AN: English is my second language. Even though I have read the chapter several times and have let other people check it as well, I apologize for any mistakes. All possible mistakes in this chapter belong to me alone.
Chapter 10 – Contempt
"... which is why the Chamber and Slytherin's monster are consigned to the realm of fantasy by most scholars", Harry read to the end and closed the heavy book with a loud bang. Harry had sneaked out early the next morning after Halloween and got a copy of "Hogwarts: A History", even if he had not officially borrowed it.
Daphne sat opposite him, looking at him thoughtfully. "But that only helps us to a limited extent. We do not know whether the chamber actually exists, where it is located, or what kind of monster it is supposed to be."
"There wasn't anything better in the library," Harry replied. "We can look there again later, but let's go out now. The sun will soon be rising."
With that he took Daphne's hand and together the two children made their way out of the Slytherin common room and then the castle. Arriving outside, they already saw the first bright rays of the rising sun on the horizon. Harry took a deep breath of the cool morning air, letting the wind brush across his face. He enjoyed those quiet moments in the morning when everything was still calm and peaceful.
They walked their usual way along the lake, marveling at the sunrise, which was even more magnificent than usual this morning, the entire landscape bathed in orange light.
…
"No, these jets definitely can't fly faster than racing brooms!" Daphne laughed during their discussion about the differences between the Muggle and the wizarding world, but Harry somehow felt like they were being watched.
"I'm sure. I saw them on TV," Harry replied absentmindedly because he had started to look around, clutching his wand in his coat pocket. Was someone following them?
"What's a T–?" Daphne broke off her question when she saw Harry's warily looks, quickly pulling out her wand. "Harry, what's going on?"
"I don't know ... I have the feeling that ..." He let his gaze wander, his wand now also in his hand, feeling Daphne's back against his. In this way, they could give each other cover.
Then he saw it! In a bush a few meters away. Yellowish tennis ball eyes stared at him. And he had seen these eyes before, he was sure of it! In a split second, Harry had created a magic shield in front of them.
"Who's there?" he called out. "Come out immediately!"
Now Daphne had whipped around too, pointing her wand at the bushes. Harry, however, did not avert his gaze. Who was hiding there?
A measly figure emerged from the bushes, dressed in a kind of dirty pillowcase. It was a house-elf, but not just any house elf.
"Dobby?" Harry asked in disbelief. What was he doing here? Harry remembered that the house-elf had warned him of a supposed danger on his birthday. And now this story about the Chamber of Secrets. This couldn't be a coincidence.
"Harry Potter stayed at school," whined Dobby as he got closer, a single tear running down his long, pointed nose. "Dobby warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby?"
"What are you doing here, Dobby? Is it because of the danger you talked about?" Harry's heart raced.
"Harry Potter sir, you have to get out of here. At Hogwarts you will be in mortal danger. You–"
"Mortal danger? What mortal danger?" interrupted Daphne. "What danger is Harry in? Speak!" Harry could hear the concern in his friend's voice, and he saw her hand with the wand trembling. Soothingly, he put his free hand on her back.
"Dobby can't say it. But you must believe Dobby! It's not safe here!"
"Why do you care about my security?" Harry asked the house-elf.
"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew," Dobby groaned as more tears dripped onto his grubby pillowcase. Harry decided to just let him talk. "If he only knew what he means to us, the lowly, the enslaved, the dregs of the magical world. Dobby still remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, Harry Potter sir. We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir. Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir. But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the dark days would never end, sir ... and now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more –"
Dobby froze. Horror-struck, he ran to the next tree and started banging his head against it. "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby ..."
Harry and Daphne ran after him. Harry grabbed Dobby, laboriously dragging him away from the tree.
"Calm down, Dobby," he called out, exchanging a worried look with Daphne. So it was really about the Chamber of Secrets! When Dobby made at least no move to start running again, Harry continued, "Does the Chamber of Secrets really exist? And you said it was opened before? Tell us, Dobby!"
"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," the house-elf sobbed. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen. Go home Harry Potter sir, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, it's too dangerous."
"Who is it, Dobby?" Harry asked, still clutching Dobby's wrist to prevent him from hurting himself again. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?"
"Dobby can't say it, sir. Dobby can't say it. Dobby mustn't tell. Go home, sir, go home."
"But this is my home, Dobby!"
Daphne now seemed to have had enough. She quickly leaned forward, now pointing her wand directly at Dobby's throat. "That's enough now!" she called in an icy voice. "Tell us everything you know, or –"
"Or you will kill me, miss? Dobby is used to death threats. Dobby gets them five times a day at home," said Dobby, blowing his nose on a corner of his dirty pillowcase. He looked so pathetic that Harry almost felt sorry for him.
"Then you can see how serious I am about mine," Daphne replied angrily and raised her wand. There was a loud crack, and Harry's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. Daphne swore loudly.
"Calm down, Daphne. We cannot do anything now." Harry tried to take Daphne's trembling hands, but she slapped his hands away, tearing her hair and pacing wildly.
"But he knows something! He knows something, damn it! He knows who's behind it ... behind the chamber. We must –"
"Daphne! Calm down. Calm down," Harry called, embracing her. "Breathe deeply. Take a deep breath. Yes, exactly like that!" Harry looked at his friend with concern, who was still panting and quivering with emotions. "Daphne, we're going to do something. We go back to yesterday's place and look around. Maybe we will find some clue."
Now Daphne looked directly into his eyes. Harry still saw how agitated she was, and above all, he saw terrible fear in her eyes. Gently, he hugged her.
"Everything will be fine," he said comfortingly as he stroked her hair. Everything had to be fine!
He felt the raising and lowering of Daphne's chest slow again, and her tremors also decreased. After a few more moments, she had calmed down somewhat. Harry released his grip, taking a step back.
Daphne took his hand and started to hurry back to the castle. "We will do more! I'll search every damn book in the library for information. And I will immediately write to the Daily Prophet to send me everything they have. The chamber has already been opened once, so there must be something in old editions."
"Sounds like a good plan," said Harry, who was happy to have the determined Daphne back.
"Can you lend me some money? For the Daily Prophet?"
"Of course, Daph."
When they were almost back to the castle, Harry thought of something else. "Why is Dobby only wearing a dirty pillowcase?"
"That is the sign of his enslavement," Daphne replied absently as if her thoughts were somewhere else entirely. "If his family gave him proper clothes, he would be free ..."
Harry cramped. Who did this to another living being? Only hideous monsters. Maybe this world really did not deserve anything other than perish. And wizards like Dobby's family as well…
They searched the entire library, but none of the books contained more information about the Chamber of Secrets than "Hogwarts: A History," which Harry had luckily gotten early in the morning. Apparently, they were not the only ones looking for information, because all other copies were now out of print.
The other students gave Harry a wide berth and eyed him suspiciously, many even obviously fearful. Some even spread the rumor that he was Slytherin's heir! As if the fact that he was still at Hogwarts and had not been expelled from school would not clearly prove that he had nothing to do with the petrification of Mrs. Norris. They were all idiots, Harry thought.
That is how it came that Harry and Daphne found themselves back in the corridor on the second floor where they had discovered the petrified cat and the writing on the wall yesterday. Maybe they could still find some clues that could bring a little light into the darkness. Almost everything looked the same as yesterday evening, only that no stiff cat was hanging from the torch bracket anymore. Otherwise the corridor was empty. Harry knelt to look for traces on the floor, while Daphne examined the walls, but neither of them discovered anything unusual.
"Do you remember all the water on the floor?" Daphne asked him at some point. "Where did that come from? Now the water is gone, apparently someone mopped it up."
"Yes, you are right, Daph! Wait, it was about here." Harry was now at the level of a door that led to a girl's toilet. "Yes, it must have come from here. Here from the toilet."
Daphne came to him, reaching for the brass doorknob. "Then let's see if we can find anything in it."
"But I can't go in there! That's a girl's toilet!" Harry replied, appalled.
Daphne looked at him, rolling her eyes. "There's not a living soul to be seen, Harry. Don't be so prudish." With that, Daphne opened the door and pushed Harry inside.
Harry stumbled into what was probably the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom he had ever seen. There was a row of chipped sinks under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror. The floor was damp, and the water reflected the dull light given off by stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders. The once green color peeled off the scratched wooden doors of the stalls, and one of them was dangling off its hinges. Daphne also came in behind him, looking at their surroundings in disgust.
Daphne had been right that there was no living soul to be seen, but a ghost hovered over one of the toilet bowls. This ghost looked like a chubby female Hogwarts student, wearing thick glasses, and just popping a pimple on her chin (could ghosts get pimples, Harry wondered internally, or did they have pimples for the rest of their lives if they died with them?).
"This is a girls' bathroom," the ghost said, eyeing Harry suspiciously. "And you're not a girl."
"Um ..." Harry did not know what to say. After all, it was true, he was clearly not a girl.
Daphne began to speak, "We just wanted to look around here. A cat was attacked here last night. Did you notice anything? Did you see someone?"
"I wasn't paying attention," the ghost replied bitterly. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm ... that I'm ..."
"That you're already dead," Daphne completed the sentence. "You are a ghost, so –"
The ghost girl gave a dramatic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet vanishing from sight. From the direction of her muffled sobs, she has come to rest somewhere in the drainpipe.
"You know Daph, sometimes you really have to be a little more empathetic," Harry said teasingly.
After a few days, an owl actually brought some old editions of the Daily Prophet, but they did not learn much from the articles. Only that there had been attacks before in the past. And that, in 1943, the muggle-born student Myrtle Elizabeth Warren had apparently died mysteriously, which had been associated with the Chamber of Secrets. And that a student had been expelled from school shortly thereafter, but his name was not mentioned anywhere, and it was unclear whether he actually had anything to do with the student's death. However, he had apparently not come to Azkaban, which suggested that he had had nothing to do with it. Nevertheless, they asked their teachers, but nobody wanted to talk about it. Not even McGonagall and Flitwick when Harry asked about it during one of their practice sessions. Otherwise, not much happened for the time being, except that the other students continued to avoid Harry and therefore Daphne, but they were already used to that, and so this experience was nothing new to them.
The fearful atmosphere at Hogwarts suddenly intensified when Colin Creevey was also found petrified some time later. The first-years now only walked through the castle in small groups, as if they were afraid of being attacked if they set off alone. And the other students had not forgotten that Harry had hexed Creevey at the beginning of the school year. No matter where he went now, people started whispering and pointing at him, many giving him fearful looks. A group of second-years from Hufflepuff even turned on the spot when they saw Harry and Daphne approaching them in the corridor. Daphne returned the fearful looks with a hateful expression. Their classmates were all stupid fools and lemmings, she said disparagingly. An opinion Harry had to agree with.
In the second week of December, as in the previous year, a list was put up in the common room in which the students who wanted to stay at Hogwarts during the Christmas holidays should enter their names. Harry entered his name immediately, even if he did not know if it was necessary anymore, since Dumbledore had assured him that he would never have to go back to the Dursleys. To his surprise, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle also entered their names. What really shocked Harry, however, was that Daphne did not want to enter her name. That had led to a nasty argument between them that Harry didn't like to remember...
…
"Why do you want to go back to your parents?" Harry shouted.
"Because I have to! For my plan that I told you about. You know all that!"
"But I don't like it! Stay here where you are safe!"
"To be safe in the long run, I have to go back this Christmas. For the very last time. My decision is made! You should actually support me if you are my partner, as you always say!"
"I am! But what good is your plan if you die this Christmas! What if your plan fails? Have you ever thought about that?"
"My plan will work!"
"You don't know that!"
"Yes, I know that! My plan will work because it has to work."
"And if it doesn't work, you're dead!"
"Then I'm dead! Maybe I want to be dead? What does this life have to offer me anyway…"
"Daphne, wait!"
But Daphne had already stormed out with her hair blowing. And Harry thought he saw tears in her eyes.
…
When they finally had seen each other again in the evening, they had just hugged each other silently. Neither of them had raised the issue since then, but Harry was still incredibly afraid for Daphne. He just hoped that everything would go well. He knew that he would never bear to lose her...
When they crossed the entrance hall a week later, they noticed a small knot of people around the notice board, where a parchment had just been pinned on. From the scraps of conversation they picked up, they learned that there would be a dueling club. The date for the first- to fourth-years was even the very same evening. Therefore, Harry and Daphne decided at short notice to also go to this dueling club. They were convinced that, given the level of their classmates, they would not learn anything new there, but they were interested in the magical skills of their classmates. After all, knowledge was power. And power was knowledge. And who didn't like to exercise power over their enemies?
So they hurried back to the great hall at eight o'clock in the evening. There the long dining tables had vanished, and a golden stage had appeared in the center of the hall, lit by thousands of candled floating overhead. The other students had already gathered around it, all with an excited expression and armed with their wands. Harry and Daphne stood at the edge of the crowd where the students immediately backed away from them. Harry just rolled his eyes.
Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and, followed by none other than Snape in his usual black robe. Harry cursed inside. In fact, he had been expecting Flitwick, who Harry knew had once been a dueling champion and who had given them useful tips more than once in their private lessons. Apparently, he had cheered too soon.
Lockhart spoke in his smug manner, "Gather round, gather round. Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Excellent! Well, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club and train you all in case you need to defend yourself as I myself have done on countless occasions. But you all know that, for full details, see my published works." He flashed his broad smile, before pointing to Snape. "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape. He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has kindly agreed to act as my assistant today and help me with a small demonstration before we begin. Now, you don't have to worry, of course. You'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear."
"Wouldn't it be best if they finished each other off?" Harry murmured to Daphne, whereupon she just mischievously punched him in the side.
Afterwards Lockhart and Snape presented their "small demonstration", which ended with Lockhart flying backwards off the stage, smashing into the wall, and sliding down it to sprawl on the floor. Malfoy and some other Slytherins cheered, and Harry almost joined in.
"Looks like your wish was at least half fulfilled," teased Daphne, which now Harry acknowledged with a sly smile.
But Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet a short time later, even if he had lost his hat and his wavy hair was standing on end. Of course, he then tried to understate his humiliation and interpret it in his favor. No surprise for Harry.
They should then get together in pairs and practice the disarming charm that had just been shown. Harry and Daphne, of course, immediately formed a pair before Lockhart or Snape could match them otherwise. Bored, they began to disarm themselves in sequence. They had used the disarming charm many times and could now even use it silently, even if they preferred to speak the incantation out loud before the eyes of the others. However, this gave them the opportunity to watch their classmates, but only very few of them actually practiced the disarming charm. Most just randomly fired spells and curses at each other, many of them shooting aimlessly through the hall. The two watched the chaos with amusement.
"Doesn't look like our classmates are capable duelists," Harry murmured to Daphne.
"That's it," Daphne replied, before adding in a serious voice, "At this rate, I don't think it's impossible that we may have to fight them someday. When I see them here, I don't worry too much."
"But they are much more than we are, Daph."
"Quality always defeats quantity."
Before Harry could say anything, Lockhart started screaming, "Stop! Stop!" But nobody reacted to his screams.
Snape took matters into his own hands and shouted with a raised wand, "Finite Incantatem!" A greenish smoke was hovering over the battlefield and all the effects of the numerous spells instantly came to an end, but more than a few students were still rolling on the floor. Some had even received bleeding injuries. At some point, however, it was more or less quiet again.
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing confused in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape and then looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Mr. Potter, Miss Greengrass, how about you –"
"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," Snape replied with a sparkle in his eyes. "The two lovebirds couldn't harm a hair on each other's head. It would undoubtedly be an extremely boring performance. How about Malfoy and Potter instead?"
"Excellent idea," said Lockhart, signaling Harry and Malfoy to come on stage.
Daphne had come to the center with Harry, where she was now whispering in his ear so that her hair tickled his face. "Don't reveal too much of your skills. It's not a bad thing if the enemy doesn't know the full extent of your abilities."
"How Slytherin," replied Harry, whereupon Daphne only gave him a short smile. With a last squeeze of his hand, she moved away and positioned herself at the front of the crowd that had gathered around the stage. Harry went up the stairs and was now above the other students, looking forward to giving Snape's little golden boy a good trashing.
Harry was looking at the same golden boy now, but Malfoy looked worried and avoided his eyes. He was probably all too aware of how their last fight had ended. And back then Malfoy had had the support of their other four roommates.
Harry was torn from his pleasant memories when Lockhart moved next to him and swankily spoke. "Now, Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this." He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Harry rolled his eyes. "Whoops, my wand is a little overexcited."
On the opposite side Snape now came to Malfoy, leaned down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy then nodded curtly. What were they up to, Harry thought.
Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"
"What, drop my wand?" Harry said contemptuously, but Lockhart was no longer listening to him.
Harry exchanged a last look with Daphne, who gave him an encouraging nod. He shouldn't reveal too much of his skills, he reminded himself. Better to wait and see what Malfoy would try. So he took a defensive position.
Lockhart started counting down. "Three - two - one - go!"
Right after that, Malfoy quickly raised his wand and shouted "Serpensortia!"
Harry saw how a long black snake shot out of the tip of Malfoy's wand, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. The surrounding students cried out in fear.
Harry was a little disappointed. Was that really everything that Snape and Malfoy were capable of doing? Before Harry could just vanish the snake, Lockhart suddenly stepped forward, who apparently wanted to act the part of the hero again.
"Allow me," Lockhart called, brandishing his wand at the snake. There was a loud bang, but instead of vanishing, the snake flew high into the air and then fell back to the floor with a loud smack, right in front of a second-year from Hufflepuff. Harry, however, did not notice the boy because Daphne was standing right next to him, staring at the snake with fascination. The snake raised itself again, fangs exposed, and it seemed to Harry as if it wanted to attack.
Before Harry even made a conscious decision to do so, he screamed in panic at the snake, "Get away from her! Go away!"
And in fact, the snake slumped to the ground, quite peacefully, and turned its eyes to Harry. Harry felt the fear drain out of him. He knew the snake would no longer attack Daphne, but he could not have explained why he knew that.
Harry looked up, seeing Daphne's wide eyes. What was going on? He then let his gaze wander over the assembled crowd, and everyone looked at him with a frightened expression. Many backed away in panic.
"What do you think you're playing at?" the Hufflepuff boy next to Daphne shouted at him. Before Harry could say anything, he had turned and stormed out of the hall, and several other students followed him.
Harry looked nervously at Daphne and saw that she was thinking hard. Snape suddenly stepped forward, waving his wand, and the black snake vanished. Snape was also staring at Harry now with a shrewd and calculating look that Harry was not at all comfortable with. Agitated whispering began everywhere in the hall and students kept pointing at Harry.
Harry felt a tugging on the back of his robes. "Come on, Harry," Daphne said softly to him.
Harry then came down from the stage. "What's going on, Daphne? Why do our classmates react this way?" He was still completely confused.
"Let's talk about it when we get out of here." With that Daphne took his hand, and together they hurried out of the Great Hall with quick steps. Meanwhile, the crowd of students drew away as if they thought they were monsters. Or probably just him.
When they reached their hiding place in the Room of Requirement, Daphne pushed Harry into an armchair.
"What's going on?" he asked, still confused.
"Don't you really know what you were doing?" Daphne's ice-blue eyes bored into his and her face was only a few inches from his.
"No, what have I done?"
"You gave orders to the snake, Harry! You spoke to the snake!"
"Yes, I told her to get away from you and leave you alone." He saw a brief flicker in Daphne's eyes, like sparkling stars in a dark night sky. Or a single candle in total darkness. Daphne suddenly looked away.
"Harry ... but you spoke in Parseltongue. Snake language."
Harry stared at her with his mouth open. "I spoke a different language? But ... I didn't realize. How can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"
Daphne looked at him again with a piercing look. "I don't know ... But Harry ... I UNDERSTOOD what you have said!"
"What do you mean, Daphne?"
"You spoke Parseltongue which only Parselmouths can do. But I understood what you have said. I could understand Parseltongue!"
"This means ..."
"Yes, I also have to be a Parselmouth. Like you. You are a Parselmouth, Harry!"
"But what's so bad about it? Why did our classmates react so shocked?" Harry still didn't understand what the whole turmoil was about.
Daphne got up and started walking up and down. "Many dark wizards of the past were Parselmouths, Harry. It is commonly associated with dark magic. Parselmouths are incredibly rare. But Salazar Slytherin was famous for talking to snakes. That is why the symbol of our house is also a snake."
Harry understood now. "Then the whole school now believes that I –"
"Exactly, Harry, that you are his descendant. That you are his heir. That you opened the chamber..."
"But I'm not! Apparently, you can talk to snakes too, so I'm not that unique!"
Daphne looked thoughtfully. "I do not understand that, too. Parselmouths are incredibly rare. As far as I know, no one in my family could speak to snakes. Then why could I understand what you said to the snake?" At this point she seemed to pause to think, her hands playing with her wand. "But ... I have an idea ... I just need to know." With that she raised her wand and said, "Serpensortia!"
A long black snake shot out of the tip of her wand and landed on the floor. Daphne and Harry stared at the snake, before Daphne cleared her throat.
"Uh ... snake, do you understand me?"
The snake now turned its head to Daphne. Harry heard the snake hiss, but he also understood the meaning of this hiss! How was that possible?
"Yes, mistress. I understand you. And I obey. What do you want from me?"
Harry saw Daphne's mouth open! So her guess was actually correct, she too was a Parselmouth! Now he wanted to try it as well!
"Snake, do you also understand what I'm saying?" Harry said excitedly.
Now the snake turned its head to Harry. And again, he heard the snake's hiss, and understood it.
"Yes, master. I understand you too. What do you want?"
Harry exchanged a look with Daphne, seeing the same excitement on her face that he felt.
Daphne started speaking again, "For now, we don't want anything. Thank you for your help, snake." With a wave of her wand, the snake vanished.
Harry jumped up immediately, taking his friend's hands. His entire body trembled. "Daphne, that was incredible!" He started to laugh out loud.
Daphne seemed to stare into the distance. Then, however, she looked at Harry, a slight smile on her lips. "That was ... a really strange feeling ... It felt normal to speak to the snake. But at the same time it felt somehow ... warm ... but also tickling somehow ... I can't put it into words..."
Harry grinned at Daphne because he had an idea. "You know, Daph, we could only talk in Parseltongue now. Our own secret language, you know?"
Now Daphne looked at him defiantly, smiling mischievously. "Then go on, try it!"
Harry looked at Daphne and started to speak, "Daphne, do you understand me?"
Daphne looked at him briefly, before bursting out laughing so that she had to hold her sides. In a consciously booming voice, she replied, "Yes, Harry, I understand you!" She had to laugh out loud again. At some point she calmed down and just looked at him with a grin. Harry had been waiting the whole time with a patient smile on his face.
"Yes, I have understood you," said Daphne, still grinning broadly, "but you spoke quite normally. Human language."
Harry had already realized that by now. But it had to work somehow, he just knew that! He tried to concentrate. He was looking directly into Daphne's eyes now. He tried to imagine a blue snake in his mind's eye. Exactly the same blue color as Daphne's eyes. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth. "Daphne, do you understand me?"
Daphne's grin suddenly disappeared from her face. Instead, she stared at him with wide eyes. She came very close to Harry, putting her right hand on his cheek. Harry was lost again in her deep blue eyes; he could look at those eyes for hours, but then he heard Daphne's hissing voice.
"Yes, Harry, I understand you." Either Daphne must have heard herself speak Parseltongue, or she could tell from Harry's expression, because Daphne beamed with joy, giving Harry that beautiful, precious smile that fascinated him so much. "And thank you, Harry, for wanting to save me earlier," Daphne said, before closing the distance between their lips and kissing him. Harry felt her soft lips on his and a pleasant warmth filled him. Closing his arms around his friend, he tenderly returned the kiss.
When they broke apart, Harry beamed at Daphne, which she replied. They sat on the couch, holding each other's hands, both still somehow electrified by their previous experience.
Daphne was the first to speak again. "But Harry, let that be our secret for now. So that no one else knows that I can understand and speak Parseltongue. It's not a bad thing –"
"… if the enemy doesn't know the full extent of your abilities," Harry finished, laughing. "It's okay, Daph. Then only I will be the next Dark Lord in the eyes of the whole school and your revelation as Dark Lady has to wait."
"You're going to be a real Slytherin, Harry," Daphne replied, laughing too.
"I have a good teacher."
So, they sat together on the couch for a while, enjoying their togetherness. The calm before the storm, for Harry was aware that, after today's revelations, the near future would be anything but pleasant for him, after all, their classmates were stupid idiots, as Daphne used to say.
Suddenly, Harry had an idea. "Daphne," he said pensively.
"Hmm," she replied, still leaning against him and her eyes closed contentedly.
"I was just thinking ... if we both can understand snakes and nobody else ... and only we could hear the voice in Lockhart's office and also on Halloween ..."
Now Daphne sat up suddenly, realization written on her face. "Then it could have been a snake," she finished his thoughts. "But ... what snake could petrify its victims, like Mrs. Norris and Creevey? I can't think of any. Maybe we should check out the library ... But the only dangerous snake I can think of in this direction is the basilisk. But ... but the look of the basilisk kills, it does not petrify ... And how should a basilisk move through the castle without anyone noticing?"
"So probably not a basilisk," Harry pondered too. "But you're right, maybe we'll find something else in the library."
At some point Harry and Daphne got ready to return to their dormitories.
"By the way, I remember something," Harry said, laughing. "It's about my cousin and a snake. In retrospect, it all makes a lot more sense now. You will like the story..."
That Harry's roommates reacted to him with complete silence and otherwise ignored him was even pleasant compared to the fearful dread that the other students showed him the next day. Apparently almost everyone was now convinced that he was Slytherin's heir and had opened the Chamber of Secrets.
It all got even worse when two more people were found petrified. And besides the Gryffindor house ghost, who had it caught? The Hufflepuff student, of course, who - according to the entire student body - Harry had threatened the day before. Did fate really want to kid him?
That is how it came that in the evening Professor McGonagall stepped up to Harry and Daphne, who were crossing the entrance hall on their way back to the dungeons.
"Mr. Potter," she said to Harry, "would you please accompany me? Professor Dumbledore would like to speak to you."
Harry, of course, knew immediately what was going on. "But I have nothing to do with the petrifications," he replied alarmed. "I was far away from where it happened."
"That's right, Professor," said Daphne appalled. "We were together the whole time! Harry didn't do anything."
"Still, please accompany me to the headmaster, Mr. Potter," McGonagall replied calmly.
"Then I'll come too!" Daphne's voice sounded firm, but Harry still heard the slight tremor in her voice. He felt how upset and worried she was.
"Unfortunately, that is not possible, Miss Greengrass. The headmaster just wants to see Mr. Potter."
Harry saw Daphne open her mouth to protest again, so he decided to step in. "It's okay, Daph," he said with a wry smile to calm her down a bit. "Can you please take care of my school things in the meantime?" With that, he handed Daphne his bag.
Understanding flickered across Daphne's face. Harry knew that she knew that his Invisibility Cloak was in his bag. Harry then said goodbye to Daphne and followed Professor McGonagall.
He would bet any money that Daphne followed them under his Invisibility Cloak. He just hoped she was smart enough not to follow them into Dumbledore's office...
As they walked through the castle, followed by many looks and murmurs, Harry thought of the petrified victims. He was only really sorry for the ghost of the Nearly Headless Nick, since he had been very kind to him and Daphne when he had led them to McGonagall's classroom on their first day at school. He did not care much about the other victims, but of course he did not want them to die. He just hoped that everything could be resolved, even if he had no idea how. Unfortunately, their research in the library in the morning had also been unsuccessful.
When they reached the gargoyle guarding the entrance up the stairs to Dumbledore's office, McGonagall turned to Harry, looking at him somehow sorrowful.
"Harry," she said hesitantly, and he noticed that it was the first time that she used his first name. "No matter what will happen there, I believe you are not the culprit. Be honest. The truth is on your side. Then everything will be fine."
Harry's throat felt rough. "Thank you, Professor," he croaked.
McGonagall turned back to the gargoyle and said, "Lemon drop". The gargoyle woke up, revealing the moving stairs up to Dumbledore's office.
Before taking the spiral staircase, Harry took one last look back. Standing there on the next corner, he saw Daphne, his cloak trembling in her hands. She looked at him fearfully, but he knew that, unlike their classmates, she was not afraid of him, but for him. He tried to put all his confidence in his expression, even if he did not know if he really felt that way. With a last nod and the promise in his eyes to see her again soon, he turned and let himself be carried up by the spiral staircase. McGonagall stayed behind, looking sadly after him before turning to Daphne...
Harry had now reached the top and entered Dumbledore's office, but there was no sign of the headmaster. The phoenix Fawkes, however, was sitting on a golden perch next to the desk. He looked ill and plucked, his eyes dull and red and gold feathers falling out of his tail. Harry felt sorry for Fawkes, whose burning day had to be immanent. Maybe it was even today. Cautiously, Harry approached the phoenix, which made a choking sound.
"Thanks, Fawkes, for being there for Daphne in the summer. I am deeply indebted to you," Harry murmured to the phoenix, reaching out to stroke him comfortingly.
When Harry touched Fawkes, he felt as if he had been struck by lightning, making his hair stand on end. He then saw an image out of nowhere in his mind's eye; an image of a beautiful pale woman with hair blacker than black and blood-red eyes. But as soon as the image came, it was gone and Harry found himself a step away from Fawkes, breathing heavily. What had just happened? He looked up and was looking straight into Fawke's dull golden eyes. Harry felt as if the phoenix emanated terrible sadness and a feeling of deep regret. Fawkes feelings? And who had been this woman?
Before Harry could settle all his thoughts, Fawkes suddenly burst into flames. The phoenix, which had meanwhile become a fireball, gave a loud shriek and there was nothing left but a smoldering pile of ash on the floor. So Harry had been right in guessing that today was Fawkes burning day.
The office door opened, and Dumbledore entered the room with a serious expression on his face. His eyes fell on Harry and the pile of ash next to him.
"Ah, about time," said Dumbledore. "He's been looking dreadful for days. I've been telling him to get a move on." When Harry did not reply, Dumbledore continued. "Fawkes is a phoenix, you know, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes." He pointed at the ashes from which a tiny, wrinkled, newborn Fawkes poke his head out."
"I'm familiar with the concept," Harry said quietly, causing Dumbledore to look at him strangely.
When Dumbledore sat down in his high chair behind the desk and looked at Harry with his piercing light blue eyes, Harry suddenly remembered what he was there for. He hastily tried to use his sketchy Occlumency knowledge to protect his thoughts, even if he did not harbor illusions. If Dumbledore really wanted it, he would be able to penetrate his mind with ease, Harry thought. At least he hoped he would notice it, and Harry made a mental note to avoid direct eye contact with Dumbledore.
Before Dumbledore could speak another word, however, the office door flew open and Daphne burst in, panting wildly and a desperate look in her eyes. She must have heard the password, Harry realized.
"Harry is innocent!" Daphne called out. "We were together the whole time. It wasn't him!" Dumbledore tried to say something, but Daphne kept talking to him, even though Harry had come up to her now and took her trembling hands. "You can't expel him! If –"
"Miss Greengrass!" Dumbledore interrupted her now in a loud voice. And since Daphne actually paused for a moment, he continued calmly. "I don't think Harry attacked those people."
Now both children looked at him with wide eyes. "You don't think it was me?" Harry repeated hopefully.
"No, Harry, I don't. But I still want to talk to you. Miss Greengrass - or can I call you Daphne? - please sit down too. I think Harry would tell you everything afterwards anyway."
Harry and Daphne both sat in front of the desk, looking curiously at the headmaster, even if they both avoided direct eye contact with him. Harry felt that Daphne had calmed down somewhat now, even though he still felt the rapid pounding of her heart. Confidently, he squeezed her hand.
"As I said, Harry, I don't think you're behind the attacks," Dumbledore said. "But I want to ask you if there is anything you'd like to tell me? Anything you noticed?"
Harry thought of several things, of course, but he did not want to tell any of them. Certainly nothing of what he had discussed and experienced with Daphne. And he did not want to tell about the disembodied voice that only he and Daphne had heard, now that the whole school thought he was the heir of Salazar Slytherin.
"No," Harry replied, "there is nothing, headmaster..."
Dumbledore gave him a long look, before sighning loudly.
That was when Daphne apparently decided to join the conversation. "Professor," she said in a calm voice that was in stark contrast to the agitated way she had stormed into the office before. "But we might have a few more questions. None of our teachers wanted to answer them until now, but maybe you can help us. How did the student Myrtle Elizabeth Warren die almost fifty years ago and who was the student who had been kicked out of school in this context?"
Harry grinned at his friend. That was the Daphne he knew and liked so much. Always eager to collect new useful information.
Dumbledore dropped back in his chair and for the first time he looked to Harry like the old man he was supposed to be. They waited patiently until Dumbledore had apparently gathered his thoughts.
"I see you both did a good job of researching," he said so quietly that Harry had to make an effort to understand him.
"These are not really secrets," Daphne replied. "There are newspaper articles. At least that this student died, and a student was expelled from school shortly afterwards. But the rest of the details are missing."
"Yes ... and not even that ..." Dumbledore paused and then spoke on. "Myrtle was a Ravenclaw student. Really smart and talented, albeit filled with self-doubts ... one day she was found dead on the toilet. Externally completely without injuries ..."
Toilet? She was found on a toilet? Then Harry realized! "This is the girl's ghost! In the girls' toilet on the second floor!" he said excitedly. That was right next to the crime scene of Halloween. That could not be a coincidence! Now he felt Daphne squeeze his hand.
Dumbledore looked at him. "I see you were very diligent ..."
"Just to prove that we have nothing to do with it," Daphne replied. "Even if the whole school suspects Harry ... And what about my second question: Who was the student who was kicked out of school for this? And why wasn't he sent to Azkaban?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Before I answer that, remind yourself that not everything is as it may seem at first ... You know the student. It was Hagrid –"
"Hagrid?!" Harry called stunned.
"Yes, Hagrid was kicked out of school back then."
"But that can't possibly be true. Hagrid would never ..."
"No, Harry, I didn't think Hagrid was behind Myrtle's death either. And I still don't think it. There was also no sure evidence. That's why he didn't come to Azkaban."
"Then why Hagrid at all?" Daphne asked confused.
"Hagrid was hiding a young Acromantula in the castle," said Dumbledore. "That was his doom. The entire wizarding world was looking for a culprit. And then Hagrid was made a scapegoat. But the attacks actually stopped after Myrtle's death. The chamber was apparently closed ..."
"What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets, Professor?" Harry asked expectantly.
Dumbledore looked at him wearily now. "I'm afraid not more than you two must have found out by now ... It's getting late and I am an old man and need my sleep. So I have only one request for both of you: be careful. Do nothing that you may regret later. And please forgive your classmates for their current behavior. They are scared. At some point they will be wiser again."
He wouldn't rely on that, Harry thought.
"We will," Daphne replied for both of them, even though Harry assumed that she thought exactly the same as he did.
"Then I wish you both a good night," said Dumbledore, and with a wave of his wand the door to the spiral staircase squeaked open. The unmistakable sign that they were both dismissed.
Harry and Daphne said goodbye to Dumbledore. But before they stepped through the door, they both took one last look at Fawkes, who still looked pretty miserable. Harry nodded gratefully again, but it was still like seeing deep sadness in the phoenix's eyes.
When Harry and Daphne returned to the dungeons, they went back over their conversation with Dumbledore.
"I don't think Dumbledore has told us everything he knows," said Daphne thoughtfully.
"I don't think so either," Harry replied. "What do you think we should do now?"
"We should speak to the ghost again, I mean Myrtle. Maybe she still remembers something. I'm just wondering if we should talk to Hagrid too…"
"I don't think so. He didn't seem to want to tell us about it yet. So let's wait until he's ready to talk about it on his own."
He then dragged Daphne into a dark side corridor where no one could see them, before leaning close to her ear so that only she could hear him. Imagining a wriggling blue snake in front of his inner eye, he began to speak in parseltongue, "And thank you, Daphne, for wanting to save me earlier." With that he lifted her head and kissed his friend. Now, in this place, with Daphne's smell of sunflowers and oranges in his nose and the feeling of her soft lips on his, he was sure that everything would be fine. Together they could just do anything.
And in fact, Harry and Daphne tried to speak to Myrtle again the next day, but apparently, she still felt hurt from their last conversation and therefore refused to even speak to them. As a result, their attempts to obtain more information have once again been unsuccessful.
The previously tense atmosphere in the castle was transformed into open panic by the new double attack. All the students, and even some teachers, avoided Harry when they met him as if he were in fact a monster that could attack them at any moment. No matter where he went, they whispered loudly and pointed at him. If it hadn't been for Daphne who held him back every time, he would have been freaking out long ago and would maybe have hurt someone. So it was probably a good thing that Daphne kept calming him down, even if she too became increasingly irritable...
It was also good that there were other people besides Daphne who continued to treat him normally. For a start, there was Hagrid, with whom they still liked to meet for drinking tea from time to time. Even if they indeed did not talk to him about what they had found out. McGonagall and Flitwick also behaved as if everything was fine with him. The regular lessons with them gave Harry a much-needed feeling of stability and normalcy.
With all of this happening, Harry almost forgot that Daphne wanted to return to her parents at Christmas. But only almost. The closer the day of her planned departure came, the more nervous he became. He was terrified for Daphne, but he was wary about raising the issue again. The memory of their previous argument about this topic was still too fresh...
Instead, he focused on his constant training with Daphne in the Room of Requirement. They trained all spells and curses that could be useful. When Daphne asked him to lend her his Invisibility Cloak over Christmas, he immediately complied with her request. He would do anything to increase the likelihood that she would return to him safely next year...
When they finally stood on the Hogsmeade platform with almost all the other students on the day before Christmas Eve, he embraced her tremblingly, never wanting to let her go. Daphne returned his hug, trembling too, and Harry wondered if she was as scared as he was.
At some point, however, it was time for Daphne to get on the waiting train. Reluctantly, they broke apart. After a last long look into her beautiful ice-blue eyes, in which Harry got lost so often, she turned and disappeared into the train that started moving shortly afterwards.
Harry watched the train for a long time until it was no longer recognizable on the horizon. He clenched up and he just couldn't escape that terrible fear that it could have been the last time he had seen his friend…
So he was extremely irritated when Crabbe and Goyle of all people sat next to him in the Slytherin common room in the evening, apparently wanting to start a conversation with him. What were these stupid asses thinking? Why should he want to talk to them of all people? Harry had simply pointed his wand at the two and let them vomit slugs before he stormed out.
The following night, Harry still felt connected to Daphne in his dreams, even if he felt a terrible pain for a brief moment. However, their shared dreams suddenly stopped in the next few nights. If he only concentrated on her and put out all his mental feelers, he could still feel that Daphne was alive, but otherwise he felt nothing of her. Not even in his dreams, which were now only nightmares. And Daphne also hadn't sent him a message, as promised, that her plan had worked. All of this made Harry feel more miserable every day. What was wrong with Daphne? Was she okay?
On Christmas Eve, Greengrass Manor
Daphne sneaked cautiously around the house so that she would not be heard, although there were not many people in the house who could hear her; only her parents and her sister Astoria. Her father had killed their last house-elf in a tantrum when she was six years old.
She still felt the pain of her "greeting" yesterday. She had just wanted to get rid herself of her parents right at that moment but had gritted her teeth and made no resistance. She had survived it so many times, then one more time would not matter, she had tried to convince herself. Part of her knew, however, that if she failed to put her plan into action today or her plan failed, she would not survive this Christmas holidays. Her parents had even become more and more ruthless and cruel over the past summer, and it seemed as if they would pick up where they left off. They countered her friendship with Harry with sheer hatred and blazing wrath.
The thought of Harry made Daphne feel warm, as so often in the past. To her, Harry was much more than just a friend. He was her partner, her anchor, the only reason she had not lost her mind long ago. Or put an end to her life. Admittedly, in their stupid argument a few weeks ago, she had shouted at him what this life had to offer her, secretly, however, she already knew the answer.
Deep down inside her, she indulged in childish dreams, full of naivety and stupidity. She dreamed of a happy life free from all the constraints and cruelties that had determined her life so far. She dreamed of love that she had never experienced before. And she dreamed of a family that she had never had before. A family that she could love and that she was loved by. For her parents weren't such a family. Harry's parents must have been different. If everything she heard was true, Harry's mother had sacrificed herself for her son! For Harry. The thought warmed her heart. For that she would be grateful to Lily Potter forever.
Without Harry, she would have given up long ago in this hell of life. But Harry had given her something worth dreaming for. Something worth fighting for. And she would fight! Oh yeah! Neither her parents, nor their stupid classmates, nor that damn chamber with that damn monster would be able to do anything about that. Certainly no Death Eater bastards, or even the Dark Lord himself, if he was still out there somewhere. She would fight for her future with Harry. For her family! Everyone else on this damned planet could perish, even if Harry still implied his parents' stupid, noble Gryffindor virtues from time to time.
Daphne was also incredibly nervous, her trembling fingers playing with the short, chunky wand Harry had given her before the summer. If she could not help herself anymore and she had to make a choice, she should always choose herself, he had told her. And that he would prefer if she then would not use her own wand. That moment had meant so much to her and had revealed so much at the same time. Harry was indeed her partner! He knew what she had to do to be free and happy, and he did not try to stop her. He had even let her practice the Imperius Curse on him. He trusted her! Daphne resolved never to betray his trust, absolutely never!
Daphne knew that she loved Harry. There was no point in trying to tell herself otherwise. She loved him! At that thought, Daphne felt again how a pleasant warmth flowed through her, giving her strength and confidence. Her plan would work, it had to work! And then she would be able to return to Harry and nothing would ever be able to separate them again!
Daphne had now reached the entrance hall. Through the window she saw Astoria, who was sitting alone under a tree, gazing into the distance. For a split second, Daphne felt guilty, but this compunction was immediately replaced by relief. That Astoria would not be there would make everything a lot easier.
She knew that her mother was still sleeping in her bed. She was never awake that early in the morning. And her father probably slept off in one of the armchairs in the living room. He got drunk almost every night trying to escape his own miserable life. Daphne was just disgusted with this man. She had to deal with him first, she knew that, for he was the more angry, unpredictable, and stronger of her parents.
She sneaked cautiously into the living room. A few logs were still glowing in the fireplace. And right there her father was sitting in one of the armchairs, several empty bottles on the floor around him. She could not see if he was still sleeping because he was sitting with his back to the entrance and thus to Daphne.
With pounding heart, Daphne clenched the chunky wand in her hands and pointed it at her father. It was now or never!
"Imperio"
Suddenly, Daphne felt as if she had run against a stone wall. Veils of blood formed before her eyes. It had to be her father who resisted her! It felt similar to her practices with Harry, just a lot more intense. She felt her nose start to bleed.
Come on, Daphne! Give him hell!
She tried to collect all her strength of mind and break her father's defenses, her right hand clutching the wand so violently that her knuckles became white. Little by little Daphne felt her push her father back. Her heart was racing, and she was dripping with sweat now. With great difficulty, struggling through every step, Daphne walked around the armchair and now looked into her father's face, distorted with rage. His eyes were wide open, his teeth clenched and his hands clawed at the armrests. White foam formed at his mouth. Daphne pointed the wand between his two hateful eyes.
You will do what I tell you!
Her father reared up in the armchair, causing Daphne to tighten the grip on the wand.
You will do what I tell you!
Her father tried to rise again but was pushed back once more, more foam forming at his mouth. Between gritted teeth, he spat out, filled with hatred, "I ... should ... have ... killed you ... immediately ... freak ..."
Daphne felt a lonely tear run down her cheek. "Then we're apparently both disappointed of each other, father," she said calmly.
"I'M NOT YOUR FATHER," shouted Morpheus Greengrass, who was now trembling all over. His eyes, however, were still sparkling like those of a real monster. They were full of hatred and contempt, aimed directly at Daphne.
"What do you mean?!" Daphne's heart was pounding so loud and fast that she felt like it was going to jump out of her chest at any moment.
"Your ... your dirty whore of a mother ... AHHH!" Suddenly all his limbs convulsed. And after a last gasp of resistance, Morpheus Greengrass's body fell limply back into the armchair, his eyes completely dull and empty now. He drooled from the corner of his mouth. She had broken him. At last.
Daphne stepped closer now, still pointing the wand between the eyes of the man who had given up all resistance. She felt as if she was going to throw up, but she just had to know what he meant by his words! Daphne swallowed ... and then issued the order to change everything.
"Tell me the truth!"
Next chapter: Alienation
Preview:
"Take that as my last warning, Granger. Next time I'll kill you."
