A/N: Hello everyone! It's great to be back! I just finished the two-week final exam period at school. Hooray! The bad news, of course, is that I'm taking summer classes that start on Monday :(

But anyway, here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it! And if you don't, just keep in mind that I had to get a couple of my wisdom teeth removed yesterday, and my jaw is really sore, so please be gentle in your reviews :)

"What voice?" Snape asked sharply, just moments after the words had left Harry's mouth. The boy noticeably flinched at the harsh tone, but Snape refused to back down, the glare on his face seeming to grow more dangerous by the second.

"Explain yourself, Mr. Potter," the man hissed then. "Are you saying that you heard the voice of the attacker?"

Harry instinctively reached for the picture in his pocket as he struggled to find words. "I-I don't know, sir," he finally answered quietly. "Maybe."

"Well, what exactly did you hear?" Snape prompted impatiently. Honestly, it was like pulling teeth trying to get anything out of this child.

Harry bit his lip, trying to decide the best way to answer that question that didn't make him sound like a complete lunatic.

"Potter…" Snape growled warningly.

"It – wanted to kill someone," Harry finally answered, realizing that there was just no other way to say it.

There was complete silence in the office then. And Harry quickly noted that it was nearly impossible to tell what the professor could be thinking as, apart from a small crease in his forehead, the man's face remained completely blank.

"It just kept saying that it wanted to rip someone apart and kill them," Harry continued nervously, when the silence had stretched on for far too long. "I didn't want anyone to get hurt so I—"

"Followed it," Snape finished the sentence for him. And his voice sounded so dangerous that a chill went straight down Harry's spine.

"Yes, sir," Harry eventually managed to answer.

The potions master slammed a hand down on the desk then, eyes flashing in anger.

"Do you have any idea the amount of danger you placed yourself in, Potter?" the man growled.

Harry shrank back against the chair. "I'm sorry," he eventually managed to whisper.

"Not nearly as sorry as you're going to be," Snape promised ominously. "You and your little friends will be punished severely for such reckless behavior and—"

"Don't punish Ron and Hermione!" Harry quickly interrupted. "They were just following me! They didn't even hear the voice!"

There was no mistaking the sudden look of concern that flashed across the man's face then. "What do you mean they didn't hear the voice? Were they not with you when you heard it?"

Harry bit his lip, fairly certain that this was going to be the part of the conversation where Snape would declare he needed to be placed in the nearest mental institution immediately.

"I asked them if they could hear it," Harry continued then, after taking another breath. "But they couldn't. None of the ghosts seemed to hear it, either. It was just me."

The silence stretched on for a full minute then. And the potions master no longer attempted to hide his concern. "You heard this voice down in the dungeons, and it led you to the first-floor corridor?"

Harry just nodded. "It seemed to be coming from the walls, sir."

The potions master considered him carefully for a moment before asking his next question. "Are you sure it was not in your head?"

Harry felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The professor clearly thought he was insane. Why else would he ask such a question?

The boy just shook his head, still clutching at the photograph in his pocket.

"Please, sir. I'm not crazy," he replied quietly.

"I don't believe I ever said you were, Mr. Potter," Snape answered, suddenly walking around his desk and heading towards the office door.

Harry just watched him warily, uncertain what to expect next.

"Come along, Mr. Potter," the man said brusquely.

But Harry didn't move from his chair.

"I am not a patient man, Mr. Potter," Snape said a moment later, throwing the door open, and glaring at Harry expectantly.

Very slowly then, Harry stood from his seat and moved towards the professor.

"Where are we going, sir?"

"We must inform the headmaster immediately."

Harry lagged several feet behind the potions master for the entire walk up to the headmaster's office, but the man refused to slow down. His long strides seemed to accompany a growing sense of urgency, and Harry only grew more and more anxious with every passing moment.

Maybe he shouldn't have told Snape about the voice, he couldn't help but to think. Because now the professor was taking him to the headmaster. And who knew what Dumbledore would do? Harry hated the uncertainty of it all. There was absolutely nothing worse than uncertainty.

"This is no time to be taking a leisurely stroll, Mr. Potter," Snape's voice travelled down the corridor, as he eventually came to a stop in front of a large stone gargoyle. "Do try to keep up."

"Yes, sir," Harry murmured, quickening his pace down the last stretch of the hallway, and finally coming up next to Snape.

The man glared down at him disapprovingly for a moment, before turning back to the gargoyle. "Sherbet lemon," he practically spat out at the stone creature.

And before Harry had any time to react, the gargoyle came to life and stepped aside, revealing a spiral staircase that began to move upwards as Snape guided Harry onto the steps.

Despite his absolute terror, Harry couldn't help but to be completely awestruck by the headmaster's office.

The entire place was cluttered with all manner of strange objects and instruments, and the young Gryffindor soon found himself wondering if Professor Dumbledore actually used all of these trinkets, or if he simply liked to collect them, the way Aunt Petunia did with fine china.

A shiny silvery orb that was hovering in midair suddenly floated closer to Harry, and the boy reached out to touch it.

"Do not touch what isn't yours, Mr. Potter," Snape suddenly scolded harshly, causing Harry to snatch his hand back.

"Sorry, sir," Harry answered, as the man steered him towards the large desk in the center of the room.

And there, sitting at that desk, was Albus Dumbledore, who,for some reason, seemed to have a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he watched the pair before him.

"Ah, good morning, Severus. And Harry," the old man nodded to each of them in turn. "And what can I do for you gentlemen on this fine morning?"

"Potter has more information to reveal regarding the attack last night," Snape answered immediately, getting right to the point.

"Oh?" the headmaster asked, turning his gaze to the young boy. "Have you remembered something else, Harry?"

Snape immediately scoffed. "Remembered? The boy deliberately withheld crucial information!"

"I'm sorry," Harry said again, not really sure if he was directing the words at Snape or at the headmaster.

It was quiet for a few seconds, as Dumbledore's eyes penetrated the young Gryffindor's. And for one terrifying moment, Harry thought that Dumbledore could see everything with those eyes. All of his thoughts. All of his secrets.

And then the man spoke. "I would very much like to hear this new information, Harry. Would you mind explaining it to me?"

Harry quickly looked up at Snape, who was currently glaring down at him with raised eyebrows, and sighed.

"Yes, sir," he answered quietly, before looking back at Dumbledore and launching into his tale about the voice. He spoke slowly, stumbling over his words a few times, but neither adult interrupted him.

"You alone could hear this voice?" the headmaster asked with a frown, when Harry had finished speaking. "You're absolutely sure of that?"

Harry hesitated. "Yes, sir," he eventually answered.

"Have you ever heard this voice before?"

Harry immediately began twisting his hands in anxiety, before finally nodding his head in affirmation. "Yes, sir."

"What?" Snape hissed, slamming a hand down for the second time that day, but on Dumbledore's desk this time. "You've been concealing the fact that you've been hearing a murderous voice on a regular basis?"

"Only a couple times," Harry defended himself weakly.

"That does not make this any better, Potter!" Snape was practically shouting now. Though Harry couldn't help but feel that there was something more to Snape's anger. The man almost sounded…concerned. Even worried.

"Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, before the two of them locked gazes.

It was quiet for a while then, as the men seemed to be having a silent conversation between them. Harry shifted uncomfortably where he stood, wishing that one of them would just say something, already.

"Harry, would you like to meet my familiar, Fawkes?" Dumbledore suddenly asked, turning to the boy and nodding his head towards the corner of the office behind him.

Harry scrunched his eyebrows up in confusion at the unexpected question. But then he turned towards the indicated corner, and his mouth fell open at the beautiful, majestic bird standing on a golden perch in the corner and staring back at him intently. The boy couldn't believe he had missed the creature before. But then, he had been far too nervous to really look around the office properly.

"Wow," Harry said, immediately moving towards the bird.

"Fawkes is a phoenix," Dumbledore said, smiling softly at Harry's obvious wonderment. "Immensely strong and powerful creatures. Would you like to talk to him a moment while I speak with Severus?"

Harry frowned. He didn't like the idea of being left out of this conversation. The two men were obviously going to be talking about him.

But then, he knew that neither of them was likely to take "no" for an answer.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, suppressing a sigh as he moved closer to the phoenix, who trilled in greeting as Harry moved nearer.

And a moment later, Snape put up a silencing charm around himself and Dumbledore.

"You believe that Voldemort is somehow attempting to manipulate Harry's mind?" Dumbledore asked aloud then, having already read the thoughts Severus had conveyed to him a moment before.

"How else do you explain this voice?" Snape asked. "You've been worried about this possibility all along, headmaster. It would appear that your fears were not unfounded."

"But Voldemort is, as far as we know, still severely weakened—"

"It makes no difference. I learned long ago to never underestimate the Dark Lord's power."

"As did I, Severus," Dumbledore sighed, before moving to run a hand down his face and through his beard. "But Harry…he's just so young…"

"Yes. Young and vulnerable," Snape answered. "The perfect target."

"But none of this really explains the events of last night," Dumbledore pointed out. "What purpose would Voldemort have for making Harry discover Mrs. Norris? And what of the Chamber of Secrets?"

"I really couldn't say, headmaster. But I think it is safe to assume that the Dark Lord is involved in this somehow. He likely has another accomplice lurking in the castle. Just like Quirrell. Or he is simply taking the time to play with Potter while he works to regain his strength, and using the current plight of the school to do so."

Dumbledore nodded, a look of determination suddenly crossing his features as he glanced over to where Fawkes had just landed gracefully on Harry's outstretched arm.

"You must teach him, Severus. Teach him to close his mind."

"What?" Severus hissed, placing both of his hands down on the surface in front of him and leaning forward across the desk. "You want me to teach occlumency… to a twelve-year old?"

"Yes, Severus. If your suspicions are correct, then Harry is, as you say, very vulnerable at the moment. He will need someone to teach him."

"Then you can—"

"Someone he trusts," Dumbledore interrupted. "Wholly and completely. At his age, that will be absolutely essential to success."

"I really don't think—" Snape began, but he was soon interrupted by a concerned voice behind him.

"Professor Dumbledore, your phoenix seems really sad," Harry said, walking towards the man's desk, the bird nestled securely in his arms.

Snape cancelled the silencing spell as both men looked on in surprise. Fawkes was not really known for being the cuddly type. But there he was, sitting calmly in Harry's arms, his head resting against the boy's chest.

Sweet Merlin, Snape thought to himself. The boy had a greater affinity for animals than Hagrid. First that mangy cat of Filch's. And now this?

"He's crying, sir," Harry continued, walking around the headmaster's desk to stand next to the man's chair so he could more easily see the tears spilling slowly but steadily from Fawkes' eyes and onto Harry's robes.

Dumbledore smiled sadly at Harry. "Phoenix tears have healing powers, Harry. They can heal just about any wound."

Harry looked puzzled. "Really?"

"Well, most physical wounds," the headmaster amended. "Though Merlin knows that bird has tried to heal far more than that."

Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a look then, as Harry began shaking his head. "But I'm not hurt, sir."

"Hmm…well then perhaps he has simply detected a hint of nervousness and anxiety within you. Would that make sense?"

Harry's cheeks heated up in embarrassment. "Yes, sir. I suppose so."

"Potter, put the bird down and wait for me outside," Snape said then.

"But—" Harry began. What about the voice? What about the mental institution?

"Now," the man replied more forcefully, and Harry knew better than to disobey. He murmured a soft "goodbye" to Fawkes, before carefully depositing the bird on the desk near the headmaster and walking slowly towards the door. The phoenix squawked a farewell to him then, as the last of his tears dried from his eyes.

Harry glanced back curiously at the two professors as he reached the office entrance. But a moment later, he passed over the threshold and closed the door behind him.

Snape almost immediately recast the silencing charm.

"Do you think it detected something inside him? A sinister presence, perhaps?" the potions master asked, eying the phoenix with concern.

Dumbledore didn't answer right away. He, too, was watching Fawkes carefully, and it was impossible for Severus to identify the strange look in the older man's eyes.

"It would appear so," the headmaster finally answered. And then, "He needs a teacher, Severus."

"And I suppose I have no real choice in the matter?" Snape asked, in a resigned voice, still staring intently at Fawkes.

"Of course you have a choice, Severus. Harry will need you to be fully committed to his success, or there will be no point in wasting time on these lessons."

Severus let out a sigh then, as he finally moved his gaze away from the phoenix to focus on Dumbledore.

"Fine," he muttered at last.

So much for planning on pushing the brat away.

A/N: So what did you think? I'm always happy to hear from you!

Thanks for reading!

-Ailee17