Hindsight

Summary: "Ten years," James whispered to his wife. "We've been dead for Ten years… how is this possible?" Ten years after the tragedy at Godric's Hollow, James and Lily come back to life and find their world turned upside down.

Chapter 21

The start of Harry's Second Year went downhill from the Whomping Willow incident. Apparently, when his mother had interrupted Lockhart's longwinded speech to save him, she had done it just when he was about to proclaim himself as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It was a rather unpleasant shock when they walked in and saw Gilderoy Lockhart standing in their classroom next to an abnormally large portrait of himself. If it wasn't bad enough that he was so self-absorbed, he also was absolutely horrid and they learned nothing from him. In fact, he left them to their own defenses after settling loose a horde of Cornish Pixies. "I hope you realize what Mrs. Potter realized," Neville pleaded with Hermione after two of the pixies dragged him around the room by his ears. "Man's mental!"

If that wasn't enough, a First Year Gryffindor boy named Colin Creevey had taken to following Harry around like a shadow. He begged for pictures and autographs, going so far as to wait in front of Harry's dorm for them. It was a nightmare dodging both him and Lockhart, who was constantly hounding him for his time and attention.

He did have something to look forward to, which was a visit to Hagrid's hut with his three friends, but even that was ruined when Oliver Wood woke him up at the crack of dawn for Quidditch practice.

"None of the other teams have started training yet! We're going to be the first off the mark this year-"

Harry glared at him as he crawled out of bed and began searching for his Quidditch uniform in his trunk.

"Good man. Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes."

He let out a huff when Wood disappeared, grabbed his scarlet robes and a cloak, then hastily wrote a note to Ron and Neville to explain where he had gone. Sally was peering up at him from the bottom of his trunk, hidden by clothing, and he leaned down to whisper to him. "You're awake?"

"Yess. Where are you going?"

Harry pulled him out and placed him on his bed. "Off to Quidditch practice. Watch my friends, all right? If any rat comes scurrying in-"

"I ssshall ssstrike it down."

He smiled and patted Sally's head. "Stay out of sight," he said before placing the note on his pillow, grabbing the broom that was resting against the wall next to his headboard and rushing off.

To his dismay, Colin Creevey was awake and had heard Oliver calling for him. He hung around when he realized he'd be coming and followed him the entire way to the Quidditch pitch. Despite Harry's annoyance, he had a soft spot somewhere deep, deep inside of him. Colin's nonstop questions about Quidditch reminded him of when he was first interrogating his father and uncles about the sport. He liked knowing that he could help someone understand more about the wizarding world. It was something he needed and got when he first entered the world. Who was he to deny Colin some answers at least?

Of course, his soft spot was completely forgotten when Colin snapped another quick picture and promised Harry he'd "get a good seat!" in the Quidditch stands. He sighed and ducked into the locker rooms where his teammates looked just as tired and irritated with Oliver as he was.

They went over new training regimens, with interactive diagrams that lasted nearly an hour and a half for Oliver to explain. The twins were dozing in and out of sleep and Angelina and Katie were pinching each other to stay awake. None of them even understood Oliver's zeal. They had won the Quidditch cup last year, after all, something that George pointed out to him cantankerously.

"And this year we train harder to stay champions," Oliver explained, looking very cross that none of his team was taking this seriously. "They know our old moves, we have to try new ones to keep them on the edges of their brooms. Now come on, let's put some of these theories into practice!"

They'd been in the locker room for so long that, by the time they got onto the field, the sun was up and Ron, Hermione and Neville were by the stands.

"Aren't you finished yet?" Ron called in amazement.

"We haven't even started," Harry grumbled as he stared jealously at the food they brought from the Great Hall. He soared up on his broom but before any of them could start practicing, the wild clicking of Colin's camera interrupted them. They all looked into the stands, though Harry desperately tried to ignore Colin.

"Who's that?" Fred asked.

"No idea," Harry lied.

"What's going on?" Oliver stared at the boy suspiciously. "Why is he taking pictures? He could be a Slytherin spy!"

"Slytherin doesn't need a spy, Oliver," George answered.

"What makes you say that?"

He pointed down at the field. "Because they're here in person."

They all rushed down and dismounted, following their fuming captain who was muttering about "booking the field" and "supposed to be the first!" He turned as red as his robes when Flint read out the note Professor Snape gave them about having permission to take the field to train their new Seeker. "You have a new Seeker?" Wood was distracted now. Who was the new Seeker? Were they any good? "Where?"

And just like that, Harry felt his year get even worse, for Draco Malfoy appeared from behind the Slytherin team.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred asked as he stared at Malfoy with obvious dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father, Weasley," Flint interrupted. The Snakes began grinning broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

Oliver's jaw twitched violently and they sucked in a sharp breath almost collectively when the entire team held out new brooms marked Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"You've got to be kidding me," Harry muttered.

"Just came out last month," Flint gloated before taunting his Two Thousand, as well as the Cleansweeps the twins were using. None of them could think of anything to say. Malfoy had the most irritating looking smirk on his face. "Oh look! A field invasion."

The Gryffindors turned to see Neville, Ron and Hermione hurrying over to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry and his brothers. "Why aren't you playing yet? And what's he doing here?"

Malfoy puffed up. "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Harry's friends were now shocked silent as well.

"Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherins howled with laughter.

Hermione, who usually begged her boys to ignore Malfoy, stepped forward with a fire in her eyes. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent."

The Gryffindors finally felt like they had the upper hand again, and were just about to congratulate Hermione's comeback with a hearty laugh when Malfoy took a step closer like she did.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

Harry felt his blood run cold as his team exploded behind him. Fred and George lunged at Malfoy, only to be stopped by the Slytherin beaters. Alicia shrieked "how dare you!" at the arrogant boy and Ron whipped his wand out.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!"

But his wand, which had broken when they crashed into the Whomping Willow, backfired on him and sent him flying backwards onto the grass.

"Ron!" Hermione squealed. "Ron, are you all right?"

He opened his mouth to answer her but heaved hard and vomited out a slug onto his lap.

The Slytherin team was roaring with laughter once more. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors gathered around Ron, trying their best to help him. Katie and Angelina kept the boy between them, patting his back comfortingly as slug after slug came out of his mouth. "Don't listen to them, Ron!" they all encouraged. "We all know it'd be Malfoy chewing on slugs if your wand wasn't broken."

Neville, who had been standing off to the side, suddenly found he could hold himself back no longer. "I-it's not funny, Malfoy!" his voice trembled. "D-don't you call Hermione that again or-"

"O-or w-w-what, Longbottom?" Malfoy taunted quietly as he stood. "Fancy yourself a blood traitor like the Weasleys?"

Harry had had enough. He insulted Hermione, who thankfully didn't seem to understand the weight of Malfoy's words. He was the reason Ron was incapacitated at the moment and now, he was picking on the first friend he ever made.

"Filthy mudblood, you tell me the truth! Now! How are you back?!"

Harry dropped his broom on the ground and marched over to the boy. He didn't take his wand out. None of the Slytherins noticed him, too entertained by the way Malfoy was making fun of Neville. He clenched his hand into a fist and his eyes zeroed in on Malfoy's mouth.

"Well, Longbottom? Are you and Weasley in competition for the mudblood's affection or-"

The moment Harry brought his fist up was when the others realized what he was doing. They grabbed his arms and shoved him away, his own team jumping to his defense as they tried to pry the Slytherin's off of him.

But they had stopped the wrong boy.

For Neville himself had reeled his arm back and punched Malfoy right in the middle of the face.

The blond boy's head snapped back and he stumbled back with a shriek. Malfoy landed on his back, clutching his nose as blood dribbled out from between his fingers. "You stupid idiot!" he cried at Neville, who was sneering down at him. Harry stared at his friend in shock like all the others were, even a slug-vomiting Ron. They'd never seen such a mean look on Neville's kind face. "You'll pay for that, Longbottom, you fat-"

"I'd like to see you try, Malfoy!" Neville shouted. "You leave my friends alone! And don't you ever talk about Hermione or any muggle-born like that ever again! Or I'll… Or I'll…"

He stormed away and hoisted Ron to his feet. Harry scurried over to them and took Ron's other side.

"Come on. Let's get him to Hagrid's."

The entire way, Hermione, Ron and Harry felt amazement and pride swell up within them for their best friend and his ever-growing confidence.

He was gong to die. He was going to die. He was sure he was going to die.

Harry bit his lip and pressed himself down on his broom as much as he could. It sped up slightly but a quick glance over his shoulder told him it wasn't doing much. The bludger was still following him. He could see Fred and George watching him to make sure he was okay. Both of them were furious with Wood for allowing him to play when a bludger was obviously tampered with so it would only be aiming for him. "This is all your fault! 'Get the snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him!" George had shouted at their captain, but it didn't matter to Harry. He wanted to wipe the smug look off Malfoy's face when he won the game for Gryffindor.

Suddenly, he was flying through the hallways of Hogwarts. He looked around in confusion. How did he get here?

"Sooo hungry… for so long…"

That voice. It was the voice again! The one only he could hear. Who was it? Where was it coming from?

"Kill… time to kill."

He turned corners and followed the voice desperately. He had to stop it. He had to stop it from hurting someone.

"SMELL BLOOD."

He was back on the Quidditch pitch. zigzagging through the air, spiraling and looping around the stands but he couldn't shake the bludger off him. He made a sharp turn and the bludger went whizzing past him, missing him by an inch.

Filch appeared at his side. "You! You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"

Malfoy was laughing a few yards away from him. "Training for the ballet, Potter?"

He turned to the boy and saw it. The snitch was hovering by Malfoy's ear. He was just about to shoot towards his foe when-

Harry woke with a gasp, looked around and closed his eyes with an irritable groan. He was in the Hospital Wing. A rogue bludger had broken his arm and, somehow, Professor Lockhart had made it to him before anyone else did. The stupid man had vanished his arm bones instead of fixing them. Just remembering the way his arm flopped around made him shiver. His mum, who he noticed was sleeping next to him in a chair, had torn Lockhart apart for it. His dad was practically murderous.

Harry turned on his side, his back facing his mother, and winced. His arm felt full of large splinters. He comforted himself with the thought of knowing it didn't have the same level of pain when it first started. He even tried to ignore the fact that the Slytherins went so far as tampering with a bludger so the Gryffindor's wouldn't win.

What truly bothered him was that voice. The voice only he could hear, that led him and his friends to Filch's petrified cat and words written in red on the wall, warning "Enemies of the Heir Beware!" Who was it? Could there really be a Chamber of Secrets?

"M-Mister Harry Potter, sir?"

He looked up and blinked. Standing before him was an odd little creature with bat-like ears and eyes as big as tennis balls. Bandages were wrapped around every one of its fingers. It was wearing a filthy pillowcase and its voice was so high Harry was unsure if it was a girl or a boy. "Er… hello."

The creature trembled but forced a grin at him. He bowed low. "So long Dobby has waited to meet Harry Potter… such an honor it is."

Harry glanced back at his mother and saw she was still sleeping. "Thank you?" He wanted to ask what it was, but decided it would be too rude. "Who are you?" he asked instead.

"Dobby, sir. Dobby the house elf."

A house elf? What was that? "Well, Dobby, it's very nice meeting you. Do you work for Madam Pomfrey or-"

"W-work?" Dobby stuttered. "Dobby is his master's servant, Harry Potter, sir."

He didn't take too kindly to the implications of that statement. "And did your… master send you here for a reason?"

Dobby trembled. "Harry Potter must understand Dobby only did these things to keep him safe. Dobby only wanted Harry Potter safe. Harry Potter means so much to the house elves..."

Harry sat up, ignoring the ache that shot up his arm. "What is it Dobby? You can tell me. I won't be mad, I promise."

The house elf glanced at Lily then down to his feet. "You-you see… Dobby closed the barrier on Harry Potter and his friends so he wouldn't get to Hogwarts."

Harry bit his lip, reminding himself that he promised the elf he wouldn't be mad. "And why would you do that?" he asked. By the way the elf flinched, he knew he had not hid his anger very well.

"B-because… master… Dobby knows about plans. Plans for terrible things to happen at Hogwarts and Dobby did not want Harry Potter here! Dobby wanted to save Harry Potter by keeping him away! Dobby wanted to find Harry Potter during the summer to warn him but he could not. And Dobby knew Harry Potter's godfather must have put many, many charms around their house to protect Harry Potter. Which means Harry Potter would be safe there! Not here! So Dobby locked the barrier!"

Below the blanket, Harry's fingers curled so tightly that his nails were digging into his palms. "But what bad things are happening that you had to do all of that, Dobby?"

"Dobby cannot, sir. If master knew that Dobby told Harry Potter-"

"Who is your master, Dobby?"

The elf quaked harder. "Dobby cannot say, sir! Master will punish Dobby if he ever finds out!"

"I won't let him!"

"If master knew about the barrier and the bludger-"

"The bludger?" The elf froze and stared up at Harry guilty. Sinking realization settled in his stomach. "The bludger. That was your bludger."

"Dobby didn't want to, sir," he pleaded. "Dobby had to!"

"You had to attack me with a bludger?!" Harry hissed. He glanced at his mother to make sure he hadn't woken her.

"Don't worry, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby put a spell on Harry Potter's guard to make sure she stayed asleep."

"You put a spell-" He swallowed his fury as best as he could. "You made that bludger follow me like that? You saw what it did, didn't you? It broke my arm and a professor accidentally vanished my bones because of it."

Dobby nodded miserably. "Dobby punished himself for it." He held his thin fingers up. "See? Dobby ironed his fingers for harming Harry Potter… but Dobby thought it would be better to send Harry Potter home gravely injured than keep him here where it isn't safe!"

He softened and pulled the house elf up onto the bed. Harry examined the burnt fingers and felt a stab of remorse for yelling at Dobby. "Why did you do this? You have to let my guard heal them or I'll feel guilty forever."

"No, Harry Potter no!" he wailed, crying into his pillowcase. "Harry Potter is too kind, but Dobby deserved this for betraying his master and for attacking Harry Potter. But please, sir, please. You must go home! Harry Potter must stay at home with his godfather! So his godfather can protect him!"

"Dobby tell me what's going on," Harry begged. "I know you know. Is the Chamber of Secrets real? Is that voice I keep hearing the man who opened it?"

"Harry Potter hears a voice?"

"Yes, I do."

Dobby looked around wildly like someone was listening to him. "Does Harry Potter's friends hear the voice or is it only Harry Potter?"

Harry understood. He was trying to give him hints. "Only me, Dobby."

Dobby nodded, a crazed look in his eyes. "A voice only Harry Potter can understand…"

"Understand?"

Dobby leaned in. "Dobby knows," he whispered. "Dobby has come here to keep an eye on you and has seen you talking to your hidden friend..."

Harry's eyes widened as large as Dobby's.

"A snake. The Chamber is real and the monster within it is a snake!"

Dobby lunged forward and grabbed Harry's hands. "Dobby didn't tell Harry Potter! Harry Potter guessed for himself! Dobby didn't do anything wrong!"

"No, you didn't, Dobby! I figured it out all myself so don't-" Dobby leapt of the bed and began bashing his head into the wall. "Punish yourself," Harry finished lamely. "Stop! Stop, Dobby, stop!"

"Master will be furious with Dobby!" he cried, tears pouring down like rivers.

"No one will tell your master! And if your master really will be mad for trying to save students then he isn't a good master at all! You have to leave him Dobby! I'll protect you. I'll hide you at my house where you can be protected," he blurted out, hoping it would make the elf stop. Instead, Dobby's cries grew louder. "What? What is it?!"

"Harry Potter is too kind! To take Dobby in after everything Dobby has done to him… but master would never give Dobby clothes."

He was confused now. "Clothes? What do you mean?"

Dobby tugged on his pillowcase. "The mark of a house-elf's enslavement, sir. We can only be freed if masters present us with clothes, sir." So his suspicions were right. House elves were slaves. "The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever."

"Well…" he tried to find a solution. "Well, we'll find a spell or something… to set you free. It's the least I can do for all the times you've tried to save me… even though you also tried killing me to do it."

Dobby threw his hands over his eyes and bawled hard.

"Dobby, no! I was joking!"

The elf froze and his ears twitched. He looked at the door and Harry heard what the elf did. Footsteps.

"Dobby must go. Go home, Harry Potter! Promise Dobby you will!" he said before disappearing with a loud crack.

Harry fell back onto the bed and burrowed under his blankets, which he brought up just below his eyes. He watched Dumbledore back in through the door, carrying what looked like a statue. A few seconds later, McGonagall appeared, holding the feet of it. They carried it over to the bed closest to the door. "Get Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore whispered. Professor McGonagall disappeared through another door and, as quickly as she had gone, was back with the matron.

"What's going on?"

"Another attack. Minerva found him on the stairs."

"There were a bunch of grapes next to him. We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."

Harry smothered his gasp into his hand. He raised his head an inch to see who had been attacked while on their way to see him.

It wasn't Ron or Neville as he expected.

Colin…

Heavy guilt clawed at him. Colin's eyes were wide and his hands were stiff in front of him, holding his camera up. He watched them open the back of the camera in hopes to find a clue as to what was attacking the school, but a jet of steam hissed out and a smell of burnt plastic filled the air. The film was all melted.

"What does this mean, Albus?"

"It means that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again…"