A/N: So what happens if the adults take the Chamber of Secrets situation seriously? There's what amounts to a supernatural spree killer running loose in a castle full of children, for crying out loud! While I have more than a few issues with JK Rowling's writing, Year 2 has one of the most glaring 'how did nobody get sacked over this' plots in the series.

Petrification Proliferation was a fairly substantial influence on this chapter, and may have influenced the Ministry being more competent in general.

Fair warning, it will probably take me a bit longer to get the next chapters up; I had this one nearly finished when I initially published.

Reviews and constructive criticism are encouraged.

DISCLAIMER: Once again, I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or anything else.

Harry felt like something was decidedly off with their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Gilderoy Lockhart talked a lot, sure, but he didn't seem to actually have anything to back it up – and all the textbooks were his own works. If he'd been older, he might have immediately recognized it for what it was: grift.

"You see, Cornish Pixies can be quite dangerous…"

Vanora facepalmed hard enough that Hermione jumped a little in her seat. "This man is an idiot… he should see a Nac Mac Feegle if he thinks pixies are dangerous…"

Unfortunately, chaos ensued as Professor Lockhart opened the cage. Hermione managed to stomp one flat, but for the most part it came down to Neville actually knowing a charm that squeezed them all back into the cage at which point Lockhart latched it shut. "… that's quite enough for today! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione had her star-struck musings dragged back to reality by that; the House Point system hadn't been brought back. "… what…?"

Vanora sighed as they left the class. "He really is an idiot…"

Vanora barely managed to avoid sneezing; the attic of the Gryffindor tower was dusty, to say the least. "Ugh… when was the last time anyone was up here?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno! But if it's dusty, Fred and George haven't been here yet."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something and shut it; Ron was actually talking sense. She cast a few cleaning charms to get all the dust out of the way. "I guess we have a secret hideout?"

"Or a clubhouse." Harry looked around, noting there were a couple old pieces of furniture – three sofas and an armchair. "Looks like it seats ten." A cast of the repair spell each fixed them up.

Vanora brought over an old magic lantern she'd noticed in the corner. "There's a table in back, let's move it over together so we don't make too much noise. Then see what we can put together to make this a bit cozier."

Harry had managed to get his friends interested in the dueling club that Snape and Lockhart had set up; while it seemed Lockhart was an idiot, they might still learn something, especially given that Snape's favored house was in attendance.

"WHAT… is one of the most effective spells for dueling?!" Lockhart asked the assembled students; he noticed Harry raised his hand. "You there, Mister Potter! What do you think?"

"Disarming hex. Without a wand, a wizard or witch is in a lot of trouble."

Lockhart nodded. "Studious indeed! Without a wand, most wizards are no more dangerous than a muggle! Some may learn to cast without, but even so, it will greatly reduce their power and options!" Vanora silently wished she'd brought along her beads; those would have offered a unique difficulty in being disarmed. "I suppose Professor Snape would be so kind as to help me demonstrate?" He squared off against Snape, each professor taking one end of the dueling mat.

"Expelliarmus!" Snape smirked as Lockhart wasn't just disarmed, but flung backwards end-over-end, slamming into the ground; to the latter's credit, while it wasn't a graceful landing, he did avoid serious injury.

"Thank you… for the demonstration, Professor Snape." Lockhart groaned as he got up and retrieved his wand, certainly winded.

Harry, meanwhile, figured that would be an excellent spell to keep on hand. Plus, it was fun to watch Lockhart get beaten up. Snape cleared his throat. "Lockhart and I will each judge a duel. Volunteers first."

Vanora squared off against Damian; unlike many Slytherin house students she'd met, he seemed to have a sense of decency, which made her wonder why he'd been sorted there.

Snape nodded as they both entered their starting positions. "Begin."

"Expelliarmus!" Both of them cast at the same time, except Vanora dodged. Damian was left a bit shocked, but quickly conceded.

Snape sneered a little. "Damian and Vanora just demonstrated another rule of dueling: don't make yourself an easy target. Duck, weave, use what's around you to your advantage; you can never be sure if you will be quicker on the spell than your opponent." He glanced over to Draco and Hermione's duel, which was being overseen by Lockheart – the incompetent had let Draco summon a snake! At least it seemed stunned…

Harry looked at the snake that Draco had summoned during the duel with Hermione, crouching to get closer – making it look as if he was fixing his shoe. "Hey… what do you think about giving your summoner a scare?" he whispered, quite aware that being a Parselmouth was an unusual talent, and might draw some unwanted attention.

"Sure! He's a jerk!" the snake hissed back, slithering off. A couple seconds later there was an almost blood-curdling scream as the snake went into Draco's pants leg; Hermione hit him with a knockback hex while he was open, putting him out of commission.

Vanora leaned in. "Nice one!" she whispered, smirking slightly; Draco being injured or humiliated was always fun to watch.

Vanora didn't even notice Crabbe walking behind her as she left the dueling club… but that didn't last when he grabbed her tail. "HEY! Let go!"

"Nah." Crabbe had a sick smile on his face as he pulled, and it only got wider when Vanora screamed in pain.

"LET GO! THAT HURTS!" she yelled, kicking at him as best she could; while Crabbe was portly, he was also fairly strong, and Vanora was still a teenage girl.

Damian Argus ran over; he wasn't about to let this behavior stand, even if it was one of his housemates. "Hey! Stop that, let her go!" When Crabbe didn't, he grabbed at the heavyset bully and tried to pull him off; Crabbe finally let go when the Slytherin headbutted him in desperation, and Crabbe punched him right in the face in turn.

Vanora collapsed against the wall, crying in sheer pain, tail twitching – clearly dislocated. She was in no way able to cast spells in this state, and Crabbe was closing on her again. "… bod ceann…!" she whimpered.

"FLIPENDO!" Crabbe was launched backwards by the mother of all Knockback Jinxes, crashing into a pillar; Hermione stood tall, looking absolutely furious.

Damian groaned, staunching his bleeding nose with his robe. "Medic, for her, please. I'll be okay."

Another Gryffendor scrambled over to Vanora, getting out a muggle first-aid kit of all things. "Hey. Hey, eyes here. He's not going to hurt you anymore." The brown-haired and somewhat tomboyish girl clearly had a good idea of what she was doing.

"Mallachd Morrigan air bàsachadh ann an lasraichean…!" Vanora mumbled, head swimming. "… who're… you?"

"Katie Bell." Katie used a minor bodybind charm to stop Vanora's tail from twitching and making the injury worse, checking her over a little. "Alright, up nice and slow, we're heading for the infirmary."

Vanora nodded, tears still running down her cheeks. "T-thank you…"

"Thank me when Madame Pomfry has you fixed up." Katie slung her arm under Vanora's shoulders, helping to keep her steady as they walked to the infirmary.

Snape was absolutely livid as he stalked down the halls, ending in front of Professor McGonagall's office. "Minerva, a word?"

Minerva McGonagall looked up from her desk and nodded. "I presume you have heard about the incident with Vincent Crabbe and Vanora McKenzie?"

Snape stepped into the room. "Yes. While what he did is disgusting, Flitwick has argued he should be expelled outright." He glowered more than usual.

"And your suggestion?"

"Suspension, immediately. Then disciplinary probation for at least the rest of the year." He took a slow, calming breath. "We do not immediately expel students for their first major offense!"

McGonagall was, inwardly, pleased; Snape had become more reasonable about his House ever since the cancellation of the House Cup. He was also correct here, though it was a guideline and not a rule. "I agree. If he offends again-"

"If he offends again I will personally see to it that he never returns to Hogwarts!" Snape just barely stopped himself from shouting. "Pardon me."

Professor McGonagall was unruffled, setting her pen aside. "Accepted." For once, she actually understood where Snape was coming from; if she'd seen that level of cruelty from one of her students, she hoped she could prevent herself from flying off the handle, but she didn't know for sure. "While he does have a previous disciplinary record, his actions seem unusually heinous. Perhaps you should consider sending a letter to his parents, see if they can offer insight?"

Snape nodded. "I already have." He frowned as he quickly checked the time. "I have a potions detention to run, so I must be going. Have a pleasant evening, Minerva."

"You too, Severus." McGonagall watched him leave and sighed. She was glad Vanora wouldn't need long to recover – Katie Bell's actions helped a great deal. But something bothered her about Crabbe being so violent…

Flitwick gaped a little in shock at the petrified form of Collin Creevey. "Oh no. Oh no." He immediately summoned McGonagall for help getting the poor boy to the infirmary – he was fairly certain he could do it himself, but he was rather worried he might damage the boy's statue form. This would be delicate.

"Flitwick, what… oh god!" McGonagall was not one for being shocked, but this was something out of her worst nightmares. "I was about to ask if you'd found another ghost petrified, not…!"

They looked to each other for a moment, the back at Collin, then to each other again. Flitwick looked far grimmer than any student had ever seen him. "We have a problem. First move Collin to the Infirmary, then we go to Dumbledore."

Professor McGonagall nodded and helped him lift Collin very gently. Two petrifications in such a short time; her immediate thought went to a spree killer, but who would know how to petrify people? That was extremely difficult magic, though it wasn't out of the question to that someone might use a magic device instead…

Ron stopped halfway into the attic. "What… why is a fox sitting on the table?" he managed to get out despite his immense confusion. Indeed, there was a red fox sitting on its haunches, glaring at them, tail softly wrapped around its' feet.

Hermione blinked and cocked her head, but brandished her wand. "I'm not sure. How did it get in here…?"

Harry was quite confused as well; that was when the fox jumped off the table and morphed into Vanora. "You lot are late! I've been sitting here for the better part of an hour!" the kitsune said, sitting down on the armchair with a bit of a huff.

Harry was the one to react this time. "What… are you an animagus?"

"I'm a kitsune. We can naturally turn into foxes. Foxes which are very hard to notice. Don't spread it around, I like people not knowing about it!" She motioned them over.

Ron sat down, a thought working through his head. "… so would it be possible for you to have an animagus form too?"

"Far as I know, no kitsune has tried." Vanora sat down, bringing out her notes. "Right. So I got talking to my dad about this; he's really worried and figures we're all about to be sent home. Harry, you said you heard a snake in the pipes?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Did you tell him I'm a Parselmouth…?"

Vanora shook her head. "No, I figured that was something you should reveal. Look, out of the list of 'creatures with deadly or petrifying gazes' – remember, Hermione, you figured Collin might've only been petrified because he saw it through his camera, which has mirrors in it?"

"Yes! I've been carrying one around just in case, since it's better than being… dead." Hermione held up the hand mirror she'd stuffed into her pocket.

Vanora paused, looking through the list her father had sent her. "Well, there's actually a couple snakes on here. Which doesn't tell us much, but basically all of them are 'crazy dangerous' by my dad's standards." She let that sink in. "We need to let the adults handle this, but if the teachers don't take it seriously, we'll have to do something; too many people are in danger!"

While they had no way of knowing it, at that moment the adults were taking it seriously.

Rufus Scrimgeour was very happy that Dumbledore had called the Ministry for assistance, instead of risking the lives of the students under his care. "I believe the Aurors are cleaning up right now; that dreadful snake was quite a difficult monster to subdue. I wonder how it survived so long down there?" He smiled slightly as Sirius Black entered. "Good to see you've been keeping your nose clean, Mr. Black! How's Harry been doing?"

Sirius Black did not consider Scrimgeour a friend; however, he had a measure of respect for the man. He also remembered how much of a turnaround that election had been; Fudge had not expected such stiff competition after Albus Dumbledore refused to run, much to the idiot's dismay (and the relief of anyone with half a brain). "Nice to meet you too, Minister. He's been doing alright, considering that he's been hauling around Voldemort in his head and just had him removed." He looked over to Dumbledore. "Dumbledore, you know what this was."

Dumbledore nodded. "Minister Scrimgeour and I both agree; this was an unconventional terrorist attack by the Death Eaters." He shook his head. "Vincent Crabbe was given Tom Riddle's diary, and discovered how to open the Chamber of Secrets."

Scrimgeour steepled his hands. "We caught the man who dropped the diary: one Lucius Malfoy. He was so surprised when we got him dead to rights." He had a smirk on his face that would chill the soul of a Dementor. "The list of charges is more than enough to put him in Azkaban for life. Attempted murder by proxy, endangering the welfare of hundreds of children, unleashing a Dark Beast, malicious use of a dark artifact, providing a dark artifact to a youth… that's just the big ones. He'll be going under Veritaserum – and before you ask, we have him under heavy guard at all times, and in a cell which makes it impossible to kill yourself. The guards are thoroughly vetted, I'm not going to let him slip through my fingers."

Sirius was a bit chilled by that smile. "… you seem to be rather enjoying that."

"Please, Mr. Black, I've known exactly where Lucius stands for years – but I haven't had a chance to expose it." He sighed. "I only wish it could have come sooner, or with fewer casualties. But sometimes that's just how it goes. Now, to another matter."

Dumbledore nodded. "The horcruxes. Twisted, pitch-black magic that Voldemort has used to surpass death – after a fashion. Thanks to some information acquired by the Aurors, we know he created seven… one of which, as you have been made aware, was an unintentional one: Harry Potter."

Scrimgeour let out the most relieved sigh Sirius had ever heard from the dour man. "Thank Merlin we were able to destroy it safely. If not, Voldemort could have resurrected himself in the young Potter's body, and I cannot imagine what he would have done to the child. There are fates worse than death out there…"

Sirius knew what that meant; if it'd been a choice between that and Harry being executed, Scrimgeour would have gone for the latter – humanely, at least. It still chilled him to the core. "Well, what about the other seven?"

Dumbledore sipped his tea quietly. "The Ministry has contracted several Curse-Breakers to deal with the matter; the Diary and Quirrell were two. Counting Harry, almost half of them have been destroyed." He set his tea down for a moment. "My greatest concern is how desperate this might make him."

"And desperate men are the most dangerous," Scrimgeour confirmed. "Marching Aurors up and down the school halls would be a terrible idea, but I will see to it that several squads are kept in reserve to respond to Death Eater attacks, and one is stationed near enough to the school that they can respond quickly – even if they cannot floo in. I've already gathered up several anti-terrorist squads in anticipation that we'll be getting names out of Lucius." He sipped his tea. "And I'm sorry that you'll be needing to find another Defense teacher again."

Sirius gave Minister Scrimgeour a confused look. "… wait, what happened to Lockhart?"

"He's going to be arrested shortly. Turns out that he stole other people's stories and made them his own." Scrimgeour was grinning like a schoolboy on Christmas. "That insufferable git is about to get what's coming to him."

Lockhart was glad that he seemed to have gotten out of all of this in one piece; he paused in his daily walk as someone approached, a man he recognized. A scarred Armenian warlock. "Do I… know you?"

"Oh you very fucking well know me. You took credit for my work!" The man glowered at him, Aurors walking up behind Lockhart. "Unfortunately for you, I'm paranoid enough to Pensieve my memories!"

Oh SHIT. "Now now, this is all a-" Lockhart let out a soundless yelp as he was silenced and cuffed with a charm from the one Auror.

"You're under arrest for fraud and identity theft." The Aurors smirked as they lead him away. "Fortunately for you, being an insufferable git isn't a crime."

A/N: Turns out, if the adults do their job a whole lot of trouble can be avoided entirely! I don't know if Lockhart being arrested is more cathartic than him breaking his own memories, though it has the advantage of leaving him able to comprehend how far he's fallen.

Speaking of which, why not Fudge? Because I couldn't imagine Fudge being competent. He's worked into office by Lucius Malfoy specifically because he's a useful idiot; Scrimgeour might have problems, but he's far more canny, especially this time around.

The Gryffindor Attic is a continuation of a theme I've seen in several Harry Potter fanfics, namely a 'secret clubhouse' where the group can get together after-hours and retain privacy. It's disused, dusty, and has seen better days for sure; but it doesn't require sneaking about in the halls to get to.

Katie Bell isn't an OC, but she barely shows up in the movies or books, so I'm making a lot up as I go along. And speaking of that scene, apologies if my Scots Gaelic is stilted or otherwise a mess; I'm limited to Google Translate.

So next year's plot is already solved – after all, no need to get Sirius out of Azkaban, or find Peter Pettigrew. From here on, expect a fair bit of extra content per year.