A/N: The beginning of this chapter is pretty much direct rip from the book but with our own added touches, it's amazing how changing just one word can make things sound completely different to their original meaning, in this case we found that very handy. ( we secretly belive J.K. wanted it this way...lol, the old sly dog.) There is also a section in italics which if you don't want to relive ur memories of chamber of secrets you dont have to bother reading becos it is pure direct rip with no changes. Other than that - bon appetite!
-CHAPTER SIX-
Snape: A Homophobe?
Snape was a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose and greasy shoulder length hair, and at this moment, he was smiling, in a way that told Harry he had either seen everything or that he and Ron were in very deep trouble. Probably both.
"Follow me," said Snape. Not daring to even look at each other, Harry and Ron followed Snape up the steps into the vast, echoing entrance hall, which was lit by flaming torches. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the great hall, but Snape led them away from the warmth and light, down a narrow staircase that led into the dungeons.
"In!" he said, opening a door halfway down the cold passageway and pointing.
They entered Snape's office shivering. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of glass jars, in which floated all manner of revolting things, Harry didn't really want to know the name of at the moment. He swore there was a jar with a floating amputated penis. The fireplace was dark and empty and Harry also noted a stack of black wrapped magazines in a pile in the corner. Snape closed the door and turned to look at them.
"So," he said softly, "The train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful boyfriend Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we boys?"
"No sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it-"
"Silence!" said Snape coldly, "What have you done with the car?"
Ron gulped. This wasn't the first time Snape had given Harry the impression of being able to read minds. But a moment later, he understood, as Snape unrolled today's issue of the Evening Prophet.
"You were seen," he hissed, showing them the headline: FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He began to read aloud.
"Two muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower…at noon in Norfolk, Mrs Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing…Mr Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police…six or seven muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?" he said, looking at Ron and smiling still more nastily. "Dear, dear…his own son…"
Harry felt as though he'd just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree's larger branches. If anyone found out Mr Weasley had bewitched the car…he hadn't thought of that.
"You also sicken me boys. You not only broke hundreds of school rules flying a bewitched car to school and damaging a very valuable tree on the Hogwarts grounds, you also had the cheek to involve yourselves in gay activity! I do not wish to witness anything of that manner EVER again. It is completely disgusting and uncalled for. You boys better sort yourselves out before you do something you regret. And believe me if I ever catch you at it again you WILL regret it. Now, most unfortunately you are
not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here."
Harry and Ron stared at each other, white-faced. They sat in silence for ten minutes until finally Snape returned, with Professor McGonagall. She looked extremely angry, her mouth thin and her gaze steely.
"Explain," she said, and Ron launched into the story, starting with the barrier and the station refusing to let them through. Once she knew everything, except that Mr Weasley owned the car, she gave them a lecture about how they should have sent an owl to notify the teachers instead. Both boys just looked at the floor. When she had finished Ron said in a hopeless voice, "We'll go and get our stuff."
"What are you talking about, Weasley?" barked Professor McGonagall.
"Well, you're expelling us aren't you?" said Ron.
"Not today Mr Weasley, but if you do anything like this again, I will have to." Snape looked as though Christmas had been cancelled.
McGonagall continued looking at the boys with steely eyes, "I will not take points from Gryffindor, however, you will both get a detention."
It was better than Harry had expected. Professor McGonagall raised her wand and pointed it at Snape's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared.
"You will eat here and then go straight up to your dormitory," she said. Both teachers left to return to the feast closing the door behind them.
"Oh shit, I thought we'd had it!" said Ron grabbing a sandwich.
"So did I. We'll have to watch our step from now on though…" Harry took a swig of pumpkin juice, just glad to be back at Hogwarts again. The boys psyched themselves up for the lecture they would get from Hermione later on in Gryffindor Tower.
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The next morning, Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who had her copy of Voyages With Vampires propped open against a milk jug. There was a slight stiffness in the way she said 'Morning' which told Harry that she was still disapproving of the way they had arrived. Moments later the post arrived; owls flew in all directions delivering mail to students. Something large and grey fell into Hermione's milk jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.
"Errol!" said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.
"Oh no-" Ron gasped.
"Its alright, he's still alive," said Hermione.
"It's not that- it's THAT."
Ron was pointing to the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary, but Ron was looking at it as though it was about to explode.
"What's the matter?" asked Harry.
"She's- she's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.
"S'pose you better open it, Ron," advised Hermione.
Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak, and slit it open. A roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.
"…STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE
YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE…"
Mrs Weasley's yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table. People were swiveling around to see who had received the Howler and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.
"…LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED…WE'RE ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED, YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN ENQUIRY AT WORK, ITS ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME!"
A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Harry and Ron sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laughed and gradually a babble of talk broke out again.
Hermione closed Voyages With Vampires and looked down at the top of Ron's head.
"Well, I don't know what you expected Ron, but you-"
"Don't tell me I deserved it," snapped Ron.
Harry had no time to feel guilty because Professor McGonagall was handing out timetables to the Gryffindors. Harry took his and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.
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Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and under her nails. Today as she approached the green house she was accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart, who looked the complete opposite to her. He looked immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.
"Greenhouse Three today chaps," announced Professor Sprout who seemed to be getting annoyed by Lockhart's presence. Harry was about to follow Ron and Hermione inside, when Lockhart's hand shot out.
"Harry! I've been wanting a word- don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you Professor Sprout?"
Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.
"Harry," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head, "Harry, Harry, Harry."
Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing.
"When I heard- well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself." Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He was about to say so when Lockhart went on, "Don't know when I've been more shocked. There I was in the staff room reading Voyages With Vampires, my personal favourite when I overhear Professor Snape telling Mr Filch a particularly raunchy story about one Harry Potter and a certain someone," Lockhart winked. "Kissing other boys, Harry, not a habit you should be getting into. Well, of course I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, Harry." It was remarkable how he could show every one of those
brilliant teeth even when he wasn't talking. "Gave you a taste for it, didn't I?" said Lockhart, "Gave you the bug. You got excited and intrigued by our experience in the bookshop and you couldn't wait to do it again."
Harry's heart began to pound faster and faster in his chest. He tried to arrange his face into a look of skepticism, as though this was new to him, and that he had no idea what Lockhart was talking about- alas it didn't work.
"I understand, Harry. Natural to want a bit more once you've had that first taste- and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head- but see here young man, you can't start kissing boys to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, alright? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! 'It's alright for him, he's an internationally famous wizard, he must have dozens of people lining up to get with him. He doesn't have to resort to other students.' But it's a start Harry, it's a start. But I want you to know," continued Lockhart taking Harry's hands in his. "If you ever, EVER, have an urge like that again, just come to me and we'll sort it out." He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off. Harry stood stunned for a few seconds, and then remembering he was supposed to be in the greenhouse, he opened the door and slid inside
Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the centre of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different coloured earmuffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione (Ron giving him a look of 'What was that all about?' and Harry answering with a weak smile and a 'tell you later') she said, "Today we'll be repotting Mandrakes. These unique plants are used as an essential part of powerful restorative antidotes that are used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed, to their original state. But they are also potentially dangerous. They will try and seduce anyone who hears their voice and hearing too much will in fact result in death. Now the Mandrakes we have here are still very young so their voices can't kill you yet. However they will knock you out for several hours, so make sure your earmuffs are securely in place. Okay, first I will give a demonstration of what you have to do, and then you can divide into groups and do the rest. Clear? Ok everyone take a pair of earmuffs." Professor Sprout rolled up her sleeves and walked over to a row of deep trays each filled with a hundred or so tufty little plants, all purplish in colour. She grasped the nearest tuft and pulled hard.
Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear. Instead of roots, a small muddy and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of its head. It had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of its lungs.
Professor Sprout had to shout at the top of her lungs so the second years could hear her, "Now, you take one of these handy little devices out of the packet…" she reached for a little blue packet from a box on the table. "Now, be careful not to rip it or get any dirt in it. We don't want any infections in these little guys."
Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances.
"So firstly you have to check whether you have a male or female Mandrake. You can tell the males by this characteristic here," she pointed to a rather small nobbly thing. "This is called a penis. You may have to look hard because some aren't very big in the pants if you know what I mean. So if it's a male, you take this," she picked up the round rubber device she had unwrapped earlier, "and you place it on the tip here…and you gently roll it until it covers. Then you place it into these larger pots with a female." She finished the demonstration and wiped her hands on her grubby apron. "And remember be very careful to ensure you wear earmuffs at all times. Their cries will not kill you yet but can severely turn you on. That could get rather messy and dangerous so I'd like to avoid that if I can. Off you go then!"
Harry, Ron and Hermione had a tray of Mandrakes to themselves. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back either.
By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching and covered in earth. He couldn't help glancing over at Ron who looked rather hot covered in dirt and sweat.
They went back up to the castle for lunch and sat down at a deserted part of the table.
"So why did Lockhart want to talk to you Harry?" asked Hermione. Harry looked around to make sure no one was listening. Then turned back to his friends. He leaned closer and opened his mouth, "Sna…ah, oh it was nothing, um just, um…just reminding me we've got our first lesson this afternoon." Harry cursed inside his head. He had almost let it slip to Hermione what had happened between him and Ron beneath the tree those few nights ago.
"Oh is that all?" said Ron, sounding relieved.
But Hermione didn't seem convinced.
"Are you sure, Harry?" she leaned closer and put her hands on Harry's. "Come on Harry, you can tell me."
Ron cleared his throat. Hermione ignored him and continued to stare into Harry's eyes, as though searching for the answer.
"No, no that's it," said Harry, shooting Ron a look of panic. Hermione wasn't taking her eyes off him.
"Why?" demanded Ron, hastily changing the subject and seeing Hermione's timetable, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?" Hermione tore her eyes from Harry's and snatched the timetable back, flushing furiously.
For the rest of lunch the three of them sat in an awkward silence until Harry became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up he saw a small mousy haired boy staring at him as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary muggle camera and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.
"Alright Harry? I'm- I'm Colin Creevy," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor too. D'you think it would be alright if- can I have a picture?" he said raising the camera hopefully.
"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.
"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin eagerly, edging forwards.
"I know all about you. Everyone's told me. So- so maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"
"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos Potter?" loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the great hall.
"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd, "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
Harry whispered, "Fuck" under his breath, he cleared his throat, blushing.
"No I'm not! Shut up Malfoy."
An odd look of disappointment crossed Draco's face. He bent down, his face level with Harry's.
"Oh," he said quietly and almost shyly he added, "Well-well if you ever do. I'll- I-, um, I…" Draco was interrupted.
"You're just jealous!" piped up Colin.
Malfoy straightened up, "What?" he demanded glaring at Colin, "Jealous? Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special myself."
Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.
"Oi! Shut the fuck up Malfoy!" shouted Ron angrily. Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.
"Looks like your boyfriend would like a signed photo, Harry," smirked Malfoy.
"Right!" yelled Ron, "You cant stop me this time Harry," he whipped out his wand.
"OI!" Percy who had been sitting nearby slammed his magazine shut and stood up. "Would you little shits SHUT UP! As school prefect I have rights to read my magazine undisturbed. So why don't you all fuck off back to class!" No one moved.
"GO ON! CLEAR OFF!"
The sound of shuffling feet filled the great hall. Harry swore he heard some one mutter about 'Those bloody Weasley's' and 'What the fuck's up with that family eh?' As the crowd thinned Harry glanced around hoping to find Malfoy, he wanted to ask him what he had meant. But he was gone. He sighed.
Five minutes later they had reached Lockhart's classroom. They took their seats. Lockhart entered the room and cleared his throat loudly silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels With Trolls and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.
"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award- but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
He waited for them to laugh, a few people smiled weakly.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books- well done. And so, to business… Now be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizard-kind! You may find yourself facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."
Lockhart walked over to a cage covered in blue material.
"I must ask you not to scream," he said in a low voice, "It might arouse them." As the whole class held their breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.
"Yes," he said dramatically, "Freshly caught Horny Pixies." The pixies were electric blue and about 8 inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing.
"Right then," Lockhart said loudly "Let's see what you make of them!" and he opened the cage.
The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. They started grabbing people's clothes and ripping them off. Laughing manically, two of them seized Neville by the collar and ripped his shirt off. He screamed and wrapped his arms around himself to cover the horrible sight of man boobs. Other pixies were flying crazily around the room ripping off everyone's clothes. There were cloaks, robes, pants, jumpers, bras, g-
strings and boxers flying everywhere. Students were running around fighting off the pixies with anything they had.
Harry and Hermione were cowering in the corner. Harry's pants had already been removed and Hermione was completely topless. A pixie had landed on Hermione's head and Harry picked up a large heavy book and was about to smack it off when he was distracted, three pixies were removing Draco Malfoy's shirt. Harry stared wide-eyed. However he continued to swing the book towards Hermione's head. Due to not looking where he was swinging Harry misjudged the position of the pixie. It resulted in a large crack and squeal of pain. Harry quickly looked back at Hermione. She was lying on the floor; blood was pissing from her eye socket. There was a huge gash in the side of her head.
"Harry!" she cried in agony. Harry gasped at the realisation of what he had done. He dropped to the floor. "Hermione! I'm terribly sorry!" She was clutching at the gash hysterically crying. Ron moved over to them and started laughing.
"Suck on that BITCH! I see I'm not the only one getting hurt around here…" he cast an evil glance at Malfoy and then caught eye contact with Harry. It was too awkward so Harry looked back towards Malfoy.
He had no shirt on. His body was glistening with sweat. His face was pale with alarm but he still had that magnificent smile on his face. He had a six pack and huge biceps. As he moved to dodge the pixies the muscles tensed and moved. Harry felt guilty for looking at Malfoy that way. He turned back to Ron who was still laughing hysterically at Hermione.
All of a sudden two pixies came and dacked Ron. He quickly realised and turned bright red. Harry saw everything.
"Fuck! Blasted Pixies!" Ron yelled struggling to pull his pants back up.
Harry conveniently walked away. He looked up towards Lockhart. He was looking around the room, a manic smile on his face. He was talking to himself. He seemed to be enjoying this.
The bell rang and there was a mad rush for the door. People were hastily putting their clothes back on. In the relative calm that followed Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry and Ron helping Hermione out the door, and said, "Well, I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.
Hermione was still bleeding heavily and needed to be urgently taken to the hospital wing. Harry and Ron decided to disobey Lockhart's orders and helped Hermione to the hospital wing for treatment.
A/N: There you have it dear readers, review to ease your curiosity for more...
