AN: I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 7: The Writing on the Wall
Harry wanted to scream and yell at Madam Pomfrey for refusing to let him leave until he could see out of both eyes. The Oculus Potion tasted horrible as he drank it down and waited for his eyesight to return. Hermione, Ron, and Neville visited him while he waited. He told them everything that he'd learned from Dobby.
"Those Bludgers could have killed you!" Hermione gasped and looked him over.
"They wanted you bad, mate. The Bludgers just kept bouncing off the stone door over and over with a single-minded purpose," Ron said as he told his side of the story.
"I wonder if Dobby heard from Lucius about me when I humiliated Draco," Harry mused, trying to put a timeline to the events they knew. "I've got a rough idea of when things are happening but I don't know what the Chamber of Secrets is. It sounds familiar, but I can't remember where I read it."
"Hogwarts: A History," Hermione said after a few minutes. "I've left my copy at home but I'll bet the library has one. I remember reading something about the Slytherins."
"Salazar Slytherin was rumored to have built the Chamber of Secrets before leaving the castle during his dispute with the other founders," Harry said after a minute. Hermione jogged his memory when she said the book title. "I think that's what it said, anyway. We'll check the library before I go to Professor Dumbledore. He has to know about this!"
"I'll go check the library while you wait for Madam Pomfrey to clear you," Hermione announced and got up. She ran out of the Hospital Wing as Ron and Neville shared a look.
"You think it that serious? Could Dobby be pulling your leg, mate?" Ron asked after a minute.
"No, Dobby punished himself for every infraction against his Master's will," Neville interrupted. "Very old and powerful house-elf magic."
"You weren't there, Ron. He seemed to worship me for some reason. I haven't done anything for him or the house-elves though," Harry said with a sigh.
Two hours later, the four of them sat at a table in the library. "You were right, Harry," Hermione greeted as she passed him the book. "It was a rumor and no one has found it since the writing of the book some two hundred years ago."
"At least I have something concrete to go to Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall about now. I wonder if she'll believe me," Harry spat and sat back in his chair. "Detention starts tonight at eighteen-thirty."
"We'll take the week to focus on the coursework for this year to make sure we keep our grades up," Hermione consoled. "When are you going to try to talk to the Headmaster?"
"As soon as I get this copied onto a piece of parchment," Harry answered and took the book to Madam Pince to borrow for the day.
He found Professor McGonagall in her classroom grading papers twenty minutes later. "Professor, may I see the Headmaster now? I have enough evidence for both of you now I know who bewitched the Bludgers."
"You found this out while you were in the Hospital Wing?" Professor McGonagall questioned as she peered over her papers at him. "Sufficient evidence aside, the Headmaster is in America attending an International Confederation of Wizards conference. Albus is the Supreme Mugwump and must attend all major meetings. He will be gone until the middle of the week."
Harry sighed and shook his head. He realized the Headmaster had a lot of demands on his time, but he still hoped Dumbledore would have time to listen to his worries and fears. "Thanks, professor," he said and turned to leave.
"You could tell me, Mr. Potter. I am the Deputy Headmistress," Professor McGonagall called to him. "I'm very interested in anyone who wants to bewitch a Bludger to attack another student."
Harry turned and shrugged. "Not a student, a house-elf trying to save me from whatever will happen at Hogwarts, professor. The same house-elf that blocked the barrier at King's Cross and is terrified of me being at Hogwarts this year," he said in an off-hand way as he turned back around.
"A house-elf? A house-elf bewitched the Bludgers to attack you… to save you? I think you need to take a seat and explain," the stern witch said as she put her papers down. She looked at Harry's face and crossed her hands on her desk.
Harry sat down and told the professor everything he knew and had found out during the year. From his first meeting with Dobby, to the encounter with Mr. Malfoy at Diagon Alley, and ending with the house-elf's confession of why he set the Bludgers on Harry. Once he started, he found he couldn't stop. Professor McGonagall did not move or interrupt him as he told his story.
"You said Dobby mentioned the Chamber of Secrets? Are you sure?" the professor asked in a tight voice.
"I don't remember exactly what he said but he mentioned the Chamber, yes. We looked it up. Salazar Slytherin was rumored to have built the chamber before he left Hogwarts and left a 'horror within' behind to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic. Hogwarts: A History didn't go into a lot of detail after that."
"Did Dobby say who, how, or what would open the Chamber?" Professor McGonagall asked in a sharp voice. "Try to remember, it could be important."
"No, I think he was going to say the Chamber of Secrets would hurt the Headmaster in some way. I don't know if it meant physically or politically. Remember when I said Mr. Malfoy was trying to gain power with the governors?"
"I'm very interested in how you obtained that little bit of information," the professor mused with a tight smile. "We Heads of Houses talk and it didn't escape my notice that after Draco was humiliated, his position within the Slytherin hierarchy plummeted. Severus commented on the suspicious rise of two other Slytherin future candidates for Heir-Apparent."
Harry shrugged and kept his face blank. "I don't know about the Slytherin hierarchy other than what I've read about in books. I'm just looking at the facts I know and speculating on what I suspect."
Professor McGonagall hummed as she eyed Harry. "Thank you for placing your trust in me by telling me your suspicions. I am not dismissing your observations or the fact you were hurt when I say this, but there could be more going on than you realize. Dobby could be a misdirection or simply mad. It is not uncommon for a house-elf to be driven to insanity because of wizards."
Harry sighed but nodded. "I've had the same questions. Providence taught us to look at all possible scenarios given. There are numerous examples of deception in war that led to overwhelming victories. If Dobby is a red herring, however dangerous he's proven to be, then I hate to think what the real threat is."
Professor McGonagall frowned at him and sat forward in her chair. "That is a remarkably astute observation, however, you are a twelve-year-old boy and shouldn't have enemies like that. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named does not count," she said to interrupt Harry's rebuttal.
"We'll see," Harry muttered, the ball of nerves in his stomach refused to loosen by talking to Professor McGonagall.
"I will inform the Headmaster of your troubles. Rest and recuperate from this incident. How are you and Hermione coming along with the list I gave you?" Professor McGonagall asked as Harry stood.
He froze and looked over the stern witch's face. The conflicting stern demeanor and deep concern the professor displayed confused him on a regular basis. "We're coming along," he hedged after thinking it over. Hermione would flay him with a butter knife if he said they were doing well only to be unable to match the professor's expectations. It was obvious she valued Professor McGonagall's approval as much as she had Professor Flitwick's the year before.
"Continue to work hard and stay out of trouble, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said with a slim smile.
Harry returned to his friends and told them about his conversation with the professor. "I just wish I could tell Dumbledore myself," he said as he slapped his fist on the table.
Ron looked up and gave him a quizzical look. "Mate, just send him a letter with Hedwig," he said with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm an idiot," Harry sighed and banged his head on the table over and over.
"While I won't disagree with you… doesn't that hurt?" Neville asked with a small smile.
"Yes, that's the point," Harry shot back and rubbed his forehead. "I'll go write a letter now!"
"You may want to get Hedwig some treats. You've neglected her," Hermione supplied with a small grin.
Harry groaned, knowing his friend was right. He'd visited Hedwig twice every week last term but hadn't seen her once so far. "I'll, uh… find something nice for her," he muttered as he wandered off toward the kitchens.
Hedwig ignored him for ten minutes despite his apologies. He finally tempted his angry owl over to him with the promise of three treats and to visit her three times a week. The snowy white owl hooted at him and nipped his fingers as a last show of protest when she took the treats. Harry gently petted his owl, marveling at Hedwig's soft feathers.
"I have a letter for Professor Dumbledore, but I understand if you don't want to take it," he said as Hedwig spun her head around to look at him. He had the feeling she was weighing his words before answering in her own way.
Hedwig nipped his finger gently and raised her foot a moment later. She flapped her wings at him as if to tell Harry to hurry up. Harry took out the letter and tied it to Hedwig's leg. He pet her for a few more minutes before she shook her wings, buffeting him away. Hedwig spread her wings wide and took off with a burst of speed. Harry watched as the white dot over the forest disappeared into the bright sky.
"Glad you didn't try out of the team if you fall off your broom, Potter," Cormac yelled from the other side of the common room.
"I'd like to see you get away from two bewitched Bludgers," Harry shot back as he headed for the portrait hole.
"A likely story for a liar. You and those Weasley blighters came up with the lie."
"Go back to polishing your broom, Cormac," Harry shot back as he left the common room.
Cormac wasn't the only person to believe that he fell off his broom. While he had fallen off his broom, it was because a Bludger broke his hip. Malfoy played up Harry's incompetence every time he could bring it up in a conversation. Many of the Gryffindors didn't believe the malicious rumor, but many of the rest of the students did. Some jeered at him while others offered their sympathies for his accident.
"Don't let them bother you, Harry," George said at lunch.
"Oh, I don't care what they think. I've been thinking about some other things is all," Harry answered with a shrug. "They weren't there and didn't have to fly for their lives. It might be amusing to watch them try."
"No, it wouldn't," Fred responded with a hollow laugh. "Harry, you should have been on the team. Sorry Ron, but I don't think any of us on the team could have performed half as well as Harry did."
"No, I agree," Ron said with a sigh. "Harry it was horrifying and awe-inspiring. You're a genius on a broom, mate. Just don't go taking my position before I can at least play one game," he said with a nervous chuckle.
"Ron, the position is yours. I'm working on what I want to. Frankly, I'm not leaving the ground again until I'm sure no more Bludgers will come after me."
"Does this mean I get to use your broom?" Angelina said as she sat beside Harry. "We believe you," she said as she pointed to herself and the other two Gryffindor Chasers farther up the table. Alicia and Katie waved to Harry. "Madam Hooch checked over every Bludger, Quaffle, and Snitch in the castle to make sure nothing else was tampered with. She was livid."
"Thanks and if you think it will help, sure, I don't mind the team using my broom," Harry answered.
"You don't know how much that means to us," a deep voice said as Wood plopped down on the bench beside Ron. "Bad news… Draco Malfoy is the Slytherin Seeker now. Higgs was replaced last night by Malfoy. It was a public and disgusting display of wealth and power. Lucius Malfoy bought the entire Slytherin team Nimbus 2001s."
"What!"
"Bloody Hell,"
"You're joking!"
The Gryffindors yelled their disbelief and anger to Wood's words. "Two key positions having Nimbus 2001s will help our team offset the speed difference. Our players are loads better than the Slytherins, but a good broom can offset skill sometimes."
Draco strutted around for the rest of the day talking loudly about his new appointment as the Slytherin Seeker. Harry ignored him but Ron seemed to take it as a personal insult. "I've got detention with Professor Snape tonight and have class with him first thing tomorrow," Harry groaned and closed his book. "Hermione, I know you said we should take the week off but how about study sessions before breakfast and during lunch?"
"I'm still not happy with you," Hermione spat but sat straighter in her chair. "Seven days of detention and seven subjects we could work on. We'll ignore History of Magic and Astronomy. Potions takes too long to brew. So, four review classes. Charms and Defense in the morning and Transfiguration and Herbology at lunch, then?"
"Works for me," Harry answered with a shrug. He pulled out his enchanted flashcards. "I'm not looking forward to History of Magic," he admitted.
"It isn't so bad," Hermione answered with a grin. "Let us know how your detention goes tomorrow."
Professor Snape was waiting for him in his classroom. The hook-nosed professor sneered at Harry as he pointed to a stack of cauldrons in the corner. Harry nodded and pulled out his Dragon-hide gloves to protect his hands while he scrubbed the cauldrons clean. He almost laughed aloud when he realized the gloves would have protected his hand from Norbert's nip the year before. The smell of charred Flubberworms wafted up from the cauldron, making him cough and wrinkle his nose.
"What potion failed in that cauldron you're cleaning?" a sharp voice called from behind Harry.
When he looked up, he met Professor Snape's dark eyes glaring at him. He was about to speak when the Potion's Master spoke again. "You have one chance to answer correctly. Incorrect answers will add more time to your detentions. Correct answers will lessen the time. I can't be bothered to have you in my class longer than I have to."
Harry felt the hair on his neck prickle as an excited feeling bubbled up in his stomach. "One moment, professor," he said and turned back to the cauldron. He made sure to keep cleaning but focused hard on the question. Professor Snape was not known for his patience. "Cure for Boils, sir," he answered after a minute. He spotted partially dissolved snake fangs crusted to the edge of the cauldron.
"Valerian sprigs can be used in medicine. What is the method of extraction for the Fire-Breathing Potion?" Professor Snape questioned without telling Harry if he was correct or not.
"Crushing the sprigs to drain the oil out of the roots. After draining, clean off remove any leftover oil because the oil will dilute the Fire Seeds' potency. The crushed root helps the lavender act as a soothing agent for the throat," Harry answered after a moment. The Fire-Breathing Potion was advanced and dangerous to brew because of how volatile it was even after the brewing process was complete.
"I give you six snake fangs, four standard measures of Standard Ingredient, six Billywig stings, and two sprigs of Wolfsbane. What do I expect you to brew?"
Harry felt the sweat pour down his face as he tried to focus on cleaning the cauldrons and answer the Potion Master's question. He wasn't sure why he kept answering to the best of his ability, but he was loathed to stop. Professor Snape never stopped asking questions and if Harry took too long he would ask another question in a terse tone.
The questions continued non-stop until the Potions Master stood up from behind his desk. "Detention is over, clean up and return here tomorrow. You've removed one day's worth of detention. That day will be Wednesday."
"Yes, sir," Harry answered and finished cleaning the cauldron he was working on. He wanted to ask how many he'd gotten right and wrong so badly it burned his tongue. His lip bleed from biting it too hard, he left the classroom without speaking. He knew how intelligent the professor was and wondered if the real detention was Harry's desire to know if he was right.
The next morning in Potions, Professor Snape berated Harry for any minor mistakes he made while preparing ingredients for the first-year class. The professor lectured while requiring the class to take notes and cut up Pungous Onions and grind ginger root into a fine powder. He required the class to cut the onions in fine, even slivers before setting them aside. Professor Snape interrupted his lectures multiple times to chastise Harry and Hermione in particular on their knife-work. He made Harry switch pestles with Ron as the class ground the ginger root into a finer powder. Hermione was forced to switch with Neville.
"Snape was horrible today!" Ron complained as they walked to Herbology.
"Your powdered ginger was a lot finer than mine was, Hermione," Neville consoled the red-eyed girl. Hermione silently cried after Professor Snape emptied her pestle and picked out a small lump of ginger before telling her to do it all over again.
Harry kept his thoughts to himself as he patted Hermione on the back. He debated telling his friends what he suspected but wasn't sure even he believed his theory. Professor Snape was not known for his friendly attitude toward Gryffindors, but he had no reason to bully Harry or Hermione. Ron complained all afternoon about the Potions Master and the Slytherins in general.
"Harry! Come on up here and show the class your best troll impression," Lockhart called out during the middle of his story about one of his books.
Harry felt his eye twitch as he gripped his wand under his robes. He knew his temper was getting the better of him, but he'd learned nothing in the class so far. It galled him to sit in the class and have to look interested or face Lockhart's summons to the front of the class. He was used as a prop in almost every lesson while the beaming buffoon babbled on about his achievements. Hermione and many others lapped up the handsome wizard's monologues with wide, adoring eyes.
When told to act like a troll, Harry gave the class his best impression of Gilderoy Lockhart's smile. "Oh, no my boy, you need to be the troll. An excellent smile, not good enough to win Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award I'm afraid," Lockhart said and flashed him a sparkling smile.
The urge to curse the professor grew as Harry tried to smile back. He imagined it might look like a pained grimace or a wolf bearing its teeth. "A troll it is, sir," he said and grunted unintelligible sounds. He wished he knew how to cast a charm to make the class smell like a Dungbomb went off to emphasize the performance.
"You're going to miss Charms Club this week," Hermione said with a sigh. "We're just going over plant growth charms so you won't miss much, I suppose," she muttered with a shrug. "I might just stay in the common room and review."
"You could always take the day to rest," Harry said as he finished the last paragraph on his three-foot essay for History of Magic. The essay lengths required increased significantly from the previous year. It meant the students had to add more information on history, theory, and any practical applications that might be relevant for each assignment.
"I can while reviewing," Hermione shot back with a grin. "Ready to head off to detention?"
"We'll see how tonight goes," he answered as he looked around the common room. Ginny sat in the corner writing in a black book with a bright smile on her face. Her Transfiguration book lay open beside her and a blank parchment lay on the floor. Fred and George were talking to Lee Jordan about Gilderoy Lockhart's latest spectacular failure in one of his classes. The professor tried to show off a Self-Clean Charm on his robes and managed to Vanish his robes entirely.
"Ron will be back at some point soon," Harry said into the silence as he put his things away.
"He's been working hard," Neville sighed as he sat down in the chair Harry vacated a moment before. "How did the homework go?" he asked as he opened his school bag.
"Harry finished the History of Magic essay and I'm working on Potions. What do you have left?" Hermione asked with a smile.
"History of Magic, Potions, and Transfiguration," Neville answered and looked around. "Why aren't we using the Study Classroom? It's so loud in here," he asked with a grimace toward a group of Gryffindors playing exploding snap in an alcove by the fire.
"We can go if you'd like to before dinner. Harry is about to leave for detention," Hermione said with a snort. She shot Harry a pointed look.
"Only a few days left," Harry said with a grin. He hadn't told his friends that he was almost looking forward to his detention to see if Professor Snape quizzed him again. The Potions Master's attitude intrigued and worried him. He had no doubt Professor Snape still hated him.
"Potter, you meager skills shown in class today has made me realize how far behind you really are. You lack the finesse and knowledge required for Potions to pass any O.W.L. exam you might attempt. The first and third-year students are working through the prepared stock of ingredients at alarming rates. Your pathetic attempts this morning did little to renew the low stores. Instead of cleaning cauldrons, you will prepare the items on this list," Professor Snape said with a sneer. He flicked his wand and made a long parchment fly over to the desk beside Harry. Another flick of his wand sent seven large glass jars of ingredients. All the jars were close to empty.
"Go grab a knife from the storeroom and the necessary ingredients, now!"
Harry nodded and went to the ingredient supply closet and retrieved everything he would need. He read over the list twice before starting to dice, slice, crush, and powder the required ingredients. After five minutes of dicing the fluxweed, Professor Snape rose from his chair. "You chop at the fluxweed as if you were a troll. By Merlin you are a dunderhead," he sneered and walked over to Harry's desk. A sliver knife flashed and appeared in the professor's hand. He snatched up a fluxweed stem and sliced through the hard stem with fast, precise cuts. Every cut removed a millimeter of the green stem. Harry watched, amazed at the Potion Master's skill and technique.
"For every stem you fail to produce this fine a cut on, you will add more time to your detention," Professor Snape growled. "Do not waste my ingredients because of your incompetence."
Harry gulped, wishing the professor would ask him questions instead of setting him a task he couldn't possibly get right. The Potions Master stood in front of his desk as he attempted to cut the fluxweed stem into millimeter-sized pieces.
"Failure," Professor Snape sneered and waved his wand. The pile of diced fluxweed disappeared in a flash of fire. The smell of burnt grass filled the room. "Again!"
"You look awful this morning, Harry," Hermione commented at breakfast.
Harry didn't want to tell his friend he'd added two more days to his detention because of his constant failures. Logically, he knew it was only one more day but it didn't make him feel any better. His mind wandered in Transfiguration as the class worked on turning beetles into buttons. Double Charms was boring for him as the class worked on the Shrinking Charm. He acted like he paid attention while imagining himself cutting ingredients in precise, even strokes. His fingers itched to use a knife to practice what he was imagining. In his last class, History of Magic, he used the knife he stole in the Great Hall at lunch to practice what he'd been visualizing all day. He practiced slow, even strokes while using his fingers to inch a parchment across the desk and using his knuckle as a guard from the blade.
"What are you doing?" Hermione hissed at him halfway through the lesson.
"Practicing," he muttered back as he continued his rhythm. Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. He noticed her eyes didn't leave his hands for a time.
Professor Snape switched up the punishment for every detention Harry had with him. The day after he cut ingredients, he had to grind ginger roots and sage. When Harry focused on the grinding technique he'd been shown during classes the next day, the Potions Master changed it up again. Harry had to answer harder questions while measuring exact portions of ingredients into small vials. The amount of time he had to do detention fluctuated with each day. One day he would gain back time and the next he would be penalized with more detention.
By the end of the week, Harry felt like he'd run a mental marathon. Professor Snape sneered at him on Saturday and warned him not to get involved with Slytherin politics again. Harry thanked the professor for taking the time to instruct his detention, earning him a piercing glower in response.
"Harry there are two weeks left until Halloween!" Hermione fretted on Sunday morning. She bit her lip and read the flashcard. "Carpe Retractum," she said and tapped the orange card with her wand. The words disappeared before a new question wrote itself on the card.
"What do you think? Should we push harder for more information or solidify what we know?" Harry questioned as he read his red flashcard. "The Lapifors Spell," he said and tapped the card with his wand. "What is the incantation for the spell that turns cats into cauldrons?" he muttered to himself and bit his lip. "Fel… Fel… Felifors," he answered and tapped the card.
"I don't know," Hermione fretted and answered the next question on her card.
"Why don't you both stow it and enjoy the day?" Ron muttered into the silent classroom.
"We're so close, Ron!" Hermione scolded and glared at him. "You should be studying too! I saw what you tried to turn into Professor McGonagall."
"I was in a rush," Ron answered with a flushed face. "Fred and George were working with me on my broom-work."
"Excited for your first match after Halloween?" Harry asked after he answered another question.
"We will crush those Slytherins even if they have better brooms!" Ron declared with a fierce grin. "Malfoy won't know what hit him."
Harry chuckled and looked at Neville who was writing an essay. "Are the flashcards we came up with helping at all?" He and Hermione worked on a list of review questions to memorize between classes during the week of Harry's detention. After enchanting a flashcard for each class, they gave them to Neville and Ron to use if they wanted. Harry didn't try and push Ron as hard as he had last year, knowing he'd be wasting his breath on his Quidditch-obsessed friend. Neville thanked them both with a nervous smile.
"Thank you, again," Neville muttered as his eyes scanned over the black flashcard. Harry felt a little bad for not spending as much time with Neville as he had before. While Neville spent much of his time in the greenhouse, Harry and Hermione pushed each other harder and harder, sometimes tuning out their friends.
"You know I don't mind helping. If you do need anything, please let me know," Harry said to his friend and meant it. He would drop whatever he was doing to try and help if possible.
"You could help me fly better," Ron said with a laugh.
"We can't get you off your broom for ten minutes as it is, Ron," Hermione shot back with a laugh.
Hedwig returned with a note from Professor Dumbledore. He thanked Harry for the warning and asked to see him the day after Halloween so they could discuss his worries in more detail. The International Confederation of Wizards remained locked in a heated debate on the regulation of Flying Carpets and which countries would continue to ban them. Harry felt it sounded like a dull debate to sit through.
Hermione suggested they should start eating all their meals in the Study Classroom so they could work and eat at the same time. Harry caught Hermione dozing off in a History of Magic class and debated if he should let her sleep or wake her. He knew either option would make his friend angry, but decided to let her sleep and closed his eyes to pretend to be asleep too. She scolded him for falling asleep in class when Ron woke them both with a laugh.
"The bags under your eyes have bags," Neville commented as he sat down on one of the couches. Harry knicked a few more desks from another classroom to transfigure a sofa for them to rest on. It took him four hours to get the spell right, but it was worth it to have a soft place to stretch out on while he read.
"We'll lay off some after Halloween," Harry promised and looked over at Hermione. Her hair was a mess and she hadn't changed her shirt in two days. The prospect of disappointing Professor McGonagall drove his friend harder.
"I'll hold you to it. I'm getting worried," Neville said in a low whisper. "You have to know you're miles ahead of the rest of us," he said with a frown. "Why do you two push yourselves so hard?"
"For Hermione, I think it's the possibility of disappointing someone she respects and idolizes. For me, I love learning magic and potions. I couldn't care less about what the stars say, the history of wizards, or anything like that. I'll learn it and some of it is interesting, but I love magic. Watching Professor Dumbledore conjure a chair in front of me out of thin air was amazing and left a lasting impression. Another thing is Voldemort. He's still alive, barely, but he keeps trying to gain power. I have a feeling he won't wait for me to learn magic before finishing the job. I know I wouldn't if I were in his position."
Neville shuddered and nodded. "Just don't kill yourself trying to get stronger or something. Bet He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would love that," he joked with a wry grin. "You two coming down to the Halloween feast later?"
"We'll be along after we finish the last bit of research on the Exploding Charm. Both of us are having trouble controlling the spell like the books says. We should be able to make a stone ball explode but leave the platform intact. She and I both keep destroying both," Harry said while rubbing his neck.
"What classes have you guys worked on?" Neville asked as he picked up a copy of the required list off the table. Harry and Hermione had copies of Professor McGonagall's list attached to walls of each of the partitions and on the door so they would see it when they left.
"Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic," Harry said after a minute. "We put off Potions and Herbology until after Halloween."
"How far have you gotten in those classes?"
Harry coughed and looked away. "We've made good progress but there is a difference between being exposed to information and being able to master it and use it. I know about almost everything on the list from our study so far, but I wouldn't feel confident in passing a test. We aren't geniuses."
"You might as well be," Neville muttered with a sigh.
"We work hard, there is a difference. A genius would be able to learn the information a lot faster than we have. The concepts, math, and understanding of… well, everything is getting harder and harder. The Exploding Charm isn't about waving your wand and expecting something to blow up. What is the object you wish to destroy? How is it formed, made, or constructed? What is the best way to complete your goal?" Harry rattled off. "It is less about power and more about control when you get into the third and fourth-grade spells. I can't imagine right now how hard the fifth, sixth, and seventh-year spells will be. The Extension Charm makes my head hurt and Mr. Weasley struggled with it three times out of four."
"That sounds… hard," Neville muttered looking down at his wand clutched in his hand.
"Yes and at the same time no. Once you understand the concepts it becomes easier with practice. My first time using the Exploding Charm made the dummy shoot shards of rock at us but there was little damage on the actual dummy. I didn't understand that forcing power into the spell could cause more problems. Now, I know a controlled explosion will do far more damage than throwing my power around. More importantly, I have the experience to understand how to manipulate the spell to do what I want it to after tons of attempts."
Ron and Neville left for the Halloween feast early. Ron drew Neville into a heated debate about which classes weren't really necessary for life after Hogwarts. The redhead said Herbology, Astronomy, and History of Magic were all classes they could remove so he could practice Quidditch more. Neville became indignant and argued that his favorite class was important. They left the room, still arguing about how Potions wouldn't be a class without Herbology.
"What do you want to do?" Harry asked a little bit later. "The feast will have started. Do you want to just stay here or head down? I'm fine with either one. Halloween doesn't do much for me anyway."
"Ron mentioned your nightmares came back last week," Hermione said as she looked up from a long bit of parchment on Exploding Charm theories they'd worked on the previous day.
"It's fine. I just hate this time of year," he answered with a shrug. "So, feast or am I doing a kitchen run?"
"We might as well go down," Hermione answered after a minute or two. "My head is starting to hurt from reading this over and over. Why did you have to write in such small handwriting?"
"Me? I sent Hedwig off to get magnifying glasses to read your writing," Harry joked and put his things away. He locked their belongings in a side-table with a charm.
"Have you looked into a new classroom? Madam Pince got short with me today when I asked for another book to borrow," Hermione questioned as they left the classroom and ensured the door stayed charm-locked.
Harry noticed all of his charms and transfigured objects tended to return to normal after a while. He didn't know if it was the house-elves fixing his work or if the castle countered his magic. The castle was alive with magic, he was sure of it. "I forgot to ask Fred and George on their progress. They are probably laughing and waiting for me to ask again," he muttered. He knew what the twins wanted but couldn't give it to them.
They walked toward the Great Hall and talked about the pros and cons of moving the Study Classroom. In a lapse in silence, Harry thought Hermione said something under her breath. "It's okay to curse at me, but what did you say? I want to laugh too," he shot back with a grin.
"What? I didn't say anything?" Hermione said and looked up with a confused expression.
"You didn't say you wanted to kill me?" he questioned with a grin. "Not that I blame you. I can be a right prat sometimes."
"No?!" Hermione answered coming to a stop. "Are you okay, Harry?"
"There it was again," Harry muttered and looked down a darkened corridor. He frowned as he realized the corridor led to a double flight of stairs leading down to the dungeons. A weight in his right hand made him realize he'd pulled his wand at some point. "I must be going crazy. I thought I heard kill and Mudblood."
"I didn't hear anything," Hermione said, peering closer at him and looking between him and the corridor. "Are you feeling… okay? I know we haven't been getting a lot of sleep."
"I'm fine, I must be imagining things. Still…" he said before trailing off. With a shrug, he went to put away his wand when he felt a prickle in his head around his scar. It set off warning bells of his time with Quirrell. "Hermione, go find a professor! I might be crazy, but this is real," he ordered and started off toward the corridor.
"What? What's real? Harry!" Hermione called as Harry broke into a run.
Harry turned the corridor, his wand raised. He could almost feel something invisible tugging at his stomach. Fear gave strength to his legs as he listened harder. The muffled hissing seemed to come closer and moved away at the same time. He couldn't figure out why he'd heard the voice above him and then a moment later on the floor below him. "Lumos Maxima!" he yelled, sending a bright light flying ahead of him.
He'd realized most of the torches had gone out so he cast the stronger version of the Wand-Lighting Charm to see the path ahead. His spell hit an intersecting corridor far ahead of him. The white latched to the wall and lit the area up in a bright light. Two contorted forms lay across the corridor, their eyes wide and looks of horror distorting their faces. Nearly-Headless Nick and Peeves the Poltergeist stared into nothing as their corporeal bodies lay across each other on the floor. Harry gasped when he realized the two ghosts could be touched. He tried to move Sir Nicholas' head to see where the ghost was looking when he heard a soft crack. Harry felt bile rise to his throat when he realized he'd accidentally beheaded Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpinton. He set the ghost's head down and backed away.
"Beheading ghosts is worth our attention, Potter?" a sneering voice called from behind him. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall stood at the end of the hall. He hadn't realized how long he was standing there and inspecting the corporeal ghosts.
"No, they were like this already. I… uh… accidentally took Sir Nick's head off," Harry muttered and gestured to the two inert ghosts. "They look like they've seen something horrible."
"What did you," Professor McGonagall started but Harry cut her off.
"The voice! This way!" he cried and ran off toward the end of the corridor. He heard three people behind him as he turned the corner. Water covered the floor, causing him to slip and slide into the wall. A figure was hunched over the water near an open door up the hall.
"Argus!" Professor McGonagall called and stepped around Harry. Her wand raised high she cast a spell down the corridor. A bright light flashed from her wand, causing her to freeze. "No humans are near," she gasped.
"He is dead then?" Professor Snape questioned and flanked Professor McGonagall. "Lumos Maxima," he said in a low voice. A bright light hung over the inert form of Argus Filch. Water was all over the hall, coming from the open door beside the caretaker.
"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Professor McGonagall said after a moment. "She'll have caused the water with one of her tantrums."
"I will go first," Professor Snape announced and started forward. "Potter, stay behind and warn us if you hear any more strange voices only you can hear," he spat and strode through the water.
It was then Harry realized something. "Professors, the portraits… they're… dead… they're all dead."
Both professors froze and looked at the four portraits lining the walls. Two witches were slumped over in their chairs, tea spilled across the silk tablecloth between them. An old, irascible warlock lay spread eagle on the snowy landscape of his portrait. The last two portraits displayed their occupants slumped over in the chairs they were sitting on. You could only see the fuzzy slippers of the person in the last portrait. All the portraits had a dim, gray cast to the portrait.
"The magic is fading," Professor McGonagall gasped. "They are all truly dead."
"Retreat for now," Professor Snape ordered. "There is nothing more we can do here until Albus arrives."
"I am here now, Severus," a calm voice called from behind them.
Albus Dumbledore strode up the hall, his wand drawn and his eyes roaming over the scene in front of him. "Hermione Granger's intelligent use of the Sending Spell reached me as well," he explained and drew closer to the scene. "Unfortunately, now the whole school knows something happened tonight."
"We were discussing matters when her spell reached us," Professor McGonagall explained as she glanced at Harry. "Albus, the portraits are fading."
"Yes, I see that. A horrible fate for those poor fragments. I think… I will go first to see what has become of our caretaker."
Dumbledore strode through the puddled water without making a ripple or sound. Harry thought the Headmaster might have cast a non-verbal spell to walk on the water. Dumbledore reached Mr. Filch and bent down. He kept his wand raised, pointing to a space between the open bathroom door and the darkened corridor ahead of them. His wand flicked and all the torches along the walls burned brighter. Harry squinted his eyes to see through the bright light hitting his eyes.
"He is alive but petrified," Dumbledore's voice called from up the corridor.
Professor McGonagall released a puff of air as she deflated a little. "Thank Merlin," she muttered.
"Minerva, please head down to the Great Hall. Ensure it is locked down and Professors are sent to their common rooms to ensure all students are accounted for," the Headmaster instructed before turning to Professor Snape. "Severus, I must ask you to take Argus, Peeves, and Sir Nicholas to the Hospital Wing so we can keep them contained in case this is an outbreak of some sort. I will inspect the area and follow shortly with the portraits and Harry."
Professor Snape nodded and went back up the corridor to where they left the bodies of the two ghosts. Harry noticed the professor didn't put away his wand and kept moving his head in slow, sweeping motions. He turned back to the Headmaster and waited to one side. His eyes were drawn to the fading images in the portraits. The gray film that had seemed to cover the portraits grew darker as the images distorted.
"Portraits are not truly alive, but they are not dead either. These poor souls were a fragment of memory. Encased in a frame for eternity," Professor Dumbledore said a moment later. The Headmaster appeared in the bathroom door with a troubled look on his face. "Moaning Myrtle saw nothing. A young student made fun of her and made the temperamental ghost flood the bathroom in retaliation."
"Why would you make fun of a ghost?" Harry questioned.
"Many reasons, but that is not important at the moment. I must ask you to follow me for a time to ensure we are safe… for the moment," Dumbledore asked moving his wand higher.
Harry recognized the dueling stance from one of his books. "I heard a faint voice near the other end of the castle. Hermione and I made it down one of the back stairs near the Gryffindor Tower to the second floor. I heard it there."
"The other side of the castle you say?" the Headmaster questioned as he walked down the corridor. Harry followed and looked around the corridors. They walked through the corridors for thirty minutes before returning to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Harry spoke little, trying to listen as hard as he could for the mysterious voice. "Follow for a little longer please, Harry," Dumbledore instructed as he waved his wand over the now blackened portraits. All four portraits floated off the wall and floated toward Dumbledore.
"Writing!" Harry gasped as he stared, wide-eyed at the writing on the wall. "Enemies of the Heir… Beware!… The Chamber of Secrets… is open once more," he read aloud. The words were hidden behind the portraits and written in a dripping red substance.
"Dramatic," Professor Dumbledore said in a calm voice.
"What is this? Destroyed portraits, frozen ghosts, and cursed caretakers," a pompous voice called as the Hospital Wing doors burst open. Gilderoy Lockhart strode into the room with a beaming smile. "I heard about an attack like this in Georgia. A mountain village was attacked by a marauding band of rogue wizards. I helped…"
"Gilderoy, please, this is a Hospital Wing," Madam Pomfrey scolded, cutting off the boasting professor.
Harry sat on the bed by the head of Sir Nicholas, explaining what he'd seen to Madam Pomfrey. She was startled and amazed that Harry removed the ghost's head.
"Harry, I believe it is time to retire. Would you come with me once more?" the Headmaster called as Lockhart stormed out of the room. Professor McGonagall told the buffoon off for poking his wand at Argus Filch's petrified form. No one could find Mrs. Norris despite calling and looking for her.
"Sure, professor," Harry answered and jumped off the bed. He followed along behind Dumbledore's sweeping purple robes as the Headmaster led him through the castle and up flights of stairs. They arrived at the gargoyle blocking the entrance to Dumbledore's Office.
"Jelly Tots," the Headmaster said. The gargoyle jumped aside to reveal a short passage that led to spiraling stone stairs. Harry followed Dumbledore to the bottom stair and felt the magic of the tower activate as a light caress against his skin. He gasped in surprise.
"Professor, I felt the magic!" he said and ran a finger over his forearms. His finger moved along the bumps and grooves of the faint burn scarring but he couldn't feel it.
"I suspect you will be more attuned to subtle changes in magic because of your injuries. Feeling little on your skin makes you aware of any subtle changes in your environment many witches and wizards filter out and ignore unconsciously. This tower has housed many strong witches and wizards so the magic here is denser than you'd find anywhere else in the castle. Outside the Great Hall that is," Dumbledore explained with a bright smile.
"Have a seat," the Headmaster ordered before sitting in the high-backed chair behind the large desk in the center of the room.
Harry noticed a large red bird in the corner that he'd missed the last few times he'd been in the room. He wondered if the bird acted as Professor Dumbledore's owl and that was why he missed the beautiful bird before. "Sir?" he asked and took a seat.
"Fawkes," Dumbledore explained with a wide smile. "Fawkes is a phoenix and has an interesting temperament, much like my own. We are not seen when we do not wish to be. If you see Fawkes now, then he has acknowledged you as worthy to see him. Now, I wish to understand what happened tonight and anything more you can add concerning the letter you sent me. Hedwig made quite a scene when she burst into the International Confederation of Wizards' meeting hall."
Harry started and turned around to look at Professor Dumbledore. "She did?!" he gasped, trying to imagine the scene it must have made.
"Quite the uproar, but no matter. Your information was important and she knew it. I wish to know everything you wish to disclose. I was once a student and understand the need for secrecy when I was in some of my more adventurous moods. I am happy with any information you can provide and respect your privacy."
Harry barked a laugh. "I haven't had time to get into trouble this year, sir," he admitted with a shrug. "Hermione and I have been pushing ourselves hard. It started on my birthday over the summer…"
Professor Dumbledore listened over steepled fingers as he listened to Harry's full narration of his experiences with Dobby, Mr. Malfoy, the Aurors at King's Cross, and his suspicions. Harry's throat grew hoarse toward the end of his story. The Headmaster conjured two glasses and a bottle of Butterbeer. "You won't have tried this yet, but I think after today, you may come to enjoy it," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.
Harry liked the sweet drink and downed it. It soothed his scratchy throat and allowed him to continue. "Please understand, Headmaster. I'm not sure of my conjectures and it could be wrong. However, the puzzle pieces fit. Mr. Malfoy and Dobby have caused or orchestrated the method to cause whatever happened tonight."
"Speculation without proof will land you and I in more trouble than is worth dealing with. However, prudence and planning for a possible threat is an intelligent thing to do. I will ask you to keep what has happened a secret for as long as possible. Simply tell anyone who asks that you found Peeves and Sir Nicholas by accident. Do not mention voices or Mr. Filch."
"Uh, no problem, sir," Harry said with a shrug. He wasn't going to explain anything to anyone he didn't have to anyway.
"I believe tomorrow is a big day for you and Miss Granger," Dumbledore said into the silence. "Have you given the subject much thought?" he asked with an amused look playing at the corners of his mouth.
Harry snorted in response. "Oh, much thought? I suppose thinking about it every day isn't really giving it much thought," he mused with a barely suppressed laugh. "I think we'll go for it."
"You can always bow out at any time. Remember, magical education is at your pace and this is simply an offer to our more gifted students. Few see it to completion, but… all who attempt the task benefit from the experience," the Headmaster said with a bright smile. "There is no favoritism here if you are wondering. It was a joint decision by four of your professors in a rare unanimous vote. I was merely told afterward."