So, here we are again. Part 3. I'm not JK, however, and am just playing with her characters. I'll put them back, I promise. And just to warn you, this is prolly PG-13 for yelling, near-death experiences, and other stuff. Enjoy.
--
Dumbledore quietly whisked the four of them to the Infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey discovered the best news of the day.
"He's not dead," she said smartly, pulling a sheet over the still-stiff wolf. She turned to Dumbledore. "It's a good deal more serious than that. He's been Petrified."
Professor Snape let out a small sigh; Harry, standing next to him, could have sworn the Potions master looked relieved. He had to admit that he felt much better knowing Remus was still alive. It was even better to see Sirius' face light up at the news.
"Petrified?" Harry asked. "How is that worse?"
"It takes very little skill to kill somebody, Harry. It takes immeasurably more skill to Petrify them." Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Luckily, there is a cure for every type of Petrification. However, until we can discover the cause of Mr. Lupin's...condition, I would not dare to attempt any of them."
"What?" Sirius demanded. "You can't just leave him like that! I...what are you going to tell the students? How are we going to deal with that? Who's going to teach History?"
Professor Dumbledore finally adopted an expression appropriate to the gravity of the situation. "We will recall Professor Binns from retirement."
--
When Harry returned to the common room, Ginny was sitting in one of the large chairs, reading her Herbology textbook. She looked up as Harry came in.
"Harry? What's-" She broke off at the sight of Harry's face. "What happened?"
"Remus," he whispered.
Ginny's eyes widened momentarily before she snarled, and she narrowed them into a piercing glare. "That monster..." She suddenly glanced up at Harry. "Harry, I..."
"No, Ginny," he murmured, navigating the near-maze of couches and chairs to the stairway, "I just want to be alone right now." She watched him climb up the stairs, a small frown on her lips. However, when he had finally disappeared, she shook her head.
"I know you don't want to be alone, Harry. Just...let him be there for you." She looked down at her textbook, and then made a few notes in the small journal lying in its binding.
--
"Ron, wake up." Ron opened his eyes to see Harry sitting over him in his pajamas, shaking Ron's shoulder. The other boy looked desperate, terrified, and when he saw Ron's eyes were opened, he threw himself onto Ron, sobbing into his pajama top.
Ron had not seen Harry like this, even when he'd been in the heights of his obsessive investigation in the last school year. So he tried to handle it in his own way: namely, awkwardly.
Ron pushed himself into a sitting position, cradled Harry against his chest, and rubbed his back. Harry didn't seem to notice this, only his grip on Ron's shirt marginally tightening when Ron tried to move. After a minute or two, Ron had woken up enough to think.
"Harry, what happened?"
"Remus." Harry's voice was scratchy, painful. He pulled his head up to look into Ron's eyes. The green was ringed with red, indicating Harry had been crying for a while. "I woke up, and I heard...and when I got to his room, he was..." A shuddering breath cut Harry off. "'Dirty blood will mark you for death.' That's what it said on the wall. What-what's the Chamber of Secrets?"
"What? Harry, Remus isn't...dead, is he?"
"No," Harry muttered, chuckling. "He's not dead. It's worse. He's Petrified."
"How is that worse?"
"Because it's harder to Petrify someone than to kill him. It's..." Harry pulled away, and turned to his bed. "Of course!" He jumped off of Ron's bed, and before Ron could respond, Harry had retrieved his Tarot cards and returned to Ron's side. "This can tell us who did this. Look..." Harry flipped three cards up in quick succession.
The 4 of Pentacles. The High Priestess. And...the Moon.
Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, and he spoke, a strange, sepulchral sound that echoed from the depths of his soul, or deeper.
"He desires to destroy that which does not conform. He will control the very instrument of our doom, and his gaze will be all-seeing and eternal."
Then Harry snapped back to normal, and fell half over Ron, who quietly picked up the cards, made Harry as comfortable as he could, and then went to take a shower.
He passed Neville in the common room, and saw Ginny returning from the girls' room as he entered. He didn't speak to either; he found time to only think about Harry's words, and his strange prophecy.
--
"Okay, what is going on, Ron?" Hermione had been trying the entire day to get ahold of Ron, but he always seemed to be with Harry (not an unusual occurrence, but normally, you could actually get the two of them out of each other's eyesight without Ron getting fidgety. But Professor Sprout had paired Harry with Neville in Herbology, so she finally had a chance to talk.
Ron snipped dead leaves from a carnivorous vine, ignoring Hermione. She sighed, and then nudged him, hard.
"Ron! No one's seen Professor Lupin all day-"
"The full moon was last night."
"There's a cordoned-off bed in the Infirmary, Ron, and the teachers are all acting strangely. I heard Snape didn't talk during the fourth-year Gryffindor class, and the twins had 'plans'." Ron sighed.
"'Mione, if they're not telling students, I think I shouldn't-" He froze, staring at his hand. There was a line of spiders crawling over the greenhouse bench, over his hand and towards the woods. "Oh, shit..." There was a long moment, and then Ron let out a blood-curdling scream. It went on for a long time.
Hermione, thankfully, was able to figure out the problem, and flicked the spiders off. Ron, still hysterical, stopped screaming, but continued to breathe hard even after the spiders were gone. It was unsurprising that the entire class was staring at them. Hermione then noticed Harry hovering over her, so she stepped aside and let him lead the hyperventilating boy off to calm down. Neville stayed behind, shaking his head.
"Those two are really a piece of work, huh?"
"I must admit, they do have a...unique life experience." Hermione glanced sidelong at Neville. "Not that you don't, of course." She glanced down at the table, to the vine, which was hissing a bit, trying to snap at the small trickle of spiders. "What do you think they're doing here?"
"No idea," Neville muttered, "but I'm sure they're up to no good." With a sharp movement, he smashed several of them into the hardwood bench.
"Mr. Longbottom!" Professor Sprout hurried across the greenhouse, scooping up the spiders into her hand. "Really, you should know better than that. Spiders are helpful to the botanical world; they eat harmful insects and other nasty bugs. Five points from Gryffindor. And now, I'll be taking these little helpers over to --my-- strangler vine." Muttering about needless cruelty and stupid, short-sighted gardeners, Professor Sprout crossed back to her bench. Then she whirled on the class.
"Get back to work!" she snapped. As Harry and Ron seemed to have vanished (Hermione hoped the Infirmary, where they would at least have a legitimate excuse for skipping class, but she had little hope for those two), Neville joined Hermione on her bench.
"I wish I knew what was going on," Hermione muttered. "Normally, those two share all of their crackpot theories and worries with me so I can talk sense into them."
"It's Professor Lupin," Neville said. "I heard Ginny telling some of the other first-years. She went down to the Infirmary for a Pepper-Up Potion and saw him in one of the beds. She said his face was really pale, and he wasn't moving."
"Oh, yes, I heard that, too!" Parvati said excitedly from across them. "No one knows what's going on, but I heard they're bringing in a substitute."
"Professor Lupin hurt?" Hermione shook her head. "That can't be right."
--
But it seemed to be right. The rumors had gotten so wild and elaborate by evening that Harry had heard everything…except the truth. He'd also heard a lot about Professor Binns, Remus' replacement, an abysmal teacher who had no hope of retiring early given the fact he hadn't even stopped teaching when he'd died.
He had little time to worry about it, however, because at dinner, he noticed other students behaving oddly. Seamus Finnigan, one of the more boisterous first-year Gryffindors, apologized for running into him coming into the Great Hall. And he had the feeling people were talking about him whenever his back was turned.
When he sat down, even Ron seemed to be a little nervous. The only person who seemed to be even remotely interested in meeting his eyes was Ginny, who kept scooting closer to him. Finally, she stopped, and cleared her throat.
"What is it, Ginny?"
He never figured out what Ginny wanted to say, because at that moment, Neville nudged her aside and sat next to Harry. Ginny reddened and fled to the other side of the table, and when she'd gotten there, Neville just smiled.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say she had a crush on me," he said. "And how are you doing?"
"All right, I guess," Harry replied. He stabbed a potato with little enthusiasm. "I'm just not feeling very well, and Ron's been acting strange since Potions."
"Didn't Ron get paired with Draco?"
"Yeah, but I don't-" Harry stopped, fork halfway to his mouth. He narrowed his eyes. "Malfoy!" He was on his feet and walking towards the Slytherin table with deliberately slow steps before Neville could respond.
Draco lifted his head to meet Harry's eyes, but when he saw the look in them, he pushed himself back, overturning the bench. Harry whipped out his wand and snapped, "Pedignis!"
Nothing happened for a moment, and then Draco began dancing wildly as smoke rose from his feet. "What the hell are you doing, Potter?" he shouted. When Harry's wand made the signature flick of the world's most versatile levitation spell, however, Draco shot back with, "Mortifica animis!" There was a sharp, high-pitched squeal, and then Harry slumped to the floor. "That'll teach you to duel a Malfoy." There was an extended pause, as the Great Hall fell silent, and then Draco glanced down at the recumbent form.
"Hey, he cursed me first."
--
"-think he deserved it, but I was terrified. I thought he was going to...well, what he did to Professor Lupin." Harry's consciousness returned in a familiar setting, his own bed. And it sounded like the other boys were also up in the room.
"I thought he was going to slam Malfoy into a wall," Seamus said.
Something nagged at Harry as they spoke; he thought he should know what they were talking about, but it kept eluding him.
"Harry didn't attack anyone," Neville snarled from what was far enough away to be his own bed. "Yes, he tried to hex Draco Malfoy, but that's because he thought Draco told Ron something to make him avoid Harry."
"I'm not avoiding Harry," Ron protested. "I was just a little...worried."
"Harry bloody well faced Voldemort himself to keep me from having to do it," Neville said, "He hasn't attacked anybody."
Wait...attacked?
They thought...
But where had they heard about it?
"What are you guys talking about?" Harry sat up, feeling to the side for his glasses. When the room came into focus, the assembled boys stood, frozen in his gaze. Then most of the others fled, leaving Harry and Ron alone in the bedroom. "Ron?"
Ron sighed, and then crossed the room to Harry's bed. "Madam Pomfrey said you were fine. It was just a simple stunning spell." Harry put a hand on Ron's arm, and he fell silent. "Harry, we know you're not like that, but there's these rumors..."
"What rumors?"
"That you opened the Chamber of Secrets. That you attacked Professor Lupin."
--
The next week passed rather tensely, as rumors and tension increased. Quidditch practices were cut down to a bare minimum, and students were not allowed outside without an escort. And everyone was trying to understand everything they could about the Chamber of Secrets, about which there seemed to be little written.
In fact, Harry heard almost nothing about it until the fateful Defense class when Sirius actually returned. It had been obvious that he knew far more about the subject than Professor Lockhart, and had in fact spent most of the classes fighting to keep Lockhart remotely on topic. In the week since Remus had been petrified, Sirius' influence had been absent, meaning class was an increasingly self-adoring monologue, with occasional parts for Neville and Harry to play in the re-enactments of his life.
Harry seemed to be often pulled in for the roles of the horrendous beasts Lockhart had vanquished in his career, and Neville seemed content to usually end up as the adoring public.
When Sirius returned, however, Professor Lockhart seemed to be in a surprisingly sedate or understanding mood. He wandered into the room, held up his hands for quiet, and then looked around the classroom.
"Now, I know we've all been having a wonderful time in class, but today, I'm going to tell you about a topic very important to your future safety. You see, we have recently heard about a tragedy to befall Harry's father over here, involving the legendary Chamber of Secrets. Apparently, Salazar Slytherin, some old bloke from back then who everybody's forgotten, thought that you shouldn't let Mudbloods into Hogwarts. So he built a great chamber and hid a horrid monster inside of it.
"Now, I want to teach you how to defend yourself against what I'm sure this monster is: the gorgon!"
The classroom fell into a horrified hush, but Harry noticed something other than Lockhart's largely nonsensical babblings. Sirius was standing by the room's blackboard, and at the mention of the word 'gorgon', he stiffened.
"The gorgon's gaze is known to petrify its victims, transforming them from living, breathing, contributing members of society into unresponsive, mostly-dead logs of rigor mortis. Anyone who dares meet the gaze is doomed unless a man well-armed with a shiny surface can destroy the gorgon and a skilled potions-master can craft the arduously difficult Gorgon's Tongue potion."
At that, Sirius closed his eyes, and Harry saw his fist tighten. He turned to Hermione, who looked very pale.
"What's wrong?"
"The Gorgon's Tongue potion contains silver nitrate," Hermione whispered back. "If a gorgon attacked Professor Lupin, he can't safely be revived."
At the front of the room, Lockhart continued, unaware of his assistant's growing discomfort. "Which means as soon as Madam Pomfrey can whip up a good potion, the good Professor Lupin will be right as rain. And in the meantime, you really ought to carry mirrors with you, in case you run into that nasty gorgon."
"Actually, Professor Lockhart, you're quite mistaken." Neville stood from the rear of the room. "A gorgon couldn't have possibly attacked Professor Lupin. Gorgons are deathly afraid of night creatures, especially those loosely classified by the ancient Greeks as the 'athanatos': werewolves, vampires, and other such nocturnal beasts. Furthermore, a gorgon's gaze merely stuns a victim, so that her snakes can fully petrify it with their venom; for one to get that close to a werewolf on the night of a full moon is preposterous. And finally, gorgons are herbivores and only use their gazes in self-defense."
Neville fell silent, and the room remained so for quite some time, until voices began buzzing quietly.
"-a werewolf?"
"But he seemed like a nice man-"
Neville paled as the murmuring grew louder.
"Oh, my..." He turned to Sirius to apologize for accidentally revealing this secret, but Sirius had fled the room, and Harry, agitated, looked like he wanted to follow. Professor Lockhart looked at the chaos in the room, seemingly oblivious to the cause.
"Oh, well, then I suppose this would be as good a time as any to announce that Professor Snape and I have decided to start a little dueling club. We'll be meeting in the Great Hall after dinner Thursdays. I daresay it'll help us get our mind off of this little unpleasantness, eh?" He paused, and glanced at Harry, whose hand was raised and twitching. "Mr. Lupin?"
"It's --Potter--," Harry snarled through gritted teeth, "And I was wondering if I might go and try to cheer up my godfather, --Sirius--, who seems to have been upset with your flippant discussion of his best friend's affliction."
And without waiting for Lockhart's permission, Harry stood up, picked up his bags, and stormed from the classroom, slamming the door after him.
--
"Sirius? Sirius?" Harry pushed open the door to Sirius and Remus' room, a cozy place set near the History of Magic classroom, unsurprised to find his godfather with his bed buried into the room's bed, specifically Remus' pillow. "Are you all right? Mum's been worried sick about you, you know."
"I'm fine, don't let the door hit you on your way out," Sirius snapped. "And tell Lily she can go sod herself." There was a tense pause, and then he added, "On second thought, don't."
"Sirius...he's going to be fine. You should have heard Neville rip into Lockhart, going on about gorgons." Sirius rolled over on the bed, letting suspiciously moist eyes meet Harry's own.
"But we don't know what's done it. Hell, half the school thinks you did it to him. And now everyone knows...he's going to kill someone when he comes out of this." Sirius scooted back so he was sitting proper, and then patted the bed beside him. "Come on, sit down."
Harry joined his godfather, and when they'd gotten comfortable, Sirius just sighed.
"Remus is going to be fine, right?" Harry asked.
"As soon as we figure out what this thing is. And who opened the Chamber of Secrets. Although I've heard rumors..." Sirius shook his head. "I didn't believe them the first time around, and I won't believe it again."
"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked.
"Nothing," Sirius said. "It's...nothing. It's just that...this happened before, Harry. People were hurt, and in the end, someone died. And it was a boy a lot like you named Tom Riddle that stopped it. He was able to figure out who'd opened the Chamber and stop the monster. The boy responsible was expelled and his wand snapped in half." Harry sat back, frowning a little.
"But how do you know about that?"
"My family," Sirius said darkly, "knew a lot about these sorts of things." Harry shuddered at the reference to Sirius' family, especially his mother, Vega Black.
Rumors still flew about the Blacks and their involvement in the war, and although nothing was proven, there were some circles still in which Vega Black was spoken of with more fear than Lord Voldemort himself.
"So don't go and do anything stupid," Sirius said. "It's dangerous out there, and I want you to stay safe."
--
"This is stupid," Ron grumbled. "I doubt we're going to learn anything from Lockhart and Snape."
"Hmph. Professor Lockhart is one of the most well-known enemies of the Dark Arts in the world. I would think he would know something about dueling." Hermione carefully flipped open a small notebook and pulled a ballpoint pen from her robes. She tended to use the pen when she wanted to take impeccable notes, which meant the purple, sparkly pen was seen most often in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the notes from which filled three full-sized spiral-bound notebooks.
Harry personally agreed with Ron that Lockhart would most likely only teach them anything accidentally, and in that case only by counterexample.
Professor Snape, on the other hand, was rumored to desire the position of Defense professor, have been a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's elite, a spy for the powers of good, and/or a transsexual lesbian vampire (the latter Harry had only heard from a nervous Ravenclaw first-year student affectionately or maliciously named 'Loony Luna').
Whatever the rumors, he surely knew enough about dueling to successfully run a dueling club and teach the students of Hogwarts a thing or two about fighting with magic.
The Great Hall held clumps of anxious and excited students chatting about the upcoming session when Lockhart and Snape entered the hall, the former looking pleased, and the latter looking annoyed.
"Good evening, everybody," Lockhart said. "Let's start this little club with some demonstrations. Now, we think it's very important for you to first know how to disarm your opponent. But first..." He turned to Professor Snape, raising his wand in a threatening manner. "Ex-"
"Expelliarmus," Snape snapped, flicking his wrist dismissively and inhumanly quickly at Lockhart. Flying backwards with a loud bang, Lockhart lost his grip on his wand, which flew in a neat arc into Snape's hand. The Defense teacher groaned as he sat up from his landing place.
"You didn't tell me you liked it rough, Sevvie," he gasped.
"Perhaps," Snape hissed, "we should allow the students to try this for themselves. Let us choose two students to demonstrate. Ah...Potter. Come here." Harry approached Snape slowly, not entirely certain what his intentions were. But Snape's eyes held no more than their base amount of malice for all people.
And Lockhart glanced around the crowd, frowning. And then his eyes fell on Neville Longbottom.
"Mr. Longbottom! I think you'll do well to show Mr. Potter a thing or two about dueling. Now come over here..."
Harry stopped next to Snape, who leaned in close. "Now, Potter, I'm going to teach you a very important spell that will at best block a malicious spell, and at least deflect it onto someone else." Snape made a complicated gesture with his hand, ending with a sideways snap of his wrist. "Can you do that?"
"I..." Harry nodded, certain he looked more confident than he felt.
"Good." He glanced to the side, and saw Lockhart drop his wand in an attempt to demonstrate something to Neville. He felt a bit more confident, although he still felt worried. Snape thought he could do this, and there seemed a chance to at least attempt to redeem himself by responding well in this duel.
"Step to the center of the room!" Snape shouted, and a circle was suddenly open in the crowd of students. "Harry, Neville, bow to each other. And ready, set, start!"
Harry began a simple stun spell, hoping to catch Neville off-guard, but something in Neville's movements suggested that something was wrong.
"Serpevenes!" Neville shouted, and from the tip of his wand shot a thin stream of smoke that shot towards Harry. Harry's body reacted instinctually to the attack, doing the last thing it had remembered doing. The smoke reflected off of his hand and hit the ground, solidifying into a wicked-looking cobra, which began to slide purposefully towards the gathered students.
"Hey! Get away from them!" Harry shouted, readying his wand and trying to think of something he could do to stop the snake. He wasn't sure a regular stunning spell would work, but-
--You are no massster to me-- the snake replied, pausing to look back at Harry. He froze, not sure if his ears were deceiving him. But the snake was glaring at him, and the words were too responsive to be mere imagination.
"But you'll hurt them. Please, just go away." Harry gestured to the windows, and the snake peered at that side of the room, considering. And then it lunged towards the windows, but diverged a moment before, striking towards a Hufflepuff named Justin Finch-Fletchley.
"Back OFF!"
Harry swung his wand, inaccurate, wild, driven only by the desire to get the snake away. The snake's strike froze, and the creature dropped to the ground, stunned. It turned, hissing angrily.
--Who are you?--
There was a flash of light as Snape appeared, banishing the snake to whatever shadowy realm from which it had come. Breathing hard, Harry looked up at Snape, hoping to see anything encouraging in the professor's eyes. But Snape looked just as cold and annoyed as ever. He glanced around the room, and at the frightened students.
"I think we should adjourn for today." As the others scattered, Harry noticed them giving him a wide berth, whispering.
"Professor," Harry began.
"I think you and I will go and have a little chat with Professor McGonagall," Snape interrupted. "Come along, Harry." As they left the Hall, he shook his head. "You've got your father's gift for defensive magic, Potter. Although I think it was too much to expect you to have your mother's cool head. You should have handled the snake by yourself instead of deflecting it onto someone else. It is acceptable to make a curse someone else's problem when that person is an enemy, but a top duelist is expected to know how to neutralize any threat to himself without endangering anyone else. Five points from Gryffindor. We're here."
He stopped in front of McGonagall's office, and knocked on the door. And Harry, not knowing whether he'd been complimented or insulted, was shoved in front of Professor McGonagall, who was calmly eating a chocolate biscuit.
"Severus," she said, standing and knocking most of the biscuit onto the floor. She glanced at Harry, and rolled her eyes. "And what do you believe Harry is responsible for now?"
"During a mock duel this evening he, rather unaware of any sense of propriety, revealed to some thirty students that he is a Parselmouth."
"A Parselmouth? That's ridiculous! I can't be a Parselmouth; they're-"
"Vicious, evil monsters that ought to be put down, Mr. Potter? I imagine you've a godfather with rather...strong views on that sort of subject." Snape gave a self-satisfied smirk as Harry's jaw dropped. Sure, Parselmouths were among the most feared wizards, due a long history of wicked Parselmouths who used their talents for evil. But that would just make the average people with the talent want to hide it.
"I..."
"I think I'm no longer needed here," Snape said, and gave McGonagall a sharp salute before leaving the room. Harry watched him go, still in a state of shock.
"I...Professor McGonagall, I still can't be a Parselmouth. I mean, I don't talk to snakes."
"Really?" McGonagall made a sharp flick of her wand, and a teapot on her desk transformed into a small snake.
--Yaa! What the...who the devil are you? Where am I?--
"Er...calm down," Harry said, reaching out to the snake, who didn't seem to be particularly poisonous, hoping to keep it from thrashing wildly on the desk. "That's just Professor McGonagall. She's...pretty cool, for a teacher."
The snake was suddenly gone, and McGonagall shook her head at Harry.
"Harry, do you realize you weren't speaking English?"
"Pardon?"
"You were speaking Parseltongue, Harry." She sat down in her chair, shaking her head. With a start, she reached out and shoved her tin of chocolate biscuits towards Harry. "Here, take one. Harry, I want you to understand that if you have any problems, if anyone treats you unfairly because of this...revelation, you can come to me.
"I must say, I should have expected this sort of thing from you, Harry, after that fracas from last year." McGonagall shook her head, sighing. "Your father at least was in control of most of the trouble he got into."
--
Harry left McGonagall's office feeling somewhere between much better and terrified for the future. People in the school were frightened, and a Parselmouth among them would make things worse. The original rumors had even fingered Harry as the culprit, and this would only make things worse.
And then there was a sound, something between sob and a shout, around the corner.
Harry broke into a jog, pulling out his wand as he rounded the corner, stopping when he saw Justin Finch-Fletchley in the hall, lying on the ground.
'Not again...' He approached the boy, reaching out a cautious hand to nudge him. When a light touch didn't rouse the boy, Harry grabbed his shoulder.
It was stiff, unyielding, as if it were made of stone. Harry recoiled, shouting. And then he looked up, and saw what else decorated the dark corridor. A misty white form hovered near the entrance to what looked like a girls' bathroom; upon closer inspection, the form revealed itself to be a female ghost.
A ghost? She wasn't moving, and that made him wonder: what could...kill, for lack of a better word, a ghost?
And then his mind stopped when he saw the writing on the wall.
'LOOK UPON THE POWER OF THE HEIR, AND HIS SERVANT. BEWARE, HOGWARTS, AND ALL THOSE OF IMPURE BLOOD.'
"Harry?" Harry turned at the sound of the voice behind him, and when he met Ginny's eyes, he saw something he'd never seen in another person's eyes: fear. "Harry, I have to tell you something." She took a few steps towards him, her footsteps unsteady. "I saw..." She stopped moving, her entire body shaking. And then suddenly, she turned and fled the hallway.
"You're in real trouble now, Potter," Draco said, turning the corner in front of him, looking at the wall. "Unless you've got a great alibi, you could even be expelled."
--
--
Dumbledore quietly whisked the four of them to the Infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey discovered the best news of the day.
"He's not dead," she said smartly, pulling a sheet over the still-stiff wolf. She turned to Dumbledore. "It's a good deal more serious than that. He's been Petrified."
Professor Snape let out a small sigh; Harry, standing next to him, could have sworn the Potions master looked relieved. He had to admit that he felt much better knowing Remus was still alive. It was even better to see Sirius' face light up at the news.
"Petrified?" Harry asked. "How is that worse?"
"It takes very little skill to kill somebody, Harry. It takes immeasurably more skill to Petrify them." Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Luckily, there is a cure for every type of Petrification. However, until we can discover the cause of Mr. Lupin's...condition, I would not dare to attempt any of them."
"What?" Sirius demanded. "You can't just leave him like that! I...what are you going to tell the students? How are we going to deal with that? Who's going to teach History?"
Professor Dumbledore finally adopted an expression appropriate to the gravity of the situation. "We will recall Professor Binns from retirement."
--
When Harry returned to the common room, Ginny was sitting in one of the large chairs, reading her Herbology textbook. She looked up as Harry came in.
"Harry? What's-" She broke off at the sight of Harry's face. "What happened?"
"Remus," he whispered.
Ginny's eyes widened momentarily before she snarled, and she narrowed them into a piercing glare. "That monster..." She suddenly glanced up at Harry. "Harry, I..."
"No, Ginny," he murmured, navigating the near-maze of couches and chairs to the stairway, "I just want to be alone right now." She watched him climb up the stairs, a small frown on her lips. However, when he had finally disappeared, she shook her head.
"I know you don't want to be alone, Harry. Just...let him be there for you." She looked down at her textbook, and then made a few notes in the small journal lying in its binding.
--
"Ron, wake up." Ron opened his eyes to see Harry sitting over him in his pajamas, shaking Ron's shoulder. The other boy looked desperate, terrified, and when he saw Ron's eyes were opened, he threw himself onto Ron, sobbing into his pajama top.
Ron had not seen Harry like this, even when he'd been in the heights of his obsessive investigation in the last school year. So he tried to handle it in his own way: namely, awkwardly.
Ron pushed himself into a sitting position, cradled Harry against his chest, and rubbed his back. Harry didn't seem to notice this, only his grip on Ron's shirt marginally tightening when Ron tried to move. After a minute or two, Ron had woken up enough to think.
"Harry, what happened?"
"Remus." Harry's voice was scratchy, painful. He pulled his head up to look into Ron's eyes. The green was ringed with red, indicating Harry had been crying for a while. "I woke up, and I heard...and when I got to his room, he was..." A shuddering breath cut Harry off. "'Dirty blood will mark you for death.' That's what it said on the wall. What-what's the Chamber of Secrets?"
"What? Harry, Remus isn't...dead, is he?"
"No," Harry muttered, chuckling. "He's not dead. It's worse. He's Petrified."
"How is that worse?"
"Because it's harder to Petrify someone than to kill him. It's..." Harry pulled away, and turned to his bed. "Of course!" He jumped off of Ron's bed, and before Ron could respond, Harry had retrieved his Tarot cards and returned to Ron's side. "This can tell us who did this. Look..." Harry flipped three cards up in quick succession.
The 4 of Pentacles. The High Priestess. And...the Moon.
Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, and he spoke, a strange, sepulchral sound that echoed from the depths of his soul, or deeper.
"He desires to destroy that which does not conform. He will control the very instrument of our doom, and his gaze will be all-seeing and eternal."
Then Harry snapped back to normal, and fell half over Ron, who quietly picked up the cards, made Harry as comfortable as he could, and then went to take a shower.
He passed Neville in the common room, and saw Ginny returning from the girls' room as he entered. He didn't speak to either; he found time to only think about Harry's words, and his strange prophecy.
--
"Okay, what is going on, Ron?" Hermione had been trying the entire day to get ahold of Ron, but he always seemed to be with Harry (not an unusual occurrence, but normally, you could actually get the two of them out of each other's eyesight without Ron getting fidgety. But Professor Sprout had paired Harry with Neville in Herbology, so she finally had a chance to talk.
Ron snipped dead leaves from a carnivorous vine, ignoring Hermione. She sighed, and then nudged him, hard.
"Ron! No one's seen Professor Lupin all day-"
"The full moon was last night."
"There's a cordoned-off bed in the Infirmary, Ron, and the teachers are all acting strangely. I heard Snape didn't talk during the fourth-year Gryffindor class, and the twins had 'plans'." Ron sighed.
"'Mione, if they're not telling students, I think I shouldn't-" He froze, staring at his hand. There was a line of spiders crawling over the greenhouse bench, over his hand and towards the woods. "Oh, shit..." There was a long moment, and then Ron let out a blood-curdling scream. It went on for a long time.
Hermione, thankfully, was able to figure out the problem, and flicked the spiders off. Ron, still hysterical, stopped screaming, but continued to breathe hard even after the spiders were gone. It was unsurprising that the entire class was staring at them. Hermione then noticed Harry hovering over her, so she stepped aside and let him lead the hyperventilating boy off to calm down. Neville stayed behind, shaking his head.
"Those two are really a piece of work, huh?"
"I must admit, they do have a...unique life experience." Hermione glanced sidelong at Neville. "Not that you don't, of course." She glanced down at the table, to the vine, which was hissing a bit, trying to snap at the small trickle of spiders. "What do you think they're doing here?"
"No idea," Neville muttered, "but I'm sure they're up to no good." With a sharp movement, he smashed several of them into the hardwood bench.
"Mr. Longbottom!" Professor Sprout hurried across the greenhouse, scooping up the spiders into her hand. "Really, you should know better than that. Spiders are helpful to the botanical world; they eat harmful insects and other nasty bugs. Five points from Gryffindor. And now, I'll be taking these little helpers over to --my-- strangler vine." Muttering about needless cruelty and stupid, short-sighted gardeners, Professor Sprout crossed back to her bench. Then she whirled on the class.
"Get back to work!" she snapped. As Harry and Ron seemed to have vanished (Hermione hoped the Infirmary, where they would at least have a legitimate excuse for skipping class, but she had little hope for those two), Neville joined Hermione on her bench.
"I wish I knew what was going on," Hermione muttered. "Normally, those two share all of their crackpot theories and worries with me so I can talk sense into them."
"It's Professor Lupin," Neville said. "I heard Ginny telling some of the other first-years. She went down to the Infirmary for a Pepper-Up Potion and saw him in one of the beds. She said his face was really pale, and he wasn't moving."
"Oh, yes, I heard that, too!" Parvati said excitedly from across them. "No one knows what's going on, but I heard they're bringing in a substitute."
"Professor Lupin hurt?" Hermione shook her head. "That can't be right."
--
But it seemed to be right. The rumors had gotten so wild and elaborate by evening that Harry had heard everything…except the truth. He'd also heard a lot about Professor Binns, Remus' replacement, an abysmal teacher who had no hope of retiring early given the fact he hadn't even stopped teaching when he'd died.
He had little time to worry about it, however, because at dinner, he noticed other students behaving oddly. Seamus Finnigan, one of the more boisterous first-year Gryffindors, apologized for running into him coming into the Great Hall. And he had the feeling people were talking about him whenever his back was turned.
When he sat down, even Ron seemed to be a little nervous. The only person who seemed to be even remotely interested in meeting his eyes was Ginny, who kept scooting closer to him. Finally, she stopped, and cleared her throat.
"What is it, Ginny?"
He never figured out what Ginny wanted to say, because at that moment, Neville nudged her aside and sat next to Harry. Ginny reddened and fled to the other side of the table, and when she'd gotten there, Neville just smiled.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say she had a crush on me," he said. "And how are you doing?"
"All right, I guess," Harry replied. He stabbed a potato with little enthusiasm. "I'm just not feeling very well, and Ron's been acting strange since Potions."
"Didn't Ron get paired with Draco?"
"Yeah, but I don't-" Harry stopped, fork halfway to his mouth. He narrowed his eyes. "Malfoy!" He was on his feet and walking towards the Slytherin table with deliberately slow steps before Neville could respond.
Draco lifted his head to meet Harry's eyes, but when he saw the look in them, he pushed himself back, overturning the bench. Harry whipped out his wand and snapped, "Pedignis!"
Nothing happened for a moment, and then Draco began dancing wildly as smoke rose from his feet. "What the hell are you doing, Potter?" he shouted. When Harry's wand made the signature flick of the world's most versatile levitation spell, however, Draco shot back with, "Mortifica animis!" There was a sharp, high-pitched squeal, and then Harry slumped to the floor. "That'll teach you to duel a Malfoy." There was an extended pause, as the Great Hall fell silent, and then Draco glanced down at the recumbent form.
"Hey, he cursed me first."
--
"-think he deserved it, but I was terrified. I thought he was going to...well, what he did to Professor Lupin." Harry's consciousness returned in a familiar setting, his own bed. And it sounded like the other boys were also up in the room.
"I thought he was going to slam Malfoy into a wall," Seamus said.
Something nagged at Harry as they spoke; he thought he should know what they were talking about, but it kept eluding him.
"Harry didn't attack anyone," Neville snarled from what was far enough away to be his own bed. "Yes, he tried to hex Draco Malfoy, but that's because he thought Draco told Ron something to make him avoid Harry."
"I'm not avoiding Harry," Ron protested. "I was just a little...worried."
"Harry bloody well faced Voldemort himself to keep me from having to do it," Neville said, "He hasn't attacked anybody."
Wait...attacked?
They thought...
But where had they heard about it?
"What are you guys talking about?" Harry sat up, feeling to the side for his glasses. When the room came into focus, the assembled boys stood, frozen in his gaze. Then most of the others fled, leaving Harry and Ron alone in the bedroom. "Ron?"
Ron sighed, and then crossed the room to Harry's bed. "Madam Pomfrey said you were fine. It was just a simple stunning spell." Harry put a hand on Ron's arm, and he fell silent. "Harry, we know you're not like that, but there's these rumors..."
"What rumors?"
"That you opened the Chamber of Secrets. That you attacked Professor Lupin."
--
The next week passed rather tensely, as rumors and tension increased. Quidditch practices were cut down to a bare minimum, and students were not allowed outside without an escort. And everyone was trying to understand everything they could about the Chamber of Secrets, about which there seemed to be little written.
In fact, Harry heard almost nothing about it until the fateful Defense class when Sirius actually returned. It had been obvious that he knew far more about the subject than Professor Lockhart, and had in fact spent most of the classes fighting to keep Lockhart remotely on topic. In the week since Remus had been petrified, Sirius' influence had been absent, meaning class was an increasingly self-adoring monologue, with occasional parts for Neville and Harry to play in the re-enactments of his life.
Harry seemed to be often pulled in for the roles of the horrendous beasts Lockhart had vanquished in his career, and Neville seemed content to usually end up as the adoring public.
When Sirius returned, however, Professor Lockhart seemed to be in a surprisingly sedate or understanding mood. He wandered into the room, held up his hands for quiet, and then looked around the classroom.
"Now, I know we've all been having a wonderful time in class, but today, I'm going to tell you about a topic very important to your future safety. You see, we have recently heard about a tragedy to befall Harry's father over here, involving the legendary Chamber of Secrets. Apparently, Salazar Slytherin, some old bloke from back then who everybody's forgotten, thought that you shouldn't let Mudbloods into Hogwarts. So he built a great chamber and hid a horrid monster inside of it.
"Now, I want to teach you how to defend yourself against what I'm sure this monster is: the gorgon!"
The classroom fell into a horrified hush, but Harry noticed something other than Lockhart's largely nonsensical babblings. Sirius was standing by the room's blackboard, and at the mention of the word 'gorgon', he stiffened.
"The gorgon's gaze is known to petrify its victims, transforming them from living, breathing, contributing members of society into unresponsive, mostly-dead logs of rigor mortis. Anyone who dares meet the gaze is doomed unless a man well-armed with a shiny surface can destroy the gorgon and a skilled potions-master can craft the arduously difficult Gorgon's Tongue potion."
At that, Sirius closed his eyes, and Harry saw his fist tighten. He turned to Hermione, who looked very pale.
"What's wrong?"
"The Gorgon's Tongue potion contains silver nitrate," Hermione whispered back. "If a gorgon attacked Professor Lupin, he can't safely be revived."
At the front of the room, Lockhart continued, unaware of his assistant's growing discomfort. "Which means as soon as Madam Pomfrey can whip up a good potion, the good Professor Lupin will be right as rain. And in the meantime, you really ought to carry mirrors with you, in case you run into that nasty gorgon."
"Actually, Professor Lockhart, you're quite mistaken." Neville stood from the rear of the room. "A gorgon couldn't have possibly attacked Professor Lupin. Gorgons are deathly afraid of night creatures, especially those loosely classified by the ancient Greeks as the 'athanatos': werewolves, vampires, and other such nocturnal beasts. Furthermore, a gorgon's gaze merely stuns a victim, so that her snakes can fully petrify it with their venom; for one to get that close to a werewolf on the night of a full moon is preposterous. And finally, gorgons are herbivores and only use their gazes in self-defense."
Neville fell silent, and the room remained so for quite some time, until voices began buzzing quietly.
"-a werewolf?"
"But he seemed like a nice man-"
Neville paled as the murmuring grew louder.
"Oh, my..." He turned to Sirius to apologize for accidentally revealing this secret, but Sirius had fled the room, and Harry, agitated, looked like he wanted to follow. Professor Lockhart looked at the chaos in the room, seemingly oblivious to the cause.
"Oh, well, then I suppose this would be as good a time as any to announce that Professor Snape and I have decided to start a little dueling club. We'll be meeting in the Great Hall after dinner Thursdays. I daresay it'll help us get our mind off of this little unpleasantness, eh?" He paused, and glanced at Harry, whose hand was raised and twitching. "Mr. Lupin?"
"It's --Potter--," Harry snarled through gritted teeth, "And I was wondering if I might go and try to cheer up my godfather, --Sirius--, who seems to have been upset with your flippant discussion of his best friend's affliction."
And without waiting for Lockhart's permission, Harry stood up, picked up his bags, and stormed from the classroom, slamming the door after him.
--
"Sirius? Sirius?" Harry pushed open the door to Sirius and Remus' room, a cozy place set near the History of Magic classroom, unsurprised to find his godfather with his bed buried into the room's bed, specifically Remus' pillow. "Are you all right? Mum's been worried sick about you, you know."
"I'm fine, don't let the door hit you on your way out," Sirius snapped. "And tell Lily she can go sod herself." There was a tense pause, and then he added, "On second thought, don't."
"Sirius...he's going to be fine. You should have heard Neville rip into Lockhart, going on about gorgons." Sirius rolled over on the bed, letting suspiciously moist eyes meet Harry's own.
"But we don't know what's done it. Hell, half the school thinks you did it to him. And now everyone knows...he's going to kill someone when he comes out of this." Sirius scooted back so he was sitting proper, and then patted the bed beside him. "Come on, sit down."
Harry joined his godfather, and when they'd gotten comfortable, Sirius just sighed.
"Remus is going to be fine, right?" Harry asked.
"As soon as we figure out what this thing is. And who opened the Chamber of Secrets. Although I've heard rumors..." Sirius shook his head. "I didn't believe them the first time around, and I won't believe it again."
"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked.
"Nothing," Sirius said. "It's...nothing. It's just that...this happened before, Harry. People were hurt, and in the end, someone died. And it was a boy a lot like you named Tom Riddle that stopped it. He was able to figure out who'd opened the Chamber and stop the monster. The boy responsible was expelled and his wand snapped in half." Harry sat back, frowning a little.
"But how do you know about that?"
"My family," Sirius said darkly, "knew a lot about these sorts of things." Harry shuddered at the reference to Sirius' family, especially his mother, Vega Black.
Rumors still flew about the Blacks and their involvement in the war, and although nothing was proven, there were some circles still in which Vega Black was spoken of with more fear than Lord Voldemort himself.
"So don't go and do anything stupid," Sirius said. "It's dangerous out there, and I want you to stay safe."
--
"This is stupid," Ron grumbled. "I doubt we're going to learn anything from Lockhart and Snape."
"Hmph. Professor Lockhart is one of the most well-known enemies of the Dark Arts in the world. I would think he would know something about dueling." Hermione carefully flipped open a small notebook and pulled a ballpoint pen from her robes. She tended to use the pen when she wanted to take impeccable notes, which meant the purple, sparkly pen was seen most often in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the notes from which filled three full-sized spiral-bound notebooks.
Harry personally agreed with Ron that Lockhart would most likely only teach them anything accidentally, and in that case only by counterexample.
Professor Snape, on the other hand, was rumored to desire the position of Defense professor, have been a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's elite, a spy for the powers of good, and/or a transsexual lesbian vampire (the latter Harry had only heard from a nervous Ravenclaw first-year student affectionately or maliciously named 'Loony Luna').
Whatever the rumors, he surely knew enough about dueling to successfully run a dueling club and teach the students of Hogwarts a thing or two about fighting with magic.
The Great Hall held clumps of anxious and excited students chatting about the upcoming session when Lockhart and Snape entered the hall, the former looking pleased, and the latter looking annoyed.
"Good evening, everybody," Lockhart said. "Let's start this little club with some demonstrations. Now, we think it's very important for you to first know how to disarm your opponent. But first..." He turned to Professor Snape, raising his wand in a threatening manner. "Ex-"
"Expelliarmus," Snape snapped, flicking his wrist dismissively and inhumanly quickly at Lockhart. Flying backwards with a loud bang, Lockhart lost his grip on his wand, which flew in a neat arc into Snape's hand. The Defense teacher groaned as he sat up from his landing place.
"You didn't tell me you liked it rough, Sevvie," he gasped.
"Perhaps," Snape hissed, "we should allow the students to try this for themselves. Let us choose two students to demonstrate. Ah...Potter. Come here." Harry approached Snape slowly, not entirely certain what his intentions were. But Snape's eyes held no more than their base amount of malice for all people.
And Lockhart glanced around the crowd, frowning. And then his eyes fell on Neville Longbottom.
"Mr. Longbottom! I think you'll do well to show Mr. Potter a thing or two about dueling. Now come over here..."
Harry stopped next to Snape, who leaned in close. "Now, Potter, I'm going to teach you a very important spell that will at best block a malicious spell, and at least deflect it onto someone else." Snape made a complicated gesture with his hand, ending with a sideways snap of his wrist. "Can you do that?"
"I..." Harry nodded, certain he looked more confident than he felt.
"Good." He glanced to the side, and saw Lockhart drop his wand in an attempt to demonstrate something to Neville. He felt a bit more confident, although he still felt worried. Snape thought he could do this, and there seemed a chance to at least attempt to redeem himself by responding well in this duel.
"Step to the center of the room!" Snape shouted, and a circle was suddenly open in the crowd of students. "Harry, Neville, bow to each other. And ready, set, start!"
Harry began a simple stun spell, hoping to catch Neville off-guard, but something in Neville's movements suggested that something was wrong.
"Serpevenes!" Neville shouted, and from the tip of his wand shot a thin stream of smoke that shot towards Harry. Harry's body reacted instinctually to the attack, doing the last thing it had remembered doing. The smoke reflected off of his hand and hit the ground, solidifying into a wicked-looking cobra, which began to slide purposefully towards the gathered students.
"Hey! Get away from them!" Harry shouted, readying his wand and trying to think of something he could do to stop the snake. He wasn't sure a regular stunning spell would work, but-
--You are no massster to me-- the snake replied, pausing to look back at Harry. He froze, not sure if his ears were deceiving him. But the snake was glaring at him, and the words were too responsive to be mere imagination.
"But you'll hurt them. Please, just go away." Harry gestured to the windows, and the snake peered at that side of the room, considering. And then it lunged towards the windows, but diverged a moment before, striking towards a Hufflepuff named Justin Finch-Fletchley.
"Back OFF!"
Harry swung his wand, inaccurate, wild, driven only by the desire to get the snake away. The snake's strike froze, and the creature dropped to the ground, stunned. It turned, hissing angrily.
--Who are you?--
There was a flash of light as Snape appeared, banishing the snake to whatever shadowy realm from which it had come. Breathing hard, Harry looked up at Snape, hoping to see anything encouraging in the professor's eyes. But Snape looked just as cold and annoyed as ever. He glanced around the room, and at the frightened students.
"I think we should adjourn for today." As the others scattered, Harry noticed them giving him a wide berth, whispering.
"Professor," Harry began.
"I think you and I will go and have a little chat with Professor McGonagall," Snape interrupted. "Come along, Harry." As they left the Hall, he shook his head. "You've got your father's gift for defensive magic, Potter. Although I think it was too much to expect you to have your mother's cool head. You should have handled the snake by yourself instead of deflecting it onto someone else. It is acceptable to make a curse someone else's problem when that person is an enemy, but a top duelist is expected to know how to neutralize any threat to himself without endangering anyone else. Five points from Gryffindor. We're here."
He stopped in front of McGonagall's office, and knocked on the door. And Harry, not knowing whether he'd been complimented or insulted, was shoved in front of Professor McGonagall, who was calmly eating a chocolate biscuit.
"Severus," she said, standing and knocking most of the biscuit onto the floor. She glanced at Harry, and rolled her eyes. "And what do you believe Harry is responsible for now?"
"During a mock duel this evening he, rather unaware of any sense of propriety, revealed to some thirty students that he is a Parselmouth."
"A Parselmouth? That's ridiculous! I can't be a Parselmouth; they're-"
"Vicious, evil monsters that ought to be put down, Mr. Potter? I imagine you've a godfather with rather...strong views on that sort of subject." Snape gave a self-satisfied smirk as Harry's jaw dropped. Sure, Parselmouths were among the most feared wizards, due a long history of wicked Parselmouths who used their talents for evil. But that would just make the average people with the talent want to hide it.
"I..."
"I think I'm no longer needed here," Snape said, and gave McGonagall a sharp salute before leaving the room. Harry watched him go, still in a state of shock.
"I...Professor McGonagall, I still can't be a Parselmouth. I mean, I don't talk to snakes."
"Really?" McGonagall made a sharp flick of her wand, and a teapot on her desk transformed into a small snake.
--Yaa! What the...who the devil are you? Where am I?--
"Er...calm down," Harry said, reaching out to the snake, who didn't seem to be particularly poisonous, hoping to keep it from thrashing wildly on the desk. "That's just Professor McGonagall. She's...pretty cool, for a teacher."
The snake was suddenly gone, and McGonagall shook her head at Harry.
"Harry, do you realize you weren't speaking English?"
"Pardon?"
"You were speaking Parseltongue, Harry." She sat down in her chair, shaking her head. With a start, she reached out and shoved her tin of chocolate biscuits towards Harry. "Here, take one. Harry, I want you to understand that if you have any problems, if anyone treats you unfairly because of this...revelation, you can come to me.
"I must say, I should have expected this sort of thing from you, Harry, after that fracas from last year." McGonagall shook her head, sighing. "Your father at least was in control of most of the trouble he got into."
--
Harry left McGonagall's office feeling somewhere between much better and terrified for the future. People in the school were frightened, and a Parselmouth among them would make things worse. The original rumors had even fingered Harry as the culprit, and this would only make things worse.
And then there was a sound, something between sob and a shout, around the corner.
Harry broke into a jog, pulling out his wand as he rounded the corner, stopping when he saw Justin Finch-Fletchley in the hall, lying on the ground.
'Not again...' He approached the boy, reaching out a cautious hand to nudge him. When a light touch didn't rouse the boy, Harry grabbed his shoulder.
It was stiff, unyielding, as if it were made of stone. Harry recoiled, shouting. And then he looked up, and saw what else decorated the dark corridor. A misty white form hovered near the entrance to what looked like a girls' bathroom; upon closer inspection, the form revealed itself to be a female ghost.
A ghost? She wasn't moving, and that made him wonder: what could...kill, for lack of a better word, a ghost?
And then his mind stopped when he saw the writing on the wall.
'LOOK UPON THE POWER OF THE HEIR, AND HIS SERVANT. BEWARE, HOGWARTS, AND ALL THOSE OF IMPURE BLOOD.'
"Harry?" Harry turned at the sound of the voice behind him, and when he met Ginny's eyes, he saw something he'd never seen in another person's eyes: fear. "Harry, I have to tell you something." She took a few steps towards him, her footsteps unsteady. "I saw..." She stopped moving, her entire body shaking. And then suddenly, she turned and fled the hallway.
"You're in real trouble now, Potter," Draco said, turning the corner in front of him, looking at the wall. "Unless you've got a great alibi, you could even be expelled."
--