Choice - Chapter 10: Eventful Start

Beta'd by borne-shadow-childe, special thanks to her!

Harry poured some porridge into his plate, rolling his eyes as he looked at the two girls beside him deep in conversation. Images of last night's sorting came flashing back, and his lips curled into a small smile. Ginny had indeed caused quite a commotion by being sorted into Ravenclaw; the expression on Ron's face had been priceless. Hermione seemed to have taken a liking in the redhead as well, and the two had been talking almost nonstop since – mainly with Hermione giving Ginny all sorts of information about the castle, with a great emphasize on the library of course.

Any other person might have felt abandoned since Hermione had been his closest friend as soon as he stepped into Hogwarts, yet Harry wasn't upset at all. He knew that they had looked close, but he also knew that he Harry had never been quite as open to her as a good friend probably should. He had been warm, charming, and as truthful as he could, but even with his impaired memory he had never let his mask down. He had been feeling a little guilty all along; but now Hermione could finally have a proper friend.

Harry pushed his dish away and took out a few books. He would have liked to learn more about Wardless magic now that he was at Hogwarts, but he didn't want to carry such books around and broadcast his new ability just yet. He was sure the library possessed the desired books, yet the action of getting his hands on them without the headmaster noticing could prove difficult. He still wasn't sure why he wanted to be cautious around the old man; from what Harry could remember the headmaster looked benevolent enough. Although it could never hurt to be careful – especially when he didn't have his whole memory intact. So right now Harry settled for Potions books instead, as there was a particular potion he had in mind that he wanted to ask about, and he could well use the fifteen minutes or so left of breakfast to get some background information on it. He had a feeling that the Potions Master would appreciate some knowledge before hand.

A higher year named Penelope Clearwater, who was handing out their timetables, however, soon interrupted him. The usually stern Ravenclaw prefect had a strange smile on her face, and Harry could have sworn that he saw her whisper something to another girl and giggled. The aforementioned giggle, furthermore, appeared to be contagious, as whatever news she passed on traveled around the tables seemed to affect more and more students as they all had goofy smiles on their faces. Harry turned and, to his dismay, found Ginny barely suppressing a giggle as well.

"Oh, seriously Ginny," Hermione said half–reproaching, yet she too had a light shade of red on her face. At Harry's questioning glance, she answered, "Remember how we were all speculating whom the Defense against Dark Arts professor would be? Well, it's Gilderoy Lockhart!" She finished dramatically, obviously expecting a reaction.

"Err…wow…" Harry replied after staring at her for a few seconds, quickly recalling any information he had on the name. Hmm…wasn't that the author of the useless seven books he had had to buy for Defense? No wonder then, as he had seriously questioned what kind of teacher would have wanted use such rubbish for textbooks at the time. A picture of a lavishly dressed blonde jumped into his mind, as it was kind of hard to disregard after seeing an image full of constantly chloride-bright smiles and repulsive winking all over the covers of seven books. He shook his head. Girls! Merlin knew what they see in him. Well, at least he supposed it would be interesting to finally meet the man; after all, he had at least done enough to receive an Order of Merlin third class as well as be a best seller for several years.

An hour and half later, Harry found himself seriously rethinking his previous conclusion; as the class had turned out to be anything but interesting. After hearing some testosterone filled shameless boasting for half an hour and then taking a ridiculous quiz for another, he was more than ready for Potions class. No such luck, however, as he was caught by Ginny, who was anxiously waiting outside of the classroom (Hermione was still lucking inside with a considerable number of girls).

"Oh, Harry, how was he?"

"He was– fine…" Harry answered half-heartedly, for he didn't think Ginny would appreciate the rest of the adjectives that jumped into his mind at the moment.

"Ginny! You won't believe it! His hair looked even better than it did in the pictures!" Luckily Hermione had decided to tear herself away from the classroom at that exact moment, and Harry was saved from having to discuss Lockhart further.

They somehow made to the dungeons just on time, with Hermione shooting Harry apologetic glances. The class fell silent as the Potions Master swept in, black robes billowing behind him.

Far from feeling intimidated by this show of authority, Harry couldn't help but sense a faint smile crept onto his face. It was not hard to decipher the fact that saying Professor Snape was not well liked by the students would be an understatement; yet Harry had his own opinions of the man. It was rather strange, actually, because he couldn't really remember any extraordinary encounters with Snape; all he knew was that they had met quite a few times and the Potions Master had been nice – or nice as in a snarky, Snapey way. The details of these encounters were somewhat lost to him. Although the fact that Potions continued to fascinate him helped the matter as well; in fact, it was the only class that Harry felt even remotely challenged in.

Their eyes met for a moment, and Snape turned away sharply, looking even grouchier at the smile on Harry's face. Harry supposed that it wasn't everyday that students wore that expression in his class.

Some stern warnings, a few threats to take off points, another snide comment and they were set to work. Harry glanced over at the directions on the board; it was a mild Sleeping Draught. He stretched slightly as Hermione gathered all the ingredients – this should not be too difficult. "Fuxweed…then heat…knotgrass…" Hermione muttered as she added the ingredients, while Harry dutifully stirred the potion. His mind, however, was only half focused on the works at hand; he was planning on ways to ask Snape a favor. An idea came to him as he looked over the list again; Harry bit his lips. Would it be too presumptuous? Would Snape think he was showing off? Yet it could definitely impress the Potions Master and convince him that Harry was not off his rocker to ask for that favor. Besides, the coloring would be almost the same, and only those very learned in Potions would notice any difference. When it really came done to that, he could simply claim ignorance.

His mind made up, he was just in time to stop Hermione from adding moonstone into the boiling potion.

"What are you doing, Harry? It says that we have to add it while the potion is boiling." She hissed.

"Wait, Hermione. I just thought of a variation…let's wait until the potion is half cooled. You know the heat compromises moonstone's calming properties; that way we can have a potion twice as powerful with the same amount of ingredients."

Hermione thought it over and agreed, but she still had her concerns, "Well, but we really need to know what we are doing; it has to be the exact right moment. Because it wouldn't dissolve properly after that point…"

"Please trust me…I promise I won't bring down our Potions grades. Please, Hermione? You know how rare we get to experiment our own variations."

Hermione bit her lips; Harry could practically see her own curiosity for learning fighting over her strict obedient caution. Finally, she relented, "Well, alright. But you better do it right."

Thus they set down their equipments and waited, while the rest of the class worked frantically on. It could have seemed just like any other Potions class since they were always the first to finish; yet any more observant would notice their intense gaze and tense bodies – finished potions generally did not require such attention.

Harry stared at the potion, looking for any slight color change that would be the indication to add the moonstone. He only had a moment to wonder if the Potions Master would notice their unusual behavior and stop them from carrying out their experiment before the potion claimed his full concentration again. There! He could have sworn that he saw a faint white foggy substance appear. With hushed breath, he added the last ingredient and started stirring.

At first the potion stayed the ugly yellow color it was in, then it started turning sky blue as the moonstone dissolved. Finally it stabilized, and stayed in that color. Harry could hear Hermione let out a long breath.

"Oh, Harry! This is incredible!" she was flushed with excitement, "Do you think he'd give us additional points?"

Harry glanced up at the Potions Master uneasily; if the man had noticed their unusual behavior, he hadn't said anything. "Well, I doubt that…after all, the coloring is almost the same; we wouldn't know unless we try it on someone," he said reasonably.

Just then, Snape stood up, "Time is up, stop working and hand in a vial of your…dare I say, potions." He paused before the word "potions" as if he couldn't decide whether their work would even be called such. Harry looked around and had to agree; his classmates held vials of substances with various colors and smell – some were boiling still. Giving Hermione a small smile, he took their sample and stepped up the room.

When it was his turn, Snape had just finished bashing a Hufflepuff and was apparently in a foul mood. "Next," he snarled. Taking over the vial, he peered at the potion critically; yet Harry could just see an eyebrow raised to the slightest degree. "Hmm…almost the correct color, it seems, once again Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger seem to have been able to produce a somewhat tolerable potion."

Harry shrugged; coming from Snape, that would be a compliment. He sat back as the rest of the class had their works checked – when the bell rang, most were relieved.

He waited until all of his classmates left (which didn't take very long since they all but fled from the room) and approached Snape.

Snape scowled as he looked up, "What is it that you want this time?"

Harry had a strange feeling of déja-vu, but he soon shook it off, "Sir, I was wondering if I could have some extra tutoring time after class, if that's not too much trouble for you?"

Snape raised an eyebrow, "As much as it pains me to say it, Mr. Potter; you are among the few that are actually component enough for this class. I take it that it was your idea to put the moonstone in when the potion is half-cooled?"

"Thank you, Sir. But it is for an outside class potion…I will pay for the ingredients and all, and I can brew other potions for you to make up the time. I just need to learn how to brew it; once I'm able to do that I will stop bothering you," Harry pled.

"What is the potion that you wish to learn?"

"Wolfsbane," Harry answered firmly, knowing that Snape would be able to understand the implication of it. The potion was so rare that only a handful people so far had mastered the art of making it, and even reliable books on this matter were hard to come by. Yet he had decided to make it for Remus the day he learned of its existence. It was bad enough that Remus had to leave his childhood home; Harry would at least make this one thing more bearable. Snape seemed surprised at the answer, and his expression was dark. It was then Harry remembered the "feud" Sirius had talked about. He bit his tongue and held his breath.

For a moment, it almost seemed as if the Potions Master might refuse; but, instead, he whispered, "Very well, I shall be expecting you every Monday at eight o'clock. It is a very complex potion, and I will not put up with any idiocy. I will discontinue the lesson if you show any sigh of incompetence.

"Oh," he smirked, "and remember you would be serving detentions should any of your little friends' curiosity rise."

Harry smiled brightly to the other man's utter disgust and excused himself from the classroom, knowing that Snape would not appreciate his further lurking about.

Harry stole a few snickers as Ron spoke on about Quidditch with just as much enthusiasm as the girls did Lockhart. Earlier during supper, they had been distracted by an alarming amount of Lockhart-related discussion that seemed to have sprung up across the tables. And, finally claiming insanity, Ron had dragged Harry and Neville out of the Great Hall for a walk around the lake.

Just then it came. It was a most strange sensation; Harry felt as if something was stirring inside of him, seeking to break lose. On top of that, he also felt physically pulled towards the castle. Attempting to steady himself along a tree bank, he bent over in pain. However, just as he tried to locate the feeling, it just…disappeared, as suddenly as it came. Harry straightened himself up shakily; his breath came in short rags. What was that about?

"Mate, are you alright?" Ron's voice was full of concern.

"Yeah…this has never happened before," Harry stood up cautiously, frowning as he noticed the weakness in his knees and the sweat on his forehead.

"Do you reckon it could be…you know, the side-effect of-of that curse?" Neville asked nervously.

Harry pondered the matter; as it was very plausible. He had experienced a soul-tearing curse after all, so maybe his soul was still a little restless. He decided that it didn't really quite require Madame Pomfrey's attention, and he doubted that the Mediwitch could have done anything for him anyhow. Besides, who knew what the headmaster would make of this news? He would take care of it for now, and if it really got worse, he could always ask for help later.

Despite his claims, however, Ron and Neville insisted that they go back inside early, and they soon directed Harry to their common room. Passing a corridor, Harry saw a large group of students gathering around it. Curious, he went for a closer look, and was stunned by the sight that greeted him. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware.

There was a large puddle of water on the floor; and, underneath the letter, a cat hung by its tail from the torch bracket, stiff as a board. The student looked on, shocked. For a few seconds there was an uneasy silence, Before someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Harry sought the source of the voice and saw that the speaker was none other than one of Malfoy's brainless lackeys, was it Crabbe or Goyle? However, it was obvious he had little idea of the significance of what he had just said…Harry's gaze fell on Malfoy; and his eyes narrowed; he was sure that the blonde had told the other what to say. Yet why would Malfoy want to draw suspicion upon his own friends purposely? For a moment, their eyes met; and, to Harry's utter surprise, Malfoy threw him a strange look and turned away.

Harry slipped away from the crowd just as the teachers arrived at the scene; he could still hear Filch's howling. He rubbed his eyes as a thousand questions flew through his mind: What is the Chamber? Who is the Heir... and the list went on. Not to mention strange-behaving Malfoys. The Chamber of Secrets… somehow that rang a bell, yet why it was he could not grasp. He had a feeling, though, that all the questions are related to each other somehow. Harry let out a long-suffering sigh as he spoke the password to the portrait; this was going to be an eventful year indeed.

"Harry, are you alright? You look a little pale…" Hermione inquired as he sat down besides her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little tired I think."

"Strange, Ginny is not feeling well, either; do you think it could be a virus in school?"

Harry looked at the red head, and indeed she looked pale and unsettled as well. At his concerned glance, however, she shrugged, "I'm fine, it's probably just that I haven't gotten used to the castle yet."

Hermione didn't seem satisfied with the answer, but she dropped the topic anyway. Harry settled contentedly into the warm, comfy chair as the girls started yet another conversation about Lockhart. His eyelids soon became heavier as he reveled in the warmth of the fire. Hermione was talking about potions again…Lockhart…all seemed so distant somehow…hmmm…Ginny was talking to him, thanking him for something…. A diary…?

It was a dirty, little room, with an oppressive atmosphere about. A few bony beds stood awkwardly in a row; some ragged clothes hang around the small window. It was strangely quiet except the shouting and the dead thuds of a belt hitting flesh…

"…You freak! You, you little devil! You did that on purpose, didn't you?" A black haired man was hovering over a little boy, his face contorted with rage.

The boy was curled up into a fetal position in the corner, arms over his head in a vain attempt to protect himself from the blows. Yet no sound escaped from his throat, no terrified sobbing; no shouting for the injustice of it all. He simply took the blows quietly, expertly shielding himself so that the damage would be a minimal.

Harry watched in horror as the beating went on. He had to help; he had to do something. Yet his body would not move at his command and his shouting went unheeded; thus he watched helplessly on.

After what felt to be like an eternity, the man finally stopped. "Any more funny business and you'll wish you were never born!" he spat at the little boy and strode away. The boy did not move until the sound of the man's footsteps faded. Harry had another urge to go up and help the other, yet he was still held in the paralysis.

A strange chuckle escaped the boy's throat, and he supported himself up with trembling hands, his face still hidden behind his hair and the rag that was obviously too large for him, "As if I do not wish that every waking moment…" Harry shuddered at the bitterness of his tone; the boy had looked so small, he mustn't be older than, what, eleven? He stumbled to a bed at the end of the room that seemed to be even worse off than the rest of the thin beds. Harry held his breath as the small boy slowly turned -

"Harry? HARRY? Are you alright?"

"Humph -" Harry mumbled, not really comprehending what was being said to him. His eyes protested at the sudden light, and he numbly realized that he was being shaken violently.

Finally Hermione's face swam into view, and Harry sat up. Looking around, he saw Ginny and the rest of the room looking at him nervously. "What happened? I must have dozed off…"

Hermione still looked a little shaken, "Harry, you should have heard yourself; you sounded as if someone was killing you!"

"I'm alright," Harry gave her a reassuring smile, "Just some nightmares." Inwardly, however, he was deeply shaken by what he had seen. It had felt so real, as if it had really happened…

Great, he thought bitterly, justwhat I needed; another puzzle to think about.

The rat squeaked and fought, finally disappearing into the depth of the forest. A shadow settled over the little clearing; its presence sending off waves of irritation and menace. The rat should have been captured; he was so close…yet he had a flashback at the most inopportune time. Why the flashback? And why that memory? He thought he had forgotten all that the day he decided to become invincible…

Lord Voldemort slid over the forest floor in contemplation. Something was going on; things were stirring. Just moments before he had experience yet another pulse of restlessness, as if his own existence was being called, pulled towards something. Yet who would have the power and will to call the Dark Lord but the Dark Lord himself? It was a rather disturbing thought; Voldemort frowned as he remembered a certain diary he left behind on the impulsiveness of youth. Could it be…? Yet the oath… The shadow growled in irritation; some ploy must be at work, and he would not be kept in the dark.

A/N: Well, hope you liked it. And, now, you know how much I appreciate reviews. ; )

Review Responses:

Julie Long: Thanks for your review. There is a little of Voldemort at the end of the chapter, but you know it's really hard to have him around when he's merely a shadow. Though I promise there will be plenty of Tom soon.

Borne-shadow-childe: Thank you so much for reviewing and being such a wonderful beta!

A.Potter: Thanks! Harry will interact with Tom soon, though I'm not giving out anything more specific, heehee.

DARKMARK33LV: Thanks a lot and I love your stories.

Child-of-the-Waves: I'm truly honored, though I already had offers. Would you like to help me on my other fic, though?

Sami1010220: You'll see about Harry's memory…soon I hope. And here's the update!

Igonia: Thanks! And yeah I do agree he's being corrupted a bit too much.

Shadowface: No problem, I'll kill off Umbridge when the time comes.

HoshiHikari: Thank you!

GoddessMoonLady: Thanks! I know, isn't Harry an awesome actor

Yana5: Thank you!