Harry remained feeling unwell for the rest of that week, but managed to keep all of his friends in the dark but one. The study group met again in the abandoned girl's bathroom Harry was surprised to find that the Slytherins looked as deprived of sleep as he was.
"Why do you lot look like you've been dragged through the Forbidden Forest?" Ron was munching on a pumpkin pasty he'd filched from lunch. The sight of it seemed to make Blaise waver on his feet.
"There may or may not be a ghost bothering us in our sleep," Pansy said, her face buried in her bag as a makeshift pillow.
"Is it the Bloody Baron?" Hermione asked, looking up from a large and suspiciously marked book.
"No, it's not him," Malfoy said with an annoyed look on his face, "or I'd have exorcised him into the next century. We're not sure what the thing is, but everyone's been having these weird nightmares with this green light and a lot of hissing. Last night, a bunch of first years said they ran into a green thing hissing the same thing at them over and over again."
"I bet it has something to do with the chamber," Hermione mumbled, almost to herself. It was then that she proposed the absolutely bonkers idea to infiltrate the Slytherin dorm with polyjuice potion of all things.
"After all, it would make sense that Slytherin built the entrance to his chamber in the Slytherin dorm room," she said as they packed their things.
"Face it, 'mione, you just want to take a peek at what our rooms look like," Pansy shot back sheepishly. Draco and Harry were the last two in the room, Draco having lagged behind his friends. Harry struggled to stand without his world spinning and shrugged on his bag.
"That Granger is bonkers if she thinks she can pull off the polyjuice potion and impersonate one of us. I might suggest Crabbe or Goyle. They don't speak very often. Might be a nice change for her." Draco trailed off and stopped laughing when he saw that Harry wasn't listening.
"Are you alright, mate? You look worse than I do." Draco threw an arm around Harry's shoulders and the sudden weight caused Harry to topple over. Draco yelped and caught his friend right before he fell, cursing frantically all the way. Harry recovered quickly with one hand clutching his bag and the other clutching Draco's elbow.
"Ugh, sorry, mate," he said, feigning a yawn. Draco's hands stayed around Harry's shoulders as if ready to catch him again.
"What was that? Do we need to go to the hospital wing? You look terrible. Are you sick?" Draco Malfoy was yammering and it was almost funny except that it wasn't and Draco was dead serious. Harry tensed and looked away from Draco's worried expression.
"I'm okay, Draco, honestly," he ground out through a weak chuckle, "Just didn't sleep very well and stood up too quickly, is all." Draco put his hands on his hips and examined Harry with an annoyed tilt of the head.
"Think you're being funny, Potter? You dropped like a dead weight into my arms and I'm supposed to believe that you just 'stood up too quickly'?" Harry tried to shrug him off with as much lightheartedness as he could muster, but Draco's wide eyes caught his and Harry was staggered by the waves of fear rolling off of his mind.
"You're really shaken up about this, aren't you?" Harry's voice came in little more than a whisper.
"Bloody Hell, Harry, who wouldn't be?" Draco was still looking him up and down and Harry noticed his pale fingers were trembling. Harry hesitantly grasped Draco's forearm to steady him.
"I'm sorry, Draco."
"Harry, you don't have to apologize for anything. I just want you to be straight with me, especially if you're unwell," Draco said, more urgently, almost pleadingly "You're like my brother, Harry. You can trust me."
Harry let go of his hold on Draco to shrug his bag on and ruffled his hair, unsure of what to say. Warmth bloomed in Harry's chest and he wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to hide away or apologize again.
"I have a headache," he began, "a bad one."
"What kind of headache?" Draco looked confused, but maintained an expectant silence.
"Er a magical kind? I think?" Harry rubbed his temples, "I wasn't lying to you about not getting enough sleep. I haven't slept in days. It's just...this hissing that keeps finding me at night and it feels like it's cutting through my head." It killed him to omit the thing he found in Ginny's mind, but whatever that thing was, he didn't want it to find Draco.
"So you've had the same problems as the rest of us? We couldn't sleep all of last night because of that weird hissing noise. Why can't the others in Gryffindor tower hear it?"
"Parseltongue, remember? It's not as loud up there as it is in the dungeons, but I think I'm just more sensitive to hissing."
"Okay, fine, but do you know what it's saying?"
Harry hesitated, hating himself more the more he lied, but said, "No, it's nonsense. It's like a crazy person talking. The words don't make any sense." He didn't have the heart to tell him the murderous mumblings that plagued him at night.
"Whatever it is," Draco continued after a tense pause, "it's in the Slytherin common room now."
"As soon as Hermione's polyjuice potion is finished, we'll figure this out, alright?" Harry patted a tired Draco on the back as he groaned.
"What am I supposed to do then? All of us are worn out. Polyjuice will take a month to finish and that's after Granger gets her hands on the ingredients." Draco seemed to be counting something on the far wall of the bathroom, possibly the hours of sleep he could live on over a month. Harry's eyebrow shot up and he stalked out of the room, Draco in tow.
"Where are you going?"
"Idea," Harry called over his shoulder. Firstly, he set off to the owlry to scribble a message, which he then tied to Hedwig's feet before sending her off. A bit later in the afternoon, after classes were finished, Harry rounded up all of his friends from Slytherin house by sending Dobby to Draco with a note.
"Why did you want me to bring my pillow?" Draco stepped out from the dungeons with his silk lined down pillow in hand. Behind him, Harry was surprised to see a gaggle of heads peeking over Draco's shoulders, including Crabbe and Goyle.
"I also said bring all of your mates, not your whole house," Harry said, scratching his head. Draco crossed his arms over his pillow, looking smug.
"My mates are my house, Harry. We take care of our own."
"Yeah," Blaise interjected, shoving Goyle out of the way, "and since you're technically a Malfoy now, some of us have decided to trust your word."
"You lot have no qualms accepting help from a Gryffindor?" Harry was still expecting this to be an ambush of some sort. Draco watched his frightened expression with smug glee.
"Stop your yammering and tell us what your plans are, Potter," Pansy said, shoving Crabbe over to stand next to Blaise. "Your letter mentioned sleep and I want it. Now."
Harry threw his hands up in mock surrender and motioned for the group of tired, cranky Slytherins to follow him. The group ventured outside into the brisk Autumn air and Harry shepherded them into the sun dial garden.
"You want us to sleep here?" Draco shivered. "Look, Potter, I'm not opposed to sleeping on the grass, but I'm also not desperate enough to freeze to death." It was Harry's turn to grin smugly at the group. Pulling out his wand, he anchored a few warming charms to the stone columns and transfigured to grass floor into a soft, cushy material like a sofa cushion.
"Our problems had to do with something that was living in the walls, correct? No walls, no problem." Harry threw his bag onto the squishy floor and settled down for a nap. Draco settled down next to him and soon, the small clearing was filled with Slytherins looking forward to rest.
"Psst, Draco," Harry whispered as the clearing filled with soft snores.
"What, Harry? I'm trying to sleep." Harry drew Ladon from his robes and settled the little coiled up snake on Draco's chest.
"Ladon says you're warm and he's going to use you to sunbathe."
"Bloody spoiled, you are," Draco replied, looking down cross-eyed at Ladon. The tiny snake only flicked his tongue out to rasp over the tip of Draco's nose. Harry settled back down and was about to drift off himself when Draco spoke again.
"I'll be honest with you, Harry," he whispered, "Not all of Slytherin is alright with you just yet. The older ones and a few others, the ones who aren't here, still don't like you very much. A lot of these kids, though, think you're one of ours."
Harry chuckled airily. "Why? Is it because I gave Lockhart a beating?" Beside him, he could feel Draco shrug.
"Well that, and you came from hard times like a lot of the kids here. They respect you for coming out of it alive."
"You mean because of the war?"
"Yeah. Dark families were in a bad way. Lots of parents sent to Azkaban when their kids were only babies and others put on trial. Lots of childhood tiffs just because their blood was dark. That's why we take care of our own."
"Well, since all of that was partly my fault, I'm glad I could at least help you guys get some sleep. Sorry about the Moldywart business."
Draco snorted and smacked Harry lightly in the chest. "You've repaid them in kind and now you have a house full of grateful people. You're better at this politics thing than you give yourself credit."
"I assure you, it was purely altruistic. Couldn't stand to see you falling asleep into your soup and ruining your hair."
"Right, yeah, you're a saint, Potter." The two of them drifted off this way until dinner and the school was treated to happier Slytherins.
Harry plopped into his seat at breakfast a few days later, wearily rubbing his eyes. Despite the sleep he'd been getting at nap time with the Slytherins, he was still recovering from the assault on his mind.
"You're late, Harry," Hermione said, shovelling eggs and fruit onto his plate, "and you look terrible, never mind that you have a quidditch game today."
"I had to run to the owlry to get this," Harry said, placing a large parcel covered by the invisibility cloak in front of Hermione with a thunk, "couldn't risk it flying in with the rest of the post. This thing looks damn suspicious."
"What is it?" Ron looked up from his food, mouth full of bacon.
"It's the potion ingredients Hermione couldn't find in the regular stocks here." At this, Hermione made a grab for the parcel and carefully opened it under the invisibility cloak's cover. Harry banished the crate it was in and Hermione was left staring in awe at the jar of boomslang skin on the table and the sack containing the bicorn horn resting in her lap.
"Where did you get these? Did you steal them?" Hermione raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"Uh I bought them?" Harry didn't get why Hermione thought everything he did had to be illegal. "In this day and age, even getting the rare stuff is pretty easy if you can pay for them." Hermione looked reluctant to take the ingredients and tapped one finger against the jar boomslang skin.
"Don't worry about it, mate," Ron said, gesturing with a corner of toast, "she's grateful. She was going to steal them from Snape, but now you've done her a favor and helped her keep her good record." Harry and Hermione stared at Ron, both wondering where that delightfully cogent remark came from. Hermione punched him and the moment was gone.
The quidditch game started like any other, with Harry spotting the obvious magical trail the snitch left behind and Malfoy looking in the wrong direction. Harry decided to let the game progress a little longer just to make things more interesting, but saw something that unsettled him. Both bludgers seemed to be far more aggressive than usual, taking out a Slytherin beater when he tried to hit one with his bat. Just to be on the safe side, however, Harry steered his broom in the snitch's direction, intent on ending the game before anybody else got hurt. Unfortunately, his decisive turn caught the attention of both Draco and the bludgers. As much as he would have liked to duke it out with Malfoy, the bludgers on their tails were too close for comfort and the sooner he caught the snitch the better. The wild chase lead Harry and Draco under the stands somehow and then Harry knew the game was off. Spinning frantically to avoid some of the rafters, Harry could only hope that Draco could hold his own.
They emerged after a few tense minutes from beneath the stadium and the worried bystanders roared. Neither of the two seekers heard the deafening cheers. Harry's fingers at last closed around the slightly warm body of the snitch and he stopped his broom, hoping that with the game over, the bludgers could stop. To his horror, the bludgers kept coming and seemed to be aiming for Draco, who had his back to them, fuming from his loss. Harry dropped the snitch and instead flicked his wand into his hand, all the while tilting his broom forward to gain top speed. Upon reaching a very confused Draco, Harry flipped them around and struck out with his wand, casting a basic, but accurate blasting curse. The spell hit one bludger, but the other remained, clipping Harry's wand arm before he could get away. He ducked when the bludger came back for him and flew away, leading it under the stands and away from the crowd. Harry pointed his wand again and cast a spell that made the bludger explode from the inside, sending pieces of shrapnel flying into the wood of the rafters.
The impact of the explosion sent Harry flying into the fabric covering the rafters. With a terrible tearing sound, the fabric gave in and Harry emerged on the Gryffindor side of the stadium, his legs and one hand clutching the fabric as it continued to rip and his wand arm dangling limply at his side, still clutching his wand. Draco, who tried to follow Harry under the stands, emerged from the gaping hole in the fabric, hauled Harry onto his own broom and quickly descended. As they touched down, the crowd quickly emptied the stands and flooded onto the pitch in a colorful mob headed by the staff and the Malfoys. Dumbledore, flanked by McGonagall and Snape, strode to Harry's side, his bright purple robes leaving tracks on the pristine grass.
"My word! Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, are you alright?" McGonagall examined the pair of them. Both boys had sunk to the ground, still clutching each other and gasping for breath. Snape and the Malfoys knelt to expect their injuries. Both of them had superficial cuts from the exploding bludger debris and whiplash from being jolted about on their brooms. Narcissa fussed with a bleeding cut on Draco's cheek while Lucius and Snape helped them to their feet. Hermione, Ron, Pansy, and Blaise made it through the crowd with Hermione cradling Harry's broom. Harry hissed when Snape made a grab for his shoulder.
"Broken," Snape said, brows furrowed, "but we won't know how bad until we get him to the hospital wing. Both of them have to go, Minerva."
McGonagall nodded and asked, "Are you two steady enough on your feet to walk?"
"Perhaps I can be of assistance?" Lockhart pushed his way through the crowd, robes gaudy enough to give Dumbledore a run for his money. "I am quite adept at magical healing. I can fix you two up right here and you won't have to wait to get to the infirmary." He started to take his wand out when Harry protested.
"You're not touching me. I would much rather Madame Pomfrey looked after me," Harry said, scrambling to get away from him. Draco followed suit and both boys hid behind Snape. Deflating a little under the scrutiny of the massive crowd behind them and the cross looking people in front of him, Lockhart stowed his wand and shuffled away.
"Madame Hooch," Dumbledore rasped, "I suspect those bludgers were tampered with?" Madame Hooch billowed into existence beside him and offered him a hunk of metal that looked as if it was hit with another cannonball of superior size and then lit on fire. Dumbledore scrutinized the iron and waved his wand while he mumbled under his breath. Harry saw the lines of his magic permeate the destroyed bludger and the iron glowed a telltale blue. Dumbledore nodded gravely and said, "It has indeed been tampered with. This is a terrible incident, a prank gone wrong, I suspect."
"A prank?" McGonagall asked incredulously, "Albus, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy almost died. Regardless of whether or not it was intended as a prank, this needs to be investigated as a serious offense."
Lucius took two graceful strides towards the headmaster, the only indication of his anger a vein popping out on his forehead. "Headmaster," he began quietly, "both my son and my precious ward were injured today under your watch. Combined with the recent events concerning the Chamber of Secrets, I am sure the board would see the need of a full Ministry investigation of the school. I think it would be most beneficial for you to take this matter more seriously and fully investigate who put that curse on that bludger. After all, it is better to know that it was a harmless prank than something more sinister."
"I assure you, the children's' safety is of the utmost importance to me," Dumbledore said placatingly, "but this incident in the events you've mentioned are under control and I am personally investigating them. There is no Chamber, as we have established time and again here, and whoever cursed this bludger will be caught in due time and punished severely."
Lucius offered a tight smile and inclined his head. "Even so, the board is watching the school closely. Threats to such an important institution cannot be taken lightly."
"As always, my staff and I will cooperate with the Ministry's investigations," Dumbledore replied graciously. "For now," he continued, "let us take these two up to the infirmary. Harry looks like he's in a great deal of pain."
"Thank you, headmaster," Harry said, still trying to hide his trembling wand arm in the folds of his robes. McGonagall shepherded the crowd away from the scene and Snape lead the injured and the Malfoys up to the infirmary.
"That game was a right mess," Ron said, looking warily at Draco's pained expression and Harry's limp arm. They trailed a little behind the adults and none of them dared to breathe a word until they'd entered the castle. "Dumbledore should have stopped the game as soon as that bludger chased you under the stands. That's never happened to anyone before and the safety charms on both the snitch and the bludgers should have prevented it. I wonder why he didn't do anything during the game?"
"Are there any rules against allowing a game to continue after the players have gone out of bounds?" Hermione's ruddy cheeks and ever frizzy hair were getting ruddier and frizzier the more she fumed.
"None," Draco replied tightly, " because the safety charms should have prevented it like Weasley said. There's nothing in the rulebook to account for something that should be impossible."
"Even so, somebody should have intervened before you two got hurt." Hermione's feet stomped in time with her outburst and on the last word, her toe accidentally stabbed Ron's.
"Ow, Hermione, you don't want three injured friends, do you?" Ron hopped on one foot and skipped a little to catch up with the group.
"You two ought to sue, you know," said Pansy, who'd taken a corner of Draco's quidditch robes between two fingers.
"My father's reported him to the Board of Governors. That's as good as leashing him," Draco said, shrugging. As they entered the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey sat them down on beds facing opposite each other. The Malfoys stayed by the entranceway to chat with Snape. Draco noticed that Harry hadn't spoken the entire walk there and shuffled to Harry's bed to peer cautiously at his friend.
"Harry, what's wrong," he asked, carefully brushing the hair aside from Harry's face. The others paused in their conversation. He found Harry's skin pale and bloodless, expression lined with pain. Harry looked tiredly at him and tried to crack a smile.
"It hurts," he said simply, gesturing to his arm.
"Harry, we talked about this. If you were hurting this bad, you were to tell me or anyone here." Draco darted to Harry's other side and gingerly peeled off Harry's bracers.
"I told you it hurt, didn't I?" Harry allowed Malfoy's ministrations, but watched warily as Hermione bounded over to look at his injury. They found his forearm bent and trembling at an unnatural angle.
"I meant before I had to ask you, prat," he said. The lack of an answering chuckle worried him more.
"Let me," Hermione said, quivering as she conjured a makeshift splint.
"Hold on, why are you still holding your wand?" Draco tried to take the wand from him, but found that Harry's fingers wouldn't uncurl from the wood and the skin of Harry's palm was encrusted with blood.
"I'm getting Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said on the verge of tears. The rest of their group crowded around Harry and each seemed ready to catch him.
"Harry, how did this even happen?" Blaise's face was pinched and his eyes were, for once, empathetic.
"I may have overdone it on a few of those blasting curses," Harry replied, wavering slightly. Madame Pomfrey bustled over and shooed all but the injured out of the infirmary. She dealt with Draco first while Snape checked on Harry.
"I know your arm is broken, but I can't set bones as well as Poppy can," Snape said, rolling up his sleeves. "I can, however, help with your hand." He applied a salve to Harry's hand and gently pried the skin off of the wood.
"What did you cast?" Snape set the wand aside and looked gravely at the severe burns on Harry's palm.
"Er bombarda?" Harry said, sheepishly.
"Right, bombarda caused your mild magical exhaustion and burned your skin into your wand from the magical recoil," Snape bit back. "What did you cast?"
"Fine, it was displodio," he said after a tense pause. At Snape's dark look, Harry said, "I wasn't lying about the bombarda. I did use it on the first bludger. I used displodio on the other one when no one was there to see."
"Regardless of whether your cover was blown, that casting was dangerous. Your body, as you can plainly see, is not ready for such taxing spells. These burns are the extent of your injuries this time, but it could be your whole body next time. You're a powerful wizard, Harry, but you're a child. Your body is in a stage of development and it won't be until you are at least fourteen or fifteen that you will be ready to take on spells like displodio. When you turn seventeen, you can cast whatever the hell you want, but for now, you are twelve and you will know your limits. Are we clear?"
"Yes, professor," Harry replied, ears flaming red, "sorry." Poppy swished in and saved Harry further embarrassment.
"If I see you in here one more time," she said as she magically set and healed Harry's arm, "I'll set aside a bed and install a plaque with your name on it and you'll never leave it. How on earth did you manage to break your arm in two places, fracture your collarbone, and magically exhaust yourself? It hardly seems possible." She gave orders to stay overnight with his burned hand wrapped with some salve and a potion to fix his collar bone. Draco had similar orders to stay so that Poppy could keep an eye on a mild concussion he had from hitting his head on a rafter. After Harry and Draco had both changed into the customary hospital wing jammies, Narcissa kissed both goodbye and sauntered to the fireplace before both Malfoys flooed home. The battered duo settled in for a long night of healing.