Harriet Potter Year 2: The Dreams of Yesterday
"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
~Albert Einstein
Harriet Potter, The Great Hall-November 1, 1992
Harriet made no mention of her dream to Hermione or Ron at breakfast the next morning. She had a feeling they were already worried about her hearing voices, so there was no need to add her scar bothering her to the mix.
She ate another forkful of scrambled eggs and muttered sympathetically to Ron, who was currently bemoaning Scabbers.
"I've looked everywhere for him," he wailed. "It's been months since I saw him last. What if he's hurt? Or dead? Stupid rat, making me worry."
"Isaura hasn't seen him, either," Harriet realized. Her snake would have mentioned it. "I'm surprised. She spends most of her day wandering around the castle. She would have noticed him if he was lying about."
"You always say things like that, Harriet," Hermione mentioned off-handedly. "You talk about Isaura like you can understand her."
Harriet choked on her juice. "Yeah, well, isn't it like that for all people with their pets? I mean, I can sort of understand Hedwig, especially when she's angry with me. And Ron understands Scabbers, right?"
Ron didn't bother answering her. He squirted some catsup onto scrambled eggs, as though he might be able to drown his worries in it.
Harriet pointed her fork at it. "That can't be healthy, mate."
"I don't care," he told her firmly. He took a large bite of the stuff. Harriet rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything.
"We have History of Magic today, right?" Hermione asked. Harriet frowned.
"I think so. Don't know why you're asking me, though. You know our schedule better than I do."
Hermione shrugged. "I was just wondering."
"Why are you so interested in that class all of a sudden?" grumbled Ron. Hermione shot him a glare.
"She wants to know more about the Chamber," Harriet guessed. Hermione looked at Harriet, betrayed. Harriet rolled her eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that, Hermione, everybody wants to know."
"A lot of people have gotten curious," Hermione conceded. "It's just a shame that I've already returned my copy of Hogwarts: A History. All the other copies have been checked out."
"Already?" Harriet asked, surprised. It was very early. She looked around her and, sure enough, students from all houses were huddled into clusters, pouring over the book together. She let out a low whistle.
"I know the Chamber was mentioned," Hermione continued, her face screwed up in concentration, "but I can't seem to remember what the book said."
"You didn't memorize the entire text?" gasped Ron in mock astonishment. "Must've been an off day for you, then."
Hermione snapped, "Just because you're upset because you've lost your rat, Ronald, does not mean you can take it out on me."
"I didn't lose Scabbers!" Ron retorted. "He wandered off!"
"Just like your Potions book wandered off, I suppose," Hermione said scathingly.
Harriet rolled her eyes and gathered her things. "If you want to know more about the Chamber, Hermione, try to bring it up in class today."
Hermione nodded and packed her books away as well. "That was what I was going to do, originally."
"Just don't mention it to Lockhart," Ron said, running to catch up with them as they exited the Great Hall. "He'll just make stuff up."
"Best ask Uncle Moony," Harriet agreed. "At least he'll admit it when he doesn't know what he's talking about."
Harriet Potter, History of Magic Classroom-November 1, 1992
"I don't know what you're talking about," Remus denied vehemently, "and I hardly see what this has to do with our discussion for today."
"I know it's irrelevant," Hermione said, pursuing an answer doggedly, "but you're the History of Magic teacher! If anybody knows anything about the Chamber of Secrets, it's you! Besides, isn't it better that we get our information from you, instead of shoddy, second-hand, sources?"
Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I really should know better by now than to argue with your logic, shouldn't I?"
He was silent for a moment. "As most of you know by now, Hogwarts was founded by four of the brightest and most powerful witches and wizards of the time. Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. For years, three of the founders existed quite peacefully together. One did not."
He paused, knowing very well that most of the students knew which founder it was.
"Slytherin believed that the school should be more selective about the students they accepted. He believed that only students from wizarding families should be allowed entrance into Hogwarts, students otherwise known as purebloods. The other founders would hear nothing of it, so Slytherin left- but not before swearing that he would have the last laugh. He left rumors of a secret room, the Chamber of Secrets, which would only be opened when his heir returned to Hogwarts, ridding the school of Muggleborns for good."
Remus looked around and seeing the anxious glances of a few students, hastened to reassure them.
"Naturally the school has been searched many times, but no sign of any such room has been found."
"Only the hair of Slytherin can open it though!" Crabbe argued. Harriet gaped at him. She hadn't even known he knew how to talk.
"That's the heir of Slytherin, Mr. Crabbe, but I digress. If there was any such Chamber at the school, it would have been found. Some of the greatest wizards in the world have searched the school over the years, including Dumbledore."
"But what's supposed to be in the Chamber, professor?" Hermione prodded.
"The Chamber," Remus winced, "is said to be home to a monster. But it's all just legend, of course."
"But the writing on the wall-" Seamus protested.
"A prank," Remus cut off, "a sinister one, but a prank nonetheless."
"Has the Chamber ever been opened before?" Harriet piped up, remembering her dream.
Remus looked surprised that she had joined in on the discussion, but got over it and shook his head.
"No, it has not. At least, not to my knowledge."
Harriet nodded, accepting his answer for the moment.
"Now, if we're done with that, I suggest we get back to class. No 'buts!'" He added sternly. The groaning subsided and Remus's instruction continued. Harriet paid little attention to it though. Her mind was occupied with more serious matters.
When they had exited the classroom, Ron began to speak almost immediately.
"What kind of monster do you think is inside the Chamber?" wondered Ron aloud. Harriet shrugged, but Hermione looked contemplative.
"I don't know, but Dumbledore wasn't sure how to cure Mrs. Norris. That means that whatever is inside, probably isn't human."
"So you think the Chamber really exists?"
"Of course it does," Hermione said immediately. "Couldn't you tell? Professor Lupin is worried. All the professors are."
"They should be, if they've had to deal with this before." Harriet said without thinking. Hermione and Ron looked at her incredulously.
"Professor Lupin said that the Chamber had never been opened before."
"Yes, but I had this dream," Harriet began relaying the matter to her friends. She finished and they were both silent for a moment.
"It was just a dream, Harriet," Hermione said finally. "We have no reason to take the word of your subconscious over the word of Professor Moony- a man who, may I remind you, you said you would trust with your life!"
"When did I say that?" Harriet asked incredulously.
"It was implied," Hermione admitted after a moment. "But the point still stands, Harriet, that there isn't any evidence to back up your dream. It was probably just the stress."
"The name of the boy, though, Hermione," Harriet persisted. "I've heard it somewhere before!"
"You could've heard it anywhere," Hermione denied.
"But when I woke up, my sca-"
"Look!" Ron pointed out suddenly, eager to interrupt the argument and preventing Harriet from finishing her sentence. "It's the corridor where Mrs. Norris was attacked!"
Harriet, Ron, and Hermione all stopped short, surprised that they had ended up here. There were several different routes to the Great Hall for lunch, but they had chosen this one without even thinking about it.
"Can't hurt to have a poke around," Harriet said innocently. Hermione and Ron answered by dropping their bags and beginning to examine the walls and floor in search of clues.
"Scorch marks!" Ron said surprised. "Look at- gah!"
"What?" Harriet demanded.
"S-spiders," Ron stuttered. He pointed towards a crack in the window. At least twenty spiders were scuttling around it, doing their best to squeeze through. Harriet frowned.
"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?"
"No," admitted Hermione. "It's all very strange."
"What about the water?" Harriet asked. "This hallway was flooded earlier. Where did the water come from?"
"I think it came from here," Ron said, moving towards a door. He stopped short.
"That's the girl's bathroom," he said, turning bright red.
"You've been in the girl's bathroom before," Harriet pointed out reasonably. She took Ron's hand and pulled him into the restroom.
There was a reason nobody used this bathroom. It was probably the gloomiest bathroom in the universe. The lighting was dark, the floors moldy, and not all of the faucets worked. If things couldn't have gotten worse, there also the matter of Moaning Myrtle.
Ron went to say something, but both Harriet and Hermione shushed him.
"We shouldn't be in here," he hissed. "If I get caught-"
"Oh, don't worry about that," denied Harriet. "Nobody comes in here."
"Why not?" Ron asked, confused.
"Moaning Myrtle," Hermione said succinctly.
"Who is Moaning Myrtle?" Ron asked.
"I'm Moaning Myrtle!" screeched a load voice. A slightly chubby girl floated out from one the stalls. Ron jumped backwards in shock. She glared at the three of them through her glasses and sniffed loudly.
"What is he doing here?" she demanded, quite reasonably, Harriet thought, for Myrtle. "He's a boy and this is the girl's bathroom."
"We just wanted to show Ron how nice it is in here, Myrtle," Hermione said hesitantly. Myrtle scoffed and eyed Ron, who was now as pale as she was.
"Really?" Myrtle said hopefully.
"Sure," he nodded after a moment. "I love what you've done with the place. It's very, er, gloomy and whatnot. The mold is a nice touch."
Myrtle let out a squeal and her cheeks grew darker.
"We really need to be going now, Myrtle," Harriet said nervously. "We'll come by and visit another time, alright?"
"Alright," Myrtle said, obviously in better spirits.
"Goodbye, Ron!" She added as an afterthought.
Ron gave her a hesitant wave as he followed Harriet and Hermione out the door and back in to the hall. They each picked up their things and began to head to the Great Hall.
Ron's ears grew pinker with each of Harriet's and Hermione's giggles.
Lily, Snape, and the Marauders, Dumbledore's Office- November 15, 1992
"I have called you hear to discuss a very grave matter," Dumbledore began silently. Snape watched on from the shadows as Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus all exchanged worried glances on the couch.
"I never like it when a conversation starts like that," noted Sirius, but there was apprehension written all over the tense lines of his face.
"I fear that Voldemort is once again growing stronger."
"Voldemort is dead," James bit out. "Even he can't come back to life once he has been killed."
Remus faltered. "He can't. Can he?"
"There are ways," Dumbledore said quietly, "But they are not so much returning from the dead as they are insurance against dying. Are you familiar with the term 'horcrux?'"
Sirius seemed to be the only one who recognized the term. He paled. "Voldemort wouldn't- I mean he couldn't- Did he?"
"I'm afraid he did, Sirius." Dumbledore said gently.
"What?" demanded Lily. "What did he do?"
"A Horcrux is a very powerful object. A Dark witch or wizard can literally split their soul and hide a fragment of it. Later if they are killed, as long as that fragment of the soul is still protected, then they too are protected from true death. It's about as close to immortality as a person can come," explained Sirius.
"How do you know that?" James frowned, looking at his friend in a new light.
Sirius grimaced. "Dear old dad, that's how."
"And you think Voldemort made one of these?" Lily demanded.
Dumbledore picked something up from his desk. It was a black and gold ring. "No, Lily, I know he did."
"That's-"
"Yes." Dumbledore said simply. "You see, after Voldemort attempted to return using Quirrell, my suspicions over his use of Horcruxes returned. I spent many months attempting to track this one down. I found it in the ruins of his childhood home."
"So as long as that Horcrux is still around," Remus clarified, "then Voldemort can still return?"
"Then hurry up and destroy the damn thing!" demanded James.
"It is not that simple." Dumbledore turned the ring to the side, revealing that it had, as a matter of fact, already been cracked. "Destroying a Horcrux is very tricky business. In fact, this particular effort very nearly killed me. If it wasn't for Severus's quick thinking-"
Dumbledore trailed off.
"But that's good, though," James said eagerly. "That means it's destroyed. Voldemort can never return."
"That's where things become even more difficult." Dumbledore said quietly. "I believe that Voldemort had more than one Horcrux."
"Is that even possible?" Sirius demanded. "Surviving that sort of thing-"
"Would be difficult, yes," Dumbledore agreed, "But not impossible. You are forgetting, Sirius, that Voldemort was a very powerful wizard, even in his youth."
"How many do you think he's made?" Lily ventured to ask.
"Seven."
"Seven?" gasped Lily.
"This is all pure speculation, of course," Dumbledore soothed, "but Voldemort was known to have a fascination with all things magical. Seven is, as you know, one of those most magically potent numbers in existence. However, if the Horcruxes are found and destroyed, Voldemort will be just as mortal as any other man."
"That's why we're here." James said. It wasn't a question.
"Why now?" asked Remus.
"Recent events have lead me to believe that Voldemort is once again beginning to regain his strength. If we wait too long, he might come back fully."
"I am not ordering you to do anything. If you were to help me, it would be nothing more than a favor."
"A favor you know we cannot refuse," Sirius said sharply, "considering Harriet's role in the matter."
Dumbledore said nothing.
"Do you even know what the other Horcruxes are?" asked Remus.
"This ring," he held up the ring, "Belonged to Riddle's father. It is my belief that objects such as these, ones that held some sort of personal value, would be used to make a Horcrux."
"You think Voldemort made a Horcrux out of his childhood teddy bear?" Sirius said.
Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Voldemort, however, did always feel as though Hogwarts were his second home. It is likely that objects related to the school's history would have held a special appeal to him. I have spent these many months searching for memories involving Voldemort and, thanks to meticulous research, have indeed come up with several objects that might be Horcruxes."
"What are they?"
"In the course of his lifetime, Voldemort managed to somehow obtain a cup once belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, along with a locket belonging to Slytherin himself."
"What about the other two Houses?" asked James.
"It is possible that Voldemort died before all of his Horcruxes could be completed. However, it might be possible that a Horcrux has been made from an object that we have yet to consider."
"I could do some research," Remus said, already lost in the hundreds of books he had read over his lifetime. "I'm sure I read once about a lost artifact of Ravenclaw-"
"Feel free to use the Potter library," offered James.
"There might be some books in the Black homes and vaults, too," noted Sirius.
"Actually, Sirius," Dumbledore asked, "I believe there might be something far more important in those vaults."
"You think Voldemort might have put a Horcrux in Gringotts?" asked Sirius, eyebrows raised as he contemplated the possibility.
"I believe that Voldemort might have asked one of his followers to guard the Horcrux-whether or not he told them what it was, is a different question. Gringotts is one of the safest places in the Wizarding World. You, as the head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, have the ability to seize any Black holdings, including vaults. As much of your family were members of Voldemort's inner circle-"
"Right," agreed Sirius, not needing Dumbledore to finish. "I could start with the vaults already under the Black name, then move onto the Lestrange and Malfoy holdings."
"There might be something at one of the houses, too," noted James. He looked at his friend. "I could help you search them."
Sirius smiled in grateful relief. He was loathed to spend any more time in those houses than needed, so the fact that his friend was willing to help him comforted him immensely.
"Even if more of the Horcruxes are located, there is still the problem of destroying them. I was hoping, Lily, given your proficiency in Charms and Potions, that you might work with Severus to develop a method of safely destroying them. You worked well in your schooldays."
"I would be happy to," said Lily, smiling at her old friend. James glared at him for a moment, but quickly dropped the look when Lily scowled at him.
"If we can find those Horcruxes and destroy them," Dumbledore said quietly, "Voldemort will be able to finally die. Harriet might be spared the awful task that was set before her so many years ago."
Harriet Potter, Quidditch Pitch-November 15, 1992
Harriet woke up that morning feeling incredibly well rested. The day before, she and Remus had been several more hours working on her patronus. Harriet felt as though she were making incredibly slow progress, but Remus assured her that he was doing well.
"You're parents couldn't have done better," he had praised, when she managed to create a bright cloud of light and repel the boggart Remus had found.
(As luck would have it, Harriet's boggart turned into a dementor, something Harriet had learned during one of their defence lessons).
This morning, though, was not the time to worry about Patronuses and boggarts. Now was the time to focus on Quidditch. Specifically, the Quidditch match today between Slytherin and Gryffindor. The first ever with Malfoy on the team. Considering their last encounter, Harriet was understandably excited to beat Malfoy today.
Hermione and Ron were also looking forward to the game. Even though there had been no other attacks, the atmosphere around the school had been understandably tense. The game would be a nice distraction. They bid Harriet luck and made their way towards the stands. That was when Hermione noticed something.
"Ron, does that look like Harriet's family?"
Ron frowned and squinted, trying to see through the lightly drizzling rain. Sure enough, it looked as though Harriet's parents and Sirius were trying to make their way to the Quidditch pitch. He nodded and Hermione tugged on his arm.
"Let's go say hello!" she ordered.
"Did you know they would be here?" Ron asked.
Hermione shook her head. "No. Neither did Harriet, I think."
They made it to Harriet's family slightly out of breath. Hermione smiled and said, "Hello!"
Sirius started, the laughed. "Where did you come from, Hermione? Hello!"
"It's a pleasure to see you," Hermione said politely, nudging Ron, who nodded in agreement. "Are you here to see Harriet play?"
"We actually had some things to discuss with Remus," James said hesitantly.
"It just so happened to coincide with Harriet's game, then?" Hermione asked knowingly. James grinned sheepishly.
"Well, we've never seen Harriet fly in a match before," James admitted.
Ron frowned sympathetically. "Never?"
He had seen Harriet fly several times and always enjoyed it, even if he himself was stuck on the stands. His friend loved it so much and was so good at it, she made it great to watch and Ron wouldn't have been surprised if she went professional one day.
"No," Sirius sighed wistfully.
"Well then you are in for a treat!" Hermione cooed. "Why don't you come to sit with us?"
"We were just going to go sit with Remus-" Lily began.
"Why?" Ron frowned. "The view is much better from where the students sit and the teacher's booth is always crowded."
"We would love to have you," Hermione added, "And Hagrid would probably love to see you, too."
"We haven't seen Hagrid in a while," conceded James, letting Hermione pull him towards the stand. Sure enough, they found the large man squeezed among the other students. When he saw them, he grinned hugely.
"Lily! James! Sirius! I didn't know yeh'd be here!"
"We didn't really know either," Lily said, chuckling as she embraced him.
"Yeh here to see Harriet play," Hagrid nodded. "She'll be happy to know you're here."
"The game is starting!" Hermione squealed.
"You're excited," Ron noted. Hermione shrugged.
"Which one is Harriet?" Lily asked, squinting through the pouring rain.
"The smallest one," Ron and Hermione said simultaneously. Hagrid snorted as Lily was now able to locate her daughter with ease.
Up in the air, Harriet was having trouble locating the snitch. The rain made it difficult to see. Hermione had magicked her glasses to repel water, which helped, but the rain itself made it very dark. On the upside, Malfoy was having just as difficult a time, and Harriet had the added advantage of experience.
Harriet narrowly dodged a Bludger that had flow precariously close to her head.
"Close call, Harriet!" called George, hitting it out of the way. Harriet gripped her broom tighter and performed a complicated, sharp, half-turn maneuver to once again avoid the Bludger as it shot around like a boomerang back at her.
"That Bludger is chasing Harriet!" cried Lily, frantically tugging at her husband's sleeve. "Why is it doing that?"
"I don't know!" James said helplessly, watching as his daughter did her best to avoid the bludger. He winced as it whizzed particularly close to her head.
"I can stop it-" Sirius began pulling his wand out, but Lily stopped him.
"Don't you dare!" She chided. "Even a fully trained Auror could have a problem making a shot like this! You might hit Harriet!"
"At least the Bludger won't!" Ron said optimistically. Lily sniffled and looked at it. "It's no match for Harriet."
"That's right!" agreed Hermione, nudging Hagrid. "Harriet could outfly anything!"
"True," Hagrid said gruffly at Hermione's prodding. "See, look!"
Sure enough, they could barely make out a red blur flying through the storm, artfully dodging the Bludger. Harriet aimed directly at one of the walls of the stadium, flying directly at it as fast as she could. At the last minute, she jerked her broom out of the way.
The Bludger wasn't so lucky.
The sound of splintering wood made Lily flinch, but the rest of the stadium applauded. Harriet stopped flying for a moment, doing her best to catch her breath. All of the spinning had begun to make her a bit dizzy.
Floating in front of her, Malfoy laughed.
"Training for the ballet, Potter?" he called. Harriet scowled at him, but tried not to answer. Focusing instead on finding the Snitch before the Bludger found her.
That was when Harriet saw it, glittering right by Malfoy's ear. She didn't think, instead she just lunged for it. Malfoy let out an indignant squeak, thinking that she was attacking him again. When he realized that she had seen the Snitch, he scowled and chased after her.
"That Bludger is still following her!" Sirius said, annoyed.
"That's been tampered with, that has!" Hagrid said angrily, jabbing his finger in the Bludger's general direction.
"Oh be careful, Harriet," Hermione warned, biting her fingers, finally letting some of her own apprehension show through.
Harriet had flown underneath the stadium, following the Snitch with sheer determination. She weaved-over, under, left, under again-through the wooden support beams. Behind her, she could hear the Bludger simply crashing through them. She vaguely wondered how much damage was being done and whether or not she would be blamed for it.
A sharp nudge to her ribs made her realize that Malfoy had finally caught up with her. She scowled and shoved him back. He was larger than she was, though, so when he turned his broom into her to force her off course, it worked.
Teeth set in determination, she crouched low to her broom and edged it faster to catch up with him. The Bludger, she suddenly realized, had disappeared. She didn't really like the sound of that so, when it showed up a moment later by crashing through the wall in front of them, Harriet was fully prepared to duck.
Malfoy wasn't.
He yelled in surprise as the Bludger caught the end of his broom, sending him flipping into the air, landing head first into the grass. He groaned and clutched his stomach a bit.
At this point, Harriet was flying well above the sight of the spectators, above the clouds, surrounded by the rain and the thunder and lightning. She could see the Snitch in front of her and almost feel the Bludger behind her.
Take Harriet! Take Harriet and run!
No!
Having heard those voices in her head so many times during her Patronus lessons with Remus, Harriet knew exactly where they were coming from, even though she wasn't too sure why the were on the Quidditch Pitch.
Her eyes widened as she suddenly found herself surrounded by Dementors. She pulled her broom sharply to the left, avoiding one.
So cold.
Harriet dove, desperately trying to keep away from their open mouths. Every inch of her body was shaking from the cold, her fingers clumsily holding on to her broom.
With dogged determination, Harriet let go of the broom and reached for the Snitch, which she had somehow not lost sight of.
So close.
A Dementor flew into her path, and she veered sharply. Sharp pain in her right shoulder.
The Bludger.
She had lost track of it and it had hit her, hard. She was now holding onto the broom with one arm- now just her knees-
She was falling.
There was screaming.
"Harriet!" Lily cried.
In the teacher's stand, Dumbledore raised his hand. The skin around his finger was dry and black, as though he had suffered a bad burn and was slowly recovering. His voice rang out even in the clamor of the stadium.
"Arresto Momentum!"
Harriet's parents almost sighed with relief as Harriet floated gently to the ground. They could see Madam Pomfrey running onto the field and knew that they should leave her to her work. Sirius nudged his two friends and put his arms around the kid's shoulders to guide them.
"Let's head to the Hospital Wing," he said. "Madam Pomfrey will bring Harriet there in just a minute."
They group barely had time to pull back the sheets on the one of the beds when Madam Pomfrey entered, Harriet levitated gently next to her. Instead of her usual, cheerful, self, she was clearly angry.
At first, Lily guessed that it was because Dementors were allowed on the field, but then heard her mumbling something about Lockhart as she settled her daughter on the bed. That's when she noticed something else.
"Madam Pomfrey," she frowned, "What happened to Harriet's arm?"
"Ew," Ron said, when he realized what Harriet's mum had meant. Harriet's arm looked like a piece of soft rubber.
"That idiot Lockhart," said Remus said, striding into the room, his face thunder. Snape slid in behind him silently and shut the door, keeping out the Quidditch team eagerly wanting to see if their Seeker was okay.
"What about him?" James said distractedly, not tearing his eyes from his unconscious daughter's form.
"Harriet's arm was broken from the Bludger," Remus seethed. "That imbecile thought he could heal her and removed all the bones from her arm!"
"Well where is he now?" demanded Sirius.
Remus rolled his eyes. "Probably hiding from you in his office."
"What do you have to say about him now, Hermione?" Ron demanded.
"Everybody makes mistakes." Hermione sniffed. "Besides, Madam Pomfrey can fix her, can't you?"
"Of course I can," Madam Pomfrey. "She's fine, aside from her arm. Unfortunately, I'll have to keep her overnight. I can mend bones and a heartbeat, but growing them back-"
Madam Pomfrey huffed and went off to look for some Skele-Gro.
"Harriet won't be too happy about spending the night," Lily tutted.
"She won't be able to argue that she doesn't need it, though," Ron pointed out. "She looks awful."
Hermione scowled at him. "Let throw you from a broom hundreds of feet in the air and feed you to Dementors- see how you look!"
"Probably a right sight better than he normally does," muttered a voice from the bed. Everybody looked down to see a slightly disoriented Harriet looking up at them. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Somebody handed her glasses and she put them on single-handedly because one of her arms was actually feeling a bit odd.
She looked down at it and blinked.
"Lockhart really did it," she said in awe. "He made all of my bones disappear. I thought I was dreaming."
"Sadly not, love," her mum said ruefully. Harriet realized that her mother was here. She smiled gleefully and tried to wrap her good arm around her. Her mother laughed and hugged her, followed by the rest of her family and friends.
Snape, standing by the corner, just glared harder at her. She grinned cheekily at him.
"What are you two doing here?"
"We had to talk to Dumbledore about something," her father said uneasily. He smiled at her after, though. "We were excited to see you play, though! You flew brilliantly. I can't begin to tell you how proud I am, Prongslette."
"We didn't win, though," Harriet said ruefully.
"But you didn't lose," Ron pointed out. "Malfoy didn't catch the Snitch either. They're holding a rematch soon."
"Nobody blames you, Harriet," Hermione said gently, "the Dementors aren't supposed to come onto the school grounds. Dumbledore was furious. He sent them off immediately."
"There's something else," Ron said worriedly. He shot a glance at her family and held out a bundled cloth. He opened it and Harriet blanched when she saw the shattered remains of her broom.
"It flew into the Whomping Willow after you fell," Ron said sadly. Harriet didn't say anything, but she her eyes began to water. She felt like such a baby crying over her broom, but it had been such a good broom.
"Oh, Harriet," soothed her mother, wrapping her in a gentle hug, making sure to be careful of her wounded arm.
"Are you going to stay the night?" Harriet asked sleepily.
"Harriet, we can't," her mother said apologetically. "We all have work to do tomorrow."
"But it's the weekend," Harriet protested.
"It's non-work related work," Sirius said weakly. Harriet was too knackered to be suspicious of him, but comforted herself in the fact that Hermione was more than suspicious enough for the both of them
With that thought in mind, she drifted off to sleep.
Harriet Potter, Hospital Wing-November 16, 1992
They were seated in Slughorn's office, surrounded by half a dozen boys, all on lower seats than theirs.
Who?
Professor Slughorn.
They played with a gold and black ring on their finger as they asked Slughorn. "Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"
"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," said Slughorn, winking at them. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."
She was Tom again.
No, they had always been Tom.
They smiled; the other boys laughed and cast them admiring looks.
"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter — thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favorite —"
Why had they bought him pineapple?
Slughorn needs to answer their questions.
Slughorn looked at the clock.
"Good gracious, is it that time already?" said Slughorn, raising an eyebrow. "You'd better get going, boys, or we'll all be in trouble."
Slughorn stood up from the armchair as the boys left. They waited until they were alone and watched as Slughorn put his empty glass away.
Now was the time to ask.
"Look sharp, Tom," Slughorn warned. "You don't to be caught out of bed late-"
"Yes sir," they said, "But I wanted to ask you something before I left."
"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…"
"Sir, I wondered what you know about Horcruxes?"
About what?
Slughorn didn't say anything. He tapped the desk for a moment, before finally clearing his throat.
"Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?"
No.
Not even close.
"Not quite, sir," they said easily. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."
That was a lie.
Was it?
Yes, they had understood.
They just needed the reassurance.
"Of course you wouldn't have," Slughorn said. "It's very dark stuff, Tom. Not the sort of thing you'd easily find in books at Hogwarts."
"But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you — sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously —I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could—so I just thought I'd–"
They were careful.
They had to casual and hesitant, but not overdone.
Wheedling information from reluctant people was an art. One that they were particularly good at.
"Well," Slughorn said, sounding pleased, "I suppose it can't hurt to tell you a bit. Just an overview, of course. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."
That's awful.
No, it's brilliant.
The excitement built within them.
"You split your soul, you see," Slughorn continued, "And then hide a part of it in an object outside of the body. If your body is then ever destroyed or attacked, you cannot truly die, since a part of your soul lives on, unharmed and earthbound."
Yes, they already knew that. There was something more important that they needed to know.
"That sort of existence, Tom," Slughorn shook his head. "Death would be preferable."
"But how do you split your soul?"
"Well," said Slughorn hesitantly, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature. As such, splitting requires an act of supreme evil. Murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: He would encase the torn portion —"
No, they couldn't kill somebody.
Why not? They had already done it.
When?
They needed more information.
"Encase? But how —?"
"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" said Slughorn panicking. "Do I look like a killer-"
"No, sir, of course not," they said quickly.
They needed him on their side.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to offend…"
"Of course you didn't," Slughorn said after a moment. "I understand. It's natural to feel curiosity. Wizards of a certain caliber often do."
They were beyond a "certain caliber."
Far beyond it.
Slughorn had no idea.
"What I don't understand, though, Sir- I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Could you-hypothetically-split your soul more than once? Wouldn't it be more secure to have your soul in, say, seven pieces, since it's such a powerfully magical number-"
"Don't say things like that, Tom!" Slughorn gasped. "Isn't it bad enough to think of dividing the soul- but into seven pieces-"
Slughorn was looking at them regretfully.
He was onto them
They didn't care.
They were buzzing with excitement.
"Please keep this quiet, Tom," he said after a moment. "It's a sensitive subject and banned at Hogwarts. Dumbledore is very fierce about it..."
"I won't say a word, sir," they said.
They turned around and left, smiling the whole way.
Harriet woke up with a pair of wide eyes staring at her and a damp cloth held to her forehead. She sat up straight and instantly regretted it. Her arm was tingling and felt as though it were filled with dozens of sharp, wooden splinters. She fell back onto the pillow and groped for her glasses.
She put them on.
"Dobby!" she hissed. "What are you doing here?"
The elf looked almost exactly as Harriet remembered. His eyes were wide and bright in the darkness. Harriet could just see him wringing the damp cloth, getting a bit of water on the sheets.
"Harriet Potter didn't listen. She came back to school," sniffed Dobby. Harriet watched as he blew his nose loudly into the rag. Harriet really hoped he didn't try to wipe her forehead again. "Ah, miss, why didn't Harriet Potter go back home when she missed the train to school?"
Harriet lifted herself up on her good arm and glared at Dobby.
"How did you get in here?" she demanded. "And how did you know that Ron and I didn't catch the train? Unless-it was you! You stopped the barrier from letting us through, didn't you?"
"Indeed yes," said Dobby,
"Dobby is sorry, but Dobby hid and watched for Harriet Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward" — he showed Harriet his hands, which were bandaged clumsily- "but Dobby didn't care, for he thought Harriet Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that Harriet Potter would get to school another way!"
Harriet didn't say anything, admittedly feeling just a bit guilty for the pathetic, little, house-elf.
"Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harriet Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir!"
"You nearly got Ron and me expelled," she hissed angrily, all guilt forgotten. "You had better get out of here before my bones come back, Dobby, or I just might have to strangle you!"
"Dobby is used to death threats. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."
Harriet didn't really know what to say to that. Instead, she watched as Dobby wiped his eyes on the ratty pillowcase he wore.
"Why do you wear that thing, Dobby?" Harriet asked sympathetically, recalling the time when she had been forced to wear Dudley's old hand-me-downs.
"This, miss ?" said Dobby, pulling at the outfit. "'Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, miss. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever."
"I don't suppose you can tell me who your masters are, then?" Harriet asked ruefully, wishing she could help.
Dobby nodded, then said suddenly, "Harriet Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make —"
"Your Bludger?" Harriet said, anger growing. "Are you mental? That thing almost killed me!"
"No! Not kill you! Never kill you!" Dobby denied. "Dobby only meant to get Harriet Potter sent home! He did not realize the Dementors would be at the field!"
"Are the Dementors what you were trying to warn me about earlier, Dobby?" Harriet asked curiously.
"The evil here at Hogwarts is far more dark than just the Dementors, Harriet Potter," said Dobby, eyes wide. "Here at Hogwarts, terrible things are about to happen and Harriet Potter must leave. History is repeating itself. The Chamber of Secrets will be open once more."
"You mean the Chamber has been opened before?" Harriet said eagerly, thinking back to her dream. "But who opened it? When?"
"Dobby cannot say!" Dobby squeaked, tugging desperately at his ears. Harriet shushed him, trying to calm him down.
"But Dobby, I am not a muggle-born. How can I be in danger from the Chamber?"
"There are dark magics afoot, Harriet Potter," Dobby whimpered. "Miss Potter has no idea of the evil to come."
Dobby froze suddenly, straining his ears. Harriet heard it, too. Mumblings in the corridor. Dobby squeaked and left with a loud crack. Harriet had no time to protest. She slumped back into bed, but her eyes never left the dark doorway.
Dumbledore entered, carrying the end of something in his arms. McGonagall entered with the other end. Snape followed quietly. Together, the two professors lifted the object onto the bed and placed the covers over it.
"Get Madam Pomfrey," instructed Dumbledore. McGonagall left.
Snape turned to Dumbledore. "It is what you feared, Headmaster."
"I dare say it is, Severus," Dumbledore responded softly.
"Has he regained full strength, do you think?" Snape asked. Harriet strained to listen. Dumbledore shook his head slowly.
"No, not yet, things would be far worse if he had, but he is getting stronger. We must act quickly, now. Time is of the essence. Are you and Lily-"
"Yes," Snape answered. "We are making progress. Black has been working on gaining access to the Lestrange vaults, as well. There is a fair chance that he will find something in there."
"And Mr. Lupin?"
"He has already collected a large number of books from the Potter library. He is no doubt pouring over them now."
"Good, good," Dumbledore sighed. He stared down at the lump on the bed. "These are grave times, indeed. The signs were there for so long, but I missed them. Now, I fear it is too late. If he has somehow managed to open the Chamber once again, if he has infiltrated the school in any way-"
"Perhaps it is not him. Somebody else might be doing this."
"You do not believe that, Severus."
"No, headmaster, I do not." He was quiet for a moment. "What do we tell Miss Potter?"
"Nothing, Severus."
"This concerns her."
"It does indeed, but she is young and these matters are grave. She is far better off not knowing, for the time being."
"Surely you learnt your mistakes from last year," Snape sighed, looking exasperated. "She is as nosey as her father was at that age."
"She has no reason to be suspicious of anything going on. She knows no more than the rest of the school, and they are all blissfully in the dark."
"She can speak Parseltongue."
"I am aware."
"Does that not complicate things?"
"We do not know where the Chamber is, Severus. Neither does she. For now, she is as safe as any other."
Her Uncle Snape went to argue, but McGonagall returned with Madam Pomfrey.
"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed.
"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs."
"What was he doing out of bed?" fussed Madam Pomfrey.
"We think he might have been coming to visit Miss Potter."
Harriet felt her stomach clench. She slowly raised herself off the bed to get a better look. On the bed, Harriet could barely make out the still form of Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and frozen in a picture of fear. He held his camera out in front of him.
"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. Nobody said anything for a moment, just staring at Colin. Then Dumbledore reached forward and carefully wrangled the camera from Colin's grip.
"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" asked Professor McGonagall.
Dumbledore didn't bother answering. Instead, he opened the camera gently. There was a jolt of steam and Harriet could smell burning plastic. answer. He opened the back of the camera.
"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.
"It means," said Dumbledore gravely, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."
Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.
"But, Albus… surely… who?"
"The question is not who," said Dumbledore. Harriet recalled the conversation between Dumbledore and Snape. It seemed Dumbledore had a very good idea about who had been opening the Chamber.
Dumbledore continued. "The question is, how…"
And if Dumbledore didn't know the answer, Harriet realized, just how safe could the school be?
AN: Here it is! The next chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!
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