Disclaimer: All characters, events, and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, respectively, everything else is my own invention.
The Potter Timeline
Year 2 Episode 17 - The Shadow Within
The holiday break passed too quickly for Harry and Hermione when second term arrived shortly after the New Year and all the students returned. But they quickly fell back into class routine.
Professor Sprout's Herbology continued to be held inside Greenhouse Three which, in the dead of winter, seemed permanently coated with frost on the outside and permanently chilly inside. Everyone bundled up for warmth as they listened to Sprout explain that the mandrake plants were now into their late teen stage - more mellow and less noisy. In a couple of months, she informed them, they should be ripe enough to make the restorative serum for Mrs. Norris.
Professor McGonagall began teaching the second-years mental exercises to increase their magical ability in order to transfigure larger objects such as chairs and luggage trunks - part of their second-term curriculum. Professor Binns' History of Magic was off the schedule - like the previous year - and Snape's Potions class was substituted in its place. After lunch, they only had Lockhart's DADA class and Flitwick's Charms - Grade 2. But similar to second term the previous year, they would be attending Intermediate Astronomy with Madam Sinistra at the top of the Astronomy Tower, midnight of every first and third day of the week. And once again, neither Harry nor Hermione were looking forward to freezing their bums off during that class.
The Ministry Aurors had taken a week's break from their duties at the school and returned shortly before second term began. Their task was to find the Chamber of Secrets and dispatch its predatory inhabitant. But while they scoured every known level of the dungeons, Slytherin's chamber remained elusive with no clue to either its whereabouts or how the monster had entered the castle itself. Professor Dumbledore even temporarily removed the blocked doorway to the First-Floor Girls' Restroom to allow the investigators a chance to examine where the creature might have exited. But nothing seemed apparent or out of place. This stumped everyone. Salazar Slytherin was clearly no fool and had hidden his Chamber quite well. After the headmaster resealed the doorway, the search went on.
Within the first couple of weeks of January, Harry's continued clarity of mind and improved memory was manifesting in an impressive academic boost. To his classmates' astonishment, the Boy Who Lived was impeccably answering rather difficult questions posed by his professors, performing near perfect on the first few quizzes, and excelling in his homework. His performance was even outstripping Hermione's in some areas. By the second week of this, the girl was becoming suspicious.
Flitwick held his first Charms exam on a Wednesday. Besides the Light Spell, which Harry and Hermione already knew, the man tested the class on their recent studies of the Repelling Spell, the Feather-Light charm, as well as the Hover charm. Harry finished the exam a full ten minutes before Hermione. Though the girl was surprised at this, she said nothing.
The following day, the professor handed back their graded papers. When Flitwick laid Hermione's parchment down before her, Harry glanced over and saw she had received 104 percent with a few remarks correcting various points in her answers. He smiled at her, and she grinned in return. Flitwick then laid down Harry's paper. Hermione joined Harry in gazing at his exam and her eyes went wide. Harry scored an incredible 112 percent - a perfect score with no correcting remarks and a few short remarks of praise.
Well done, Harry! Excellent work!
Harry beamed at Hermione, thrilled at his best exam results since he arrived at Hogwarts. The girl only half-smiled back with a puzzled look, however. After exiting the class, they proceeded to Gryffindor Tower to drop off their books. Harry was glowing inside from his performance.
"So, this is what it feels like to be top of the class," he remarked with a chuckle at the girl, "no doubt you live on cloud nine most of the time. I can understand it now."
But Hermione only nodded at him, her face still showing puzzlement.
"Harry...how did you do so well...again?" she inquired, "according to Flitwick, no one has aced that exam in decades."
Harry suddenly felt offended at his friend's question.
"I studied, Hermione," he answered a bit annoyed, "you know that. We went over the material a few days ago, remember? And it really wasn't that hard, to be honest."
Hermione frowned.
"But, Harry, the bonus questions on Repello and the Hover charm weren't in any of the materials we studied. They were more speculative to see what knowledge we might possess beyond the curriculum. Where did you learn the answers to those questions? Not even I did well on them, as you saw."
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. A surge of anger quickly rose within, and he glared hard at the thirteen-year-old.
"What are you accusing me of, cheating?!" he asked sharply.
Hermione was stunned and threw a wide-eyed look at him.
"No, Harry," she answered mystified, "I'm just...puzzled, that's all. Ever since Snape's class last term, you seem to know things you shouldn't, all of the sudden."
Harry felt an incredible energy course through his body all the way down to his fingers and toes. He was seething.
"The questions really weren't that hard, Hermione!" he hissed at her rather loudly, drawing wide-eyed stares from students walking around them.
Hermione was embarrassed and swallowed hard, baffled by Harry's behavior. He went on.
"I bet you're jealous, aren't you!" he shouted at the girl, "I guess you're fine if I remain dumb and ignorant while you go on and make top marks all the time! Is that it?!"
Hermione was both shocked and hurt at her friend's accusation. But her hurt quickly changed to anger.
"No, Harry!" she replied with a fierce expression, "I'm worried about you! Something is wrong! You have to see that! You shouldn't know the things you're rattling off at your level of training!"
"My level?" Harry asked incredulous, "what level is that? Troll?!"
"Harry, listen to me..." Hermione appealed to him while stepping closer to the boy and putting a hand on his arm. But this only angered him further and he shrugged her hand off.
"No, Hermione! Leave me alone!" he shouted.
"Harry, wait!" Hermione said.
He turned and left a very downcast girl behind him. Fuming and feeling like he was going to explode magically, he huffed off toward Gryffindor Tower.
The Fat Lady didn't even bother to wait for Harry to utter the password. When she saw him approach, something terrible in his eyes and expression caused the woman to shrink back in fear and she simply let the portrait open for him. He marched straight into the common room without so much as a glance at her.
Several students were hanging out inside the room, studying and conversing with one another. When Harry entered, something in his demeanor caused everyone to stop and stare wide-eyed at the boy. He ignored them and shot up the stairs to his dorm.
"PENNY-FARTHING!" he shouted angrily at the door.
After it opened, he rushed in and threw his books on his bed, dropping down on the floor and sitting up against its end to let the anger subside. After closing his eyes and breathing for several moments, the anger left him. When Harry finally regained his senses and opened his eyes, he was struck by what just happened. Thinking back over the argument with Hermione, he realized how overblown and ridiculous his behavior was. She was concerned about him, and he exploded at her beyond what was reasonable or normal. As he thought further about it, he'd never felt anger that intense before. And that energy rushing through his veins - what was it and where did it come from? Harry was both perplexed and alarmed.
What just happened?!
But then, a terrible thought crossed his mind: Tom Riddle.
Perhaps he wasn't gone after all. Perhaps he was still very present...inside him!
Harry recalled Riddle's threatening words to him from the memory in the Hall of Reflection.
"...Voldemort is my past, present, and future. I am a part of him, and now...a part of you..."
"Oh no!" Harry uttered in shock.
Pale-faced and breathing heavily, the boy shot up from the floor and bolted out of the room. He then dashed down the stairs into the common room, glancing around for his best friend.
"Excuse, me. Has anyone seen Hermione?" he asked desperately.
"She just went into her dorm room, Harry," Melissa Shane told him from the study table she sat at with two of her fellow third-years.
"Thanks," he responded and hurried to the stairwell leading to the girls' dormitories.
"Hermione!" he called out as quietly as he could, "Hermione!"
The door to the landing of the second-years' room opened and the fluffy-haired girl appeared. She gazed down at him with a sad look. This broke Harry's heart.
"Hermione, I'm so sorry! I...didn't mean to snap at you like that. I think you're right and I may be in real trouble. Can we talk?"
Hermione's face now changed to teary-eyed relief. She bounded down the steps toward Harry, grabbed his hand, and led him out of the common room. Once in Tower Hall, they headed for the fourth floor and the Spellroom. Hermione opened the door and they headed inside. She closed the door behind them.
Harry took both her hands in his.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you like that. I know you're just concerned about me. I hope you can forgive me."
Tears in the girl's eyes sparkled under the light of the candelabra as she threw him a half-smile.
"It's okay, Harry. I forgive you," she said while squeezing his hands gently.
Harry smiled at her with relief, deep emotion appearing on his face.
"It's Tom, isn't it?" Hermione asked with a worried expression.
"I think so. I've never felt that angry or felt such incredible energy in me before. It just...took me over!"
The girl squeezed his hands a little harder.
"Well, that explains how you know things technically only a sixth-year should know. But this is the first time it's manifested in a bad way. We need to tell Professor Dumbledore about this."
The boy with a deeply worried look of his own, nodded at her.
"You're right. Hopefully, there's something he can do. Let's go."
The pair exited the Spellroom for the main corridor below. When they reached the gargoyle statue, Harry stepped up to it.
"Lemon Drop," he uttered.
Nothing happened. The gargoyle didn't move.
"Lemon Drop!" he said more loudly this time, as though the statue might not have heard him the first time.
But still, nothing.
Harry and Hermione exchanged concerned looks.
"Let's find Professor McGonagall," he told her.
She nodded and they marched off to the woman's office. Arriving before it, Harry knocked.
"Come!" the professor uttered from inside.
The door opened and the pair rushed inside and straight to her desk.
"Harry, Hermione," she stated with a furrowed brow while laying down her quill.
"Professor, we need to speak to the headmaster right away! Do you know where he is?" Harry asked desperately.
"Professor Dumbledore is attending the International Confederation of Wizards conference and won't return for another week," she told them.
"A week?!" Harry uttered wide-eyed. McGonagall leaned forward.
"Yes. What's wrong? Is there something I can help you with?" she asked.
"I don't know, professor! But I think Dumbledore was right! I think...Tom Riddle is inside me now! I may be in trouble!"
The woman's eyes went large.
"Are you certain of this?" she asked.
"No doubt you've noticed Harry's academic work lately, professor," Hermione said, "and he knows things only an advanced student should."
McGonagall frowned at Harry.
"I must say I've been astonished by your performance, young man. I was hoping it was a sign of increased effort on your part. But if what you say is true, then that explains your excellent grades. It's Riddle's performance we've all been witnessing."
Hermione and Harry exchanged glances. The professor continued.
"I'd hazard a guess then that this...'soul transference' occurred when you wrote in Tom's diary and saw his memories," she stated with that stern expression of hers.
"We think so, professor," Hermione answered.
The woman in green robes pursed her lips.
"While we have benefited from viewing Tom's memories obtained from the diary, it appears the consequences of doing so are coming home to roost. Yet another hard lesson to learn about rashly acting before thinking, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered forlornly with a nod.
McGonagall breathed out in exasperation then continued.
"Unfortunately, Harry, I can't help you with this as it's not my area of expertise. Soul possession is an extremely rare and difficult subject, one that barely a handful of wizards and witches have any knowledge of. But I'll send an owl to Professor Dumbledore apprising him of the situation. I doubt he'll be able to return before the end of the conference, however. As Supreme Mugwump, he's required to preside over it."
Harry frowned.
"But what can I do in the meantime? I just had an angry outburst with Hermione. If Tom is indeed a...part of me now, something worse could happen!"
McGonagall threw that look of motherly concern at the boy.
"There is someone here at Hogwarts who is skilled in another area of magic that's similar. He may be able to help you temporarily. I'll speak to him and get back with you. But until Professor Dumbledore returns, you'll have to be as careful as you can."
Harry nodded again.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Very, well. You may go." she replied.
The second-years exited her office.
"Well, this is all really bad," Harry uttered while gazing at the floor as they headed back to Gryffindor Tower, "from my discussion with Dumbledore last year, he confirmed a part of Voldemort got lodged in me when he used the killing curse on me as a child. And now, it seems another part of his soul is inside too."
Hermione gazed at floor herself in thought.
"So, that's what Riddle was doing in the Hall of Reflection. He was deliberately trying to put part of his soul into that diary of his."
"Yes. And we now know Tom wasn't lying when he told me he no longer needed the diary - he has me instead."
Hermione's face scrunched up in worry, and she took one of Harry's hands.
"Well, I hope whoever McGonagall said might help you can truly do so."
"But who could she be referring to? Flitwick? I can't imagine anyone else among Hogwarts staff having formidable skills against dark wizards, unless you count Lockhart. But I don't buy his tripe for a second."
"I don't know, Harry. I guess we'll find out soon enough."
That afternoon, the pair busied themselves with schoolwork in part to distract their minds from this disturbing development. Though while they plunged into homework for various classes, Harry had a dread fear Tom would come out again simply by engaging with the material. Harry found himself wondering whether his answers to questions now were really his...or Riddle's.
Later, Harry and Hermione sat with their friends in the Great Hall for dinner. Dean and Seamus were spending more time laughing at the latest Funnies from The Daily Prophet than eating. Neville was trying to eat his ham and cheese sandwich with Luna sitting next to him leaning her head on his shoulder. The dotty girl was rattling on about a clan of tiny, Scottish imps who dwelled in the attic of the Lovegood residence. But Harry and Hermione remained quiet as they tucked into a plate of roast beef and vegetables with a few glasses of hot cider.
Just then, a brown and white striped school owl flew down and delivered a letter between the pair. They stopped and stared at it. Harry then opened the envelope and they both read it silently.
Harry,
Professor Snape has agreed to help you, as I mentioned.
Please report to his office at 7pm this evening.
Professor McGonagall
The second-years gawked at one another.
"Professor Snape?!" Harry uttered to the girl incredulously.
This didn't bode well.
~HP~
Harry descended into the dungeons at five 'til seven. A simple jaunt from the main corridor to the first floor of the lower levels caused the temperature to plunge to an uncomfortable degree. It wasn't a surprise, therefore, that Professor Snape's office, located not far from the potions classroom where Harry and his fellow second-years attended, could be found here. The air temperature in this part of the castle was as cool and discomforting as the man himself.
Harry stepped to the office door, took a deep breath, frowned, then knocked. He had no idea what help Snape could possibly give him to deal with the piece of Riddle's soul now seemingly lodged inside him. But he trusted Professor McGonagall's apparent confidence in the greasy-haired man, nevertheless.
"Enter!" Snape's voice pierced the door from inside.
Harry opened the door and walked in. He was immediately struck by the pungent scent of a spicy incense of some kind which made his nostrils flare. Then, the gloomy atmosphere of the space hit him. The oblong room with a slightly domed ceiling was lit not by a cheery candelabra, but by several candles on tall black poles strewn throughout. Harry felt like he had entered one of those haunted house attractions at the Fun Fair he went to with Dudley and Uncle Vernon once. And the shelves of objects lining both walls and an open cabinet at the back added to this creepy atmosphere.
Numerous, liquid-filled jars containing wings, torsos, limbs, and even scary-looking eyeballs of various creatures were intermingled with similar jars containing plants of different kinds. And the open cabinet revealed multiple bottles, beakers, and vials containing who-knew-what inside them. There was even a large cauldron in the corner with something boiling in it as well as what looked like a complicated glass contraption for distilling liquids.
The potions professor's desk sat dead center of the room with a couple of chairs in front of it. The wizard was busy doing paperwork and didn't even look up at Harry.
"Close the door, Potter," he uttered with his usual monotone droll.
Harry did so and stepped up to the desk.
"Be seated," the man commanded, again without looking up. Harry complied.
For several more moments, Snape continued in his paperwork and said nothing. Harry waited and buried his hands in his robe pockets to remove some of the coldness in them due to the chilly air. Finally, the man stopped writing, laid down his quill, and looked at Harry, clasping his hands together on his desk.
"So, Professor McGonagall has informed me of your...predicament and asked me to help you deal with it until the headmaster returns," he told the boy with a blank gaze as though he'd rather not bother.
"Yes, sir," Harry responded.
The man gazed coldly at him.
"Very well. But understand, Potter, I possess no power or ability to stop...his influence over you, if indeed a piece of...Riddle's soul has intruded within. My specialty is Occlumency, not exorcism."
Harry's brow furrowed.
"What's Occ...lumency, sir?"
"Occlumency is a branch of magic which focuses on preventing an intrusion into the mind, by someone referred to as a Legilimens."
"A...Legilimens?"
"Legilimency is the art of penetrating a target's mind to gain information, detect lies, and even plant false memories or thoughts so as to confuse, distract, or disorient one's victim. An Occlumens, therefore, practices thwarting such intrusions. Both are subtle, but powerful arts which are not generally taught here at Hogwarts. However, that is not why you are here. I doubt you would have the ability to master Occlumency anyway, Potter, especially at your age and with your...rash disposition."
Harry frowned at this subtle jab by the professor but said nothing. Snape continued.
"As it is, Occlumency focuses on external threats to the mind, not internal ones. So, the exercise I am about to teach you may not work at all in your particular case. However, there is one thing Legilimency and soul possession have in common: both prey upon emotions. A person who is highly emotional and wears their hearts on their sleeves is most susceptible to intrusion and influence by a Legilimens and possibly...an unwanted intruder of the immaterial sort. Therefore, I will teach you a basic technique that can help you control your emotions, something which you, Potter, are particularly in need of."
Again, a subtle jab, but Harry simply nodded at the man. Anything that could help him prevent another outburst like the one he had with Hermione was welcome. Snape gazed hard at Harry for a moment then continued.
"Very well. Let's begin. Close your eyes and relax."
Harry shifted a little in the rather uncomfortable wooden chair and did so.
"Now, empty your mind and clear your head of any thoughts or feelings, particularly the latter," the man said and with these words, Harry could tell Snape had risen from his chair and was slowly walking around the room. The wizard continued.
"A busy mind is an invitation for someone or something else to penetrate it - heightened mental and emotional activity are ways in. You are to give no quarter to an intruder in this manner. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
The professor waited silently for several moments as Harry did what he instructed.
"Is your mind clear?" he asked.
Harry nodded.
"Good. Now, focus on your breathing - a slow, easy breath in and out from your stomach without undue effort."
Harry did this for several moments. And as he did, he felt his entire body relax almost to the point of sleepiness. But then, Harry became aware of a strange...noise of some sort on the right side of his head. This "noise", which was the only way he could describe it, wasn't harsh, it was just...there, like a constant chattering of some sort. Puzzled, Harry unconsciously focused on it and the next thing he knew, his breathing became erratic, the noise grew in intensity, and sweat began forming on his forehead.
"What's the matter?!" Snape snapped at him, clearly seeing the boy's physical discomfort.
"I...don't know, sir. There's something in my head..."
"Ignore it!" the man interrupted him sharply, "concentrate, Potter, on your breathing."
Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and relaxed once more, trying to push the noise out of his conscious awareness. After a few moments of this, the noise died down to a low hum.
"Now," Snape continued, "I want you to recall a memory. Any memory. It doesn't matter which so long as it meets these requirements. Choose a memory of a time where you were confident, where you exuded strength, even patience under fire - assuming you have such a memory, that is. But do not choose a memory which might draw forth strong emotion, either good or bad. Is that clear?"
Harry nodded. Snape continued.
"Now, Potter, relax, breathe, and...remember..."
The twelve-year-old did this and scoured his mind for such a memory. Then one popped into his brain.
It was the final Quidditch match against Slytherin, second term of the previous year. He sat on his Nimbus high above the pitch. He gazed at the opposing Seeker, Terence Higgs, across from him. He then nodded at Higgs respectfully in the same manner Cedric Diggory did to him...
Confidence.
Waiting for the Snitch to appear, Harry thought of Dumbledore's words to him after the confrontation with Quirrell, words which resonated ever since...
"...some of the best weapons against dark wizards are not wands and magic, but rather...discretion and patience..."
Patience.
Then the Snitch appeared - Higgs rushing after it while Harry remained poised and still, like Cedric. After finally hurtling downwards, he dropped his Nimbus right in front of Higgs, blocking the Slytherin and preventing him from catching the golden orb...
Strength.
Reliving this vivid moment in time, relaxed in body and mind, he felt confident and calm...
"LEGILIMENS!" Snape suddenly shouted and Harry found himself in a dark place of some kind - somewhere within his mind.
He turned and saw a flash of memories before him: lying in his bed in the cupboard under the stairs, meeting Hermione on the Hogwarts Express, running to the Gryffindor table after his sorting, flying over the Forbidden Forest, saving Hermione in the Hall of Reflection, reuniting with his friends on the Express for their second-year...
But it seemed as though these and other memories were someone else's and Harry viewed them calmly as if merely watching images on a telly screen. Turning in his mind's eye, he encountered a radiating light of some kind which was attempting to get to the memories behind him. But Harry stood in the way. As the boy focused on the strange light, it faded and then disappeared altogether. Harry's eyes shot open, and he was stunned to find the potions professor standing at his side pointing his wand at his head.
Harry swallowed hard.
"What just happened?" he asked, confused and disoriented.
The professor, a stunned look on his face, lowered his wand and returned to his chair behind his desk, pushing his black cape aside before sitting down. He then leaned forward and placed both palms on top of the desk.
"What memory did you choose, precisely?" the man asked with a furrowed brow.
"The Quidditch match, from second term of last year - the one where the Bludger hit me in the side," Harry informed him.
Snape's eyes narrowed at him.
"Why, sir? Was that not good enough?" Harry asked.
Snape sat back in his chair and pursed his lips.
"I must say, Potter, I'm...impressed," he told Harry in his cold manner and clearly finding it difficult to say this to the boy.
Harry's eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped at this unexpected praise. Snape went on.
"Somehow you managed to block my legilimens attack...your very first try. It might be latent talent on your part, or...it might be sheer dumb luck. Whatever the case, I'd say you might, I repeat, might possess the potential to resist Riddle's influence, though I can't guarantee anything."
Harry lit up at this, astonished at the results. Snape, seeing this, however, frowned.
"But! Do not become arrogant and think you've mastered Occlumency or any other art you've never tried before!" he uttered severely.
The boy nodded at him.
"Yes, sir," he replied. Snape went on.
"Now, remember this exercise and anytime you sense something attempting to override or penetrate your mind, I want you to stop and return to that memory. Remember - relax the mind, breathe, and focus on it. That memory, Potter, could be the only guard against his attacks. Is that clear?"
Harry nodded.
"Yes, professor. It is."
Snape then took up his quill and gazed at the parchment on his desk once more.
"You may go," he simply stated and began writing.
Harry stared at the man in wonder, then rose from the chair and headed for the door. But after opening it, he stopped and turned back around.
"Professor?"
Snape stopped writing and frowned deeply, annoyed that Harry interrupted him. He then looked up at the twelve-year-old.
"Thank you, sir," the boy told the man sincerely.
Despite Snape's harsh manner and gloomy disposition, Harry was grateful someone at Hogwarts had seemed to help him. But the potions master simply stared at the boy with pursed lips then went back to writing without uttering a word. Harry left and closed the door behind him.
~HP~
"There you are! How did it go?"
Hermione shut her Magical Theory book she had been reading and jumped up from the armchair in the common room as soon as Harry appeared from behind the portrait. The boy walked over to her.
"It was...different, to say the least. But better than I expected. Professor Snape might have actually helped me," he told the girl.
"Wow, really?"
Harry nodded. The pair walked over to the two chairs by the window to discuss this privately as a couple of sixth-years were engaged in schoolwork at the study table. Harry regaled Hermione of all that happened in Snape's office. Hermione sat back wide-eyed.
"That's amazing, Harry! I've only read a little about Occlumency, but from what I gathered, it's really difficult to master. The fact that you did it your first time is incredible!"
"That's what Snape said too. But he seems uncertain whether this will work against Tom if he tries to take over again."
Hermione thought carefully about this.
"Well, according to what he told you, it sounds like you need to stay away from situations that might invoke strong emotions, then."
"Exactly. That's precisely where Riddle will try to find an outlet to break through. And in the meantime, I'll continue working on the exercise he taught me."
That night, as Harry lay inside his four-poster, he closed his eyes and practiced breathing while focusing on the Quidditch match again. It seemed harder than when he did it earlier as a multitude of facts kept swimming in his head from the two-hour study session he and Hermione held before going to bed. But after several minutes, the boy found himself relaxed and confident. But just before falling asleep, he noticed that chattering sound in his head again. It lasted only a brief moment before Harry lost consciousness.
~HP~
The next day was uneventful as Harry and Hermione attended classes as usual. During Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall informed them she sent an owl to Professor Dumbledore and was awaiting his reply which might not come until the weekend. Harry and Hermione were both anxious to know what the headmaster would say.
But on Friday, a surprising - and for the two second-years potentially disturbing - development occurred. After lunch period in the Great Hall was nearly finished, the students in attendance heard the clinging of a glass from the High Table. Everyone looked up to find Gilderoy Lockhart standing on the table itself.
"May I have your attention, please!" he started with that toothy grin of his, "I have an announcement to make. When lunch hour has finished, will all second-years please remain behind. I, your humble Dark Arts professor, will be holding a special Defence Against the Dark Arts class right here, in the Great Hall itself. Thank you."
The man gleamed at the four tables, spun on his heels, and hopped from the table back onto the floor. The second-year Gryffindors all looked at one another.
"I wonder what this is going to be about?" Seamus asked.
The others shook their heads in puzzlement.
Once the rest of the students had left, Lockhart walked into the space before the High Table.
"Everyone gather here next to me!" Gilderoy shouted.
The second-years stepped forward and stood on either side of the professor.
"Now then," Lockhart uttered while gazing at the entrance to the Hall, "where are they? Ah! There they are!"
The students turned to find Hagrid lumber in next to Professor Snape. They made their way toward Lockhart and the students, both of them looking in a grumpy mood. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other with furrowed brows. Once the caretaker and potions master arrived, Gilderoy smiled at the pair.
"Thank you both for coming! With your help, I'm sure this will be a great success. Now, Rubeus, would you be so kind as to set up our 'stage' as we discussed earlier? One table should do the trick, I think!"
Hagrid, with his arms crossed, frowned at Lockhart unhappily.
"Right, professor," he muttered, uncrossing his arms and pulling his wand from its holster while turning to face the tables.
His face scrunched up and he put a hand to his chin in thought, looking slightly embarrassed with all the students and the professors watching.
"Let's see now, what was it Flitwick said again? Ah! Right!"
The half-giant cleared his throat.
"Mobilimensa!" he shouted while flicking his wand left then right.
The Gryffindor table shuddered slightly before the enormous object skidded across the floor with a grating sound and stopped up against the wall. The Ravenclaw table then shifted toward the Slytherin table in the same manner, and both bunched up against the opposite wall, leaving the Hufflepuff table alone in the middle. Hagrid smiled, looking rather proud of himself. He turned and gazed at Harry and Hermione who beamed at the man. He winked back.
"Excellent, Rubeus!" Lockhart said with enthusiasm, "that should do just fine. Now! Everyone gather on either side!"
The students split up and approximately twenty each stood on both sides of the long table. Lockhart hopped up onto the seating at the end and then bounded onto the top. He glided gracefully to the center of the table with an enormous smile.
"No doubt each of you is wondering what this is all about. Well, I have the pleasure of informing you that Professor Dumbledore granted my request to form a dueling club here at Hogwarts..."
The pupils looked at one another wide-eyed, excited whispers breaking out among them.
"...the purpose of which is to train you all to defend yourselves as I have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works."
The man chuckled. He went on.
"But before the club meets officially for its first session, which, by the way, will be right here in the Great Hall, every Wednesday at eight, our esteemed headmaster suggested I first hold a little demonstration, a taste, if you will, of what you'll experience. So, without further ado, let's begin, shall we?"
Lockhart untied his lilac-colored cape and flung it at a group of girls standing nearby, expecting them to fight over it and sigh. Instead, they all stepped out of the way and the cape landed on the stone floor. Students on both sides snickered. The wizard stretched his arm out toward the end of the table.
"Let me introduce my assistant for this afternoon, Professor Snape! Professor, step on up!"
Snape, who was standing at the end with arms crossed and a foul look on his face at first didn't move. But he then uncrossed his arms and made his way to the table, stepping up onto the top, his death stare not leaving Lockhart for an instant.
"Our dear potions master has sportingly agreed to help me with a brief demonstration, before we pair each of you up and begin the training proper. Professor?"
Lockhart turned and walked a few paces toward Snape. Snape did the same until they stood some ten meters apart. They each pulled their wands.
"Ready?" Lockhart asked while bringing his wand forward with his free hand above his head in a fencing stance. Snape simply frowned.
"Perhaps, professor, you should teach the students proper dueling etiquette first?" he said half-sarcastically.
Snickers erupted from the second-years.
Gilderoy's eyes went wide then he smiled while gazing at the pupils around him.
"An excellent suggestion, professor!" he said. The man cleared his throat.
"Now, hold your wand at your side like so."
He and Snape did this.
"Then, bring the wand before your face in this manner."
Both did this with a swish of their wands, holding them tip upwards.
"Return the wand to your side."
There was another swish.
"Bow respectfully to your opponent."
Snape leaned forward, bowing only slightly while Lockhart merely bowed his head.
"And finally...take your stance!"
At this, Lockhart resumed standing with his wand at the ready like before. Snape followed suit though with his wand pointed at the wizard above his head while his free hand was pointing forward.
"Ready? One - two - three..."
"Expelliarmus!" Professor Snape uttered, swinging his wand arm around and aiming it straight at Lockhart before the man could even open his mouth. A reddish light erupted from Snape's wand hitting Gilderoy square in the chest causing him to fly off his feet and crash down onto the tabletop with a thud. The man's wand flew from his hand at the same time and fell between the Slytherins.
Laughter ensued.
Lockhart rose and laughed along with them in an attempt to erase his embarrassment. Pansy Parkinson handed the man his wand. Lockhart cleared his throat again.
"Thank you, Miss Parkinson," he replied while turning back to Snape, "that was a Disarming charm, students. And an excellent idea to show them that, professor, though, if I might say so, it was rather obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been all too easy..."
Lockhart, receiving an ugly glare from Snape, swallowed hard then smiled again.
"Yes...well...enough demonstrating! Let's see what you have learned so far, students. How about a couple of volunteers?"
The wizard began scouring the students on both sides. Neville backed away red-faced while shrinking down, not wanting to be called. Ron and his pals threw sour looks at one another, and the Slytherins all stepped closer to the table as though hoping to be called. But then, Gilderoy turned and looked at the Gryffindors, his face lighting up.
"Harry Potter! Step up, young man, and show us what you've got!"
Harry's eyes grew large, and he gulped. Hermione turned and grabbed his sleeve.
"Harry, no!" she uttered quietly, "this is exactly the kind of environment you don't need to be in!"
He looked at the girl and frowned.
"Right," he uttered with a nod.
But Lockhart was now standing over him with that toothy grin of his. Harry looked up at him.
"I'd rather not, professor, if you don't mind..."
"Oh, don't be silly, Harry! It's just a simple duel! No doubt you have plenty of talent for it!"
The wizard reached down and grabbed Harry's collar, pulling him onto the seating toward the tabletop.
"But, sir! I..." he protested before he found himself standing on the table with every eye upon him.
Harry glanced back at Hermione whose face showed deep worry now. Harry then threw a gaze at Snape giving him a knowing look, hoping the potions master, who knew his situation with Riddle, would intervene and have him dismissed from the duel. But to his surprise, Snape looked back at him, frowned, and shook his head, with an equal knowing expression. The man was going to allow the duel to take place anyway! Harry was stunned.
"Excellent! And now young Potter needs a worthy opponent. Who's willing to..."
Before Lockhart could finish, Draco Malfoy shot up onto the table and stood right in front of Harry, throwing him a smirking glare. The Slytherin seemed eager to finally get in a duel with his nemesis.
"Ah! Mr. Malfoy!" Lockhart said, "perfect! Now then, take your positions and prepare yourselves."
Malfoy turned and walked away, standing ten meters from Harry, spinning back on his heels to face him. Harry's heart hammered, and he looked at Snape once more. This time the professor nodded once as though saying to him: "remember the exercise". Harry understood and closed his eyes momentarily, breathing in and out deeply. In the remaining fraction of a second, he thought back to the Quidditch match and tried to get his mind cleared and confident. But before he could even imagine the scene in his head, Lockhart interrupted.
"Alright. Draw your wands."
Harry opened his eyes and pulled his from his pocket, Draco mirroring him.
"Bow to your opponent."
The pair brought their wands up, back to their side, and then Harry bowed slightly. But Malfoy refused, merely throwing Harry a very ugly look.
"Right, then," Lockhart intoned with a serious expression, "take your stance!"
Harry placed his right foot forward of his left, pointing his wand hand forward with his right while holding his left by his side. Malfoy mimicked Snape's stance and was breathing hard, eager to begin. Harry tried to relax, however, breathing in and out as the professor taught him.
"When I count to three, cast your charms at your opponent to disarm, and disarm only! Ready duelers? One - two..."
"Everte Statum!" Malfoy shouted before Lockhart could finish and with a swish of his wand, a violet light flew at Harry.
But out of instinct, from the dueling sessions he and Hermione had practiced in the Spellroom, Harry immediately shifted right and bladed his body. Draco's spell hit nothing. Harry instantly pointed his wand at the Slytherin.
"Impedimenta!"
The blast hit the blond in the chest and knocked him flat on his back. Laughter erupted from all but the Slytherins.
"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted wide-eyed as though losing control already.
Draco sat up and glared hard at Harry. He then shot up from the table and stepped two paces forward.
"Obscuro! Flipendo!" Malfoy uttered quickly with two separate wand movements.
Harry's vision went blank as he felt something wrap around his eyes. The next thing he knew, he was flipping upside down and crashed onto the tabletop, wincing from the pain in his side. Anger began to stir as he reached up and yanked off the blindfold across his face. He glared at Draco and stood. The students on both sides were silent as the grave at this row and Lockhart, his face pale, seemed helpless to do anything. Snape, however, watched this unfold with a stern face, stepping forward with his wand at the ready.
Harry returned to his stance, pointing his wand at Malfoy with a fierce look. Intense energy began filling his body to his alarm. Noting this, he tried to back down, but suddenly found himself...out of control! The boy felt that seething energy flow through him.
"BAUBILLIOUS!" he uttered before he knew it and the students who knew the charm gasped.
'NO!' Harry thought in shock.
Lightning flew from Harry's wand at the Slytherin. But before the spell hit Draco, Snape stepped forward and pointed his wand between the second-years.
"FINITE INCANTATUM!" he shouted.
There was a small explosion of light and Harry's lightning charm dissipated. Snape then grabbed Malfoy's sleeve to pull the student behind him. But the blond shrugged off the professor in anger and reengaged with Harry.
"SERPENSORTIA!" Draco shouted.
A huge black snake appeared from out of the tip of his wand and landed with a thump onto the table. The second-years on both sides jumped back and several girls screamed. The snake, hissing and flicking its tongue in anger, slithered toward Harry. At first stunned, Harry stepped forward and pointed his wand at the snake.
"Stand down! Stand down!" he commanded it.
The snake stopped and looked up at him.
"Yes...master..." it replied.
It then curled up and became still. Harry was astonished. But before he could do anything else, incredible energy caused his body to seize up. To the boy's horror, his wand arm raised up and pointed at a student standing frozen in surprise by the table - the Hufflepuff kid, Justin Finch-Fletchley.
Harry's head turned back to the snake.
"KILL THE MUDBLOOD!" a voice from within him uttered.
'NOOO!" Harry cried out to himself, unable to control his body.
"Yes...master..." the snake replied, raising back up and heading toward the second-year student who stood paralyzed from fright.
The black serpent was just about to strike its victim.
"VIPERA EVANESCA!" Snape shouted while pointing his wand at it.
The snake instantly dissolved into thin air with a hiss. The students gasped.
But Harry, still out of control physically, could only watch as his wand arm lowered, his head pointed at Justin, and his face contorted into rage. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott, standing on either side of Justin, each grabbed his arms, trying to get the boy away from the table...and Harry.
But Harry was panicking, trying hard to relax and recall the memory from his exercise. But it was no use. Riddle had nearly taken over.
"Potter."
Harry heard Professor Snape addressing him but was unable to turn his head or reply.
"Potter," the man uttered even closer now.
'Back away, professor! Back away!' Harry cried out within, but no words came out.
Snape, wide-eyed and cautious, placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. In an instant, Harry shot an angry glare at him.
BANG!
An explosion erupted from out of Harry's body. It sent the potions master flying. He hit the end of the table and then fell onto the stone floor, unconscious.
Harry heard several students scream before he blacked out and collapsed.