"Sirius," Marlene said, putting a hand on his arm. "You need to settle down."
"What part of 'deboned Harry's arm' didn't you hear?" he snorted. Marlene's lips thinned, and she adjusted herself on the arm of her flowery armchair. "I'm joking, I am calm." To prove that, he turned the page of the Prophet, gently. Marlene's eyes narrowed. "Promise."
"When are you going back?" she asked.
"I'm at Azkaban again tomorrow," he said, sighing. "I'll mirror Harry in the morning, see how he is." Marlene made a noise that told Sirius she wasn't quite convinced.
"You're not going back to the school?"
"Only if Harry really needs me," Sirius said.
"And Lockhart?" Marlene lifted an eyebrow. "You don't really expect me to believe that you're content with shouting at him-"
"Don't be silly," Sirius said, putting a hand on his heart. "And here I thought you knew me."
"Aha! So what, then? You're an Auror, Sirius, you can't very well march down there and-"
"I know," he said simply. Marlene fell silent, looking confused. Sirius took pity on her. "Warts," he said.
"I-what?"
"Warts," Sirius said again. Marlene opened her mouth. "Time delayed spell. Should start to appear in about five days. First lot will be on his nose, and when he gets rid of those, they'll move to his elbow, then to his hands, then his feet, then-"
"I don't want to know where else," Marlene said, holding up a hand, but her mouth was twitching. Sirius thought she was probably right. "The less I know, the better; I refuse to be your co-conspirator."
"When did you become so boring?" he asked.
"When I grew up," she replied, tweaking his nose.
"I've grown up too," Sirius said. "Had he done the same thing to James or Remus when we were going through school, I probably would've settled for punching him. This is much better." Marlene opened her mouth and then closed it, then patted him on the shoulder.
"Of course it is," she sighed.
"Glad we agree." Marlene just rolled her eyes.
"I'm going to put the kettle on," she said. "Want anything from the kitchen while I'm down there?"
"No, thanks, I should be right," he said. He tried to catch Marlene's arm, with the intention of using it to draw her down for a kiss, but she dodged him, and stuck her tongue out as she left the room. He could hear her chuckling as she moved down the hall. Sirius summoned a quill, and focused his attention on the crossword.
Harry awoke to a dull ache in his arm, and the feeling of a cool, damp cloth on his forehead. He muttered something to tease Padfoot about his bedside manner, but the scent was wrong. Harry's eyes flew open and met another pair of eyes; enormous, green ones. Harry's smothered yell, and the thump of his hand landing on the bedside table, on his wand, was enough to make Mrs Malfoy – who was asleep on a conjured bed beside Hydrus – stir.
Harry's visitor made nervous, shushing motions.
"Dobby?" Harry breathed, and shoved on his glasses to confirm it. Dobby's face contorted into something that was not quite a smile; his eyes were fixed on his sleeping Master and Mistress, and he was wringing the cloth in his hands. "What are you doing?" Dobby vanished the cloth, and patted Harry's hand, which tingled. Harry grimaced, and Dobby backed off at once.
"Poor Harry Potter," he said, playing with the frayed bottom of his grubby pillowcase. "But Dobby is warning Harry Potter, that Hogwarts is not being safe, that Harry Potter should not have come back to school." Harry watched, shocked, as a tear trickled down the side of his face. "Harry Potter should have stayed home when he missed the train-"
"It was you?" Harry asked, bewildered. He shifted himself – gently moving his arm into his lap – so that he could get a better look at the house elf.
"T'was, sir," Dobby said, twisting his ears. "Dobby thought- Dobby had not realised that Harry Potter would find another way. Harry Potter is truly clever, sir-"
"And the bludger?" Harry asked, seized by a sudden suspicion. "I suppose that was you as well?" Dobby's lip quivered, but he nodded. "Why? Did Mr Malfoy tell you to make-" Harry lowered his voice and glanced over at Hydrus and Mrs Malfoy's sleeping forms. "Was it so that he could win?"
"No, Harry Potter!" Dobby said, clapping his hands to his mouth. "Dobby thought- Dobby thought if Harry Potter was hurt, he would be sent home-"
"Or if I was dead," Harry muttered, giving the elf a dark look.
"Not dead, never dead, sir! Just safe, safe at home!"
"Safe from what?" Harry hissed. Dobby shook his head. "Lockhart? The Chamber of Secrets?" Dobby squeaked, and then dove for the metal water jug on the bedside table. Harry caught his pillowcase with his good arm, and held him in place. "The Chamber? But I'm not a muggleborn, I'm a half-blood."
"It doesn't matter, Harry Potter," Dobby moaned.
"Who opened it, Dobby?" Harry asked.
"Dobby can't- Dobby mustn't! Dobby just knows Harry Potter must go home!"
"I'm not going anywhere," Harry told him. "One of my best friends is a muggleborn, and that makes her a target- And what about Draco, Dobby?" Dobby whimpered. "The more you tell me, the sooner I can do something to fix all of this, and then no one will be in danger-"
"Dobby must go-"
"I'll just have Draco order you back," Harry warned. Dobby trembled, but didn't Apparate away as Harry expected. Harry lowered his voice, and tried to make his voice as gentle and persuasive as possible. "Please, Dobby. I know you want to protect me, Dobby, but I'm not leaving, so the only real way to protect me now, is to tell me what you know. It's the only way I'll be safe. Who's doing this?"
"Dobby can't-" Dobby choked, and then froze. His ears flapped, and Harry could hear footsteps. Dobby vanished with a pop, and Harry lay down, frustrated. He wasn't for long, though.
Dumbledore entered the hospital wing, with Professor McGonagall, who was levitating what appeared to be a statue. She deposited it onto a bed and then swept out, presumably looking for Madam Pomfrey, while Dumbledore sat down on the end of the bed, looking sad and tired. If he'd noticed Harry was awake, he hadn't said anything.
"What happened?" Pomfrey was back with McGonagall, looking in horror at the thing on the bed.
"Another attack," Dumbledore said softly.
"I found him on the stairs, with these." McGonagall rattled a box of chocolate frogs. "We think he was trying to visit Potter." The teachers all looked over at Harry at that point, who couldn't decide whether he was supposed to be awake or asleep, and met the stares guiltily. None of them told him off, though Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips.
"Who is it?" he asked, sitting up gingerly. He could just make out a camera, clasped in the victim's hands, and his heart sank.
"Mr Creevey," McGonagall said, thickly.
"He's not-"
"He has been petrified," Dumbledore said. Harry suspected the information was as much for his benefit as Madam Pomfrey's. Dumbledore reached down to take the camera from Colin. "I wonder…"
Dumbledore fiddled with it for a moment, and then steam hissed out of the camera. Dumbledore coughed, and the smell of melted plastic burned Harry's sensitive nose.
"What does it mean?" McGonagall asked, as Harry's eyes watered and he tried not to splutter too much. "Albus?"
But Dumbledore was silent, with his head bowed over Colin and the camera.
When Ginny awoke, she was achy all over and didn't feel as if she'd slept very well. In fact, she couldn't remember going to bed at all, but obviously she had.
She couldn't even remember the last thing she remembered, just that she'd got back from the Quidditch match, gone to dinner, and then- What?
Had she done her homework? Her books were in her school bag, so she doubted it. Had she played cards with Colin, or perhaps with Ron or Hermione or Draco or Harry- well, Harry was in the hospital wing, so probably not with him. Ginny hugged her pillow, feeling very confused, and her hand brushed the cover of the diary. Had she spoken to Tom?
That, of all things, would be easiest to find out. She picked up her quill, which was resting in a small puddle of ink on her bedside table, and wrote Tom's name.
Ginny? came the instant response. Shouldn't you be at breakfast?
Frowning, Ginny checked her watch, and baulked at the time. There was only ten minutes of breakfast left, and then she was due in lessons. She wondered why Colin hadn't sent someone up to get her. Usually, he was good at that.
Ginny, is everything all right?
Distracted, Ginny glanced back at the diary.
I don't know, she wrote. I- I can't remember what- was I talking to you last night?
You don't remember? Perhaps you should go to the hospital wing, Ginny. Maybe you're getting sick. How do you feel?
Achy, she wrote. And tired, and-
I think you must be getting ill, Tom wrote. Not that you can be blamed for that, what with worry about Harry, and this whole Chamber of Secrets thing.
Did I talk to you, though?
Briefly, Tom said. You were going to go to visit Harry with Colin, and said you'd leave me to try to remember the Heir. I think you were angry with me.
Why would I be angry? Ginny wrote, and then wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
I don't know, Tom wrote.
There was a knock on the door, and Hermione looked in.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"I-"
"Silly question, really," Hermione said, biting her lip. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," Ginny said. Hermione sat down on Demelza's neat bed.
"Ron's downstairs, but you know what the girl's stairs are like… he asked if I would check on you."
"Oh." Ginny wasn't sure what else to say. "What about lessons, though?"
"They've been cancelled until after-" Hermione blinked. "You do know?"
"Know what?" Ginny asked, worried.
"About- about last night, and- Colin?"
"Colin? What about him?"
"You don't-" Hermione's hands went to her mouth. "Oh, Ginny, I- Maybe you should come downstairs."
"Why?" Ginny asked.
"Colin's been- There was another attack last night, and he's- He's in the hospital wing, with Harry. He's been- he's petrified."
The rest of the day passed in a blur. She knew that she spent some of it downstairs, with Ron, Hermione, Draco and the twins, and that Luna and Astoria and Vivienne came and sat with her at lunch, and that she got halfway to the hospital wing to visit Colin before getting too upset. She thought Harry was the one that found her on his way back to the common room, with his newly healed arm, but her mind had been wandering and she'd called him Tom, and then run off before she had to explain, or before she let on just how fragile she felt at the moment.
Hermione had found her in her dormitory later – apparently because Harry had asked her to check on Ginny – but Ginny had asked to be left alone, and Hermione had – amazingly – left.
Can I- can I come and see you? she wrote.
Ginny? Is something wrong?
Can I- I'll tell you when I see you, she wrote. I could really use a friend right now.
I'd love to see you, Tom replied. Did you fight with Colin, or one of the others?
Please, Tom?
Of course, Ginny. The pages of the diary swallowed her.
"He's always been odd," Draco said. The two of them were bundled up in cloaks and scarves and were sitting out by the edge of the forest, well away from the lake and any Kelpies it may or may not have housed. Harry thought Madam Pomfrey would have a heart attack if she saw him outside so soon after discharge, but he didn't want to be overheard, and he felt Draco deserved to hear certain things before Ron and Hermione, given his family's potential involvement. "So it was Dobby?"
"Apparently," Harry said, shrugging. He rubbed his arm, relieved to feel bones beneath the skin again. "The bludger and the platform, at least. And he knows something about the Chamber, but whatever it is, he isn't telling."
"I could make him tell," Draco said. Harry was having trouble reading his expression, but he thought Draco was upset.
"Maybe." Harry wasn't convinced. "He was really- well, he wasn't keen to share."
Draco was silent, looking out across the grounds. Harry watched the place his eyes landed; on Hagrid, who was fixing the roof of his hut, while Fang watched on.
"And what do you think about it all?" Draco asked finally.
"I dunno," Harry said. "Dobby said something about it not mattering that I wasn't a muggleborn, and I don't know how to take that except maybe to mean that V-"
"Not that, Potter," Draco said, sounding agitated. "I mean, obviously you've done the decent Gryffindor thing here, and told me what you know privately, but now what? My house elf's admitted to trying to murder you for your own safety, and if he knows things about this Chamber, then it's likely he heard them from my father or aunt-"
"Who are different people to you," Harry said quietly, guessing at what might be the problem. Draco looked at him quickly, and then away again. Harry heard him swallow.
"You don't- you aren't angry at me-"
"For what? For what your dad might know, or might have told Dobby? Obviously it's likely he has, but for all we know, the Chamber's part of some weird bit of house elf lore." He paused. "Maybe I'll ask Kreacher." Draco wouldn't look at him. Harry rolled his eyes. "I didn't bring you out here to tell you to stay away, or something," Harry said. "I just thought you should know before the others." Draco blinked at him.
"Gryffindors," he muttered after a moment, but he had the smallest smile on his face, and a moment later he said, "Thanks, Potter."