AN: This is literally my first fanfiction. Don't expect high quality content because I certainly don't. In the future I will probably read this and think it is a piece of garbage. But right now, I am proud of it. Therefore, advice is not only allowed but encouraged. I shall also warn you, I am going to change most canon events, so don't expect the timeline to be precise.
On a happier note, please join the Haphne server! Link: discord dot gg/pKSdvJQvhU
We do several weekly activities such as a discussion club, Care of Magical Creatures lessons and our own movie/anime club!
8th of September 1992, Great Hall of Hogwarts
Harry was having a nice dinner at the Great Hall, sitting with his friends. Today had been a demanding day, both in physical and mental aspects. Classes had been quite tough, the theory of transfiguration once again getting the best of him. And DADA had just been a disappointment itself.
If Harry thought that the first class was a disaster, then the second was an apocalypse. After bragging of his achievements. Professor Lockhart introduced them to the Cornish pixies. What could have been an interesting practical lesson turned into mayhem almost instantly. Lockhart released the pixies without suggesting anything useful against them, and the pixies took control of the lesson. Books flying around, all the windows broken, Neville hanging from the chandelier somehow…
The worst part of it was not Lockhart. The worst part was Hermione defending him with 'He is just providing real world experience for us'. Ron's comment about Lockhart's incompetence wasn't appreciated by her at all.
Therefore, just as they finished eating, Harry and his friends started their climb to Gryffindor tower.
"Have I ever told you how much I hate this staircase?"
"Probably a thousand times Ronald. Though I must admit she is being particularly rebellious today."
"Well Hermione, despite their despise for academic work, the Weasley twins have never been late to class. I honestly think that Fred and George manage to control them somehow. Must be the pranking spirit."
"This does not help Harry. Why would the staircase send us to the second-floor bathrooms after all?"
"I don't know Hermione." Just then, the staircase stopped, and they could only go forward.
"Well, since we are already here, we should walk around and wait until the staircase wants to move again." Ron said.
"Yeah, as much as I hate exploring after last year, I hate waiting for the staircase more." Hermione admitted.
The trio walked along the corridor, just to realise they were getting closer to the girl's bathroom. Just before anyone could bring back memories from first year, Ron said:
"Guys, look at that wall over there. There is something written in… is that blood?!"
Harry looked closely at the wall Ron was pointing at, and to his dismay, it was indeed blood. He started reading the message:
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir… beware."
Harry wanted to inspect the message better when he was interrupted by Hermione.
"Look, it's Mrs. Norris right there. But she doesn't seem to be moving… Is she... dead?"
Harry and Ron looked at Mrs. Norris, and she was definitely not moving. It looked as if someone had managed to turn her into a statue, or as if she had been dissected. They began to ponder over what happened, when they were no longer alone.
"Ha! Caught in the act! See headmaster, I told you some students were the culprits, but you didn't believe me!" That was the voice of Argus Filch, Mrs. Norris' owner, and the easily irritated caretaker.
"And I must reiterate Argus, that it is impossible, even for the most proficient of students, to directly cause Mrs. Norris' petrification."
"How do you know it is a petrification?" That snobbish voice came from none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, who had been hiding behind the headmaster.
"Well, Gilderoy. I must admit that this is not the first time I have seen something like this, and my experience is proving itself useful once more."
"Headmaster, are you saying what I think you are saying."
"It is what you think indeed, Minerva. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, again."
The trio of students looked at each other, unaware if the adults wanted anything with them. Dumbledore did, and so he asked:
"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger. I going to ask a series of questions, and I want you to answer with honesty. Just to remind you, you are not in trouble, allright?" All three students nodded, to express that they understood what they were telling them. So, Dumbledore asked:
"First of all, how did you end up here?" Hermione seemed the least nervous of them, so she answered first.
"Well, we finished dinner, so we decided to go to the common room. Then we went up the staircase, but instead of moving to the right on the second floor, it moved to the left."
"Ah, the staircase can be truly unpredictable…" Dumbledore commented. Hermione continued.
"It left us here, so considering that it would not move for a while we decided to walk around… And then we found Mrs. Norris… but we didn't do anything else!"
"That is alright Mrs. Granger. Right now, what you should do is leave with your friends to Gryffindor tower and tell everyone about what happened."
"Are you sure Albus?" Professor McGonagall interrupted. "Won't that cause mass panic?"
"I am sure Minerva." He answered. "The more people that know, the more careful they will be, and the less attacks we suffer in the future."
25th of September 1992, History of Magic classroom
Harry was once again trying to keep himself awake during History class. After the massive improvement in Potions, professor Binns had now become the worst teacher at the school, followed by Professor Trelawney, who Harry had never seen. The class was still considered nap time by many, and Hermione and Greengrass seemed to be the only ones to be fully functioning in that class. Harry had tried at the start of the year (just for his rivalry's sake) but he knew when he had to surrender, and History was definitely the case.
Life in the castle had changed significantly for the past few weeks. People seemed scared for what happened to Mrs Norris, and a few people had become paranoid over the attack. Filch's attitude wasn't helping either. The caretaker snapped even more than usual and for the simplest of reasons. Laughter was a common source of detentions for whoever did it in front of the caretaker.
The class was being as boring as usual when suddenly, for what may have been the first time ever, someone asked a question to Binns. The raised hand belonged to Hermione, though the ghost wasn't aware of that.
"Do you need something Ms. …?"
"Granger, sir. Hermione Granger. I wanted to ask if you knew anything about the Chamber of Secrets, sir."
"Aaah, yes, the fabled Chamber of Secrets. Since everyone is wondering about it, I am going to tell you now, but you won't receive anything else from me." All the students were paying attention, even the ones who were previously asleep.
"The Chamber of Secrets is a rumoured room, that was apparently built by none other than Salazar Slytherin. The most infamous Hogwarts' founder supposedly built it behind his friends' back, and he may have hidden it somewhere in the castle. Inside this room, he put a horrible creature, a monster no doubt. The purpose of said monster was to purge the school of the so called 'undesirables', those students of muggle origin. This monster could be only controlled by Slytherin and his heirs, so if he couldn't finish the job some of his descendants may. In the end, due to the muggleborns' concern, the school was inspected. The school was checked in its completion, several times in the past, but no Chamber, not even a clue, was ever found."
The students found themselves speechless after such story. Their intrigue had turned into understanding, and in some cases, fear. No one's perception of the Chamber would ever be the same after that. The professor declared:
"Unfortunately, all of this is nothing but mere speculation, that has been growing for centuries. We shall not dawdle in myths and child stories, but immerse ourselves in those things that actually happened, such as the Goblin rebellions. Moving on to those, in 1536, Gornuk the Smelly…"
The class returned to its usual mood, to the students regret. Professor Binns had already finished his explanation, and true to his word, the Chamber of Secrets was never mentioned in his class again.
A few hours later, DADA classroom
Harry had a love-hate relationship with Defence Against the Dark Arts. On the one side, he felt attracted to the subject, and he found it very useful knowledge with a truly practical application, and a logical aspect of theory as well. On the other side, incompetent teachers (or people with dark lords growing up behind them) had made Harry very wary of the subject sometimes. And this was one of those times.
Harry was once again listening to the smiley moron. That's the nickname he and Ron had come up for Lockhart, and according to Greengrass' grin, other students approved of it as well.
After the massive disaster with the Cornish pixies, Lockhart had given up in trying to teach them anything useful. Instead, they spent most of their class reading fragments from his books, and he asked for volunteers to help him quite often.
Harry had been one of those unlucky students to participate in Lockhart's class. He had already grown tired of him (Lockhart had tried to give him 'celebrity lessons' several times in the past) but lately Harry was going insane. They had been reading passages of Wandering with Werewolves and Harry had to act as a werewolf several times already. To add fuel to the fire, Greengrass had made sure to mock him for it, and both Davis and Parkinson laughed as well. It would have been tolerable, had it not been for Ron, who was snickering as well. Traitor. He would remember this one.
Lockhart was once again asking for volunteers to help him when another voice was heard:
"Professor, I think Harry is willing to help you today." Harry started looking around, only to find himself in front of Greengrass' amused grin. Harry stared again at Lockhart, who seemed to be looking forward to him rising of his seat to help him again. Harry looked at the paragraph in his book, and he had a brilliant idea. 'My genius is almost frightening.' Harry looked at Greengrass for a second, and then said:
"You know what I think Professor? In this fragment there is a piece of dialogue between yourself and several characters… Maybe Daphne could help us as well? To make it more realistic, of course!"
Lockhart doubted himself for a moment, but then he said:
"What an excellent idea Harry. Come on Miss Greengrass, join us so we can make a better interpretation!"
Daphne's face looked as if she had bitten a lemon. Harry had the impression that he would be in trouble in the near future, but he would have fun for now.
"Alright Professor, how may I help?" Daphne asked resignedly.
Timeskip to the end of the class…
Harry and Daphne had suffered through one of their most embarrassing moments in their whole lives. Apparently, the script for today included dialogue between an old married couple, with the whole 'Darling' and 'Sweetheart' and other nicknames in between. Three of the students (Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, and Tracey Davis) had been having the time of their lives as they were witnessing this in the first row. The only thing consoling Harry was that at least he had managed to drag someone down with him.
Tracey Davis was barely containing her laughter after the last sentence. Knowing that Daphne and Potter would not see her, she moved slightly to the left and whispered:
"Pssst… Weasley"
"What do you want Davis?"
"Just to make ourselves clear, we are never going to let them live this one down, are we?"
"Are you joking? I am never going to let Harry forget this!"
"Good. Daphne will remember this until she dies!"
22nd of October 1992, corridor on the first floor
Harry was walking along the corridor in order to get to the Great Hall. He had endured a long and exhausting day, and he only wanted to have dinner and go to sleep. He was about to approach the descending staircase when he heard a voice behind him.
Harry turned around to see that the ghost of Gryffindor house seemed quite disappointed, so he decided to ask what was wrong. Said ghost, Sir Nicholas, answered:
"My solicitude to join the Headless Hunt club had been denied… Denied! You would think that 45 hits with an axe would make you quite Headless, but that is not enough for them!"
"I'm sorry to hear this, is there anything I could do for you?" Harry knew the answer would probably be negative, but being a ghost didn't mean you didn't deserve a minimum of human interaction.
"Well, unless you knew where I could get a dead axe to chop the rest of the head off, then not in this situation. But there is another thing you could help me with… Tell me, young Harry, would you be interested in joining my Deathday?"
Harry had never heard of this before, so he asked Sir Nicholas what he was talking about. The ghost answered him gladly:
"Quite simple, Harry. The undead have a birthday to commemorate a certain amount of time that passed after their birth. We the dead have a Deathday to commemorate the time passed since our deaths. And I am very glad to announce that the following 31st of October, I will be celebrating my 500th Deathday!"
Harry was not very surprised by that. The most important topic of conversation for ghosts was death, after all. What surprised was that Nick shared Deathday with his parents… Would they be celebrating one too? What he knew was that it would be very impolite to deny his request after all that conversation…
"So what do you think, young Harry? Can I count with you for my Deathday party? You can bring friends along if you want."
"Yeah, sure… Me and my friends will be glad to attend Sir Nicholas!"
The ghost was happy with his answer and left to do whatever ghosts are supposed to do. (Don't ask me, the author isn't a ghost)
31st of October 1992, Hogwarts dungeons
Harry and his friends were currently in the dungeons, celebrating sir Nicholas' Deathday party. When Harry told them about the promise he had made, Ron and Hermione didn't know how to react. Hermione was torn between wondering if that was allowed by the rules (as if they had not broken enough of them already) and curiosity towards a tradition that didn't even appear in Hogwarts a history. Ron was curious as well, and also afraid that the whole Deathday thing would just be a depressing funeral.
He could not have been more wrong. The whole thing was definitely a party, but it was also the weirdest party they had ever been at. There was a band playing, but they seemed to have died several centuries ago. There were several tables full of food, but all of it was rotten to the core.
And that was without mentioning the guests. Dozens upon dozens of ghosts had come to sir Nicholas' Deathday, including his long departed wife. According to what Harry heard, ghosts all around the country (every single one at Hogwarts included) had been invited to the party. The trio had several awkward conversations that night.
Ron found out about the ghosts' eating habits. Turns out that despite the rotten food staying in the table, the ghosts could feel the taste and smell as if the food was in good condition.
Hermione had a very depressing conversation with a ghost named Myrtle. She was one of the castle's ghosts, and she was a student who died over 50 years before that… According to Hermione, she still hadn't gotten over it, and she cried about it quite often.
Meanwhile, Harry was being approached by Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, the leader of the Headless Hunt Club. He had an amiable discussion with him, and Harry made sure to leave a good impression, both of him and Sir Nicholas. The ghost seemed to know about his intentions though, but in the end, he accepted that bringing alive people to a death party was quite exceptional, and an honour.
After mingling around for a while, Harry and his friends decided that they had already been polite enough to their host, and decided to leave. They were up in the third floor, when Harry heard something:
"Come... Come to me... let me rip you... let me tear you!"
"Wait, have you heard that?"
"Heard what Harry?" Ron asked.
"The voice! Someone is going to kill somebody!"
"Harry, there is no voice. Neither Ron nor I have heard anything before you spoke."
"Wait what, but I swear… I definitely heard something alright?!"
"Well Harry, being the only person able to hear a voice is not a good thing, you know?"
And with that statement from Ron, Harry decided to just leave it here, to avoid his friends calling him insane.
That same night, Tom Riddle seethed angrily. Despite taking control of Ginny once again, he had not been able to find a victim for his monster. It was unfortunate, but he expected some setbacks, specially at the beginning. It didn't matter though. He would have to work harder, but in the end, the legacy of Slytherin would prevail.
7th of November 1992, Hogwarts Quidditch pitch
The Gryffindor Quidditch team was sitting in one of the changing rooms. Oliver was currently giving his motivational speech to prepare everyone for their match against Slytherin.
"Alright everyone, hear me up. The Slytherins may have the better brooms, but we have better players sitting on them! We have a pair of exceptional beaters!" Fred and George puffed at that.
"We also have a trio of outstanding chasers and an undefeated seeker!" Harry blushed a little at that, and Fred and George said:
"Let's not forget about the coolest keeper around!" Wood showed them a not-at-all imposing glare, and he continued.
"Therefore, if we don't beat Slytherin arse today I am going to be very disappointed! And Professor McGonagall may murder us on our sleep." Everyone shuddered at that.
"Now, go on lions and win this game!"
After Wood's speech was over, the players went out to the pitch. They found that the Slytherins were already waiting for them, and Madame Hooch was ready as well.
Wood and Flint went to greet each other, and they may have had a more forceful handshake in more than one way. Professor Hooch blew her whistle, and the match began.
Lee Jordan's voice could be heard narrating the game, just as he had been last year.
Harry was immediately scouting for the snitch, paying attention to Greengrass as well, to make sure he wasn't surprised. Today she was wearing her hair with a ponytail, and Harry had to admit that she looked quite attractive. 'Wait, where did that thought come from?' Just as he was gathering his thougths again, Harry was forced to duck in order to avoid a bludger going for his chest.
"Close one, eh Harry?" Fred, or George said. They did not have time to celebrate though, as the bludger stopped in the air and came after Harry again.
"You will have to try again!" The other twin hit the bludger again, and it was directed towards Flint, who was currently possessing the quaffle. However, when the bludger was a few feet away from the Slytherin captain, it turned back again and directed itself towards Harry's head.
While Harry and the twins battled against the crazy bludger, several things were happening in the match. First of all, without anyone disputing the other bludger, the Slytherin beaters were constantly harassing the Gryffindor chasers.
This had been going on for several minutes, and the score was currently on 50-10 towards Slytherin. Harry was quite sure, that had it not been for Fred and George, he could have been horribly hurt several times. This however, presented another problem: No one was tracking Greengrass, and she had a close call with the snitch already. Thankfully, an interception by Alicia had avoided the capture of the snitch.
The game was going nowhere for Gryffindor, and the Captain knew it. After some more minutes, Oliver called in a time break to speak to his players.
After everyone had finally entered the changing room, Oliver began his speech:
"I don't exactly know what's happening right now, but this has to change immediately. Fred, George, where were you when Angelina was hit by the bludger on her back?"
Fred was the one to answer: "Well Oliver, me and George were busy trying to save Harrikins from getting mauled by the other bludger."
"And why was that happening?"
This time George responded: "We do not know Oliver. Someone has been controlling it, that's for sure. The bloody bludger didn't even try to attack anyone else in all the match!"
Seeing the storm of Wood's mood incoming, Harry decided to intervene pre-emptively:
"Guys, leave it to me, I am more than capable to fight a crazy bludger on my own."
One of the twins answered: "Are you sure? We don't want you to get hurt…"
Harry thought for a moment, but he responded: "Actually, there is one thing you can do for me… I need you to throw the other bludger at me as hard as you can, whenever you can."
Angelina, who had been silent for the whole ordeal, intervened: "Are you insane?! You already have a steel ball trying to kill you, and you want another?!"
Harry answered: "Yes, I may be insane. If no one else wants to contribute, can we continue with the match?"
Nobody wanted to intervene, so they went outside.
As soon as the game started, the crazy bludger started going after Harry again. This time, however; the twins were releasing all their frustration on the opposing team, and results were starting to show. The match was currently 70-50 towards Slytherin.
Nothing seemed to change on the seekers until Harry finally spotted something shiny. The snitch was literally there! He looked at Greengrass for a second to see that she had seen it as well.
Harry started his dash towards the snitch. Halfway through, Greengrass stood parallel to him, with her arm extended forwards, trying to catch the golden ball. But then, when it all seemed to get down to the two seekers, there was a yell:
"Here you have it HARRYKINS!"
Harry became aware of his surroundings to hear two whistling noises. And just when he was going to get hit in the face, he ducked. That was a brilliant move, because the bludgers smashed into each other a fraction of a second later, just where Harry's skull had been. At all this, the Slytherin seeker had slowed down to a halt thinking the bludger was intended for her.
Harry took advantage of her decision. He stretched his arm as much as possible and he finally grasped the golden snitch. He could barely believe it, and was about to show it to the stadium when something unfortunate happened. The quaffle hit him straight in the arm at blistering speed. This caused Harry to fall to his doom, and despite a significant loss of acceleration (caused by the Professors' reaction) he still hit the ground.
Harry hit the ground with tremendous force. He barely had enough strength to rise his head from the grass, and he was actually fighting in order to keep his consciousness. Harry looked at his arm only to see a bloody mess, and it was bended in an unnatural angle.
'Definitely broken.' Harry thought.
Whilst Harry was doing a damage evaluation, several people were approaching him. Oliver Wood was trying to congratulate him, Daphne Greengrass cared about his physical integrity, and the rest of the Gryffindor team shared both feelings. Even Colin Creevey could be seen in the background with a camera…
In the end, nothing of this really mattered, since it was no other than Gilderoy Lockhart who got there first. He looked at Harry in concentration and then declared:
"Don't worry Harry. I have encountered broken bones several times during my adventures, I will heal you in a jiffy!"
Harry widened his eyes and tried to save himself from his doom. "No, please, anyone but you! Where the hell is the healer!?"
To which Lockhart responded: "Don't listen to him, he must have hit his head harder than it looked… Now Harry stay still for a second there…"
What Harry felt afterwards could not be described easily. On the bright side, he no longer felt any pain, and he could think easier than before. On the other side, he didn't feel anything in his arm. Nothing at all. Harry dared to look at his arm for a second and found out that there seemed to be no bone structure left inside at all.
After realising that, Harry entered in a shock state, and he was no longer awake.
8th of November 1992, Hogwarts hospital wing
Harry hated skele-grow. It was the most disgusting thing Harry had ever drank, and it hurt horribly. He could not even scratch his arm to relieve himself, since Madame Pomfrey had strictly forbidden it. Harry had found it impossible to sleep. Maybe next time he should ask the healer for a sleeping draught… His arm was still hurting from all the bone currently regrowing, and at some point, he swore he had heard the voice again. And for what it said, it seemed as if this time it had been successful…
Harry's thoughts were interrupted when the door was suddenly opened:
"I think we should leave him here, Persephone."
"Do we have any ideas of what happened to him?"
"I am afraid we can only speculate for now. I am confident of a few things for now though."
"What do you know Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Mr. Creevey is very fortunate to find himself alive. In addition, I am sure that he has suffered through the same ordeal as Mrs. Norris here. Finally, their condition can be completely cured, but we will need mandrake draught."
The potions professor spoke again:
"So Mr. Creevey will be okay? I know for a fact that my youngest cousin is friends with him, and she will not take it very well..."
"You shall not fear my dear, there has been a lot of luck recently. Both attacks should have been mortal, yet the victims are still alive."
Professor McGonagall added:
"Mr. Creevey was found next to his camera… Don't you think maybe he could have taken a photograph of the attacker?"
"That is an interesting idea, Minerva. Filius, if you could do us the favour?"
"Of course, headmaster." Professor Flitwick answered.
Harry was not sure of what happened next, but suddenly, a horrible odour could be smelled all around the hospital wing.
"I think we can agree that the camera roll will be absolutely useless. Either way, it was a good idea, Minerva."
"What shall we do then Albus? We cannot continue like this?"
"We should make a warning. Both attacks happened while the victim was alone in an isolated part of the castle. Tell the students to go around in small groups. This will make the attacker more wary, but we should also avoid a catastrophe. Are we clear?"
The other heads of house all agreed with the headmaster. Now the only thing remaining would be to warn the students. That would need to be tomorrow morning, and it should be repeated in the common rooms and the Great Hall.