Year 2
(Seamus Finnigan)
You say goodbye to your family hurriedly, excited to get back to Hogwarts, your mam hurriedly calling, "An' try not ta' start any more fires!"
You spot Dean on the platform, and the two of you hurry to grab a compartment, along with Neville trailing after the two of you.
You act like you're already an old pro, sliding past the nervous and unsure first years like you own the place. Though (of course) you get dirty looks from the older Slytherins you bump into in your haste to find a seat.
The first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the year is something to remember. You've got this new Professor, who introduces himself as Gilderoy Lockhart.
You think he seems like a fraud the moment you meet him, along with most of the other boys in your class. On the first day he gives you a bloody test, for god's sake! Facts all about him, no less. By the time he gets around to talking about his preferred birthday presents, you and Dean are barely controlling your laughter.
After reviewing the rest of the answers, he bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.
"Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm." Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Your laughter dies down and Neville is practically cowering in his seat.
"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them!"
As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.
"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies. "
Pixies? That's his idea of the foulest creatures known to wizard kind? That's pathetic! You were expecting something exciting, but instead he brings pixies? The little creatures that live in the forests near your village?
You let out a snort of laughter, not being about to control yourself.
"Yes?" Professor Lockhart says, grinning down at you, making you immediately regret laughing. Mam told you not to get in trouble, and she was already angry about the fires you made last year accidentally. And you reckon laughing at a teacher is a little different than blowing up a feather.
"Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous, are they?" You choke out.
"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at you. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"
The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. Now that you think about it, maybe the tosser was right... they did look a lot scarier up close. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making strange faces everyone.
"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly, twisting the lock on the cage. "Let's see what you make of them!"
Freed from their restraint, pixies filled the air, squealing and flying around at top speed. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air, legs flailing and voice wobbling "...let me down!". You and Dean both dove under the desk, shouting in alarm, until three pixies grabbed Dean's bag and flew off with it, prompting Dean to chase after them yelling, "Give that back!"
"Come on now - round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.
There was shattering at the back of the class, and you turned and saw that a fair many of them had simply broken the window and escaped. The rest that were left grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls. It gave you momentary happiness to see one smash a photo of Lockhart grinning supposedly charmingly, but then you heard thumping on the top of your desk. Grabbing your things and scooting under the desk behind you, you were met with the frightened eyes of Lavender Brown.
Oh great.
Within a second, a pixie grabbed hold of one of her dark blond curls.
"Ah!" She screamed loudly right into your ear. "Seamus, get it off! Get it off!"
Panicked, you grabbed a book from above the desk and smacked it off her, making the pixie soar through the air and land on a desk across the room.
"Thanks." She said hurriedly, and you nodded your head, tugging your things a little farther under the desk.
The bell rang and the both of you scramble out from under the desk. Practically crashing into Dean, the two of you shove your way out the door and into the pixie-free hallway.
"What the bloody hell!" You say, catching your breath. "What's he thinking, lettin' those loose?"
"Didn't you say they weren't very dangerous?" Dean says, laughing loudly.
You mockingly glare at him, punching his arm. "Shut up."
You manage to go an entire month without blowing anything up, but unfortunately when faced with practicing "Tergeo!", you end up with somewhere between a first and second degree burn.
"Mr. Finnigan," Professor Flitwick says tiredly. "you're going to need to go to the hospital wing. Can anyone take him?"
No one appears to be listening.
"Oh, Miss Brown, yes come here." Flitwick says, beckoning the girl over. "You've finished your work, yes?"
"Yes sir, I've wiped it clean." Lavender says pridefully.
"Would you mind taking Mr. Finnigan here to the hospital wing?"
He must be kidding!
Lavender looks at you disdainfully, but then smiles at the Professor. "No, not at all."
The two of you set off, her walking purposefully with her arms crossed ahead of you. You walk slower, meandering after her, and feeling your face beginning to ache.
"Would you hurry up?" She calls back to you impatiently.
You roll your eyes, and she waits for you at the end of the hall expectantly. The both of you walk next to each other now, you're sulking because you wish Dean had taken you.
"How come you're always blowing stuff up?" She suddenly asks.
"Not always." You mutter. She raises an eyebrow at you judgmentally, but just continues on walking with her nose in the air.
"They should call you fire Finnigan... no, no flammable Finnigan!" She says, laughing to herself. If it had been any other person any other time, you probably would have laughed your head off. But it isn't, it's just snobby Lavender.
"What about you?" You shoot back, and she immediately looks extremely affronted. "Your name is two colors. Lavender Brown."
She just rolls her eyes. "Whatever flammable Finnigan. I'll see you later." She says, and you suddenly realize you've ended up in front of the hospital wing.
She skips off down the hall, leaving you staring after her.
History of Magic was, without a doubt, the most boring class in the world. Usually you could manage by sleeping through it, which was what you were intending to do, before conversation that day got much more interesting.
As usual, Hermione was the only one half-engaged in the ghost Professor Binns' lecture, so it was a common occurrence for her hand to be in the air.
Professor Binns acknowledged her. "Miss - er -?"
"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," said Hermione in a clear voice.
Dean, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance, along with most in the room, and you heard Neville's elbow slide off the side of his desk painfully. The entire class was suddenly jolted to attention. Ever since Filch's cat had been found supposedly dead, everyone had been wondering about hidden dangers in Hogwarts.
Professor Binns only blinked.
"My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk s!-ping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers -"
Hermione's hand shot into the air again.
"Miss Grant?"
Hermione persisted. "Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"
Professor Binns looked fully taken aback, prompting you to share a snicker with Dean. You don't think anyone had ever interrupted in all his hundred years of teaching.
"Well," said Professor Binns slowly, "Yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale -"
You can't help but think the only reason he kept talking is because he had never had this level of interest in his class before.
"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see ... the Chamber of Secrets ... You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago - the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."
The class seemed to be hanging on his every word.
"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."
You can't help but think how obvious that was. Slytherin was full of slimy gits, of course they would be prejudice like that. You glanced over at Dean, who you knew was muggleborn, but were surprised that you never thought twice about it. Obviously it was a big deal if this Salazar Slytherin bloke left a school he created.
"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."
When he finished, the class was dead silent, and not the sleepy, hazy silence of bored children, but the uneasiness of the story that had just been told. Professor Binns suddenly looked really irritated.
"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."
Luckily, Hermione's hand was back in the air.
"Sir - what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?" She asked.
"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.
The class exchanged nervous looks.
"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns scoldingly, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."
"But, sir," You pipe up, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"
"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing -"
"But, Professor," Parvati protested from across the room, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it -"
"Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't, Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore -"
"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't -" began Dean, but Professor Binns had had enough.
"That will do," he said sharply. "It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"
And Professor Binns regressed into his usual droning.
"They're starting a dueling club! First meeting's tonight, I wouldn't mind dueling lessons, they might come in handy one of these days..." You say to Dean, looking at the advertisement that Lockhart set up. Even though it is Lockhart, you figure if you're going to battle a Slytherin, or even any so-called 'horrors' that live in that chamber, you're going to need lessons.
You and Dean decide to go.
You get partnered up with Ron, who promptly knocks you off his feet.
It's all fun and games until Harry starts talking to the snake. The entire room goes silent as you watch Harry approach the snake, from where it was looking a bit like it was going to attack Justin Finch-Fletchey. And suddenly, Harry just starts making hissing and spitting sounds, looking as if he's urging the snake on!
You cut your eyes at Dean, who's looking fearfully between Harry and Justin.
That's when it all begins.
The year ends, once again being saved by Harry Potter. Dean, luckily, had not been one of the muggleborns to have been petrified. You spent the duration of the semester insisting on going everywhere with him, just so he would never be alone. The two of you got a lot closer that year.
(Lavender Brown)
"Isn't he just flawless?" Patty whispers, letting her cheek fall to her hand.
Professor Lockhart clears his throat, smiling that charming smile. "All right, pass your tests back."
"His perfection hurts to look at." Parvati replies, handing back the test they just took.
You're infuriated, because you really didn't know what his favorite color was, and that was absolutely crucial because then you'll know what color headband you should wear.
"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac." Your breath catches in your throat, because lilac is surprisingly close to lavender, and Parvati elbows you in the stomach excitedly. "I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"
You feel your heart flutter, because he's just so handsome and interesting and mature.
". . . but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact..." Professor Lockhart flipped her paper over. "full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"
You and Parvati exchange a look of envy, and you're practically seething in your seat.
Hermione raised a trembling hand.
"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so - to business -"
He bent down behind his desk and lifted up a big covered cage.
"Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."
Finally, all the boys in the class (who were being extremely rude and immature, and not paying attention previously) leaned forward in their seats to get a better look at the cage.
"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."
As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.
"Yes," Professor Lockhart said. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies. "
You hear a loud, rude snort, and sure enough, you turn your head back to see that the noise came from Seamus Finnigan. Of course.
"Yes?" Professor Lockhart inquired.
Seamus suddenly looked a little bashful. "Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.
"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"
The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices shrill enough to hurt everyone's ears. They were grasping and reaching and clawing the air outside the cage against the bars. Their faces were pointed and small, their ears a bit larger than their heads.
"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly, puffing out his chest in a way that looked oh so attractive. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.
The pixies were all out of the cage in a moment flat, shooting in every direction. Somewhere behind you there was the sound of glass shattering, and you jumped for cover under the nearest desk. Parvati crawled under the desk with you before you heard Patty scream loudly, making Parvati drag her under the desk and attempt to comb out the giant nott the pixies had wound with her hair. Pixies were tearing up everything, dropping things to the ground as heard as their spindly arms could.
"Come on now - round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," You heard Lockhart shout.
You momentarily jump out from the desk, to maybe help Professor Lockhart. Unfortunately, you take all of two steps before a pixie swarms in between your legs, causing you to fall and slide under a different desk, almost slamming straight into rude Seamus Finnigan.
Within seconds of meeting his eyes, you feel something tugging hard at a piece of your hair.
He grabs a book from on top of the desk, raising it as high above his head as he can manage under the desk, and smacks the pixie, making it fall through the air and onto the top of a desk far away from the one you're under.
"Thanks." You say quickly, and he nodded his head, tugging his things a little farther under the desk.
Of course Seamus Finnigan blows something else up. He's always doing that.
Unfortunately, it's you who has to walk him to the hospital wing this time. He's looking at you as if you smell of dead frogs, making you want to squash him like a bug. That rude boy.
The two of you walk out, him walking almost as slow as humanly possible, and you're sure it's just to annoy you.
"Would you hurry up?" You call back to him impatiently.
You wait at the end of the hall, tapping your foot as he rolls his eyes at you and makes a rude scoff. You're so irritated, he's just so powerfully messy and annoying and loud and rude.
"How come you're always blowing stuff up?" You ask, letting your hand run along the stone walls.
"Not always." You hear him mutter.
It's your turn to roll your eyes at him now. "They should call you fire Finnigan... no, no flammable Finnigan!" You say, allowing yourself to laugh at his expense.
"What about you?" He says loudly, wiping his face quickly. "Your name is two colors. Lavender Brown."
You're finally at the entrance to the hospital wing, and you couldn't be more glad. Finally you'll get to go back to Charms. "Whatever flammable Finnigan. I'll see you later." You say, choosing not to fight with him anymore.
You skip off down the hall and hope that his burn lasts a long time, because the git deserves it.
The end of the year feast is delicious as always. All the muggleborns that had been petrified are all better now, and everyone says that Harry Potter killed the monster that was attacking them. You feel completely relieved, because now you can actually sleep instead of pulling the covers up to your chin and having nightmares about a big monster coming and gobbling you up in your sleep.
You're excited to get back home, because your mum and dad promised that they'd be home all summer, and that the family might all go on vacation.
Giggling with Parvati over the older boy who pecked an older girl on the cheek, you dig into your food. You'll be sure to write Parvati about the amazing summer you'll have.
A/N: Hi! So again, sort of short, just because they're still young and it's like EW COOTIES. The next chapter should be up soon!
Any direct dialogue you recognize is taken from canon ("Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets" by J. K. Rowling), no copyright infringement intended.
Please review!