Nothin' much to say here. The usual, we don't own, credit for canonical bits goes to JKR, as always. 2 more chapters here and then on to fifth year, which is exciting, it should be fun. Read and Review, pretty please?

Friends in Unexpected Places

May 29th, 1993

Fourth Year

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Lockhart followed Fawkes to McGonagall's office where Harry explained the whole thing to not only McGonagall but also Dumbledore and the Weasley's. Ginny was properly chastised about trusting an object that could think for itself when she couldn't see where it kept its brain. Ginny and Lockhart were escorted to the hospital wing by Ron and his parents, leaving Harry alone with Dumbledore.

"Professor, the Sorting Hat told me I'd've-I'd've done well in Slytherin, everyone thought I was Slytherin's Heir because-Because I can speak Parseltounge…"

"You can speak Parseltounge, Harry, because Voldemort-Salazar Slytherin's sole remaining descendant, his heir, speaks Parseltongue. Unless I am very much off my guess, the night Voldemort tried to kill you he-quite unintentionally-transferred some of his power to you."

"So I should be in Slytherin! The Hat could see that power in me and it-"

"Put you in Gryffindor."

"Only because I asked!"

"Exactly, Harry, it is our choices that determine who we are, far more than our abilities. If you desire more proof, perhaps you should look at this," Dumbledore handed him the sword, still covered in Basilisk blood. Harry carefully accepted it and by the light of the fire the blood accentuated the letters engraved in the blade, Godric Gryffindor. "Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that from the hat, Harry."

For a minute the only sound was the crackling of the fire, then Dumbledore pulled some parchment and ink from McGonagall's desk and declared that he needed to write Azkaban for the return of their Game Keeper, and to draft an ad for the Prophet regarding a new DADA teacher-they did go through them quickly, didn't they?

Tanking this as a dismissal Harry got up and crossed to the door. He had just reached for the handle when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall, nearly slamming into the face of the furious Lucius Malfoy. Cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

The man was positively fuming! Dobby was still trying to polish his shoes while Dumbledore informed Lucius that the other eleven school governors had contacted him upon hearing that the youngest Weasley was dead and demanded that he return to his post, that he was the best man for the job. The only man for the job. They claimed that Lucius had threatened to curse their families if they didn't suspend Dumbledore.

Harry distantly thought that Lucius looked like a blue-eyed white snake with his eyes slitted in fury at Dumbledore. "So — have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have," said Dumbledore, with a patient smile.

"Well?" said Lucius sharply. "Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius," said Dumbledore. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of an old diary."

"Well, where is it?"

"It's vanished," Dumbledore twinkled. Lucius pulled himself up to full height, looking mighty pleased. Dobby was doing something odd, he widened his green eyes meaningfully and kept jerking his head at his master, after each jerk of his head he punched himself in the nose. Dumbledore went on about how fortunate it was that Harry and Ron had discovered the diary and ventured into the Chamber to save Ginny.

"Fortunate indeed," Lucius hissed through clenched teeth and Harry suddenly understood. He nodded at Dobby, who backed into a corner, twisting his ears in punishment.

"Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" said Harry.

Lucius Malfoy rounded on him, "How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?"

"Because you gave it to her, in Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"

He saw Mr. Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench. "Prove it," he hissed.

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. "Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book, not to mention the disappearance of the book itself. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you."

Lucius turned on his heeled boots and kicked Dobby out the door, after a moment Harry followed, calling after them. "Mr. Malfoy! I've got something for you!" Lucius stopped and turned with a sneer and a slimy, sweaty, stinky sock collided with his face. He ripped it off with a snarl and Dobby caught it. "You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter," he said softly. "They were meddlesome fools, too. Let's go, Dobby." But Dobby didn't budge.

"Dobby is free," he whispered in utter wonder. "Master has given Dobby a sock," he said, louder. Then he cried gleefully, "Master has given Dobby clothes! Dobby is Free!"

Lucius snapped, he drew his wand and snarled, "You've cost me my servant, boy! AVADA-!"

"YOU SHALL NOT HARM HARRY POTTER!" Dobby yelled, leaping in the intended curse's path and with a loud bang, Draco's father was flung backward off his feet and rolled down the stairs, arse over teakettle. With another loud bang, Lucius slammed the hall door closed after him.

"Professor, I have another question," Harry said thoughtfully, as he reentered McGonagall's office with Dobby standing loyally by his knee.

"By all means, Harry, ask away."

"What did happen to the diary? I remember seeing feet and hearing voices, girl's voices. But they were gone when I woke up." Dumbledore stroked Fawkes as he waited for Harry's brain to stop spinning. "And Riddle was fighting with someone-someone who wasn't there."

Dumbledore twinkled at him, "Sometimes, Harry, it pays to have invisible friends where you least expect them."

Back in their dorm, the girls sat on Leili's bed slowly undressing each other to better inspect wounds inflicted by the not-ghost Riddle. "Owowowow…" Jo moaned as Leili helped her peel off her shirt. If they couldn't sleep, they might as well do something productive.

Leili gently poked and pressed at spots that would certainly become bruises, a charms book open beside her to the chapter on healing spells. "Tergeo," she cast, siphoning off the blood around various small cuts and then when the blood was gone and she could see, she cast, "Episky." Morgan sat in Jo's lap providing a comforting, loudly purring, warm, presence. "Ok, you're good, 'cept for the bruises, can't do anything about those."

"Your turn," Jo said and Leili put her wand on the bedside table while Jo now helped her pull off her own shirt.

"How did we get ourselves into this mess?" Leili lamented.

"Poor life choices," Jo told her as she poked and pressed on bruises that were already beginning to turn colors.

"Oh, is that all?" she chuckled. "Ow," she said pointedly.

"Sorry; you've got a bump on the back of your head."

"Probably from where I was thrown into the wall."

"Yeah, hold still. Episky!" The cut on the bump healed and the bump reduced a little, "You're going to have a headache."

"Curse you, poor life choices!"