophies again! Why don't I ever get to answer fan mail, huh?"
"Trust me, you don't want to be in Lockhart's office." The thought of countless photographs of Lockhart staring down at him still gave Harry the creeps.
In the evening, Harry slipped away and made his way to the Chamber of Secrets as he had gotten into the habit of doing for the last month. He had to be extra careful to avoid Ginny; he was irrationally convinced that she would sing him the song in person if he let her.
Harry had made it his mission to get the basilisk out of Hogwarts and to a place where she would not be a danger to anyone.
Surprisingly, Voldemort had agreed relatively quickly to having the basilisk moved.
She is old - who knows how long she will live. Much better to get her out and see if we can breed her.
Harry tried not to be horrified at the thought that he may be helping seed Voldemort's future Basilisk army.
The tunnels from the Chamber of Secrets led all the way out into the Forbidden Forest and beyond. As a Second Year in Hogwarts, he was laughably under-qualified to even understand the Castle wards, which were written in some esoteric ancient runes, much less tamper with them. But the warding on this part of the Castle had been Salazar Slytherin's pet project, and he had built in clever little loopholes and safeguards - much of which could only be activated in parseltongue. Harry felt a grudging respect for the Founder. There seemed to be some truth in Voldemort's sermons of Salazar Slytherin only wanting to protect the Castle. None of the loopholes Slytherin had built could be used to storm the Castle; they were more like a last resort to let the students inside escape.
Though the wards were meant to keep the basilisk inside, Voldemort was confident that he could circumvent the security array to let her out. It would have to be done carefully and slowly to not tip off the Castle's ancient security wards, but Voldemort was confident that he could coach Harry through it. Once the basilisk was free to leave the Castle- she could be shifted during the summer when the Castle and its grounds were emptier.
He felt like he was in limbo. It was likely to take months before Sirius' trial would even start. In the meantime, when he thought of Hagrid in Azkaban, guilt twisted his insides. Voldemort had stonewalled him every time he asked when he would get Hagrid out, and Harry had taken to working on the wards whenever he had a free moment, almost in penance.
Harry had been up late at night researching life debts and was sat moodily staring into his breakfast. It was just after Easter, and Harry still wasn't sure when Hagrid would be released. Voldemort helped with the wards, but he was too busy for any of Harry's other questions.
Maybe he should threaten to go to Dumbledore. That would probably get a reaction.
"Harry!" Hermione hissed, but her voice still carried.
Harry blinked and looked up from his toast and eggs. He hadn't noticed as the buzz of conversation around him had intensified and then died. He looked around and saw the majority in the Great Hall was staring at him.
And not in a good way.
"What..."
But Hermione had grabbed the Daily Prophet and was already dragging him out of the Great Hall.
"This stinks of Potter being the Heir!" Harry stopped mid-track and turned as he heard the whisper from the Ravenclaw table.
What had happened?
But Hermione only pulled him away from the Great Hall and dragged him into one of the unused classrooms in the dungeons.
"Explain!"
She thrust the paper under his nose.
"WIZARDS FIRST! HARRY POTTER'S YULE BALL ENTREATY WILL SURPRISE YOU"
With mounting apprehension, Harry scanned through the entire article.
Our Readers will remember last December when we covered the Yule Ball. We had made an observation that the entreaties received had caused a stir at the Party (See our article on page 13 regarding the top ten requests received in the last century, and the third one will totally surprise you!). Well, we now have more explosive news!
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, has entreated children from underprivileged wizarding families to be provided funds to attend Hogwarts. We have learnt that the Boy Who Lived made quite a case for it in front of the Wizengamot Members at the Yule Ball. In the last couple of months, the Entreaty has been tipped as the favourite to win this year; predictably, many prominent wizarding families support it.
The question of providing privileges to children from wizarding families over muggleborns has been hotly debated and has been a political flashpoint for decades. If accepted, this Entreaty may prove a turning point. (Read our complete coverage. Contra points article by M Fenwick
on page 2: In favouring this Entreaty, the Boy Who Lived only wants balance, on page 3 a Statement from the Advancement of Muggleborns Fund and much more!)
"I don't...I didn't...WHAT?!" Harry's mind was reeling.
"It is complicated," Penelope Clearwater, the Ravenclaw prefect, told them later that day in the Library. Much to Harry's surprise, Hermione did not, in fact, know everything. She had taken him to see Penelope, who had at least agreed to explain the issue to them even if she was distant and cool towards Harry.
"The stipend for all muggleborns was set up at the end of the War. But many pureblood families opposed the fund calling it favouritism and what not!" Penelope rolled her eyes. "They tried to set up a fund specifically for wizarding families, but it was opposed by many as pandering to You Know Who's supporters. And now, Potter, you've gone and sided with the Purebloods!"
"But I didn't!" Harry exclaimed. He didn't know any of this. The paper had taken what he had said and twisted it all up. "They told me the muggleborns had a stipend. I only said everyone who needs it should have it!"
Penelope considered Harry with a bit more friendliness. "Well, there are arguments against that as well. Some muggleborn wizards believe that the wizarding families already have a clear advantage - they know their child needs to go to Hogwarts from birth! So why should they be given any other advantages by the Ministry?"
"That's stupid!" Harry said hotly. " The stipend should go to people who need it! Wizarding or muggleborn!"
"Harry's right," Hermione nodded. She had been annoyed with him earlier for not telling her about the Entreaty. Still, she had grudgingly accepted that Harry couldn't have known that a suggestion box at a party was going to make Wizarding headlines.
Penelope, however, only shook her head as she got up. "Don't get me wrong, I agree with you two," she said, as she gathered her stuff up from the table, "but this is politics! Neither side actually cares for the truth of the matter - they just want something to argue about!"
Harry was going to realise just how right she was over the miserable course of the following months. The insults and hexes that had ebbed since before the Christmas break were back with a vengeance.
'I can't believe it! Wasn't his mother muggleborn? Shame!'
'So typical of a half-blood! Wanting to get all cosy with the purebloods!'
'It's too much of a coincidence, right? So Potter starts getting all chummy with the Purebloods? And muggleborns get petrified in the same year!'
Ron's reaction had been the most surprising. He had listened to Harry's explanation stone-faced and had walked away without a word.
Hermione had flushed and sidestepped the issue. But it was the snickering whispers from the other students that had clued Harry into what was the problem.
'Probably doesn't want the Weasley leeching off him, so he is turned to the Ministry for help.'
'Weasleys were one of the oldest wizarding families. It's pathetic how they have turned into charity cases.'
'Can you believe they can't even afford a new wand for him?'
The Daily Prophet also reported on with much glee the very public spat between Mr Weasley and Lucius Malfoy to make matters worse.
MISUSE OF POWER? ARTHUR WEASLEY TO FACE ENQUIRY AGAIN?
Mr Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office (who, our readers will remember, earlier in the year was fined 50 galleons for bewitching a muggle car), appears to have found himself in a hot cauldron again.
His office carried out a raid in Mr Lucius Malfoy's manor in Wiltshire, presumably looking for dark arts artefacts under the Muggle Protection Act just yesterday. But they came away red-faced and empty-handed. "Clearly, the raid was illegal," Mr Lucius Malfoy told the reporters. "Just last week, Weasley made a public declaration against the fund for providing educational stipends for the less fortunate among us. I cannot imagine why - when it may even be of great help for his own children! He seemed specifically riled up that families like mine were in support of the same. Clearly, the raid was part of a personal vendetta that Weasley has against my family!"
Harry felt miserable. The Weasleys had treated him with nothing but kindness, and yet he had somehow managed to put them in a bind. He had sent an extremely awkward letter to Molly Weasley apologising. He was simultaneously relieved yet ashamed when the elder Weasleys had written back promptly, letting him know that they completely understood that his words had been twisted out of context. It was different with the younger Weasleys, though.
Harry would still catch Ginny staring at him, but while before, she would just blush when looking away; now, she looked sad as if he had broken her heart or some other codswallop.
Ron ignored Harry entirely and made it a point to leave the Common Room when Harry entered. It would have been better if he yelled.
Percy seemed intent to pretend that nothing had happened and overcompensated with forced awkward small talk with Harry.
He was most worried when the Weasley twins cornered him one day, alone, in the bathroom.
"Look, I swear, I did not mean your family when I made that Entreaty," Harry backed up, acutely aware that George and Fred knew a whole host of nasty hexes.
"Well, that's gone and hurt our feelings, hasn't it, George? We could have done some good with that money." Fred said, laughing.
" For sure, it hurts our feelings! We could have cleaned out Zonko's with that money! Even better, we could make our own jokes. Imagine the possibilities," George added.
"Wait," Harry stopped short. "you aren't angry?" Harry asked, surprised. They were mocking, yes, but that was them being their usual self.
George sighed melodramatically, and Fred rolled his eyes.
"Harry, we are poor," George said.
"Dirt poor!" Fred chimed in.
"We accept that. It is what it is. Mum and Dad are proud; they won't take any help, even from Bill and Charlie."
Harry had to look away. He'd never seen the twins this serious.
"We know you meant well. Whether you thought of us or not. Ron is an idiot, is all we wanted to say. Don't mind him." George said. They nodded at him, clasped his shoulder and left.
Harry felt guilty. He had genuinely not thought of the Weasleys when writing down that Entreaty. But how was Harry to explain that he did it on a whim because of a 14-year-old girl he'd met in Knockturn Alley when he was having tea with Voldemort?
Voldemort paused as he felt the pain-guilt-resignation roll off the boy into him. Of course, Voldemort enjoyed the unrivalled access he had to Harry's mind, but that didn't change the highly confusing nature of their exchange at times. It was never just words alone - feelings, images, even magic would sometimes course from Harry into Voldemort without warning if he didn't have his shields up.
Like now - when he could almost feel Harry's ribs hurt as he sucked in a breath. Voldemort had to focus his legilimency skills on the onslaught of information to get a complete picture.
Harry stumbled into the Chamber of Secrets, still bleeding and bruised from the latest scuffle. The boy had been lost in thought, worried about Granger's latest breakthrough when they had jumped him. A mix of older Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. He would have held his own if it had been left to magic, but they'd ganged up on him - like Dudley and his friends used to do. They'd punched him like muggles.
You're hurt.
He let the offhand thought flit through.
Aren't you happy? That was your plan, wasn't it? Getting my Entreaty picked! To torture me.
Harry's thoughts were jagged and angry. Voldemort preferred it to the pain-guilt feeling that seemed to fill the boy lately. Harry sat down wearily against a pillar, trying to mend his cuts as best as he could. He had picked up some minor healing spells to deal with the numerous cuts and bruises he accumulated daily.
Harry spent much of his time working on changing the warding, with Voldemort's voice resonating through his head as he worked on them. He had managed to painstakingly alter the critical wards in the tunnels that needed to be re-arranged to let the basilisk escape. Voldemort was pleased with the progress they made - of how easy it was for him to access Harry's mind even as information and warding spells tumbled into Harry's head.
Severus is right; your self-importance is staggering. This may be hard for you to believe, but not everything is about you.
May was upon them, but the political storm was still surging. The Daily Prophet was filled with arguments and counterarguments. To Harry's misery, his name had come up on numerous occasions. Fudge had even tried to cajole him into making a statement, which the boy had wisely declined.
Then stop using me for your shitty politics! The purebloods keep harping on the fact that I made that Entreaty!
I don't care one whit about politics. I thought that I made that clear in my conversation with Lucius earlier.
Harry winced at the sharp hook in Voldemort's thoughts snagged at his mind as it slipped through. Harry knew enough to figure out it was deliberate, but he didn't know how to guard against it just yet.
This petty, vapid mudslinging is not going to change our world for the better.
Voldemort soothed the edges of his thoughts as he projected them into Harry's mind.
He had no plans to reveal his intentions yet, but Harry needed to understand that there was more...more than all of this.
Then why? Why is Lucius Malfoy pushing the Entreaty so much? If this is not important, then...
Harry paused, sucking in a breath, making his rib hurt again. He was nowhere close to being able to spy on Voldemort's thoughts, but sometimes he would have these moments - where he'd
pick up on emotion if not the exact details.
You're just diverting attention to this as you work on other things, aren't you? Letting Dumbledore and the rest think that this is some nefarious Death Eater plot!
Harry waited, hoping Voldemort would confirm or deny his thoughts, but Voldemort only steered the conversation away.
You should concentrate on the wards, Harry. Your muggle friend is getting awfully close to figuring out the Chamber of Secrets monster.
Harry's thoughts twisted uncomfortably. But, of course, he hadn't been able to keep it a secret from Voldemort.
'Earlier, my research was focussed on just trying to find as much literature on the Chamber of Secrets. But now I realise I should concentrate on the Slytherin Monster. And here's the thing. If people thought Hagrid was rearing it, then it isn't a monster, not really, it has to be a
magical beast!' she had told Harry excitedly. 'If we go through the list of magical beasts and their abilities, I bet we could figure out what the beast is!'
Harry had tried to ignore it as much as possible, but he should have known better than to hope that Hermione would stop looking.
Or that I would just let it go.
Voldemort felt the shift as Harry registered the thought. Harry's heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped.
What do you mean? What did you do? Harry's thoughts were slow. It was strange to feel the panic build through Harry. It almost felt like his own.
It is only temporary. She will wake up with the rest.
NO! I WON'T LET YOU! Voldemort felt the sickening lurch as Harry realised he hadn't heard the basilisk in a while.
Really, Harry. Think about it. If she were to be petrified, no one would believe you were the Heir. Your friendship would ensure that these rumours would stop. Wouldn't that be a good thing?
NO! Harry stumbled, twisting his ankle, but he ignored the pain as he ran down the tunnels, trying to find the basilisk.
If anything, you should thank me, Harry. Voldermort's thoughts were aimed to be comforting but they hardly broke through the fear that now filled the boy's brain.
With one more attack, no one will believe Hagrid is the Heir either. Don't you see? This is the perfect solution?
Seeing Hermione's petrified form in the Infirmary had tempted Harry to throw caution in the air and tell Dumbledore everything. But he was nowhere to be found.
He learnt from Professor McGonagall that Dumbledore had left to have Hagrid freed as soon as possible.
Voldemort had been right; the attack had cleared Hagrid's name entirely.
Hogwarts was again plunged in fear. All extracurriculars, including quidditch matches, were cancelled. The students were never left unsupervised - they were herded from class to class and then to the Common Room by the professors. Harry heard rumours that there has been an attempt by the Hogwarts Board of Governors to suspend Dumbledore as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. They were also calls to close down Hogwarts completely, which filled Harry's stomach with dread.
There was also a shift in the way people treated Harry.
"We know you would never hurt Granger, Potter. " Ernie Macmillan had put his hand over his shoulder as he made the rather public declaration in the Great Hall, with several others nodding along to his statement.
He had been bullied for the better part of the year. But now that one of his best friends had been attacked, Harry was suddenly treated with pity and understanding.
Harry bore it well. If he really thought about it, though, he would want to set the basilisk on all of them.
He hadn't been to the Chambers since the incident. He wanted to hate her, but she was a stupid giant snake, and he knew it wasn't her fault. Not really. And he couldn't punish the one responsible. Not yet anyway.
As the weeks passed and the mandrakes reached maturity, it helped ease some of his guilt. When he talked his way out of Lockhart's supervision as the class was being led to the History of Magic, he had a vague plan to go down to the Chambers to see the basilisk.
What he hadn't expected was for Ron to hang back and follow him. Ron had been clearly shaken up by the attack on Hermione and had made several attempts already to catch Harry alone to properly speak to him. But Harry hadn't been in much of a forgiving mood.
"Do you want to go see Hagrid?" Ron had edged hesitantly as they had stood around awkwardly.
"No," Harry was yet to go see Hagrid. He couldn't face him. Harry was just about to claim some excuse to escape, but unfortunately, Professor McGonagall had caught them dithering.
One lie later, he found himself seated glumly next to Hermione's petrified form. It really was useless. Not like she could hear him. It was like the static numbness that now filled Harry's brain from Voldemort's end.
His connection with Voldemort had gone quiet, much like at the beginning of the year. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to occlude the link, but he knew finding out that Voldemort had attacked Hermione had somehow numbed their connection entirely.
The shock of it all. Harry thought bitterly.
Harry didn't know why Voldemort's actions should have surprised him. His history with Voldemort was a history of Voldemort doing horrible things to people Harry cared about. Voldemort could not be trusted. He knew that. He knew that, and yet...
He also didn't see a way out. Sirius being incarcerated meant Voldemort had leverage whether he used it or not. Surprisingly, Voldemort had made no efforts to force his way into Harry's head since the incident. Instead, he appeared to be gratingly respecting Harry's imposed silence through their bond.
"What's that?" Ron asked, breaking through Harry's reverie as he pointed at Hermione's clenched hand. He didn't think much of it as he watched Ron tug and twist the paper out of Hermione's petrified fingers. But as he read the torn page along with Ron, as he felt Ron's excitement build, his own dread intensified until Ron turned to him all excited and said in a rush. "Harry, this is it! The monster in the Chamber is a Basilisk!"
Blind panic filled him. Harry felt his knees buckle, and he had to grasp at Hermione's bed to not topple over as Ron started putting the pieces together. He felt like his whole world crumble down around him.
They would find out! Once they knew it was a Basilisk that used the pipes to move around, it would not take Dumbledore long to connect the pieces! And he was the only parseltongue in Hogwarts! They would all turn on him - the way they had on Sirius! He would be thrown out of Hogwarts, maybe even sent to Azkaban. Worse, they could break his wand, strip him off magic and return him to the muggle world. A ringing was filling his ears. His vision was clouding.
He couldn't leave Hogwarts! He couldn't...he needed.
Voldemort! the thought broke through his blind panic, and he felt the familiar connection, which had been quiet and dormant, at the back of his brain, snap back into life.
Breath, you idiot, breath!
The words seemed to sweep through him, causing his lungs to expand as if on command, and as he took several steadying breaths, he felt the panic be tamped down almost forcibly.
He blinked as his vision returned back to normal. It had felt like an eternity, but only moments had passed since Ron's declaration. He was seated slumped over Hermione's bed. Ron was hovering over him, clearly worried but keeping him out of Madame Pomfrey's field of vision.
"Ron, I'm okay" Harry had to somehow force himself to pull a smile on his face as he patted Ron's hand where it clutched his leg.
"What happened, mate? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"You could say that" Harry let Voldemort's words slip through, unbidden and unchecked. "Pipes, Ron! The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets! I heard the last time a student had been killed - it was...it was in the bathroom. What if it was Moaning Myrtle? What if the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom? "
Ron's mouth fell comically open. "It fits! It all fits! We've done it! Shall we go tell McGonagall?"
Harry could only nod wretchedly, unclear on Voldemort's plan. He trailed after Ron as they stepped out of the Infirmary, but it was only a few minutes later when echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall's magically magnified voice.
"All students to return to their house dormitories at once. All teachers to return to the staff room...All students to return to..."
Not another attack? Not now?
Harry thought wretchedly, his heart beating louder in his ears in a rhythm that drowned out McGonagall's voice.
They were safely ensconced in the Gryffindor Common Room by the time the news spread. Ginny Weasley had been taken into the Chamber.
The Heir of Slytherin had very helpfully left another message so that there was no confusion regarding Ginny's disappearance.
Her Skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.
Harry wondered distantly how Voldemort had managed to get that scribbled on the wall without being at Hogwarts.
News had trickled down into the Common Room all day. Dumbledore had been summoned on the spot by the school Governors to explain how this could have happened. Hogwarts was to be shut down - the Hogwarts Express was to come to take them away in the morning.
They sat miserably in a corner while Harry wrangled with what the hell he was doing. Or what the hell was Voldemort planning on doing.
"Let's go tell Lockhart," Harry said, near dusk once the twins had gone to bed.
At Ron's look of incredulity, he added, "you heard what everyone is saying. He is apparently going to go fight the monster. Can't hurt to tell him where we think the entrance is and that it is the basilisk."
Ron agreed readily enough. It took longer, though, to convince him that splitting up was the best plan.
"I'll go and ask Moaning Myrtle where she died and what she saw. You go get Lockhart. It will probably save us some time."
Once Ron had disappeared around the corner, Harry rushed to the second-floor girl's bathroom. He needed to get the basilisk out as soon as possible. But this also meant he needed to speak to Myrtle.
He had avoided Myrtle all year. He always used a nifty spell to distract her from the bathroom every time he used the entrance. But today, he had to go talk to Myrtle. He told himself he had no reason to feel guilty. He had not killed her. It had been Voldemort, but the memories threatened to overwhelm him. It took the equivalent of a mental kick from Voldemort to finally push him forward.
It is a good thing that she was always dumb. You're a terrible actor.
Voldemort mused, even as Harry stuttered through a conversation with Myrtle about how exactly she'd died. As if Harry needed to be told how Myrtle had died, Voldemort had all but made him relive the experience.
Still, he made a show of examining the pipes, the sink and pretended to be surprised to find the snake symbol scratched on the tap. By the time the sink sank away to expose the opening to the tunnel, Harry was relieved to be leaving Myrtle behind.
He didn't have to scramble down much before the basilisk slithered up to carry him down.
Despite the circumstances, he smoothed his hands down her scales absentmindedly as they went down, soothed by her excited hisses of welcome. While Harry was worried, he didn't feel the raw panic that had filled him back at the Infirmary. At that moment, when Voldemort had come to his aid without any hesitation, he knew implicitly that while Voldemort could do all kinds of horrible things to him, he would not let him be stripped of his magic.
Once in the Chamber, he rushed to where Ginny was lying between Slytherin's feet and was relieved to find that she was only petrified.
Voldemort did not have to urge him on. He clambered back onto the basilisk, letting her carry him through the maze-like system of tunnels.
Weeks ago, Harry had managed to build a path through the wards. Only the ward remained at the end of the tunnel, which led into the Forbidden Forest. Harry had meant to dismantle it at year-end when the basilisk could be whisked away to safety. Now though, he scratched the rune sequence into the tunnel walls in the way that Voldemort had made him practice, what felt like aeons ago, letting his magic sink in. He let his intent slip out into parseltongue, urging the loophole that Slytherin had left to grow and become large enough for the basilisk to slip out.
What he hadn't accounted for was the basilisk refusing to leave.
You have to go. You are not safe here anymore! Hide in the forest. The Heir will come and get you!He repeated urgently even as he tried to push her towards the entrance, but she only coiled herself around him, hissing out a nonsensical babble.
Let me
Harry hesitated only for a moment before he nodded. Not like Voldemort needed his permission to force himself into his head.
He had been out of it the last time back in Azkaban when Voldemort had pushed himself into Harry through their shared link.
Now though...
He felt the tunnel disappear momentarily, and instead of the coils of the basilisk, he could feel Voldemort bound tight around him. He shivered as he realised he couldn't tell where his body ended and where Voldemort began. If he concentrated, he could see the tunnel and the basilisk now, except the scene felt removed as if he saw it through someone else's eyes. But, when Voldemort spoke again, he felt his jaw move involuntarily.
Leave this place and hide in the forest. I will come for you.
When she still only hissed and tightened her coils around him, he felt the sting of Voldemort's anger in his head as he snapped,
I command that you leave now; you will see him again!
The basilisk froze at the command and finally uncoiled from around Harry and slipped out.
As she disappeared into the dark beyond, as much as he knew this was a good thing, he felt a pang at her loss.
Fools, the both of you. Voldemort's thoughts stung at his sentimentality.
We wait now. The thought came to Harry unasked, and he couldn't tell whether it came from him or Voldemort. Being possessed by Voldemort was not painful per se; it just made all his senses feel muffled as if he was underwater.
This would be a different story if you were actively resisting.
Harry pulled on his invisibility cloak and felt his annoyance mix in with Voldemort's familiar appreciation for his family heirloom.
That was good. At least Harry's emotions were still his own.
Voldemort wasn't actively controlling him anymore, and it was Harry who stumbled back through the tunnels. It was slow going without the basilisk to carry him. When he came to the Chambers, he debated just waiting near Ginny, but Voldemort silently urged him onwards.
He stumbled on. Merlin, he was tired.
He startled out of his thoughts as he heard voices up ahead. He crept cautiously forward, hugging the tunnel wall and stopped as he came close to where the voices were coming from.
He could barely make Ron and Lockhart out. But, for some reason, Ron was leading Lockhart by wand point and shouting furiously.
"WHERE IS GINNY, YOU GIT? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"
"I told you! I don't know what you are talking about!"
This has worked out better than I could have hoped. Voldemort crowed in his head.
What do you mean? He had thought that making Ron go to Lockhart was only meant to be a diversion. Lockhart was too incompetent to act quickly. But his attention snapped back to Ron and Lockhart as the latter made a sudden dive for Ron's wand.
Harry tried to fling himself forward, but Voldemort's intent rang out in his head.
Wait! He did feel an agonising lurch this time as his feet stopped mid-step, and his wand hand was forcibly held down by Voldemort.
What are you doing? We need to help Ron! Harry felt as if his brain was being split apart.
"The adventure ends here, boy!" Lockhart was speaking, waving Ron's Spellotaped wand around. "I will tell them I was too late to save the girl, and you tragically lost your mind at the sight of her mangled body! So, say goodbye to your memory!"
As Lockhart raised Ron's wand over his head, Harry felt his pain abate as Voldemort let Harry's wand hand up.
"Obliviate," Harry found himself whisper just before Lockhart spelt the same.
Voldemort had been a second faster. Their spell hit Lockhart squarely at the back of his head before the wand that Lockhart had been holding exploded. Harry ducked back even as he felt the tunnel shake from the explosion. The next moment, he felt Voldemort's presence recede swiftly. Harry gasped, the world orienting itself around him sharper and clearer. Finally, he found himself on his knees alone, gazing up at a sold wall of broken wall, obstructing the tunnel.
"RON! ARE YOU OKAY?" he shouted as he found himself back in control of his own vocal cords.
"Harry, is that you? I'm ok! It's this git that did it! Did you find Ginny?"
He was relieved to hear Ron on the other side.
"Yeah, yeah I did," Harry shouted back. " She is fine, only petrified! I didn't find a basilisk!"
Ron whooped in joy before saying, "I told Moaning Myrtle when I came down to go get McGonagall. Help should be here soon."
Harry dragged himself to the wall next to the blocked-off tunnel and let his head thump back against the wall. He heard Ron's muffled quips at Lockhart, who wasn't making much sense.
"The spell must have backfired when he tried to hit me. This whole time! The whole Chamber nonsense was this git's fault!" He heard a dull thud and loud screech of protest from Lockhart. It sounded as though Ron had just knocked Lockhart in the shins.
Harry's thoughts were still fuzzy. He wasn't quite sure how things had turned out this way, with Ron confident that Lockhart was the Heir of Slytherin. The thought was so ridiculous that Harry began to laugh. He laughed so hard that his laughter reverberated throughout the tunnel. Exhausted and at the end of his tether, Harry knew if he didn't laugh, he would cry.
He had let the entire school be terrorised for over a year by Voldemort's pet snake. He had allowed Hagrid to take the blame. He had stayed quiet even when one of his best friends and his other best friend's sister had been petrified. Now he knew he was going to let his hapless Professor take the blame and help Voldemort cover it all up. He was a horrible, terrible human being.
But he wasn't going to be kicked out of Hogwarts.
And that was all that mattered.
Harry didn't cry, but it was a close thing.
It was much later in Professor McGonagall's office that he heard Ron's version of events.
Lockhart turned out to be a charlatan. Which, in retrospect, made complete sense. He had had none of the exciting adventures that he bragged about in his books. Worse, he had obliviated witches and wizards and taken credit for their exploits. He had admitted to the entire thing freely when Ron had gone to his rooms. And then Lockhart had tried to obliviate him.
Ron had been able to knock Lockhart out temporarily; he had been planning to find Professor McGonagall and report the whole ordeal. Except that he'd glanced at the manuscript that had fallen out of Lockhart's trunk in the struggle.
'Braving the Basilisk,' the title had declared, and Ron had read several pages of it with growing unease.
"It was like...he was writing it all out like an adventure, every single attack, like in one of his bloody books!' Ron winced, casting Molly Weasley a quick look, but she was too relieved to have Ginny back, albeit petrified to care about Ron's language. "He knew it was a Basilisk! And he had these descriptions of the tunnel entrance and the Chamber! How could he have known if he wasn't the Heir?"
"How indeed? Are you not going to enlighten us, Gilderoy?" Dumbledore asked as he turned towards Lockhart, who was seated next to them. Lockhart stared back in polite confusion.
"Ah, you are speaking to me?" He asked, twisting around to check if there was anyone else.
"The spell he used backfired when he tried to hit me with it in the tunnel," Ron said. It wasn't a lie from Ron's perspective. He hadn't seen the second more powerful memory charm hit Lockhart.
"Perhaps the mediwizards will be able to help him," Dumbledore said. Harry could have sworn Dumbledore didn't seem convinced that Lockhart could be the Heir.
"And you, Harry?" Dumbledore said, and Harry had to control his urge to bolt.
He got through his story quickly, though. His part in the adventure was, after all, minimal. He had spoken to Myrtle, managed to open the entrance and down in the Chambers found Ginny petrified. He had seen no basilisk.
"What does this mean, Albus?" Molly Weasley asked, wringing her hands worriedly. "Is the Slytherin monster...Is the basilisk still around? Is Hogwarts safe?"
Dumbledore's smile was reassuring.
"Yes, Hogwarts is quite safe. Now that we know it's a basilisk, we can put safety measures in place. We will also be searching the school and property and, of course, the pipes."
If he was troubled by the fact that the basilisk had not been caught, he didn't let it show.
Harry knew they wouldn't find anything. The Forbidden Forest boundaries were porous, and the tunnels ran to the very edge. Voldemort would have whisked the snake away by now.
The Weasleys with Professor McGonagall in tow had left for the Infirmary soon after. Madame Pomfrey was administering the Mandrake drought, and they wanted to be present when Ginny and Hermione woke up. Lockhart had been led away to the Infirmary as well. He would stay at the Infirmary till St Mungo's could send someone over to collect him.
Harry fidgeted in his seat, unsure of what he was to do now. What it was that Dumbledore wanted from him.
"I know that this year has been difficult for you, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. He was leaning back against McGonagall's table, his fingers splayed out on the table on either side of him. He was looking at Harry intently.
"The rumours about you being the Heir. " Dumbledore prompted as Harry only looked back at him blankly.
"uh...yeah," Harry wiped his face as an excuse to break eye contact and looked away. "It's the parseltongue which makes everyone think that you're the Slytherin Heir." He shrugged and added bitterly, "Even the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin! I had to beg to be put in Gryffindor! It now makes sense, I guess, given my ability."
And because you'll do what it takes. Harry ignored the thought.
Dumbledore shook his head in disagreement. "You can speak Parseltongue, Harry, because Lord Voldemort, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm very much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you the scar."
It was meant to be a reassurance, even a revelation, but it only rankled. If Parseltongue had come down to him through Voldemort, he didn't care. It was his just as much as flying was a part of him. It wasn't like he was going to give it back!
But did this mean Dumbledore knew? Or suspect that there was some link that had formed between Voldemort and Harry? He certainly knew the prophecy though he hadn't bothered to tell Harry about it. What was worse was this meant that Dumbledore suspected Lockhart was not the Heir.
"You think Voldemort was the Slytherin's Heir? Then Lockhart cannot be one, can he?" He asked slowly.
"I am not certain about Professor Lockhart. Regarding Lord Voldemort, I certainly think so. Tom Riddle, who would later become Lord Voldemort, went to Hogwarts in the same year that Hagrid did. He was the one to turn Hagrid in for rearing the monster. But, of course, we know it was not Hagrid and given Lord Voldemort was a parseltongue... "
"But..." and Harry wanted to bite his tongue, but the words were out before he could stop himself. "the only proof you...we have is Tom Riddle was a parseltongue. I am a parseltongue too. That doesn't mean I am the Heir. Why does everyone think that being a parseltongue makes you inherently evil!"
Harry wished he could turn back time. It was absurd to defend Voldemort when he knew he was the Heir! But he just couldn't accept that being parseltongue in itself was a bad thing.
For once, Dumbledore looked surprised. He seemed intent to explain further, but then his eyes narrowed, and his attention turned to the door behind Harry. There was a sharp rap on the door. Dumbledore fell silent as the door opened. Harry craned his head back, expecting to see one of the Professors but was surprised to find it was Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape.
"Lucius and Severus," Dumbledore greeted pleasantly enough, but there was a steely undertone. "it is quite rude to eavesdrop, you know."
Lucius shrugged elegantly, unashamed, at the accusation. Harry realised belatedly that there was a house-elf that was standing under Lucius' arm. Not Dobby. Harry was relieved to find. Snape strode in, looked Harry once over and then curled his mouth in distaste.
How much had they heard? Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
"Don't stop on my account. Please explain to Potter how Lord Voldemort was a Slytherin, which in itself makes him guilty. And of course, Potter here is a Gryffindor which makes all the difference." Lucius laugh was ugly.
"Harry chose to be in Gryffindor, which makes him very different from Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said gravely. "It is our choices, Lucius, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."
"Indeed, and may Potter's choices serve him well!" Lucius said, tilting his head in mock acknowledgement.
Dumbledore was being sincere, but Harry had to fight the urge to roll his eyes at their stupid pissing contest. Voldemort was guilty! So, Lucius could go shove it! But he also knew that the argument that because he was a Gryffindor, it made him somehow better was ridiculous. Peter Pettigrew had been Gryffindor!
He flushed when he caught Snape's eye accidentally. He was staring daggers at Harry.
Merlin, did he hear me say that I could have been in Slytherin? Or that Voldemort transferred his powers to me?
"Is there something you wanted, Lucius? Have you come to threaten my suspension again? I am afraid you have arrived rather late. " Dumbledore added serenely.
"Yes, I heard from Professor McGonagall that the culprit has been caught," Lucius smirked as he glanced between Dumbledore and Harry. " Rather anti-climactic, wouldn't you say? For almost a year, we have been led to believe that muggle-born children are in danger at Hogwarts. Was it only last month that Arthur Weasley cited the Slytherin Monster as an example of why the Muggle Protection Act needed more teeth? And yet the very last victim turns out to be a pureblood child of Arthur Weasley who, unlike other 'victims', is found down in the Chambers itself? The blame then shifts to a Professor. The one now suffering rather conveniently from spell damage. "
"What are you trying to say? That Ginny did this somehow? That's stupid!" Harry couldn't help snapping, but he instantly regretted it as he saw the slow, sure smile spread over Lucius's face.
"It's Politics. Neither side actually cares for the truth of the matter. They just want something to argue about." Penelope Clearwater's words floated back into his head.
"By all accounts, Gilderoy Lockhart appears to be the culprit. " Dumbledore interjected smoothly. "Whether he is the Heir or not remains to be seen." The smile was gone from Dumbledore's face.
"Indeed, it must be Lockhart," Lucius drawled with utter lack of conviction. "well, I mustn't keep you. I am sure you will have your hands full with reassuring all the parents that their children are safe again at Hogwarts though no Slytherin Monster was found. " He chuckled as he swept out of the room. He didn't bother to acknowledge Harry at all.
Dumbledore was quiet. Too quiet as he continued to stare at the door that had closed behind Lucius. He looked at Snape, who just shrugged indifferently. "He wanted to see you. Minerva said you would be here."
Dumbledore sighed then turned towards Harry with a smile, but his eyes were not as bright as before. "Why don't we speak another time, Harry. You will be late for the feast! "
Snape was still staring intently at Harry when he left.
Dumbledore will convince himself that Lockhart is the culprit because it suits his purpose. Voldemort's voice floated into his head once he was outside the office. He had felt only the barest of stirring from Voldemort since the Chamber. Most likely suffering from the exhaustion of possessing Harry. If the culprit isn't Lockhart, suspicion shifts to the Weasley girl, Ron and you. And Dumbledore can't have that. The Weasleys are essential to his secret organisation, and you're his trump card against me.
I am not anyone's trump card! Harry thought viciously but was only met with laughter that rattled through his head and set his teeth on edge.
The last few weeks of school passed in a blur. Gryffindor had secured the House win thanks to the points they had been awarded for 'saving Ginny Weasley and apprehending Lockhart'.
Harry couldn't believe it. He had earned no points last year for going toe to toe with Voldemort, but this year he had been rewarded for following Voldemort's plan to the letter. He had to fight a grimace every time anyone congratulated him. It felt strange to be back to being everyone's favourite boy who lived after spending a year languishing effectively as the school pariah.
They were sat in the Hogwarts Express on their way home when Hermione circled back to what had become one of her favourite topics.
"I still don't understand how Lockhart could have learnt parseltongue. I have tried to learn it off Harry, and it's almost impossible!"
Ron groaned. They had this discussion at least once daily ever since she had woken up.
"Hermione, he wrote it in his book, didn't he? Learnt some basic commands from that wizard he met in his travels." It seemed unlikely that Lockhart would ever recover his memory, and his manuscript had become the only source of information. The contents were still top secret, but Flitwick had told Harry some of the details.
"I still can't believe that would be enough to command the Basilisk!"
"Maybe there never was a real Basilisk. They never found it did they? Maybe it was just Lockhart petrifying people."
"Don't be an idiot, Ron! I saw the basilisk's yellow eyes just for a moment before I was petrified. I am still not sure why its gaze wasn't lethal, though."
"Or you were just blinded by Lockhart's golden locks! It wouldn't be the first time." Ron quipped, then cried out in alarm the next second when Hermione hexed all of the cards he was holding to explode in his face.
Everyone in the compartment roared with laughter, and the topic was abandoned, much to Harry's relief.
They were almost at King's Cross when Harry excused himself from the compartment on the pretence of going to the loo. He made his way to the far end of the train and then, instead of the loo, snuck into the compartment three doors to the left of it.
The compartment was empty except for a single occupant. Voldemort was sat at the end reading a book.
"Harry, won't you come and sit? " Voldemort greeted, closing the book with a snap and pointing to the seat across from him. He looked for all the world like a sixth or seventh year at Hogwarts.
Harry should just stop being surprised by how easily Voldemort sometimes seemed to slip through Hogwarts and Dumbledore's defences.
"What do you want, Tom?" he drawled. The spike of pain in his head was well worth the flash of annoyance in the Dark Lord's eyes.
Voldemort hated his name. It had been his muggle father's name.
It was an insignificant little act of torture. But Harry would take what he could.
Voldemort, though had already recovered. Harry belatedly realised that Voldemort was looking forward to Harry's reaction to whatever he was about to propose. So naturally, this didn't bode well for him.
"Stop being such a creep! What do you want?" He snapped.
"Spend the summer holidays with me," Voldemort said simply.
Harry stared at Voldemort, waiting for him to laugh.
You're not joking! Are you mad?
Why not? Do you really want to go back to your muggle relatives for a whole summer?
That's not the point! Harry hissed, then switched to English. "How can you even think I would agree to this?"
"Harry, I have been living in your head for a year now. A summer spent living together is hardly scandalous in comparison to that. " When Harry opened his mouth to argue, Voldemort forestalled him, "and let us not rehash all the wrongs and crimes I've committed from when you were a year old. I thought we'd agreed to put your revenge plans on hold until at least after you've progressed beyond using cheering charms as your best offensive strategy.
Harry took a deep breath and tried to control his rage. Harry would have liked to wring Voldemort's neck. But, unfortunately, Voldemort was also physically stronger than him.
"And what about this year, then, huh? "
"Accidental for most parts, and then deliberately only to save you. Surely, you realise what a colossal fuck up it would have been if Granger had gone to Professor McGonagall with the information regarding the basilisk?"
"I would not need saving if not for you!"
"that's beside the point," Voldemort shrugged as he leaned forward, staring at Harry intently, "You don't want to go back to those muggles, Harry. But Dumbledore won't let you stay at Hogwarts. You would not ask your friends ever, and I can tell you that they will not offer on their own as Dumbledore has them convinced you are safer in the muggle world. So I am offering a third option."
Harry looked away. Voldemort was right. He had asked Professor McGonagall if he could stay at Hogwarts for the summer but had been flatly refused. And he could not impose on Ron or Hermione like that. They deserved to spend time with their own families without him tagging along.
And all of it came back to it being Voldemort's fault! But here he was offering a third option. Harry knew he should just refuse on principles. But going back to the Dursleys just to spite Voldemort didn't make sense. Voldemort could get through the wards in any case! And he could drag Harry away kicking and screaming if he wanted.
"Why? Why would you want this? Tell me why? And not some nonsense!" Harry said, leaning forward, unconsciously mimicking Voldemort's posture. The train was pulling into King's Cross. Any minute now, his friends would start looking for him.
"So that we could study the bond further? So we could brainstorm about how to get Black out. So that you can finally ask me how I planted that book in Lockhart's rooms? Take your pick." Voldemort listed out the reasons, his grey eyes flashing in humour.
Oh, he knew he was being baited. It was all things he was desperate to know more about. Except for the bond, that is. That he wanted to think about the least.
Voldemort seemed to know Harry had made up his mind. When the train came to a complete stop, he got up, pulled out his wand, and stared down at Harry expectantly.
"What about the Dursleys? You said that Dumbledore keeps an eye on me, right? Over summer? Won't he find out?" Harry asked even as Voldemort cast a quick disillusionment charm over him. His trunk appeared with a pop in the corner of the compartment.
"I've made arrangements," Voldemort said as he tilted his head to the windows. Harry started and then smudged his face against the glass to stare outside in surprise. Hermione and Ron were already off the train and were making their way to the enchanted entrance. They were laughing, talking animatedly and in their midst was his dark-haired twin dragging a near-identical trunk, nodding and smiling at them both.
"Polyjuice?" Harry shot Voldemort a look to confirm. " will that be enough to trick the wards? You cannot send a Death Eater to the Dursleys! Who?" but Voldemort was already sliding open the compartment door and stepping out.
"I am sure you'll figure that out eventually, Harry," he said over his shoulder. "After all, you've got all summer."
Author Notes
Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter everyone. It's almost as long as two chapters, so that's something, eh?
I know, I know a Basilisk is allegedly born of a chicken egg hatched by a toad, but come on, I just cannot in good conscience imagine Salazar Slytherin or Voldemort for that matter doing something like that.
Much of the story takes place in school and while I am happy to skip over cannon when it pleases me, there are certain sections that needed to flow parallelly to cannon here. A couple of lines here and there are therefore from cannon but tweaked mostly.
I struggled with Harry's reactions and actions and kept second guessing them. This chapter was hard to write. I wonder if that shows. This chapter finishes up the first arc in the story so I am still rather pleased to be done with it.
I love reading your comments and would love feedback! thank you for reading.