Chapter 23:
Down in the Dumps
By Jelsemium
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, alas.
After the Weasleys and Hermione had left, Madam Pomfrey shooed Dumbledore and the others out of the Hospital Wing, claiming that Harry was overtired and needed some rest.
Harry didn't feel tired.
Instead of resting, he sat on his bed and practiced with his new Quidditch set. He was concentrating on the Bronze Snitch, so he did not realize that the miniature Quaffle had escaped until Madam Pomfrey scolded him and ordered him to put his new toys away.
Not finding the Quaffle in the Hospital Wing, Harry snuck out. Fortunately, the Quaffle was merely hovering around a portrait of Jeanne Arcadia, the legendary Hufflepuff Quidditch captain from the middle 19th Century.
Harry nabbed the errant ball. "I thought you were a Quaffle, not a Snitch," he said as the rubber ball tried to squirm out of his fingers. He looked up at Jeanne and grinned. "I can tell what gender you are, though."
Jeanne giggled and wiggled her fingers.
"I thought you were on holiday," Harry said.
"I am," she said. "I just forgot my gloves." She waved them in Harry's direction before hopping on her Silver Arrow and jetting out of the picture.
Once she was gone, the Quaffle stopped trying to escape.
"Sorry, old boy," Harry said. "It's time to go home."
"That's exactly what I was thinking," a rusty voice said.
Harry almost jumped out of his skin as he whirled around. He managed to keep his grip on the miniature Quaffle, though. His Seeker skills weren't that rusty yet.
"Ah, I apologize for startling you, Harold," Professor Binns said.
Harry sighed, but didn't waste his breath correcting him.
"I have something here for you in honor of your birthday," Binns said, reaching into an inner pocket.
"I understand that you talked the examiners into granting me an Honorary OWL," Harry said. "That's present enough."
Binns smiled faintly. (He did everything faintly, Harry decided, being transparent and all.)
"Actually, this is a card from your late grandfather, Tiberius Potter," Binns said. He held up a translucent envelope.
Ghost mail was difficult. It was so cold that it made a living person's hands hurt. And the warmth of a living hand tended to make the "paper" evaporate.
Harry had just in time to read the birthday greeting before the card melted away.
"Thank you, Professor," he said.
"You're welcome, Herodotus."
"And thank you again for getting me the honorary OWL," Harry said.
The ghostly Binns looked to be in his fifties at the moment. He nodded gravely. "It was only right. Besides, that Professor Snake person was trying to get you ejected. I never liked him. He never paid attention in class."
Well, that was one thing he and Snape had in common, but Harry decided that this would be a bad time to mention it.
"I understand that you found the elusive Chamber of Secrets?"
"Yes, sir," Harry replied as if this were the first time Binns asked that question.
"I was wondering if I might have a look at the Chamber."
"Erm, I don't know," Harry said. "You would have to ask Dumbledore."
"Ah," Binns sighed. "I was actually hoping for something more immediate and less… formal. Having permission robs the experience of some of its mystique." He shrugged. "But if I must, I must."
He drifted away. Harry hoped that he'd given up on the idea, but he had a sinking feeling that he had not.
Binns did not give up on the idea. In fact, he managed to talk Dumbledore into it somehow.
Harry recognized a bad idea when he heard one.
He had acted on bad ideas before. Stealing the Weasley's car and flying to school in their second year leaped to mind. Accepting an invitation to duel with Malfoy in his first year.
Not to mention just about every decision he had made during his fourth year.
Having permission from Dumbledore didn't make him feel any better.
Dumbledore told Harry that it was ultimately Harry's decision. But there was something about Dumbledore's demeanor that prevented Harry from refusing. The headmaster seemed like he was losing his best friend.
Harry remembered that Dumbledore and Binns had gone to school together. He wondered what it would be like to have the ghost of an old friend around.
"I don't know why you're hesitating," Sirius said. "You've been down in the Chamber of Secrets before."
"That was a matter of life and death!" Remus objected.
"Well… this is a matter of Death and… Afterlife," Sirius said. "Think of the poor man. How'd you like to spend the rest of eternity in a senile fog? Doesn't the man deserve a chance to move on?"
Tonks snorted. "You just want to get into the Chamber of Secrets," she said.
"Well, that, too," Sirius admitted. He looked at Remus and Tonks slyly. "And you two don't?"
Harry watched Binns. The history professor was slowly morphing through one phase after another. First he was the absent-minded, indifferent teacher he knew. Then he was the young Dusty Binns.
Dusty gradually aged from eager youth to optimistic teens, to determined prime of life and then, gradually, to disillusioned middle age.
And then back to cantankerous senility.
He wondered what his old age would be like, assuming he lived to have one. He wondered what Binns's parents would have thought, if they could see what had become of their son.
He wondered what his parents would think if he left Binns like this when there was something he could do.
"Okay," he said. "I'll do it."
"Yes!" Sirius cheered.
Tonks grinned and started polishing her wand.
"You will live to regret this," Remus said darkly.
"I already regret this," Harry responded.
Dumbledore looked grave. "Thank you, Harry," he said. Then he led the way to opening to the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry hesitated at the door to Moaning Myrtle's loo.
"She's not here," Binns informed him.
"She's gone off on her annual pilgrimage to Olive Hornsby's grave," Dumbledore said.
"I thought she was banished to Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore nodded and stroked his silvery beard. "She was, but only until Olive died. Now Myrtle goes to contemplate her bete noir's mortality every year."
They entered the bathroom slowly and arranged themselves around the sink with the snake mark.
"Open," Harry hissed.
The sink descended, leaving a gaping hole behind.
Dumbledore looked at the phoenix on his shoulder. "So, Fawkes, do you think that you can carry all of us down to the Chamber?"
Fawkes rolled his eyes.
"Very well, then," Dumbledore said. "A simple 'arresto momento,' then."
The descent into the Chamber was slower and smoother than when he and Ron had jumped in after Lockhart. Harry should have felt better. There was no Ginny in danger. No basilisk on the rampage.
He was still scared.