Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter by any means, unlike the actual owner JK Rowling

Chapter 17

"We need to talk."

Harry instantly thought of everything he'd done wrong over the past twelve years, and felt sweat bead up on his forehead. He looked up from his half-completed Potions essay to see Hermione Granger staring at him interrogatively, her hands on her hips and her features deadly serious enough for him to drop his quill in shock. She cocked her head expectantly and Harry's mind began racing.

'She knows I copied off of her that one time in Transfiguration last year. No, she knows I accidentally took that Herbology book from the library without checking it out. No, this is about staring at her in the Forest of Dean. No, this is about…oh forget it. Just let her murder you.'

"About what?" He asked, trying desperately to sound calm. Based on Ron's snickering, he guessed he wasn't succeeding. Much to Harry's relief, his bushy-haired friend whirled on the redhead with narrowed eyes.

"You too." She glowered. Ron's laughter died in his throat, and he meekly closed the History of Magic textbook he'd been pretending to read.

"Hermione, it's Halloween. It's a Saturday. Harry's done with Quidditch. Everyone is relaxing ahead of the Halloween feast, so let me guess – you want to go to…" Ron trailed off, crossing his arms and looking to Hermione expectantly.

"The library." She sighed dejectedly, looking down as Harry and Ron exchanged smirks. "But hear me out!" She whipped her head up, her expression shifting to one of austerity once again. "Harry, we need to talk about what's been happening to you." She sat down on one of the armrests on Harry's chair, who still was looking at his half-completed History of Magic essay with feigned interest.

"Mate, as much as it pains me to say this," Ron suddenly grinned, "Hermione's right." The witch rolled her eyes, but didn't comment. "You said you heard voices that Lockhart or anyone else you passed didn't seem to hear. That's not something you should take lightly."

"I don't think Lockhart hears anything if it's not outright brown-nosing." Harry joked, turning his eyes back to his essay. He glanced up to see neither of his friends were amused. "Fine. And to be clear, it's not voices plural. I heard once voice, clear as day. It was like nails on a chalkboard, but worse."

"You're sure it was the same voice over and over? You weren't just picking up on a conversation between a couple of school ghosts?" Ron asked.

"Positive."

"Look, I say we go to the library, browse around about wizards who have heard voices – "

"Hermione, that's just going to be an afternoon of reading about total loonies. That's not what's happening to me!" Harry griped, his tone much sharper than he intended. Hermione winced, and he instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry. That was a bit much. But I need you guys to believe me, I'm not going crazy."

"Harry, of course we believe you." Hermione whispered, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Who says I can't believe you and think you're mental, anyway?" Ron asked, his goofy smile returning. Harry couldn't help but snort. "The library's closer to the Great Hall anyway. From there we can get to the food faster than anyone else, I reckon."

"Do you ever think about anything other than food?" Hermione sighed dramatically as the trio got to their feet.

"Sometimes he talks about Quidditch. But I reckon he's still thinking about food while he does." Harry was now grinning, and Ron shrugged good-naturedly.

"I see nothing wrong with my priorities." He winked, and just like that, they were off to the library, joking and laughing amongst themselves. It was almost as if Harry hadn't been hearing that strange voice, or repeating its vague threats in his mind ever since he first heard them. Everything felt natural and normal for a blissful few minutes.

They were only a few feet from the entrance when the ghost of Nearly Headless Nick floated by, muttering to himself. At the sight of the three students he perked up rather excitedly. "Hello, children! Enjoying your Halloween?" They nodded awkwardly as the ghost sighed almost wistfully. "It's the anniversary of my death today. Five-hundred years to the day, can you believe that?" Harry barely resisted the urge to cringe at his remark. It seemed like a rather ghastly thing to think about, alive or dead.

"You ought to celebrate something big like that!" Ron joked. Harry and Hermione groaned, expecting their friend to have horribly offended their house's ghost.

"Oh, I am celebrating!"

"You are?" The trio said incredulously.

"Oh yes, I'm having a death-day party in the dungeons. I'd invite the three of you, but it appears you're on your way to the library. Studies come before leisure, it's been five centuries since I was in school and I still know that much."

"Right, leisure." Ron muttered, earning an elbow from Hermione.

"Thanks for your offer, Sir Nicholas, but we really should be getting in there. And, erm, happy death-day?" Harry added uncertainly. As soon as he said it he realized it was probably a crude remark, but the ghost beamed at him.

"Thank you very much, Harry Potter! Such kind words. Take care now!" The phantom mused before floating down the corridor.

After mercifully concluding their conversation with Nearly Headless Nick, they walked into the library and claimed a table in a back corner, away from the prying eyes of their fellow students and Madam Pince. Ron offered to look in the Invisibility Section while Harry and Hermione opted to peruse the shelves dedicated to magical creatures.

"You really think it's some talking invisible monster that I'm hearing?" Harry asked as Hermione yanked a book off the shelf and added it to the pile Harry held in his arms.

"I don't know, Harry. But we're going to try everything. I'm going to try everything." She pulled another ancient-looking tome out of a stack before turning back to Harry. "It's Halloween, you know."

"Wow, really?" Harry asked with a smirk. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You remember what happened on Halloween?"

"Blimey, Hermione if you think this voice has anything to do with my parents being murdered – "

"How are you this dense?" Hermione fumed, hitting him in the shoulder with the book she held. Harry winced, and dust actually flew from the dated pages. "I'm not talking about your hearing voices right now. And I'm not talking about your parents, either."

Harry raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in confusion. Hermione lifted the book to hit him again before he remembered.

"Oh! Wait, wait don't hit me!" He gingerly moved backwards. "The troll. Of course I remember. Sorry, just, I've been thinking about pretty serious things lately. Hearing a voice threaten to kill makes one think more morbid thoughts, that's all. Obviously I remember what happened last year."

"You've been thinking about serious things? And you don't think us almost getting murdered by a troll is serious?" She asked, her tone now more amused than anything.

"Murdered? I think I had that troll sorted just fine. Didn't need you to come waltzing out from under the sink to steal my thunder." Harry grinned. "I'd done a perfectly good job of sticking my wand up that brute's nose. I'm sure I would have had it begging for mercy in no time."

"Uh-huh." Hermione placed the book she was clutching in the stack Harry held and crossed her arms. He could tell from her self-satisfied expression she was recalling him being flung around like a ragdoll before she'd saved the day.

"Anyway…" Harry broke the silence that was making him increasingly uncomfortable. "Why did you bring that up?" He asked tentatively. He, Ron, and Hermione had made a point of not mentioning the incident or any events before that day. Ron's cruelties had made her life miserable, something all of them were eager to leave undiscussed since the redhead's turnaround.

"Just thinking. About how much things have changed…" She sighed, turning back to the shelves. "This time last year I had one friend. Obviously he's a great friend, my best friend, and he means the world to me." Harry was grateful Hermione's eyes were directed in the opposite direction of his blushing face. "Now, I've got all of our year in Gryffindor as friends. Great friends, at that. Great enough to defend me from a certain little brat in Slytherin. And not to mention the fact that I had everyone in our house – including people I've never even met – celebrating my birthday."

"At this rate the Hufflepuffs will be organizing your birthday party by fifth-year." Harry offered. He heard Hermione chuckle quietly, but she didn't turn.

"It's nice. Having friends like this. And looking back on Halloween…it feels like a turning point – I'd always had you, but after that day Ron managed to start tolerating me. And from then I at least acquainted myself with everyone in our year, and now suddenly I've got Pavarti Patil threatening to jinx Malfoy off the Astronomy Tower for me. And Lavender, and Dean, and all of them."

Harry noticed her voice was wavering with emotion by the time she finished speaking. Clumsily adjusting himself so he was balancing the pile of books Hermione had gathered in one arm, he pulled out his wand and muttered a familiar incantation. He levitated the books carefully and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I take it that it's a new feeling for you too." Harry whispered. He heard Hermione inhale sharply, as if trying to repress a sob. She nodded after a pause. Harry gave a sad smile, even if she couldn't see it, and squeezed her shoulder gently. Slowly, she turned until Harry could see her brown eyes were sparkling with tears. Harry didn't hesitate and pulled her into a hug. It wasn't bone-crushing like Hermione's usually were, but it was still full of emotion and comfort. It was gentle, almost tender. He wanted to communicate just how much he wanted to be there for her without squeezing the life out of her and sending her running.

After a few moments he felt Hermione slowly even her breath as she kept her face buried in his shoulder. "I know how you feel." Harry whispered, resting his chin on her mane of bushy-brown hair contentedly.

"You've said that a few times by now." Hermione chuckled into his robe. "You should get some new material."

"Not if it works every time." He responded, softly tightening his arms around his best friend. She sighed, and the pair stood in peaceful silence, only broken by the occasional sniffle from Hermione. "So, will you be crying every Halloween?" He finally asked. "I just want to know now, so I can bring tissues next time." He smirked as Hermione pulled away so he could see her roll her eyes.

"Sarcastic Harry is a prat." She huffed before grabbing the pile of books that was currently hovering next to them. "I believe we came here to do some research." She said matter-of-factly before marching off to the table. Just like that, she was business as usual. Harry shook his head at the sudden change in demeanor and followed her, unable to suppress a smile.

The trio spent an agonizing hour poring over all kinds of texts. Ron and Hermione occasionally chimed in to ask if whatever they were reading about applied to what Harry heard, but he shook his head every time. It wasn't until Ron distractedly checked his watch they realized the Halloween Feast had begun without them. Ron grumbled sarcastically as they hurriedly returned their books and dashed out of the library.

"Oh, sorry Ronald, but can we please take a detour?" Hermione suddenly asked, stopping in her tracks.

"Why?" Harry asked, perplexed. Hermione's expression was one of anxiety, and he thought about taking her hand. She just shook her head and pointed to a door a few paces ahead of them. "What's in there?" He asked. Hermione shook her head again and motioned to turn around. Harry and Ron sighed before obliging.

"There better be a good reason for me missing out on the dancing skeletons…" Ron scowled. Hermione let out a shaky breath before she began explaining her sudden panic.

"That door I pointed to is the girls' bathroom. It's the bathroom that Moaning Myrtle haunts."

"Who's Moaning Myrtle? Why do they call her that?" Ron's tone lightened significantly for the second question, but a glare from Hermione vanquished all mature (or immature, depending on how you feel) thoughts from his mind.

"She's a ghost, and she haunts that bathroom. It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to, you know, with her wailing at you – "

"Loud and clear." Harry interjected, very much interested in changing the conversation to anything besides what happened in the girls' toilets.

"Alright, well, it's just up this staircase and to the left, right? That'll take us to the main staircase to the Great Hall." Hermione sighed, and the pair of boys nodded and they began ascending.

"Rip…tear…kill…" Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in fear.

"What's the matter with you?" Ron asked. "You're all pale, are you that hungry?" Harry shook his head, feeling a familiar icy chill envelope his entire body. He suddenly found himself hyper-ventilating as he whipped his head around.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, gingerly putting a hand on his arm.

"Please…" Harry gasped out. "Please tell me you heard that." He saw Ron and Hermione exchange uneasy glances. "Guys?"

"Is it the voice?" Hermione asked, her eyes darkening with concern. Harry didn't answer, now straining his ears once again.

"So hungry…for so long…"

"Listen to it! Don't you hear it?" Harry cried out. His friends now looked more worried than he'd ever seen them. "It's moving away, come one!"

Without waiting for a response, he began sprinting up the stairs, listening intently for the venomous voice he'd been thinking about for weeks.

"Kill…time to kill…"

Harry clutched the stone wall next to him, his heart now beating hard enough for him to feel it across his entire body. Someone was going to kill something, and he had to stop it. He took off again, his friends close behind begging for him to stop.

"I smell blood…" He heard faintly. His stomach flip-flopped and he felt his breath hitch in horror.

"It's going to kill someone!" Harry cried out, which only worried Ron and Hermione even more. "It's going to kill…" Harry stopped as he rounded a corner and faced a deserted passageway. His heart sank.

Even though the corridor was dimly lit, he could see ahead enough to spot a familiar-looking feline hanging from one of the hall's torch brackets. Mrs. Norris – Argus Filch's cat – looked dead as a doornail - she wasn't moving at all.

"Why's she all stiff like that?" Ron muttered, and the trio inched forward. Hermione gasped and leapt backwards as her foot splashed a puddle that stretched all the way to underneath the unnervingly still cat.

Harry caught sight of an unsettling color daubed upon the stone walls, and wordlessly pointed to what it spelled:

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, Beware.

"We should go." Hermione whispered. Ron nodded and wordlessly began speed-walking away from the scene. Harry stared at the cat for a moment, wondering if the voice he'd heard was its killer when Hermione grabbed him by the hand. "Harry, we can't be caught here. Let's go tell a Professor."

She led him away, practically white-knuckled in her grip on Harry's hand as they caught up with Ron just outside the library. Before any of them could speak, a tremendous rumble rang out from below them.

"Oh no…" Hermione whispered as their fellow students marched past them towards their various common rooms. They were on a collision course for the cat and the writing on the wall. Unsure of what to do, Harry grabbed each of his friends by the arm and they slid into the crowd to try and avoid distinguishing themselves.

"Act surprised." He hissed to Ron and Hermione. They nodded, and directed their eyes forward. It was a few more seconds before they heard the first scream. The throng of people around them suddenly began sprinting towards the bloodcurdling shriek, and the trio were forced to run in order to avoid being trampled.

Harry found himself being pushed forward as the crowd gathered around Mrs. Norris until he was practically standing in the puddle. Everyone was staring at either Mrs. Norris or the words smeared along the wall for all to see.

"Enemies of the heir, beware!" A familiar voice sneered near Harry. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!" Malfoy taunted as he turned to Hermione, who had materialized at Harry's side. Harry felt rage boil in his veins again and he – along with a few others – whipped out his wand and aimed it at the pale Slytherin's face.

"Wand down, Mr. Potter!" A stern voice cried out. Professor McGonagall stormed over, followed closely by the Headmaster and a few other faculty members. When Harry refused to move his wand from between Malfoy's eyes she forcefully grabbed his wrist and jerked it downwards.

"Save it for the Quidditch match." She whispered in a voice only Harry could hear, and the boy wizard barely suppressed his smile.

"He just brandished it like he was going to jinx me, Professor, you must – " Malfoy spouted before McGonagall held up a hand.

"Your remarks were heard by everyone, Mister Malfoy. Severus?" McGonagall asked, her voice devoid of all emotion as she turned expectantly to the head of Slytherin. The Potions professor flickered his eyes between Malfoy, McGonagall, and surprisingly, Hermione.

"Detention, Draco. I believe Mr. Filch will need some assistance cleaning the Hogwarts trophy room this evening." Snape uttered, his tone unflinching. Malfoy sputtered in surprise, but looked to the ground dejectedly. Harry vowed to make the slimeball's life miserable when they played in Quidditch next weekend.

Dumbledore suddenly walked briskly through the crowd, with Filch hot on his heels. After the caretaker let out an ugly wail at the sight of Mrs. Norris, Dumbledore gingerly removed her from the bracket.

"Petrified..." He said quietly, so only those closest to him and the cat could hear. It didn't take long for the whispers to spread to the back. "Was anyone here when this attack occurred?" The Headmaster asked, calmly surveying the room. "Does anyone have any information that they would like…" His eyes landed on Harry, and the boy wizard felt his stomach plummet to the floor as Dumbledore stared at him. "…to share."

Harry suddenly remembered an unsettling line from when he and Hermione spoke in the Headmaster's office the previous year: "I don't need a cloak to become invisible." Harry wondered silently if Dumbledore knew about the voice he'd heard, and thought about revealing it before a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Potter here wasn't in the Great Hall for the feast. Neither were Weasley and the Mu – and Granger." Malfoy spat venomously, turning to look at Harry.

"You're the one who seems to know that Muggle-Borns are in danger. Care to tell us how you know that?" Ron retorted.

"Silence, Weasley." Snape suddenly cut in before Malfoy could launch a barrage of financial-based insults. "Young Mister Malfoy was in the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast with the rest of his schoolmates. The entirety of the student body was present with the exception of you, Potter, and Granger. Care to explain that?" He asked, his sneer rivalling Malfoy's. He turned to Harry, his eyes filled with malice. Harry's nails were dangerously close to drawing blood as he clenched his hand into a fist.

"I was in the library." He said through gritted teeth.

"Why?"

"Because I'm a good student. Studies come before leisure." He added, his tone shifting to one of defiance. He didn't have to turn to know Hermione was rolling her eyes at his reference.

"Quite right." McGonagall interjected before the tense standoff escalated. "It's clear that Mister Weasley, Miss Granger, and most importantly Madam Pince will likely vouch for Mister Potter's whereabouts this evening, Severus." The Transfiguration instructor threw a tense glare towards her colleague. "Albus, it appears unnecessary to ask if any of our students were capable of such a heinous act as what we're looking at. I especially won't tolerate it against members of my own House. What happened to Mrs. Norris is clearly advanced far beyond what is taught here at Hogwarts."

'So it's Dark Magic…' Harry thought uneasily as McGonagall's features hardened at her last sentence.

"I agree Minerva." The Headmaster sighed, his eyes glancing between Harry and the cat. "I simply wished to know if anyone had any knowledge of our dear friend Mrs. Norris that they were willing to disclose." Harry pursed his lips as Dumbledore gazed in his direction once again, feeling as if his mind was being read. "It's late. Prefects, if you will escort the students back to their common rooms at once."

Harry tried to hide his relief as he, Ron, and Hermione turned to walk towards Gryffindor Tower. They moved slowly, hoping the corridor would empty of their fellow students so they could talk.

"Do you reckon this is what that bloody elf was talking about?" Ron whispered worriedly. Harry saw Hermione grimace, and he shrugged uneasily.

"I guess so. It's hard to believe there'd be some other danger at Hogwarts besides someone running around petrifying stuff."

"And you two made him stop trying to help you?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I wish he would have told us more about this. Maybe he knows what the Chamber of Secrets is, if it's even real." Hermione wondered out loud, ignoring Ron's comment.

Harry wasn't worried about Dobby, however. Once again he found himself worrying about the voice he'd heard. It was too close to the scene of the crime to even consider that they were unrelated. "Should I have said something to Dumbledore? About the voice?"

"No," said Ron, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."

Something in Ron's voice made Harry ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I believe you, you prat." Ron grinned. "But – you have to admit, it's certainly not normal…"

"Definitely not normal. Next time we're in the library we should keep reading up and trying to figure out what you're hearing. And we should read about the Chamber of Secrets, whatever that is." Hermione added, her voice faltering as she finished. Harry felt his heart shrink in on itself. It was clear she was replaying Malfoy's words in her mind.

"Don't worry, Hermione. McGonagall told me to let Malfoy have it in the match next week." Harry gently took his dejected-looking friend's hands. "And you know none of us are going to let anyone hurt you."

She nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek. The trio continued back to the common room, Ron with his arm thrown casually around Harry's shoulders, trying to lighten the tension as he joked about Mrs. Norris, while Harry laced his fingers through Hermione's, occasionally squeezing her hand. He was happy to see that she beamed at him every time he tightened his grip, no matter how morose her expression had been a moment prior.

Harry went to bed that night and dreamt pleasant visions of bashing Draco Malfoy's face in with a Beater's bat while Hermione cheered vigorously from the stands above.

A/N: Hey everyone! Pretty important chapter. Amidst all the fluff of the last *checks notes* ten chapters, this is a fic that goes through canon. Thus, important canon events will be included. Obviously things will unfold differently because our characters have diverged a bit from their canon counterparts. Nonetheless, expect the Chamber of Secrets to dominate content for much of the upcoming chapters.

To each and every one of my diligent and incredible followers, favorite-rs, and reviewers, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You guys are dope. If you happen to think to yourself at any point during this chapter/story "Hey, this is not a pile of hot garbage!" then please do leave a review/follow/favorite. It means the world to me. Even if your review literally reads "This is not a pile of hot garbage!" I will treasure it forever.