The snake who lived

Book 2: The Chamber of secrets

"Harry Potter is safe in his cage, sir!"

Dobby, Harry Potter et la Chambre des Secrets, page 21

The readers suddenly find themselves sitting in a rather large, green-toned show bar, on identical metal chairs, in front of identical… plastic tables written Fisher-price on them. The bar owner and barman was apologizing loudly to a group of angry girls, explaining that he had blown off his pathetic author-induced budget simply with the chairs. The lights slowly dimmed, causing the noise to fall identically. Soon, only the green-draped stage was lit up, and the carefully concealed speakers – hidden as curtain-covered speakers – begin blowing out voices, evidently from behind the curtains.

"But… sir, Dobby no know—"

"Shut up! Now go up in front, read the text and receive whatever they throw at you in the face." A self-willingly demonic, echoing voice said. Of course, the electronic amplifier lit up on the stage, with cables heading behind the curtains, had absolutely nothing to do with it.

"…you is crueler than my masters, Akuma-sama sir."

"Thank you. Now go."

A kick later, little Dobby stumbled into the stage, bearing a piece of paper that had evidently seen better days, days where it wasn't massacred with chicken scrawl that a certain author that shall remain nameless was forcing him to read.

Giving a nervous look at his audience, Dobby cleared his throat and began to read. "Akuma-sama sir would like to apolagw… em… apologize?" The elf gave a look at the curtains, where a fist, bearing a cheap, ten bucks, electronic watch brought him back to attention. "Er… apologize it is, to his wonderful readers, and would like to spank them for the wait… erm… THANK them!!" The elf squeaked quickly. One or two readers gave a disappointed groan.

"School, being the… ditch it is, has bit off a rather brge…. Barge piece of his tune… Akuma-sama sir, that makes no sense…"

"Just keep reading, Dobby." Exasperation on a demonic voice is not something you forget easily. Even if it's not electronically changed. Certainly not.

 "…ok…" The elf squeaked, before looking down and continuing the lecture. "Oh… it Time. Make more sense… almost. Akuma-sama sir would like to add that the fusion of this chqpter… is that how it said?" A threat later, Dobby continued, a bit faster. "also made the wait longer, fordng him to write two chapters before updating."

By now, the speakers publicly report that Dobby is a intellectually challenged animal of canine descent, at least on the mother's side, with a disability to read languages written in 'Author's personal notes' font. Of course, the fact that said font is only readable by their writers didn't strike him. Even if he is writing this presently.

Ignoring the insult, Dobby continued. "Akuma-sama sir would like to finish by saymg that all reweivs are wekome, all flames will be mercybssly deskoyed and any physical punishment can be inflicted to Dobby by the time he reads this… er… Akuma-sama sir? I think Dobby made mistake… er… where did Akuma-sama go? Why is public staring at Dobby like this? …why overweight lady taking out baseball bat? ACKKK!"

As Dobby is being crushed in the background, one of the readers sigh and grin. "Well, I said it before. Dobby torture is fun. …Ok Draco, metal baseball bat or spiked club? …Definitely right. One metal spiked club, barman!"

"Certainly." The barman said happily. Perhaps with all the weapon sales he did today, he'll be able to buy decent tables.

…As the storm cleared, Akuma-sama, dressed in a black cloak hiding his face, steps up on the stage. "Without further ado and only another merciless kick on Dobby, here's the chapter!" He declared, giving said present to the rather maimed elf.

Chapter 1: The Dobby Dilemma


A Harry in hysterics burst into his room, laughing at the face his uncle had made. He started to wonder if the Dursleys had chameleon blood in their veins when he finally managed to take control of his laughter – requiring a lasso and several kilometers of metal cables – enough to open his eyes and turn them toward his bed.

And boy did his laughter stop.

Sitting on his bed was the strangest creature he had ever seen. And that, considering the number of critters he had seen in the previous year, was something. Small, barely reaching to his hips from where it was, it had a pair of large, bat-like ears along with two enormous, globular green eyes the size of tennis balls. It was also dressed in disgusting rags, which must have once bore roughly the looks of a pillowcase.

"What in the world…" Harry wondered out loud.

The creature slid from the bed, where Nemesis was unnaturally coiled, apparently knocked out as he was about to strike, and bowed so low it's nose almost touched the floor. 

"Harry Potter, sir, I is honored to finally meet you!" It said in a very high pitched voice.

"Lower your tone!" Harry hissed. "You'll get the Dursleys here!"

The creature nodded and blocked it's mouth with long, skinny hands.

"First, what are you, and what are you doing here?" Harry demanded.

"I is Dobby, Harry Potter sir. Dobby the house elf." It said much more quietly.

"House elf, eh?" Harry said, remembering the submissive sub-species of elves usually serving rich wizard families like the Malfoy's. "Who are your masters?"

"…" The house elf seemed to wonder whether or not to tell him. Seeing as his answer wasn't coming anytime soon, Harry decided to let it drop. The last thing he wanted was for the elf to punish itself.

"Can you tell me why you're here for, then?" He repeated.

"Dobby is here to warn you, Harry Potter sir… Harry Potter must NOT return to Hogwarts!"

"What?!" Harry hissed, before catching himself. "Any reason why?"

"There is a plot to make terrible things happen at Hogwarts… Harry Potter must not return!"

Harry snorted. "I'm not likely to stay here, Dobby." He said before sitting down on the bed. "What did you do to Nemesis?"

"It about to attack Dobby, Dobby just defend himself!" The house elf said, before waving a long, bony finger toward the unconscious snake.

"Uh, what'sss going on?" The snake hissed as it groggily opened his eyes.

"A house elf." Harry simply replied, before turning to Dobby. "And I'm not staying here."

"Harry Potter has to!" The house elf squeaked, jumping up and down in an attempt to look forceful. "Harry Potter must stay here, where it's safe!"

"Are you doing this to every Hogwarts student?" Harry asked.

"No, just Harry Potter."

Harry stopped to think. Why would a house elf, who is a creature pledged to follow a family's order until they're either freed or dead, come especially to him? Could Draco have sent him?

"Do the Malfoys know you're here?"

"No…" Dobby squeaked nervously.

"Ah, so you are their elf." Harry guessed immediately. 

The elf's eyes went wider, almost growing as big as a children bowling ball. With a squeak, he bounced on Harry's desk, startling a resting Hedwig into letting out a squawk, grabbed the lamp and would have smashed it on his head had Harry not grabbed the lamp an inch in front of the elf's head.

"If you need to punish yourself, do it outside. The Dursleys would kill me if they knew you were here." Harry said. "And then that… plot would be the least of my worries."

The house elf nodded slowly, then sat down on the desk, twisting his ears all the way down .

"So, about staying here, my answer's still no chance in hell. Besides, if I don't come back, my friends would come and get me out of here."

"Friends?" Dobby asked, smiling slyly. "Friends who don't write to Harry Potter?"

The Slytherin part of Harry's mind clicked, looking at the creature's grin. "Wait a second, how do you know I haven't got any letters?!"

The elf's grin visibly faltered. In fact, his entire posture now screamed of anxiety. Nervously, one of his hands went inside the rags that made his clothing.

"Ah, so you have them on you, then." Harry guessed with a frown and a cross of his arms, before locking the window. He moved directly in the elf's path to the door.

"Don't even think of getting out with those." He threatened.

"D…Dobby thought he was doing good… make Harry Potter think his friends have forgotten him so he wouldn't want to go back to Hogwarts…"

"Do I have to say it in a dozen languages, Dobby? I will go back to Hogwarts." 'Hope he doesn't take that suggestion seriously, I only know English.' He thought.

"But Harry Potter be in danger…"

"And that's a new situation, why? Now give those letters."

"Not unless Harry Potter promises not to go to Hogwarts!" Dobby exclaimed loudly.

"Fine, I promise." He lied.

"A truthful promise!" Dobby snapped.

'How in the world did he know I was lying?!' Harry wondered. Certainly the elf wasn't able to read the author's words, right? Erm… *Blush* Whoops, slipped.

"That's like asking me to be truthful at saying 'I love Dudley to bits!', it's as possible as the moon suddenly deciding to tan it's back side with some earth rays!" Harry exclaimed.

"Then Harry Potter leave Dobby no choice."

The elf promptly ran directly at Harry and leaped up high above his head, rebounding on the wall before breaking into a run downstairs.

"Oh no, no, no!!!" Harry hissed in horror, following him as fast as he could. Fortunately, the Masons were gone, and the Dursleys were listening to the television, talking loudly and celebrating on their deal; they didn't hear the two enter the kitchen.

The scene that welcomed him in the aforementioned room was quite horrifying, at least to Harry. The elf was levitating the pyramid of priceless crystal glasses, that aunt Petunia had taken a good hour to carefully install, rather close to the roof.

"Dobby, no... put those glasses back on the counter…"

"Harry Potter must promise not to return to Hogwarts!"

"Ok, I wont!" He lied again.

"Harry Potter is lying again… Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter sir, but Dobby must do this…"

And he let go.

*CCRRAASSHHH*

The pyramid shattered into a billion of pieces directly at Harry's feet with a deafening crash. Horrified, Harry was frozen on the spot. The voices in the living room immediately stopped and, instead, quickly approaching footsteps came to his ears.

"Dobby is sorry again, Harry Potter sir, but Harry Potter is safe here..." The house elf said, before vanishing in a pop of smoke, just before an irate Vernon Dursley burst through the door…

…imagine the scene he saw. Harry Potter, who had just been scolded, alone, in the kitchen while he should have been in his room, standing in front of an enormous pile of broken glass that turned out to be the extremely expensive crystal glass collection of Petunia's.

It was easy to explain why he flipped.

Harry quickly whipped out his wand and sprouted green sparks out of it.

"Stay back, or I'll turn you all into toads!!" He threatened.

The Dursleys visibly faltered. There was one weapon they didn't have, and it was magic. And the prospect of being turned into anything but the abnormally normal people they were wasn't enchanting, pardon the pun.

And as Harry was about to try a hasty retreat, an owl burst through the window, throwing a letter directly at Vernon's face.

…a letter bearing the ministry of magic's crest.

Vernon ripped the letter open and read it, his tint going from a furious purple to an ecstatic, yet enraged, red. With a sinister grin, the man passed the letter over to Harry, who read it and felt his hopes drop down all the way to the basement of hell.

    Dear Mister Potter

   We have been informed that a levitation spell has been used in your residence tonight at 9:50.

   As you are aware, first class wizards are not authorized to throw spells outside of school and any recurrence could lead to your expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, article 1875, paragraph C).

   We must also remind you that any practice of magic liable to be seen by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is an offence punished by the article 13 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

    Please enjoy the rest of your holidays. ('Not likely.' Harry thought darkly.)

    Mafalda Hopkirk,

       Improper use of magic office

      Ministry of magic

Seeing the demented, diabolical glint in Vernon's eyes, Harry gulped. His summer suddenly looked much less enjoyable.

'Damn that ministry.' Harry cursed mentally.

"You didn't tell us you couldn't do magic during the summer…" Vernon began, almost deliriously.

Harry tried to steady his voice as he said "It must have slipped out of my mind…"

"I am so sure." Vernon growled.

~~*~~

Harry Potter's summer went from 'Supportable' to 'GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!' in the span of the next five hours. First thing in the morning, Vernon had installed thick bars to his window, had locked Hedwig inside her cage with a large padlock, had locked Harry's own door with a large chain-lock and another that needed a key, which Vernon did a show of always carrying with him like some kind of lucky amulet, protecting it like a seal holding a demon captive.

Harry was effectively locked in his room, unable to go out except to go to the bathroom once a day, and for only talking companion the sarcastic and slightly annoying Nemesis. Add to it the fact that, with three occupants in the room, the meals aunt Petunia slid him through a small slit in the door were not nearly enough, it made Harry want to try sliding through the bars to escape.

"We could alwaysss cook the owl."

"Get that idea out of your head, Nemesis."

The only good point of Dobby's visit, however, was that he received the letters he had been missing. Hermione, Blaise and even Ron had written to him, their letters he had found laying innocently on his bed after the elf's disastrous departure.

  Heya Harry!

How 'zit going? With the Dursleys around, I can guess not too good, right? Well, I'll bet you don't want to talk about your summer – not that I could listen from all the way out here – so here's how mine is going so far:

Boring.

Yup. Nothing's going on!! I'M FREAKIN' BORED!!! All we're doing is visiting aunts, uncles and grandparents that the last time I visited I had as much vocabulary as Crabbe on a slow day.

The only good point is that the temperature is perfect. Only problem with that is that Italian wizards don't like to be outside. Result? More than half the time, we're stuck indoors, listening to old grandmas rant about 'Kids these days', Inflation or other problems that I don't give a damn, all the while being smoked alive by pipe-smoking uncles…

Write me back, I need something to amuse me, at least until it's time to go back to Hogwarts!!

Grumblingly yours,

     Blaise.

Harry snorted. Blaise, the hyperactive, dark-cherry haired Slytherin who was usually his neighbor, couldn't stand to have nothing happening around her. Getting a bit of comfort out of the fact that one of his friends' summer was as miserable as his – maybe not as bad, but enough to lift his spirits -, he continued to look at the letters.

The next one was from Hermione, the bushy-haired Gryffindor know-it-all.

   Harry,

Next time you send your owl here, try to ask it to wait in my room. You cannot imagine the scene it did when it tried to fly in through the window and mom closed it in it's face. It was a bit funny, and fortunately it didn't look hurt

…I still don't know it's name though.

No matter. I was surprised when it didn't carry a letter, though… is it some kind of message for me to write? Very thoughtful of you, I haven't got an owl myself, and Errol, that's Ron's family owl, is a bit old… I would have felt bad to borrow it.

How are things on your side? I hope the Dursleys aren't too horrible. Things are pretty much normal over here. I've had enough time to re-read last year's books and do my homework (Which I hope you've at least started). – Harry could almost feel the girl's stare from the paper. Did you receive anything from Blaise or Malfoy Draco?

I have got to stop spending so much time around Ron, his bad habits are rubbing off on me. If this keeps up, I'll start forgetting my lessons.

'And Hell's first snow day will be declared.' Harry mentally snorted.

Reply soon,

Hermione

Harry sighed and put it down. Reply soon, she had written.

'As if I can.' He grumbled mentally, glaring at the offending bars on his window and wishing them gone straight to under Dudley's mattress, imagining them being squashed flat under the extreme weight of his cousin, suffering and screeching in agony as their life escaped them…

…of course, since those were mundane, lifeless and regular metal bars, they weren't likely to yell and suffer, even under the 'Dudley pressure torture'.

Picking up the next one, from Ron, Harry began the difficult job of deciphering the boy's chicken scrawl.

    Harry

Message from Hermione, she's asking why you didn't reply her letter. Is everything going all right on your side?

Harry guessed it had taken a word from the girl to force Ron to write to him. No matter, he had expected the same. While their relationship had gone a long way from hatred, it was still far from being total friendship. The red-head still bore some distrust for him.

…then again, he did the same for all Slytherins.

She's really worried about you, it's been a full week since she wrote to you. She's about ready to use the Felepbone… well, that's what she wrote. I have no idea what she's talking about.

You'd better reply, or else,

Ron Weasley

'I think I'll have to risk the 'or else'.' Harry thought, once again wishing horrible suffering to the bars on his window.

A full week passed and the Dursleys didn't change. Dudley made it a daily ritual to walk up to his room early in the morning, to open the trap door and bully Harry while eating an ice cream cone, a piece of cake or whatever other unfortunate sweets that ended up under his considerably large hand.

Harry was quickly tired of this. Hungry and angry, the boy made sure to stay close to the door, on the Monday of the second week of July, listening to the footsteps in the hallway. Dudley's were heavy, slow and generally came with him opening the slit and bellowing "BOO!!" with all his lungpower. Petunia's were quick and very hard to notice, as she was so light.

However, it was the third set, also slow and heavy, but not quite as much, that interested Harry.

"Uncle Vernon!" He called through the slit as soon as his uncle passed by.

"What, Boy?!" The man grumbled, glaring down at the opening.

"You do realize that if I don't get to Hogwarts, they'll come here and get me, right? And they won't be very happy if they see how I've been treated…"

Vernon's voice didn't come right away. But when it did, it was with a grumble of:

"Thanks for sharing."

…and no food came the next day.

…nor the day after.

The Dursleys had sunk to a new low.

The next four days were hell for Harry. His stomach was protesting, grumbling loudly at the injustice of it all while smashing away at his belly with jagged hammers. On the fifth day, he was laying down in his bed, with barely enough strength to lift an arm, surprised at still being alive.

He would have tried to escape using magic, already, if he didn't feel like the smallest levitation charm could finish him off.

The only one to still have energy was Nemesis since, as he kept repeating, to the boy's general annoyance, snakes eat a lot less than humans. However, even he was getting hungry.

That day was spent like the other ones. Moving as little as he could to save energy, Harry kept trying to sleep, and trying to ignore the pounding in his stomach – which certainly was not an easy feat.

However, that night, he was awakened early, pulled out of a dream in which he was gleefully teasing a starving Dudley – the imagination required to create that image is far from being within human reach – while eating the various sweets with an exaggerated ecstatic expression on his face. Behind him, Vernon was locked inside a bird cage hanging over an open fire and Petunia was being munched on by Fluffy, like some kind of chew toy .

One of the three heads looked up at him and barked, in a barely understandable growl:

"Potter? You in there?"

And Harry Potter's eyes whipped open in surprise as his dream was flushed down the drain.

"Whuu…?" He managed, his arm reaching to his bedstead to get his thick, black-rimmed glasses, which were currently laying on his nose.

"He is in there!" The same voice said excitedly.

Harry managed to identify it after racking his memories for a good minute.

"Ron?" He asked.

"Naa, it's Merlin's beard." The other boy said sarcastically. "C'mon, we're getting you out of here."

"How… bars…" Harry mumbled.

"Not a problem, I got Gryffindor's official two-person wrecking crew right here with me."

Harry managed to get up and look out the window, where Ron was sitting on the back seat of a car parked in front of it. On the front seats, the infamous Weasley twins Fred and George were giving him odd looks.

"Sheesh, they really did a number on him, didn't they?" The one on the driver's seat noted.

"Yeah, if we left him here, we might have had the chance to win the Quidditch cup this year."

"Not… a chance." Harry managed with a weak grin, putting more of his weight on his desk. His legs were protesting against the weight of the body upon them, his arms were begging for a chance to lay back down in the mattress and his vision was evidently playing tricks with him.

…how else would you explain a flying car?

Oh yeah, magic.

…then how about undulating walls?

Harder, eh?

Harry felt his energies leaving him extremely quickly. The bars on the window, which the youngest Weasley boy was tying ropes to while talking gibberish that the exhausted mind of the black-haired youth couldn't begin to comprehend, seemed to spiral on themselves a second before the entire world turned black around him and he fainted out of exhaustion.

~~~*~~~

Author's notes: Yes, I AM mean to poor Harry. None of the characters will have an easy time this year, I can assure you. Not even Percy ^_-.

Why were the Dursleys this bad on Harry? Take a close look; Harry was bad on them, too.

Gryff!Harry only used his advantage over them to scare them off from mistreating him too much.

Slyth!Harry used their fear to control them like a bunch of slaves.

Naturally, the Dursleys aren't very happy; they took their revenge. Rather badly, I'd say ^_-.

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Favorite reviewers

ANSWERS TO THE RADIOACTIVE FIFTY-METER TALL PET LIZARD OF THE REVIEWERS:

VMorticia: I meant something in the book. Not last chapter ^_-. I will, if I can remember, that is -_- *Grumbles about Ryoga-scale memory problems*

Kathleen: Hehe… well, now you know the answer to THAT question. ^_-

Angelhitomi: Thanks!

Flummox: hehe, thanks. *snicker* Yes, it would be funny… *Reads about the shrine* YESSS!! The first part of my plan for global domination is complete!! Now, to… eh? *Reads further ahead* Ugrr… damn.

Aeternus and Vicieuxsinge: Thanks!

Jordan: *Grins* I hope so!

Alana: Yes, Dobby HAS to come. There is no reason for him not to. I'll try to update as soon as I can, but do not try to rush me, feeble mortal!! *lol, jk*. It not just promises, it delivers, too!

Tina: To answer your question, I'll reply a cryptic: "What needs to be changed will be changed." You'll notice MANY things will be different. So much, in fact, that it only keeps the basic outline. Everything else is different. Especially book 3. Expect HUGE changes.

Muggle: Hehe, thought so too ^_-. Thanks!

Apostrophe: Yes, it is more interesting… but is it better, honestly? He's not as good boy as Gryff!Harry is. He's more selfish, more self-oriented and works his own interests in front of others' – as a result of the rougher environment of the Slytherin common room. Live a whole year with people who put their own interests first and try to keep thinking of others. Not an easy task ^_-.

Kayla185: You'll notice I diverge from the book more and more as the story progresses. Especially the next book. ^_-

Shireen Mclean: Ah, so that's the reason. It's forgiven if you forgive the wait for this chapter! I try to be as original as I can… I like to think I manage it well ^_-. *Grins* Whoopsie then, your droll-catcher must be flooded by now. *Blush* Thanks! Bonne Saint-Valentin you too! ^_-

Blackheart Sayoran: *Blink* Erm… why didn't you? I will, I will ^_-.

Additional note: I've finished planning book 2 (Rough event list and chapter order) already and am working on book 3 (Roughly). Lol, call me a nutcase. Although I probably will hold back from doing book 4 until I've had my hands on book 5. I like to foreshadow. A lot.

Apologies if my chapters seem too short, I'm doing my best!!

Reviews will be welcomed, flames will be mercilessly deskroyed… *Blink* How did that get there… And, of course, physical attacks will be sent straight to Dobby.

"…Dobby take what he said back. Akuma-sama is cruelest demon ever." Dobby squeaked from where he was in the background.

"Flattery will get you everywhere except out of the electric chair you're tied to, Dobby."

"Well, it was worth a try…"