A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the long delay between chapters, guys. I've been pretty busy lately, and so this chapter took a terribly long time to write. Again, my deepest, sincerest apologies.

Also, thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and words of encouragement. You're all the best :)

And finally, I know I said this was going to be the Halloween chapter, but I ended up cutting it in half so that I could get something posted after such a long wait. Enjoy!

It was dark.

Harry looked around frantically for any kind of light source, but it was impossible to see anything in the tiny space that he was trapped in.

There was no way out.

On all sides, Harry felt nothing but walls. Everywhere his hands touched, he could feel the panels of his enclosure closing in on him. He tried to take a deep breath to calm down, but no air was finding its way into his lungs.

And the walls just kept pushing in. His hands scrabbled uselessly against them as he tried to find an exit. There had to be a door somewhere.

He was in his cupboard, his mind kept telling him. The cupboard under the stairs. He just needed to find the door, and he could get out.

But of course, the Dursleys had probably locked the door. His aunt and uncle nearly always locked the door.

"Let me out!" Harry yelled in terror, banging against the walls in the hopes that someone would hear. "Please!" he begged then, as his tiny prison grew smaller and smaller with each passing second. "Please!"

And then suddenly Harry was falling. It was like the floor had dropped out from under him, and he was just falling down… down… down… deep into the darkness.

Until there was a blinding green light that filled up the entirety of Harry's vision. And a scream. A terrible, bone-chilling scream that was all too familiar.

"Mum!" Harry called out desperately, just as his eyes flew open and his nightmare came to an end.

"Harry?" Ron spoke cautiously, leaning over the side of his friend's bed, his face full of concern.

Harry just let out a groan, and raised a hand to his sweaty forehead, echoes of his mother's screams still bouncing around inside his mind.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron pressed. "I think you were having a nightmare."

At those words, the screams began to fade away and, suddenly becoming more aware of his surroundings, Harry pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around.

He and Ron were alone in the Gryffindor dormitory.

"What time is it?" he asked, closing his eyes against the bright light streaming in through the nearby window.

"It's time for breakfast," Ron answered, still sounding worried. "We should probably hurry."

Harry's stomach churned at the thought of food. He sighed then, and opened his eyes.

"You go on, Ron. I'm really not very hungry."

Ron immediately raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you in class, okay?"

Ron frowned. "Are you feeling—?"

"I feel fine, Ron," Harry interrupted quickly. "I'm just a little tired. It's like you said. I had a little nightmare."

"It didn't seem like a little nightmare, Harry. You were tossing and turning and yelling in your sleep."

The nausea in Harry's stomach increased. "I was yelling?" he asked nervously. "What did I say?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't think you were saying anything."

Harry felt somewhat relieved at that news. It would have been rather embarrassing to find out that the entire dormitory had heard him calling out for his dead mother while he slept.

Harry nodded his satisfaction to that answer and began working to extract himself from the bedsheets he was tangled in.

"I'll just jump in the shower then," he said. "You go down to breakfast."

Ron watched as his friend finally managed to throw his legs over the side of the bed and stand up.

"Alright," he said at last, "I'll see you in class."

A few moments later, the dormitory door clicked shut, and Harry was alone. He immediately went to the trunk at the foot of his bed and opened the lid, revealing the messy contents within.

Feeling along the bottom of the trunk, he quickly pulled out the large white envelope that Snape had given him and reached inside.

He selected a few pictures of his mother at random and, with a sigh, sat down on the floor beside his open trunk. He just stared at the photographs longingly then, until it was time to get ready for class.

It quickly became apparent to Harry that, apart from himself, there wasn't a single student at Hogwarts who wasn't excited for Halloween the following day. Everywhere he went, it seemed that all anyone wanted to talk about was the big Halloween feast and all of the treats it promised.

"I heard that most of the sweets are enormous!" a first year Hufflepuff was saying to his companion as Harry passed them in the hall on the way to Defense Against the Dark Arts class that afternoon. "Lollipops as big as your head!"

"Well, I heard that there isn't even a main course!" the other Hufflepuff replied enthusiastically. "Everyone just skips right to dessert!"

"And the decorations—"

Harry missed the rest of the conversation as the first years rounded the corner behind him and soon were out of earshot.

But soon another voice was filling Harry's ear. And this one was even less welcome than the others had been.

"Harry, Harry, Harry!" came the far too jovial voice of Gilderoy Lockhart.

And a second later, Harry was wincing as the professor threw an arm around his shoulder and swept him along the corridor towards the Defense classroom.

"Oh, Harry. I am starting to get the distinct feeling that you're trying to avoid me," Lockhart said chidingly, the smile never leaving his face.

"Um…"

"Now, at this point, I think we just need to make an appointment. What would you say to tea in my office sometime next week?"

"I don't think—"

"Nonsense, Harry. It's no trouble at all."

"But I—"

"How does Monday evening at 7 o'clock sound? You just bring your textbooks with you to my office and we'll have a nice little chat while I sign them for you!"

By this point, the pair had reached the Defense classroom, and Harry's face turned a bright red when he realized just how many other waiting second years had heard that last statement. He quickly pulled away from Lockhart's grasp then, and darted away to stand with the other Gryffindors while the man went to open the door.

"He just won't give up, will he?" Ron whispered, glaring at the back of the professor's head.

Harry shook his head, still slightly confused by the whole exchange. "I don't trust him."

"Oh, you're being ridiculous," Hermione hissed. "You would have a wonderful time, Harry."

"He's being ridiculous?" Ron countered. "You're the one who refuses to see what's right in front of you, Hermione! The guy is insane!"

As usual, Hermione ignored this statement and decided to change the subject as the students began filtering into the classroom.

"So what should we wear to this deathday party, Harry? It isn't too formal an affair, is it?"

"Well, I'm certainly not dressing up to go celebrate some ghost's death!" Ron said bitterly. "I really don't see why we have to go at all. We'll miss the feast!"

"Neither one of you have to come," Harry answered. "I just promised Nick I would go as a favor. It's not a big deal. And I won't be dressing up for it."

"I think it'll be fascinating," Hermione said excitedly, as the three of them slid into their seats near the back of the class. "Of course I'll come with you, Harry!"

Ron grumbled something unintelligible then, just as Gilderoy Lockhart moved to the front of the classroom to begin the lesson.

Nearly everyone in the room cringed almost as soon as the man raised his wand. Since the incident with the Cornish Pixies, it wasn't very often that the professor attempted any magic of his own. And it was always terrifying when he did.

"I thought I would begin today's class with a bit of a demonstration," the man announced cheerfully, completely oblivious to the discomfort of the students before him.

Harry gripped the edge of his desk tightly, preparing for the very real possibility that he may need to dive underneath it for cover in the next minute or so.

"Now, I'm sure you are all looking forward to the Halloween feast tomorrow," Lockhart said, swishing his wand through the air, causing the students in the front row to lean back in their seats nervously. "And nothing can be quite so impressive as all of the wonderful decorations your professors work so hard to provide for the occasion!"

Somehow, Harry didn't like where this was going.

"For instance, how do we get all of those wonderful live bats to fly around up there on the ceiling of the Great Hall?"

And then, before anyone had the chance to react, the man flicked his wand sharply and spoke a few words that sounded like complete gibberish to Harry.

There was a loud crack then, followed by a puff of smoke. Nearly the entire class was ready to bolt for the classroom door.

And then the fumes dispersed, and there, hovering right next to Lockhart's head, were four very real-looking bats.

Several mouths dropped open. Had Lockhart actually done something right?

But almost as soon as that thought passed through Harry's head, chaos ensued.

Without warning, the bats flew straight towards the Slytherin side of the room and swooped down on Millicent Bulstrode's head.

Nearly every female in the room began screaming, though no one was as loud as Millicent. The girl flew from her seat and ran towards the classroom door, her arms thrown over her head as two of the bats continued to follow her.

"Too bad it couldn't have been Pansy, eh?" Ron mumbled in Harry's ear, just as Millicent left the room and the remaining two bats began charging the other students.

It was complete pandemonium then. Books and parchment flew everywhere as students ran and dove out of the way as the creatures zoomed around the room.

Parvati Patil shrieked as one of them flew towards her and promptly threw her copy of Voyages with Vampires in its direction. The book sailed through the air, missing the bat by several inches, and landed with a loud thud at Gilderoy Lockhart's feet.

"Professor, do something!" Pansy cried, from where she had taken up refuge under her desk.

Harry had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes then. Lockhart was standing there, completely in shock, just like he had with the Cornish Pixies.

"Hermione?" he asked, ducking down as a bat passed near his head. Around him, students were running and cowering, trying to get away from the bats. "Do you think you can stop them?"

Turning to his friend, Harry could see the conflicted expression on Hermione's face as she looked towards Lockhart.

"Hermione? Come on. Just like the pixies. Stun them!"

Hermione turned towards Harry then. She finally nodded and raised her wand.

But before she could utter the incantation, the two remaining bats in the room quite suddenly froze in midair, and the room fell into immediate silence.

Turning his head, Harry saw the tall, dark figure standing in the doorway, wand raised.

And in that moment, he almost felt sorry for Lockhart.

Almost.

Snape gave another quick flick of his wand, and the bats completely vanished from the room. He lowered his wand to his side then, and simply glared menacingly towards the front of the class, where Lockhart still stood, only just now beginning to recover from his shocked state.

"Well done, Severus," the man eventually managed, as he attempted to smooth out a wrinkle in his robes. "I of course had everything under control. I was just about to end our little demonstration for the day."

Snape did not answer, but just continued to stare at the Defense professor in stony silence.

"What brings you to our class then, Severus?" Lockhart asked. If the man was nervous at all, he was doing a remarkable job at hiding it, and all eyes in the room turned towards Snape, waiting for a response.

"I was on my way to the teacher's lounge," Snape finally spoke, his voice dripping with venom. "when I ran into Miss Bulstrode, being chased along the corridor by two bats."

"Ah, yes. Well, I was just about to go after—"

"Of course you were," Snape interrupted, scanning the mess of paper, books, and splattered ink on the floor, as well as the disheveled appearances of many of the students. "How silly of me not to realize that you would have everything…under control."

"Quite so, Severus," Lockhart agreed, plastering his signature smile back on his face. "Though your assistance was of course, welcome."

The sneer on the potions master face then was absolutely terrifying. "I assume you were also just preparing to dismiss the class?"

"Dismiss the class?" Lockhart repeated, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"Yes," Snape practically snarled. "Straight to the hospital wing to be examined by Madam Pomfrey. Those creatures were likely diseased."

"Uh, right," Lockhart answered, his smile momentarily slipping. "Yes. Class is dismissed. Go straight to the hospital wing, children."

Slowly then, everyone in the class began to stand up and gather their belongings, whispers rippling throughout the room as they gradually filtered out the door.

Harry followed the crowd with Ron and Hermione, locking gazes with Snape for just the barest of moments as he left.

"I sure hope you're finished defending him," Ron said to Hermione as soon as they were in the corridor. "You can't possibly still think—"

"It just doesn't make sense," Hermione interrupted, frowning. "All of his books, everything he's done and accomplished—"

"You mean like managing to set some bats on a bunch of second years? Yeah, that was an accomplishment for sure. Just like the pixies," Ron practically spat out.

"Well, at least Snape came along," Harry put in, hoping to put a stop to the bickering before it really had a chance to get started.

"Yeah," Seamus Finnegan said, turning around when he heard Harry's statement. "He's a bat himself, after all. He's probably the only one who could stop them."

Ron laughed loudly at that, as did Dean Thomas and several of the other Gryffindors they were walking with as they continued in the direction of the hospital wing.

But Harry just frowned. "You shouldn't call him that, Ron," he said quietly, so no one else would hear.

Ron raised his eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Snape's a professor, and—"

Ron suddenly rounded on Hermione. "What have you done to him? He's even starting to talk like you now."

"This has nothing to do with Hermione," Harry responded, voice still low. "I just think we shouldn't call Snape a bat."

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for a complete and total lack of respect for your instructors."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and most of the second-year Gryffindors stopped and turned around when they heard the potions master's voice.

"Sir?" Harry asked, looking up at the man, confused.

"You heard me, Mr. Potter," Snape answered curtly, looking down at the young boy with disdain. In the next moment then, he abruptly turned on his heel and stalked away.

Ron turned to Harry then, a meaningful look now on his face. "Do you still think he's not a dungeon bat?"

Harry didn't answer, too shocked at the moment to give any sort of reaction. A few seconds passed. And then Harry continued down the hall in silence, ignoring the stares of the rest of his classmates as he went.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look.

"Don't worry about losing those points, Harry," Ron said, hurrying to catch up to his friend. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's only Snape, after all."

But, much to the confusion of his two best friends, Harry still did not respond.

The trip to the hospital wing was brief and largely uneventful for the second year Defense class. Thankfully, nobody had been bitten or even scratched by Lockhart's conjured bats. Madam Pomfrey was treating Millicent Bulstrode for mild shock and emotional distress. But physically, the girl was fine, and was expected to make a full recovery.

Of course, by dinnertime the entire school was talking about the "demon mutant killer bats" that Professor Lockhart had set on the second years that day. And many students seemed to be hoping for a repeat performance the following night at the Halloween feast.

Harry largely managed to block out most of the ridiculous and nonsensical chatter, however, as he absently pushed the food around on his plate with a fork. He glanced up at the head table from time to time, staring in complete puzzlement at his potions professor, whose signature scowl was fixed in place that night. The man was clearly in a foul mood.

Harry knew he shouldn't be bothered by the fact that Snape had taken points. Snape was always taking points from him, after all.

But he just couldn't help it. He must have done something to make the man angry. He just had no idea what. Harry knew he hadn't been disrespectful, as Snape had claimed. He had only been trying to defend the professor!

So it must have been something else.

He just wished that he knew what it was.

A/N: Let me know what you think!

Thanks for reading!

-Ailee17