Chapter Eleven: The Hufflepuff and the Gryffindor Ghost

A duel between cousins nearly kills Draco and reveals a hidden talent to the students of Hogwarts, and an attack unlike any other leads to a piece of evidence that could identify the Horror of the Chamber of Secrets.


Harry slipped away from the rest of Gryffindor on their way to the library after lunch, darting after Severus as he disappeared to do whatever it was he did on Sunday afternoons.

"Professor!"

Severus turned, a sneer already on his lips.

"Looking for detention so soon after you've been released from the Hospital Wing? Why am I not surprised?"

Harry barely flinched. "Thank you for that sleeping potion, Professor," he said.

Severus' lip curled even more. "You should be thanking Madam Pomfrey," he said. "She is, after all, the one who asked me to brew it for you."

"I did," Harry assured him. "My aunt and uncle didn't spend a lot of time with me, but she made sure I had manners, so, thanks."

Severus sighed. "You're welcome," he said, though he looked like each word was tearing his throat apart.

Harry smiled tightly and turned to the stairs before hesitating and turning back.

"Can I do something else for you?" Severus asked, narrowing his eyes warningly.

Harry hesitated for another minute. "I heard about Colin Creevey, the one who was attacked last night. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall said that he was probably on his way down to visit me."

Severus' expression, for barely a moment, darkened at the very idea that someone had told him that.

"I overheard it!" Harry rushed to assure him. "I was just…I was wondering if you'd ever heard of the Chamber of Secrets before. Of it having…of it having been opened before."

Severus weighed his options for a moment, before shaking his head. "Never," he lied. "Though I do wonder why you're asking. You did, after all, make a promise."

"And we're not, we promise!" Harry assured him. "I just…" he looked down, fiddling with his sleeve. "I just wonder how bad it's going to get, before the end, is all."

Severus couldn't answer.

Thus far, both McGonagall and Dumbledore were being tight-lipped about the last time the Chamber had been opened.

The only thing he'd been able to glean from either of them, was that a student had died.

XX

Harry waited until the common room had pretty much emptied out before gesturing for his friends to gather around.

He told them of the house-elf that had stopped his letters during the summer, then added that he'd also prevented him and Ron from getting on the platform at the beginning of the school year.

"-and then yesterday, he apparently cursed that Bludger, hoping to send me home."

"You talked to him?" Ron asked angrily. "Did you ask him what the hell he'd been thinking? If he knew what kind of trouble I - we - got into because of him?"

"House-elves don't generally follow the same logic as you wizards do, or even as we Valerians do," Fallen pointed out. "Considering how powerful that sleeping draught was, I'm surprised you even remember that conversation Harry, so no, Ron, he didn't talk to Dobby. I, however, had a conversation with him. He won't be trying to save Harry's life any longer, so, hopefully, the rest of you will remain out of the crossfire."

"Seriously though," Draco said, frowning. "What had possessed him to try and save Harry by keeping him out of Hogwarts?"

Fallen blinked and turned to look at Yoko.

Yoko tilted his head.

XX

The Valerians didn't say anything until the children had vented their frustrations with Dobby and finally gone up to bed.

"Honestly, I hadn't thought to question the elf as to why he was trying to help him, I'd been more interested in making sure he stopped before the boy ended up dead," Fallen admitted.

"You weren't wrong," Yoko acknowledged. "As a House Elf, he was granted a level of access that few others have to Harry and the others. It was important to make clear why that was a very, very bad idea."

Fallen grimaced, sensing the 'but' coming before it actually did.

"He could have been a rather powerful informant, however."

"While I honestly hadn't thought of it," Fallen said, "I doubt he would have been much help. If he does belong to Nathaniel, he wouldn't be stupid enough to allow him to openly speak about what he was ordered to do."

"This is true," Yoko admitted, "but I can tell you from experience that servants often see and hear far more than their masters believe them to, particularly if you operate under the assumption that we're idiots."

Fallen smirked.

"It does raise a rather curious point, though," Yoko added thoughtfully. "Was Dobby sent to stop Harry from coming back to Hogwarts, or is he utilizing a loophole, and thus, a certain level of free will."

"That would be unprecedented," Fallen admitted. "Though when they're bred, the Malfoys tend to look for those with a certain level of free will. Lucius, and his father and grandfather before him, look down on House Elves, certainly, but are equally as aware that they're assets. All four of the Elves currently bound to the Manor have a certain level of free will, to better protect and care for it as well as their Masters."

"And Nathaniel?"

Fallen shook his head. "I'm not sure. He spent a great deal of time with his mother abroad and did the same with his own wife when they married. It's entirely possible that he has a different view of House-Elves, their purpose, and their usefulness."

XX

Harry wasn't sure how, but the attack on Colin Saturday night had been suppressed for all of Sunday, but the rumor mill was in full swing by Monday.

By the end of that first week, students had begun to travel in larger numbers through the halls, and a supposed underground trade of talismans, amulets, and other protective items was sweeping through the school.

It had gotten to the point that Yoko had turned the corner once and found Neville in the process of buying several talismans and an amulet from a smirking Sixth Year Ravenclaw, even though Neville himself was a pureblood.

"Neville, what are you doing?" the fox asked, amused.

The Ravenclaw's expression turned a mix of rueful and irritated.

"You should have no need of these things, Neville," Yoko told the Gryffindor. "You're a pureblood."

Neville blinked at him, startled, and looked at the Ravenclaw, who shrugged.

XX

"What made you forget your basic genealogy?" Blaise asked his friend at dinner Wednesday night.

Neville shrugged, the tips of his ears turning a little red. "Well, they went after Filch first, 'cuz he's a squib and all, and everybody knows I'm only a step above him."

The reminder made Yoko scowl.

The news that Filch was a squib had been mysteriously leaked to the staff and student body, and it was a point of pride that Yoko hadn't figured it out first.

On Filch's end, he was positive that the three Heirs had somehow figured out he was a squib and told the rest of the school, despite Draco honestly telling the man that he just hadn't been high enough on his radar for Draco to care.

Fallen added that if it was going to be anyone it was going to have been Yoko to figure out and tell the rest of the world.

Yoko, in turn, had wondered if perhaps it was the twins that had figured it out, given the number of times they were in the office with the caretaker.

Currently, Draco narrowed his eyes on Neville. "Your grades went up once you started studying with Hermione and Blaise, so you're obviously not an idiot and can definitely be taught, so why do you do that?"

"If I remember correctly, your two most difficult classes are Potions and Transfiguration, so one could always assume that the problem isn't you or the subject matter, but probably the professors," Yoko pointed out.

Everyone turned to look up at Severus, who was, thankfully, focused on his dinner, before exchanging speaking glances.

Severus may have proven to not be a thieving asshole, but even Draco could agree that he wasn't the greatest teacher.

XX

Blaise had always intended, for obvious reasons, planned to remain at Hogwarts for the upcoming Christmas holiday; but Draco had taken one look at Harry's face when McGonagall came around to find out which of her House were staying, and added his name to the list, regardless of plans made previous.

As December progressed, Harry appeared to be in a flexing state of depression, with no end to it yet in sight.

The brunette was in one of his low periods when Ron and Neville found out about the Dueling Club that was going to be meeting that night.

"So…are we going to conveniently forget that this is a creature of the Chamber of Secrets and odds are high it isn't going to be dueling?" Draco asked.

Even Harry, however, could see that for the farce it was.

Draco was as excited about a Dueling Club as everyone else was.

The blond spent the rest of the school day alternating between trying to convince Harry that it wasn't something he could miss, even with his current depressive episode, and trying to figure out who was going to run it with the others.

He was torn between Severus and Flitwick because both had been powerful and competent duelists, Severus because of his place in the last war, and Flitwick as a competitive duelist.

XX

It turned out that neither Severus nor Flitwick was leading the Duelist Club.

It was Lockhart.

Harry had taken one look at the man in deep plum robes and tried to turn around and walk out.

Draco held him in place.

"Look again," Draco whispered, nodding toward the stage that had been set up in the Great Hall.

Harry visibly brightened, because standing off to the side and looking more irritated than usual, was Severus.

"If nothing else, we need to see if Lockhart is actually going to face off against Severus, or if he's finally figured out where his self-preservation disappeared to since Fallen nearly tore off his arm," Draco told him.

Fallen look particularly gleeful as he looked between Severus and Lockhart. "Oh, I sincerely hope he's still an idiot," he said, fangs gleaming in the torchlight.

"Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called, waving an arm to try and further their silence. "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

'I can already see this going so well,' Yoko drawled.

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as myself have done on countless occasions-"

Fallen scoffed. 'This was his idea?' he muttered skeptically.

'More importantly, why did Dumbledore let him lead it?' Yoko asked. 'There are obviously better choices. The students know there are better choices. Lockhart hasn't been on anyone's lips today.'

Fallen snorted. 'I'm willing to put Galleons on it having been Dumbledore's idea, not Lockhart's that Severus serve as his overseer or assistant or whatever it is, he's trying to call this growing madness.'

Fallen finds it difficult to, not only focus, but take Lockhart seriously as he tried to explain what the club was hoping to accomplish and why he and Severus had been chosen to lead it, because Harry and Draco were trying to outdo one another with commentary, particularly because as time went on, Severus' expression was becoming less and less subtle on how he felt about not only the club but also on Lockhart.

Brandon, the unmitigated asshole, wasn't making it much easier.

"He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin."

"I hope you're an amazing duelist, Lockhart," Fallen called. "Snape isn't a comp-duelist, he's an accomplished war-duelist."

Severus looked down toward the wolf with narrowed eyes, because there were now hissed whispers up and down the Great Hall.

Harry and Draco grinned widely as Lockhart got rather pale, though they weren't sure if it was because of the General's words or because of Severus' slow, rather menacing smile as he decided that he was simply going to take Fallen outing his duelist level to the whole school.

"What's the difference?" Harry whispered to Draco.

"A war-duelist is more ruthless and usually a better duelist because they're usually dueling in a life-or-death situation," Draco whispered back. "Competition duelists usually have larger caches of spells because they study for their next duel. War-duelists can't participate in competitions, but comp-duelists are usually the first ones the Aurors conscript when we go to war with other countries or magical communities."

Blaise shook his head. "War or comp, if Severus looked at me with that smile on his face, I'd be on the other side of the continent."

"I suppose it only goes to show how dull Lockhart is because he certainly hasn't noticed Severus' displeasure," Yoko commented drily.

XX

Fallen and Yoko, who had both been part of war-duels in the past, were able to offer a detail-by-detail account of how a duel worked.

Which was great, because Severus, who was fixated on either, keeping his image intact or blowing Lockhart across the stage; and Lockhart, who was fixated on looking good were of no help.

Everyone, however, fell silent when Severus and Lockhart bowed to one another, wands straight in the air before them like swords.

The differences between the two were immediate, even for an untrained observer.

Severus was tight control and rigid movements, not taking his eyes off his opponent.

Lockhart was flamboyance and flair, every move he made was for the audience around them.

Severus was on him before he'd even straightened.

"Expelliarmus!"

With a flash of brilliant scarlet, Lockhart's wand went spiraling into the depths of the student-filled Great Hall as the man himself was flung into the air and slid across the stage once he finally landed again, coming to a halt just before he would have slipped off it.

Severus flicked his head minutely, throwing his hair back and away from his eyes as he, rather magnanimously, let Lockhart gather not only his feet but his wand as well.

"Do you think he's okay?" Hermione asked, hands pressed against her lips and dancing from foot to foot as she tried to get a better look at the professor.

"Who cares?" Blaise and Draco chorused, joining in the cheers and applause from Slytherin.

Personally, Harry thought Lockhart's smile was as strained as he'd ever seen it, as he tried to straighten his clothes, put his hair to rights, and take his wand from Lavender Brown.

"And there you have it," he said, after thanking a blushing Lavender for retrieving his wand, "that was a Disarming Charm." He raised his wand for all to see, as though they'd missed it flying from his hand in the first place. "As you see, I'd lost my wand there. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have only been too easy-"

"Then why don't you tell your students how you would have gone about that, Professor," Yoko said. "This is a class, isn't it? That's what you're here for."

Lockhart's gaze drifted to the fox in Blaise's arms but skittered away quickly.

"Well,"

"You dodge it," Severus murmured, voice an arctic chill. "At the level of skill this group brings, they would have no other recourse. Wouldn't you agree, Professor?"

Lockhart smiled weakly. "Yes, of course! Shall we move on? I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me-"

Once everyone was paired up, with Harry facing off against Blaise while Ron and Draco did the same several feet away, Severus sent Fallen and Yoko up to the platform to avoid any 'incidents' regarding their charges during practice, and Lockhart called their attention again.

"Face your partners," Lockhart called once he'd returned to the platform, bright smile back in full force. "And bow! Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents-only to disarm them, we don't want any accidents-one...two...three-"

That directive went about as well as one could have hoped, giving it to a bunch of children, regardless of age, and the club quickly spiraled out of Lockhart's control.

Though most of the spells were of second-through-fifth-year curriculum, they were cast by children who had no concept of control and space. The Great Hall was quickly filled with spells that flew past their intended targets and either hit or narrowly missed other targets, be they walls, decorations, or students.

"Finite Incantatem!" Severus shouted, and every spell in the Great Hall dissipated.

The potions master took a steadying breath, and in that time, Millicent Bulstrode, a Slytherin Second Year, refused to relinquish her chokehold on Hermione, her own opponent.

"Bulstrode!" Draco hissed, glancing at Severus and Lockhart on the platform. "Let her go!"

Hermione whimpered, so Harry and Ron darted forward to pull the Slytherin off their friend.

"Perhaps a one-on-one demonstration would be safer," Severus drawled, eyeing the crowd with disdain. "I suppose I should have known that simple instruction was too much for this group."

"A wonderful idea!" Lockhart said, clapping his hands. "Perhaps Harry and-"

"No thanks, Professor," Harry interrupted evenly. "I wasn't all that sold on this dueling club and I'm not feeling that well."

"If I could make a suggestion," Fallen said, coming to sit at the edge of the platform. "There are two children here who have practiced against one another in the past under controlled circumstances, not unlike these."

Draco raised his head, a smile twisting his lips.

"Oh?" Lockhart asked, eagerly.

"Indeed," Fallen said, amusement twisting his tone and lips into something dark and unreadable. "If Harry is unwilling to show off for you, perhaps the cousins Malfoy will oblige."

Draco glanced at his cousin. "It would be our pleasure."

Katelyn swallowed-the only sign of her possible nerves-but smiled wide and pleased all the same.

XX

Of the two, it was clear that Draco was the more practiced when it came to dueling, but both Malfoys had grown up with accomplished war-duelists as parents or family adjacent-like Severus himself, and the concept wasn't new to either of them.

Their age, of course, did make their knowledge of spells limited, but if the way Slytherin had jostled their way practically up to the edge of the stage, this was going to be something to see anyway.

Slytherin House left space enough for Harry and his friends, but only because Yoko had snapped fangs at several of them as they tried to shove Blaise out of the way.

"If you don't mind, Fallen," Severus drawled, gesturing to his side.

Fallen eyed him before scoffing. "You think my control that abysmal?" he asked the Potions professor, though he moved to sit at his side regardless.

"I think I will be faster to react than a student if you forget this is an informative demonstration and not a formal duel and go after Ms. Malfoy's throat," Severus said diplomatically, though there was sarcasm layered in his tone.

Fallen threw his head dismissively. "It wouldn't be her throat I go after first, Severus," he told him.

Both professor and Valerian fell silent as Draco and Katelyn raised their wands and bowed to one another, just enough that it was polite, but not enough to take eyes off one another.

Lockhart counted down as they paced away from one another, but Draco spun on 'two'.

It was obviously a tactic he used often because Katelyn was ready, deflecting the spell with a hissed word and a sharp slice of her wand.

Though the duel was interesting to watch by the bystanders, it was only to the more practiced eyes of the Valerians and Severus that the flaws and finery were more apparent.

Draco was an aggressive duelist, but not an intuitive or instinctual one. He used more power than was necessary for the casting of his spells, though that could also have been because of his young age, which did make deflecting them difficult as they could overpower those that Katelyn was using in turn. His footwork was phenomenal for someone of his age, leading him to perfectly performed spins, pivots, and lunges as he slowly gained ground on his cousin.

Katelyn, in turn, valued accuracy over power and was a more balanced duelist, defending as opposed to dodging if the case called for it. In contrast to Draco, who overpowered his spells, Katelyn didn't use enough, and by the time they entered Draco's 'bubble', they were already beginning to fizzle out. She was likewise, however, neither instinctive in casting her spells or intuitive in guessing which ones her cousin was likely to use next, despite their familiarity with one another. Though she didn't trip over her feet, there were several close calls.

It was one of those 'close calls', where, to buy time so she could regain both her feet and her 'center', she summoned a serpent to distract Draco.

The large head rose, and its hood flared, hissing at Draco as it pushed its body up to lunge for him.

"Draco!" Fallen warned, already darting forward, Yoko scrambling back onto the platform from where he'd been watching, again, in Blaise's arms, both rushing to intervene before Draco was seriously injured.

Severus strode forward on the wolf's tail, raising his wand to banish the snake.

"Allow me," Lockhart said, pulling the sleeve back on his wand arm.

Severus' eyes widened, alarmed, and sure enough, rather than disappear, the snake was thrown ten feet into the air and landed in a furious pile on Draco's shoulders.

The cobra immediately went for his throat.

"Stop!" Harry screamed, slapping his hands on the edge of the platform, bodily pressing against it as though being closer would save his friend.

Amazingly, the snake reared back and away from Draco's throat, swaying as it looked directly at Harry.

All eyes were now on Harry, however, not the near-death of the Malfoy heir.

With horror, he realized that he hadn't said the word in English.

He'd said it in Parseltongue.

XX

Severus dismissed the snake.

Lockhart dismissed the club.

Fallen and Yoko were firm and unyielding in telling Ron to hold his tongue as they swiftly left the Great Hall.

The wolf draped his Disillusionment Spell over the group as they followed the Slytherins down into the dungeon.

Draco was shaking, adrenaline slowly wearing off after the snake had nearly torn into his throat, and had his hand buried in Fallen's fur, grounding him for the moment.

Harry was pressed against Blaise's side, the dark-skinned Gryffindor keeping him there with an arm around his shoulders, as Draco was currently in no condition to comfort him after he'd outed himself to what would quickly become the entire school.

As soon as Fallen had them behind Severus' closed door, Draco dropped like a stone onto the carpet, pressing himself as close to his guardian as the wolf would allow.

Blaise pushed Harry onto Severus' couch before moving to Draco's side, trying, unsuccessfully, to get the blond off the ground and onto the couch as well.

"Why didn't you tell us you were a parselmouth?!" Ron asked, glaring at Harry with his hands on his hips.

Harry hunched forward, shoulders up around his ears. "I was told not to," he admitted quietly.

"So, you just kept it a secret from everyone?" Ron demanded.

Harry couldn't help the glance toward Blaise and Draco.

Ron scoffed. "Of course. You three are keeping secrets again. Just like when you kept Snape and Quirrell's argument a secret last year!"

"Enough!" Yoko yelled, bodily shoving Ron away from where he was towering over Harry, silver fur raised along his spine and green eyes blazing furiously. "First of all, Ronald Weasley, you are all entitled to your secrets and you have no right to demand Harry's or anyone else's. None."

Ron clenched his fists.

"Second of all," Yoko growled, stepping forward with such presence that Ron took a step back even though there were no fangs visible in the fox. "Your world is one of the most unaccepting of what you all perceive to be 'dark talents', of which, if I recall, Parseltongue is one of. Draco and Blaise bore witness to a moment, which brought about a realization that Harry was a Parseltongue. They were there, they were not told. They were all then warned not to speak of it. It had nothing to do with keeping secrets from you, they were outright told not to mention it outside these walls. Not to you, not to us, not to one another."

"Given that Mr. Potter has apparently done as I asked him to do, I'm curious to know," Severus said, closing the door with dangerous silence behind him, "when the instructions given by a professor, one in charge of the education and well-being of the students of this school, suddenly became less important than Mr. Weasley's desire to know everything."

"I don't understand," Hermione whispered, twisting her fingers. "We wouldn't have told anyone!"

"That wasn't why we ordered their silence, Granger," Fallen told them, as Draco finally capitulated and allowed Blaise to help him to his feet.

Severus grabbed his godson by the shoulder and tilted his head, searching for any sign that the cobra had broken skin.

"Do you remember the dragon last year? You were only speaking to one another, but the information that Hagrid had a dragon egg was leaked to Katelyn regardless. If that was dangerous information, this could have ended up with Harry in Azkaban if attacks on muggle-borns continue."

Ron threw himself into an armchair, crossing his arms with a mutinous look on his face.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Severus drawled, gently pressing Draco onto the couch beside Harry, with Blaise pressing immediately into his other side. "For the blatant abuse of my furniture, Mr. Weasley."

Ron growled quietly but wisely said nothing.

"I believe, an additional five points should be sufficient, Mr. Potter, for disobeying my request not to out yourself to the entire student body."

"If I hadn't, Draco would be in the hospital wing or worse!" Harry protested, gaping at him.

Severus waved a hand toward the door, not mentioning the fact that Harry's act had likely saved Draco's life, but feeling that to reward the behavior, given what was going to come, was likely not wise.

"Do you have any idea what you've opened yourself up to, Potter?"

Harry swallowed, remembering the last conversation he'd had with the Valerians and Severus about his Parseltongue ability. "They're going to hate me," he whispered.

"They're certainly going to think you're the Heir of Slytherin," Yoko agreed. "Which will grant them a level of fear of you, particularly if attacks continue."

"But I'm not!" Harry cried, frustrated. "Why would I want to attack people?!"

"Come on," Ron said, leaning forward and waving at Hermione. "Look who he's friends with? No one'll believe he's attacking people."

"Logic will not prevail here, Ron," Yoko told them sadly.

"The unfortunate aspect of humanity, Mr. Potter, is that they are not ruled by logic in times of crisis, they are ruled by fear," Severus told him. "Logically you would be foolish indeed to go after muggle-borns, given your…choice, in friends."

Ron's face screwed up in frustration. "That's so stupid."

"Is it truly?" Fallen asked him. "You yourself are a prime example of it."

"I am not!"

"Look at your prejudice against Slytherins," Fallen told him. "Until last year, you'd never knowingly met a Slytherin, but you'd definitely hated Draco based your family's dislike of his, not because of any logic."

Ron subsided, sinking back into the armchair and crossing his arms angrily.

"I need you all to prepare yourself tonight," Yoko told them. "Do you remember how disliked you were last year when you lost those points for helping Hagrid?"

The group nodded slowly.

"Multiply it, and you'll have some idea of the kind of atmosphere you'll be waking up to in the morning."

XX

Yoko's warning, though he'd tried, didn't make a great deal of sense until Harry woke up the following morning.

Then it made a sad amount of sense.

If Harry had his way, the stares, whispers, and in serious cases sheer avoidance, would have driven Harry up into his dorm and he never would have come back down.

Thankfully, Harry didn't have his way.

In the following days, as the term slowly came to an end, Fallen woke Harry, sometimes by dragging him out of bed, and would then proceed to stare at him until he began his routine.

It was creepy and unnerving and entirely effective.

Harry was just thankful that Fallen didn't try to follow him into the bathroom when he went for a shower.

Toward the end of the first week, Yoko asked Fallen if he thought himself to be heavy-handed at all.

'No,' Fallen assured him grimly. 'Given the serious backslide he'd had once he realized Christmas was approaching, he has the judgment of the school with none of Tarana's protective rage to give him a barrier and he's feeling it now. I'm afraid that if I give him even a single day to wallow and sink into that depressive hole again, we'll never get him back out.'

Yoko watched Harry drag himself down the stairs. 'Do you think he might become too overwhelmed by what's happening here?' he asked the wolf.

Fallen looked down at him with sad but determined eyes. 'I can't rule that out,' he admitted. 'So, I'll be damned if I give him the chance.'

XX

Fallen's fears, while never voiced to the students he protected, appeared to have crossed several minds already.

During the school days, Harry's friends, regardless of their feelings on having been left out of the loop, circled and defended him against the whispers and rumors of the rest of their House and Ron even got a detention for threatening a Ravenclaw Third Year that hadn't been quiet enough when he'd asked his friend if he thought Harry would be attacking a Ravenclaw next.

Perhaps it was because of this defense, that when Harry got wind of a particular rumor, he didn't get depressed.

He got mad.

Fallen and Yoko had been aware of the rumor almost from the beginning.

It had gone from the rumor of how Harry had saved Draco's life from the cobra, but as is the nature of anything not heard firsthand, it quickly morphed into Harry having ordered it to attack him.

By the time Harry finally heard it, it had morphed a second and third time, to Harry having summoned the snake himself to attack Katelyn and it had mistakenly caught Draco in the crossfire; and the other that Harry had tried to impress Katelyn (or Lockhart, depending on the rumor) by summoning the snake and then losing control of it.

Regardless of which version of the rumor he heard, Harry would have long and enraged rants in the common room about how stupid the rest of the school was, to believe any of it was true!

Two days before term ended, the Gryffindors had gone to the library, in the hopes that Madam Pince's no-nonsense take on talking in the library would help Harry to focus on his last essay.

No such luck.

Though he was quiet about it, Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff in their year, wasn't quiet enough as he told his friends about Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff that Harry barely even knew hiding in his dorm to avoid Harry's potential wrath.

And then he brought up the night his parents died.

"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who," Macmillan pointed out to the group of Hufflepuffs hanging on his every word. "I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted to smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark Wizard could have survived a curse like that. Maybe he used his parents' deaths or something. And then this summer, with Tarana-"

Ron and Draco both had needed to wrestle Harry into his seat to avoid a scene that would result in detention or them being kicked out of the library-likely both.

The Hufflepuffs froze, apparently having just realized that the group was there.

Harry broke free of Ron and Draco's restraining grip and, with a vile glare in the Hufflepuff's direction, turned and left the library.

Once Harry had stormed off, Fallen and Draco in tow, Blaise slowly got to his feet and wandered toward the Hufflepuffs, and invited himself to the only free seat left at the table.

"First off, I think that was real low of you, Macmillan, to suggest that Harry used his parents and Tarana to cheat death," Blaise whispered, staring at the Hufflepuff.

"You can't tell me you haven't thought about it though," Macmillan hissed, glancing toward the door. "Come on, he speaks to snakes!"

"And what does that have to do with his parents dying?" Blaise asked bluntly. "It certainly wasn't because he was a Speaker that Dark and Arcana attacked his relatives this summer. You saw him and Tarana last year. If he had the power to survive death, don't you think he would have used it to save her, instead of himself?"

The Hufflepuffs shifted around the Gryffindor, embarrassed at having been called out on it.

Blaise nodded and got to his feet.

Instead of walking back toward his table, however, he circled the Hufflepuffs until he was behind Macmillan and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Just a warning," he breathed. "Harry may be a parselmouth, but that doesn't make him dark. He's been nothing but nice to a group of broken people who didn't deserve the care and attention he gave us. Harry may not be the Heir of Slytherin, and honestly, I don't particularly care who is, because they aren't the one currently getting hurt by people like you. Draco and me? We don't need the Chamber of Secrets or whatever creature Slytherin has inside it, to defend Harry, and trust me, we will. Capisce?"

Macmillan nodded.

Blaise patted him on the shoulder and went back to the table to gather his things.

Ron grinned viciously at him and patted him on the back. "Nice."

'I'm proud of you, sprite,' Yoko told him.

Blaise shrugged. "I'm really surprised I managed to do it at all."

'You're far more protective than you give yourself credit for, fire sprite,' Yoko told him, glancing at Ron and remembering how Blaise had stood up for Hermione against the redhead the year before.

"Come on, mate," Ron said, nudging Blaise's shoulder. "I think I'm all done studying for the day."

"You are not," Hermione hissed at him as they headed out of the library. "You still have two more homework assignments to finish!"

Blaise glanced over his shoulder at Ernie Macmillan and his friends and gave them a cheery wave with a far-from-pleasant smile.

XX

Draco had been wandering for a couple of minutes in search of his friend because as soon as they'd left the library there had been no sign of Harry.

"He must have started running as soon as he was out of Pince's view," Draco said, irritated.

Fallen had managed to get Harry's scent, but they didn't appear to be making any headway in finding the brunette.

"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK!"

Draco and Fallen turned to one another. "Is that Peeves?"

"NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE!"

"Shit," Fallen swore, darting down the hall toward where the poltergeist's voice was coming from, Draco on his tail. "Harry!"

"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

XX

The new attack was in a relatively traveled area, with classrooms up and down the two corridors it intersected.

As such, there was already a crowd of people when Draco and Fallen arrived, despite how close they'd apparently been when the cry had gone up.

McGonagall was close behind them and sent up a loud bang with her wand as she approached, silencing Peeves, who had moved on from screaming about the attack to mocking Harry about his presence there.

Once Fallen and Draco, who had wasted no time in shoving their way into the thick of the crowd, finally got to Harry's side, the boy had pressed himself as far away from the two victims and Peeves as he could get and was hyperventilating.

Fallen spun on Peeves with black eyes and the poltergeist was sent through at least three walls, if his wailing, which grew more muffled the more walls he went through, were any indication, while Draco turned his attention to Harry himself.

With Peeves' mocking voice no longer fueling the gawking students, Fallen turned his attention on them.

"Back up!" He barked, fur standing on end and the wind whipping around him like strands of ribbon. "Or I will make you. The boy is having a panic attack and you're all standing there like it's some sort of sideshow. BACK UP!"

"All of you return to your common rooms at once," McGonagall added sharply, planting herself firmly and fearlessly beside the wolf.

Several other professors were now joining McGonagall in the hall and were likewise firmly ushering their classes toward their common rooms and out of the hall.

Once she was sure that they had things well in hand, McGonagall turned her attention to the two victims.

"Oh, my…." She breathed.

Fallen let his Element fade as he took in the sight.

Peeves' screeching made sense now.

Lying in the hallway, were two victims.

One, Justin Finch-Fletchley, was lying on his back, rigid and cold, with a look of shock frozen on his petrified face.

The other was far more terrifying and equally as mystifying.

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington was hovering horizontally, nearly six inches off the floor, with his head hanging by that thumbnail of skin, and the same shock and horror on Justin's face written all over his own. Instead of the translucent pearl that normally made up Nearly Headless Nick's form, he was black and smokey, as though someone had set him on fire and covered him in ash and soot.

"Tell me you've heard of something like this, Fallen," McGonagall whispered, horrified.

'Never,' Fallen told her ominously. 'And that terrifies me more than you can possibly understand.'

McGonagall swallowed nervously, before drawing herself together and turning her back on Justin and Nick.

Draco had apparently had a little luck in coaxing Harry out of his panic attack, as the brunette was now breathing normally, clutching at Draco's hands tightly enough that both their knuckles were white.

Draco glanced at Fallen. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked him, now that Fallen had given him his attention and wasn't distracted by the other two victims. "Do you think he saw something?"

'I doubt it,' Fallen told him. 'Harry's first instinct has always been to defend and then to let the fear take over. If whatever had attacked these two was still here when Harry found them, someone would have heard him as he tried to defend them. No, I believe he simply felt the weight of the last few days on his shoulders, particularly once Peeves started screaming about the attack and then that stupid song.'

"What am I supposed to do?" Draco asked, turning back to Harry with a reassuring smile.

'Whatever you're doing is working fine,' Fallen assured him. 'Everyone who has panic attacks has different coping methods. Harry's responding to you. He trusts you to anchor him in the panic.'

Draco tilted his head. "Think we can get up off this floor yet, Harry?" he asked.

Harry flinched and Draco tightened his grip so Harry couldn't pull away.

"What happened, Fallen?" McGonagall asked quietly.

Fallen shook his head. 'I don't know. One of the Hufflepuffs made a comment about Her Highness and Harry's parents in the library and he took off. Draco and I were only behind him by a matter of minutes. He didn't have the time or the inclination, to do this.'

"I agree with you," McGonagall told him evenly. "Though I'm afraid this is out of my hands now."

Fallen sighed but nodded.

McGonagall stepped forward and, it said a great deal about what she'd learned or how much she was currently reading about the situation, that she crouched so she wasn't so far over Harry and kept herself behind Draco's shoulder as she did so. "Harry?"

Harry shook and Draco tightened his grip on Harry's hands. "Professor-"

"You're not in any trouble, Harry," McGonagall assured them both. "However, I'd like for Madam Pomfrey to look you over, and the Headmaster will have some questions for you about anything you might have seen."

Harry swallowed, but nodded and struggled to his feet without letting go of Draco's fingers.

"Harry! Draco!"

McGonagall straightened and any softness she might have felt for the panicking boy was packed neatly away as she stepped between the rest of Harry and Draco's friends, stopping them with a raised hand.

"All of you, back to your common rooms." She said firmly.

"We were just with them, Professor!" Hermione insisted. "They didn't do it!"

"Nothing has been decided," McGonagall said. "They are going to speak with the Headmaster and will return to the common room when he is through with them. You will return there now."

Blaise looked past their Head of House to Draco and Harry.

Draco glanced at Harry, who was shaking either in fear or in the aftermath of the adrenaline, before nodding.

XX

Yoko tilted his head as Fallen paused at the end of the corridor.

'This is possibly the cleanest attack,' Fallen told the fox. 'Though the children came from those two corridors, the professors took them back down only that one to get them back to their common rooms. I know this isn't your normal method of information gathering but see what you can find.'

Yoko snorted. 'Don't underestimate me,' he warned the wolf. 'I may not be a master at forensic gathering, but I'm not useless at it either.'

Fallen's lip curled before he turned and loped after the professor and her two charges.

XX

Yoko was eventually left alone in the corridor, though none of the Gryffindors went willingly, each wanting to stay and help to clear Harry's name.

Though the additional eyes and higher perspective might have been helpful, the fox remained firm.

\/\/\/

"Right now, Harry is not under investigation, he's merely a witness. Draco and Fallen couldn't have lost him long enough for him to have attacked either Finch-Fletchley or Nick, if they lost him at all. McGonagall already said that nothing had been decided. I will likewise likely be here a while and the Heads of House will likely be doing headcounts soon to make sure no one is missing. Go back to the Tower and wait for Harry, Draco, and Fallen."

Blaise was the last to turn away from his guardian.

'I'll be fine, sprite,' Yoko told him. 'I'll be putting up a physical barricade to prevent nosy idiots from trying to contaminate things any further, so I'll know when someone or something comes back. I'll see you back in the Tower.'

"Be safe, Yoko," Blaise told him.

'Always,' The Assassin told him.

/\/\/\

Yoko had learned a great deal over the summer of mostly captivity in the Moors and had discovered an aspect of his Element that he hadn't known before.

He had always known that the power of his Element could feed and maintain the plants he used in battle and that he could force his Element into the Earth to coax already seeded plants to do what he willed, but purely by accident, he had realized that he could lay his Element down like a bed of soil and 'plant', or 'seed', things in it that will grow and operate as long as he can keep that bed 'fertilized' with his Element, essentially ensuring that the bed of his Element never ran dry.

He put that new ability into practice now, creating 'beds' of power at the far ends of the three corridors that intersected the base of the stairs he stood beneath. From there, he layered out the entire stash he had of a particular hedge that grew in both abundance and strength around the Moors, being rather resistant to any attempts to trim or cut it without serious effort on the hedge trimmer's part.

The stash was only good for four or five plants, but once they took to Yoko's power, he spread the branches as far and as wide as he could, sometimes forcing the branches to entwine, creating a rudimentary fence out of them.

Being from the Moor, they weren't particularly pretty to look at, with dark leaves that really didn't cover the thick, thorny, and knotted branches beneath them. Even the berries, if one could call the deep purple fruit they bore berries, looked more poisonous than edible.

Once he was sure that he wasn't going to be interrupted, Yoko began by investigating the two victims themselves with all the attention to detail he usually put into planning an assassination strike.

Though Nick was the most difficult to get information off of, he is the one that Yoko spent the most amount of time on, trying to figure out how a ghost, which wasn't even the physical body of a deceased person, could end up being as petrified as the living person he'd been attacked with.

He found nothing.

There was no magic attached to the spirit, nothing physical dangling from the ectoplasmic form, nothing.

With the ghost being a dead end, Yoko turned his attention to Justin.

The boy was stiff as a board, making it exceedingly difficult for Yoko to get into every nook and cranny on the child, unlike Nick who had been floating above the ground, which gave him 360-degree access.

There was still a frustrating nothing on the human.

No scent jumped out at the fox, no scratch or bite that could indicate a type of venom or poison to induce the state he was in, though honestly, Yoko hadn't been expecting to find one. Something like that, Severus or Pomfrey would have found when they investigated Colin Creevey for the same.

When neither victim could give him anything to work with, Yoko put his nose to every crevice on the stone floor, and every stone brick as high on the walls as he could reach on his hind legs or hanging down from the broken window's ledge.

The fox was there for hours, though he wouldn't have known it.

The broken window and the gale of the wind from the blizzard that had been blowing outside all day had put out several of the torches in the corridor.

He had tilted his head, curiously, and ignored the attempt - the third by this hour of the night - to get the two victims removed from Yoko's barricade and down to the Hospital Wing when he found a trail of little spiders following a daddy long legs up the wall and toward the broken window, but had shaken his head and deduced that even if they did have something to do with the attack or the creature that perpetrated it, there was no way to get information from a spider, and with the weather outside being what it was, there was no way for anyone to follow them and figure out where they were going.

It was close to eleven when Yoko finally admitted defeat.

He retracted the hedges, reabsorbed his Elemental Beds, and watched as Flitwick levitated Nick and Justin down to the infirmary, where he was sure Poppy was calling him every creative name she could think of, without actually swearing about him.

Exhaling, Yoko turned to head back to the Tower, figuring that Fallen would be waiting there for him and keeping an eye on the children.

He was past his cordon line when he found it, completely by accident.

A solid black, broken scale snagged between two loose stone bricks on the corner.