Author's Note: Time to get drunk and upload another chapter!

But seriously, this chapter got thrown together in a hurry, as I wanted to get an update out this weekend. If you come across anything that doesn't quite flow well, or basic spelling/grammatical errors, please let me know! I am happy to go in and make the necessary corrections.

As for the story, this is only the penultimate chapter of Harry's second year! Look forward to the next chapter, "Reunions," coming soon!

Chapter Thirty-Six – Dobby's Reward

Harry was beginning to welcome the idea of expulsion. Anything would be better than listening to Snape complain. The Potions Master had done nothing but berate Harry since they ascended the pipe back to Myrtle's bathroom, where the disappointed ghost had only lingered long enough to see that Harry was still alive, before sulking in one of the stalls.

Snape then began leading them to the headmaster's office, never tiring of hurling abuse at Harry along the way. He ignored Millie entirely, who followed them in silence, absently petting Fawkes's feathers for comfort. Harry regularly checked on her, taking comfort in her presence, even if she was pale and mute.

Meanwhile, Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Snape so loquacious, not even while insulting Longbottom during potions class.

"You must have a death wish," he concluded just as they reached the hidden entrance to the headmaster's office, "That, or you're as careless as your father. Either way, I'm beginning to see this sort of meddling will be a pattern of yours. Am I expected to rescue you from a hidden chamber every year?"

"You didn't rescue me," Harry replied, "I saved myself from Quirrell last year, and I saved Millie on my own just now. No thanks to you."

Harry's calm retort finally silenced the Potions Master, who was clearly shocked that Harry would have the audacity to speak to him in such a way. Harry didn't care. He'd already broken countless school rules, fought off a basilisk, and defeated Voldemort for the third time. He was tired, and it didn't matter anymore what Snape might do to him.

Harry pushed past him to ascend the moving staircase, conscious that if he waited for the professor to find his voice, he was likely to start raving again. As the steps reached the landing outside the office door, Harry paused just long enough to give Millie another glance. She met his eye and gave him a firm nod to show that she was ready, then Harry let the door swing open.

He thought he'd been prepared for this moment, that after the Chamber of Secrets, nothing more would surprise him. But he was completely wrong, because the scene in the headmaster's office was nothing like what he'd expected.

He expected a confrontation with Professor McGonagall, but it was not the Deputy Headmistress seated behind the desk. Instead, she stood at the elbow of Albus Dumbledore, who peered at Harry over his steepled fingers, while Millie's parents sat in chairs before him, their backs to the door.

Fawkes gave a soft cry of greeting and flew from Millie's shoulder to the perch behind Dumbledore. The disturbance caused the Bulstrodes to turn, and with gasps of surprise, they jumped from their seats and ran to her, pushing past Harry without taking any notice of him.

Mrs. Bulstrode was sobbing uncontrollably, and even Mr. Bulstrode seemed to find it difficult to keep from crying. Harry could hardly believe his eyes. It was hard to believe that the emotional pair in front of him were the same cold, unfeeling couple he'd met that summer.

Millie was as surprised as Harry. She was completely taken-off guard as her parents wrapped their arms around her, and it took her several moments to find her voice again.

"Mum?" she asked when she was sufficiently recovered, "Dad? What are you...?"

"They arrived as soon as Professor McGonagall sent word," Dumbledore said calmly. His voice had a soothing effect on them all, and Millie's parents were able to calm their effusions of relief, though Mrs. Bulstrode refused to relinquish her hold of her daughter.

"Naturally, your mother and father were deeply concerned about your disappearance," Dumbledore continued, "And I was no less anxious to return to Hogwarts to ensure your safety. Though it seems, thanks to Mr. Potter, we had nothing to fear."

He turned his blue eyes, shielded by a pair of half-moon spectacles, toward Harry, and for the first time the Bulstrodes took notice of him standing there. Mr. Bulstrode took a step toward him, and held out his hand.

"Thank you," he said, "Thank you for bringing our daughter back safely. I don't know how we'll ever replay you."

Harry accepted the handshake awkwardly, saying, "Don't mention it. It was nothing."

"It's not nothing to us," said Mrs. Bulstrode, her eyes shining with tears as she pressed a kiss to Millie's forehead, "You saved our little girl. We won't ever, ever forget that."

The embarrassing scene was enough to help Millie return to her old self. Blushing furiously, she squirmed in her mother's tight embrace.

"But how did it happen?" Mr. Bulstrode asked, "Why was Millicent taken?"

The moment for explanation had come, and Harry wasn't even sure where to begin. He needn't have worried, as to everyone's surprise, Millie wriggled out of her mother's grasp and stepped forward. Standing before Dumbledore, she placed both the Sorting Hat and the tattered journal on the desk. Harry stared at the diary. He hadn't even realized Millie grabbed it before they left.

"I did it," Millie said, "I'm the one who's been opening the Chamber of Secrets. I wrote the messages on the wall."

Mrs. Bulstrode gasped in horror, but Harry didn't give anyone else time to speak.

"It was Tom Riddle," he said, "He possessed Millie using that book, and then he tried to kill her."

"Tom Riddle?" blustered Mr. Bulstrode, "And who in blazes in Tom Riddle? A student?"

He looked to the headmaster for an explanation, and for once, Dumbledore's calm exterior betrayed a look of curiosity. Harry thought he detected a sign of recognition in his light blue eyes. He'd seen a younger Dumbledore in Riddle's memory. Surely Dumbledore remembered the name, but did he know Riddle's connection to Lord Voldemort? Did he suspect that the boy of fifty years ago and the man who murdered Harry's parents were one and the same?

"I think the time for explanations must wait," Dumbledore said, looking toward Mr. Bulstrode, "It has been a long night, and I believe Miss Bulstrode requires rest. Professor McGonagall, if you could escort Miss Bulstrode to the hospital wing? We will talk again in the morning."

McGonagall stepped forward, ushering the Bulstrode family toward the door with promises of hot tea and a room prepared for them in the castle. Millie hesitated in the doorway, stopping only to ask, "Does this mean I'm not expelled?"

Dumbledore smiled kindly at her, "No, Miss Bulstrode. Not expelled. Not this year, at any rate."

Millie cast one last look on Harry, who smiled at her as she headed out the door, her parents on either side. Millie's pardon gave him hope that he too would be spared expulsion.

Snape slipped into the office as McGonagall led the Bulstrodes down the stairs, and just like that, Harry's hopes were dashed. The Potions Master would undoubtedly do everything in his power to see Harry expelled. Convincing Dumbledore to do otherwise may prove more difficult than fighting the basilisk.

"So you met Tom," Dumbledore began, "How did he appear to you?"

"He looked exactly like he did fifty years ago, sir," Harry explained, "I think you must remember what he was like back then?"

"I do," said Dumbledore quietly. His gaze now moved past Harry to glance toward Professor Snape, sulking in a corner like a viper waiting to strike. Harry thought Dumbledore would ask him to leave, but luck was not on his side, and Dumbledore quietly motioned for Harry to continue.

"He was just a memory. He said he put a part of himself in that journal. When Millie started writing in it, he was able to control her. That's how she was able to open the Chamber. But she didn't know what was happening, sir. I swear she had no idea until it was too late."

"A part of himself..." Dumbledore mused aloud. "I think I understand you, Harry. And I can certainly understand why concern for your friend led you to follow her into the the Chamber. But tell me, how did you know where the entrance was hidden?"

Harry hesitated. So far, the simple truth had served him well. But if he wasn't careful, he was likely to incriminate more than just himself.

"It was the voice," Harry improvised, "I guess you must know by now that I'm a parselmouth?"

Dumbledore nodded to show that the news had indeed reached him, and the smallest of glances toward Snape revealed to Harry the source of his information.

Harry continued, "I've been hearing a voice all year. Almost always before an attack. First Mamon, and then Colin... I figured it must be a snake, because I seemed to be the only one who could hear it. Hermione was trying to figure out how it could be moving around the school..."

"Hermione Granger?" Dumbledore said, interrupting Harry's story for the first time, "So she knew of this as well?"

"She was trying to stop the attacks herself," Harry said, carefully avoiding her use of the polyjuice potion. Hermione had admitted to stealing from Snape's private stores to make the draught, and Harry wasn't about to reveal her secret with the Potions Master standing right there. "She's the one who realized the snake must be traveling through the pipes, right before she was petrified. And... And she also found out the snake was a basilisk."

From there, telling the rest was surprisingly easy. Harry explained, clearly and quickly, how the basilisk had managed to petrify its various victims, miraculously killing none. He was also careful to state, more than once, that Hagrid was innocent, and that Tom Riddle had framed him all those years ago. He did not mention his adventures in the forbidden forest, or Aragog, alive and well in the safety of the trees. He did, however, talk more about Tom, and how he had revealed his alter-ego to Harry in the Chamber. Dumbledore did not react to the news in the slightest, confirming Harry's suspicion that he already knew.

"It is an amazing story, Harry," Dumbledore said when he'd finished. He reached out a pale, bony hand and plucked the Sorting Hat from his desk, replacing it on the shelf where it normally rested. Turning to face Harry once again, he asked, "One question more. How did you defeat the Basilisk?"

Harry could feel the locket, still hidden under his jumper. It lay against his chest, as freezing cold has it had been when he first put it on. It had belonged to Salazar Slytherin. Of that, Harry was certain. That meant it was a relic of school history. But Slytherin had abandoned Hogwarts, and the locket came to Harry from the Sorting Hat. Didn't that make it his? Was it possible that he, and not Tom Riddle, had been the Heir of Slytherin all along?

Harry couldn't explain it, but he didn't want to part with the locket. And he certainly wasn't going to tell Dumbledore about it. The lie came to him more easily than he could have imagined.

"I already said, I'm a parselmouth," Harry replied, "All I had to do was talk to the snake, and it bit Riddle's diary instead of me. After that, they were both destroyed."

"Riddle... And the basilisk?" Dumbledore asked, raising his brows.

Harry shrugged, as if to say the mutual destruction baffled him as well.

"Forgive me, Headmaster," Snape said, stepping forward, "But I still don't understand one thing. How did Miss Bulstrode come into possession of such a dangerous object to begin with?"

Here was a question Harry had not been prepared to answer. He was still reeling from his adventure in the Chamber, he hadn't had time to consider where the journal had come from. They had spent all year believing the culprit to be Draco, and now...

Then he remembered. They had run into Lucius Malfoy and Draco that summer, hadn't they? It happened just after they left the bookshop. Mr. Malfoy was discussing the Ministry raids with Mrs. Zabini. He'd been to Diagon Alley, looking to sell some items that would "embarrass him." Harry could barely remember the incident now, but he knew Millie had insulted Mr. Malfoy, and he was angry. Could he have slipped the diary among her schoolbooks then? Would he really put the whole school in danger for such a petty slight?

He couldn't be sure. It was just as likely that Draco slipped the diary among Millie's books when they arrived at school, perhaps not realizing what dark magic the book secretly contained.

As he pondered, they were interrupted by the subject of Harry's thoughts, himself. Lucius Malfoy swept into the room, obviously arriving in a hurry, as he still had his house elf with him, nervously bobbing around his shoes in an attempt to polish them.

"Albus," he said, sneering at the headmaster, "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Lucius," Dumbledore said, countering Mr. Malfoy's open hostility with affable grace, "You seem harried. You seem harried. Would you like a seat?"

"No, thank you. I'd rather know why you have returned to Hogwarts, when the governors have asked for your resignation?"

"Oh, as to that," Dumbledore replied, "I have spoken to each of the school governors. It seemed that when word of Miss Bulstrode's kidnapping reached them, they felt it would be expedient of me to return to Hogwarts at once. Funnily, many of them seemed to be under the impression that you would curse their families if they did not order my resignation in the first place."

"How dare you?" demanded Mr. Malfoy, drawing himself to his full height, "And what have you done since your return? Has the girl been found?"

"Yes, thanks to Harry Potter. She has been saved."

Mr. Malfoy's gaze flashed onto Harry. For a moment, he thought he detected a flicker of fear in Mr. Malfoy's expression, but Harry was at a loss as to what it meant. He kept his gaze riveted on Harry, wetting his lips before addressing Dumbledore again.

"And the culprit? Has Harry Potter found that out as well?"

Dumbledore appeared extremely satisfied as he gave his response, "Oh yes. It was the same person who was responsible for opening the Chamber fifty years ago. Lord Voldemort."

Harry saw Mr. Malfoy flinch as Dumbledore pronounced the name, but he made no move to contradict the headmaster. For his part, Dumbledore acted as if he hadn't noticed Mr. Malfoy's discomfort.

"He used this," Dumbledore said, lifting the diary from his desk so that Mr. Malfoy could clearly see the hole in the cover, stained all over with blank ink. "Though I must admit, I cannot fathom how such a thing got into the hands of a student."

This comment confirmed Harry's suspicions. Mr. Malfoy was behind the attacks, and had attempted to frame Millie. Dumbledore must believe it as well, otherwise he would not talk to Mr. Malfoy in this way.

Mr. Malfoy had sufficiently recovered from his initial shock, and he was able to reply to Dumbledore's question with cool indifference.

"Well, let us hope that you do a better job keeping the school free of outside interference in the future."

"I intend to," Dumbledore said, the pleasant smile never leaving his face.

Mr. Malfoy made an impatient noise in the back of his throat, then ordered the house elf to leave off with his shoes before exiting the room as quickly as he'd arrived.

Harry watched Dobby go, feeling terrible for the elf who had done so much to help him over the last year. He wanted to do something to repay him. Then he had an idea.

"Now then, Harry" Dumbledore was saying as Harry considered the likelihood of his plan succeeding, "We must do something to thank you for everything you have done. A hundred points to Slytherin for starters, and how about a special award for services to the school?"

"I don't need any reward," Harry replied, "But if you don't mind, sir, could I have this?"

He pointed to the diary. Dumbledore glanced down at the cursed object, momentarily stunned by the request. Then he seemed to catch Harry's meaning, and his smile returned.

"I don't suppose it can do any harm to anyone now," he replied, "You may take it."

"Thanks, Professor Dumbledore!" Harry said, ignoring Snape's expression of horror as he snatched the diary from the desk and rushed quickly out of the office. He didn't want to allow Mr. Malfoy time to escape. He knew it was impossible to disapparate on the school grounds, but if Mr. Malfoy made it to the gates, he would be gone, and Harry would miss his chance.

He caught up to Draco's father just as he approached the front entrance of the castle. Calling out his name, he forced Mr. Malfoy to stop in his tracks, with Dobby peering at Harry from behind his master's robes.

"What is it, Potter?" Mr. Malfoy asked, obviously cautious, but no less curious to see what he would say.

"I know it was you," Harry said bluntly, "You're the one who gave the diary to Millie."

Mr. Malfoy saw the ruined journal clutched tightly in one of Harry's hands, and his eyes flashed in anger. Taking a menacing step toward Harry, he said, "Prove it."

"I don't have to," replied Harry, "All I have to do is tell Mrs. Zabini. Who do you think she's going to believe? You, or the Boy Who Lived?"

Mr. Malfoy was shaken, but not entirely convinced by Harry's bravado.

"And you think she could do anything to me?"

"Maybe not personally, but I know she has influence over the Minister. Probably even more than you. And your home has already been under suspicion once. I bet with things as they are now, she could make life very difficult for you."

Mr. Malfoy stepped back. His demeanor was less threatening now, but Harry could still see the expression of fury in his eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want you to free Dobby."

"My house elf?" said Mr. Malfoy in a tone of disbelief, "That's ridiculous! What do you want with him?"

"Free Dobby," Harry repeated, "And I won't say anything. Not to Mrs. Zabini, not to Dumbledore, or any other adult who could make your life hell."

Mr. Malfoy deliberated for a moment, then his obvious rage gave way to a chilling smile.

"I'm impressed, Potter. You drive a hard bargain."

"Does that mean we have a deal?"

"Yes, I agree to your terms. But I want the diary."

"Of course," Harry agreed, pulling the necktie from his uniform and handing both it and the journal to Mr. Malfoy.

Mr. Malfoy accepted he offering, though with a quick movement, he grasped Harry's wrist with his other hand, pulling him closer and hissing into his face, "Don't think this ends here, Potter. We will meet again."

He released his grip and tossed the necktie in Dobby's direction without acknowledging him. Dobby, on reflex, caught the slip of fabric in both hands, then he stood there, hardly believing his luck as his former master walked away.

"Congratulations, Dobby," Harry said, grinning from ear to ear, "You're a free elf."

Dobby lifted his gaze from the necktie to stare into Harry's face, his eyes swimming with tears.

"My master... Mr. Malfoy will not soon forget what you have done, Harry Potter," squeaked the elf. "Why? Why would Harry Potter put himself at risk for Dobby's sake?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not afraid of Lucius Malfoy. He knows what I'm capable of now, and I don't think he'll try anything soon without a better plan. But what about you, Dobby? What will you do now that you are free?"

"Oh, Dobby has spent many hours thinking of what he would do with his freedom!" Dobby exclaimed joyfully, "But these were only dreams! Now that it has happened, Dobby will take a vacation, Harry Potter, sir. Then Dobby will find work. Proper work, with wages!"

Harry felt so happy at the elf's exuberance, he almost felt like crying. Then again, the combination of mental and physical fatigue might have finally taken hold of him, causing the excess emotion.

"Good luck, Dobby," he said, offering his hand to the elf, "If you ever need anything, you can always find me."

Dobby accepted Harry's hand, for once not melting into a pile of ecstasy at a simple sign of friendship, and the two parted as odd friends.