Note: I'm incredibly humbled by the response to this story. I wasn't expecting...much of anything actually. To have received the response it did is just mind blowing. So thank you. For reading, reviewing, and enjoying.

Please. Keep doing so.

On with the story.

CHAPTER FOUR: HIDDEN MYSTERIES, cont'd

To Harry's shame, his first thought upon learning of Lavender's disappearance was; who's she? Luckily, Hermione noticed his clueless look and pulled him aside while Professor McGonagall talked with the other Gryffindors.

"Has she really gone missing?" He whispered.

"Yes. No one knows anything. She was on her way to dinner, and then she never came. Dumbledore noticed something was wrong right away." Hermione hissed back. Behind them McGonagall was lecturing about the safety of moving in groups until the incident-that's what she called it-was resolved.

She put on a brave face, but Harry had a knack for spotting a lying adult. It came in handy around Christmas and birthdays. McGonagall's face was impassive, stern, business as usual. But her eyes...they told another story. She was scared. Very scared. And lying. She told them all that Lavender had likely fallen asleep somewhere, perhaps in an empty classroom, of which there were many. Her eyes said she didn't believe a word of it.

"McGonagall knows something." Harry muttered to Hermione, who looked between the Scottish witch and him.

"How can you tell?"

"Her eyes. They're like mum's when she says where she's hidden the Christmas presents. She's lying."

Hermione frowned, and he watched her bring the full strength of her dizzying intellect to bear on Professor McGonagall. He waited for her to come to a conclusion. Either she'd disagree, which he hoped she would, or she wouldn't. If she agreed with him it was time to become very afraid. Not much later, Harry had his answer.

"You're right." Hermione whispered, and Harry's heart sank.

He really, really hated it when he was right. It was never about anything good.

The days following Lavender's disappearance were full of suspicion and whispers. Nobody went anywhere alone, most groups traveled with a teacher. Where did she go? Had she left? Had someone taken her? Had she simply vanished into one of the myriad secrets of Hogwarts castle? There were so many questions, and the professors had answers, but as the days passed and Lavender remained unfound, their answers rang more and more hollow.

Harry didn't know what to believe, other than that she was gone. He made sure to be around Neville and Hermione whenever he could, even skipping class to be with them. Whatever it was that took Lavender wasn't getting them. He wouldn't let it. He promised himself and them that he'd keep them safe. For their part Hermione and Neville reassured him that everything would be okay.

"After all," Neville had joked. "who would mess with the friends of someone who killed a wraith in single combat?"

On November first an answer was found.

A message had been written on second floor corridor, by the unused girl's bathroom. On the stone wall outside, written in blood, was;

THE CHAMBER HAS OPENED.

THE HEIR HAS AWOKEN.

HOGWARTS WILL BURN.

"You see that?" Malfoy shouted, eyes alight with glee. His pale face was unusually flushed. "Watch out, Mudbloods, the Heir is coming for you!"

"That will be quite enough, Mr. Malfoy. See Mr. Filch tomorrow evening for your detention." Professor Flitwick had come through the crowd applying stinging hexes to the knees of anyone in his way. Harry, the last person to be stung, rubbed his knee as the diminutive man examined the writing on the wall. He watched Professor Flitwick pace back and forth in front of it, muttering to himself for a good minute before snapping his wand through a series of gestures too quick for the eye to follow.

A silver shape sprang into being and darted away into a wall.

"Everyone stay back!" Flitwick shouted. "the Headmaster is on his way!"

Moments later Dumbledore arrived. Students backed away from him as he approached. The same power he wore about him that Harry had seen last year sheeted off him like rain. Here was the man not be trifled with. Gone was the odd, pleasant old Heamaster. Here was the sharpest mind in two centuries.

Harry was filled with the greatest relief by his presence.

Without a word Dumbledore went to the wall. He traced the words with his fingers, brows furrowed. A moment later he paled, then drew his wand and again moved it too fast for Harry to follow. "Filius," he said, voice hoarse. "Please escort the students to the Great Hall and do a roll call. Once you are done, seal the Hall and send the ghosts and professors to me. I will be here. Go now."

People were already moving by the time Professor Flitwick started shouting for them to follow him. As they distanced themselves from Dumbledore, the effect of his aura diminished and soon conversation sprung up. Speculation ran wild.

"I've never read anything about any chambers," Hermione was saying to Neville, who paid rapt attention. "Nor is their any mention of an heir in any of the Hogwarts reference books."

"Do you think it has something to do with Lavender?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Harry said, finality in his tone. "There's no way it doesn't. Also, Hermione, there's no mention of a chamber or heir in any book? Anywhere?"

"Yes."

"Maybe there's a reason for that." Hermione frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Surprisingly, it was Neville who had the answer. "How do you keep something hidden in a place surrounded by legend and full of people for half a year?"

Her eyes widened. "Omit it from the books. Of course, how could I have not have seen that? I was looking for what was there, not what wasn't. Neville, you're brilliant!" she then drove any thoughts of anything from Neville's mind by kissing him firmly on the cheek.

Red faced, they entered the Great Hall. Harry followed, laughing. For a moment, at least, all was forgotten. But the mystery lay just outside the massive doors, waiting to be solved. He knew the way his luck ran he'd end up a part of it.

That didn't stop him from hoping he was wrong.

He stared at where the entrance to the sixth floor corridor used to be. The air was still full of dust, and his ears still rang with the sound of collapsing stone. It had frozen him. The first crack had sent him back in his mind and stopped him in his tracks. It was only through the grace of a small, floppy eared being that he was still alive.

Said being was shaking dust from its tunic, which upon closer inspection turned out to bee a tea cozy. It had unnaturally large eyes that stuck out slightly. There was a bruise on its forehead that looked old, and it had bandages around its hands.

"Thanks for saving me," Harry said. He coughed. "But who are you?"

The little thing smiled up at him. "I is being Dobby, Harry Potter. You is being welcome."

A large part of his mind was occupied with the fact that someone had, just moments ago, tried to kill him. The rest of it had a single object of focus.

Dobby, whatever he was, knew his name.

If he knew that...

"Dobby, do you know what's going on here?"

Dobby's eyes grew wider and fearful. "Dobby does, but he is being forbidden to speak of it! Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter, but a house elf cannot disobey his master's orders!"

Harry had a sinking suspicion he knew which family Dobby, evidently a house elf, worked for. But first he wanted to sit down. Or maybe throw up. The stairs seemed as good enough a place for both as any. He sat and put his head between his knees, breathing deeply.

"Is Harry Potter being okay?"

The squeaked question brought his eyes back up. The little elf, covered in dust, looking at him with concern on every feature.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks. Listen," he forced his mind to work and succeeded somewhat. "who is your family, or can you not tell me that?"

Dobby shook his head. Harry thought.

"Okay, can you tell me if they have something to do with what's going on here?"

Dobby nodded.

"Great, thanks." He tried to get his brain to work in something approaching linear thoughts. Come on, Harry, think!, a voice that sounded a lot like Hermione said. So he did. If Dobby couldn't outright tell Harry who he worked for, and they had something to do with Lavender's disappearance, then...

He sighed, and dropped his face into his hands. "Dobby," he said tiredly. "can I guess who your family is?"

"Harry Potter can, but Dobby cannot say yes."

"Can you say no?"

A long, thoughtful silence. "Yes."

"Okay," it didn't take long, and there wasn't a giant list of people he suspected. "the Bones'?"

"No, Harry Potter."

"The Longbottoms?"

"No, Harry Potter."

"Me?"

"Regrettably, no, Harry Potter."

"Is it the Malfoys?"

Silence.

Harry's heart sunk. "Thanks, Dobby. You better get out of here before someone shows up." the little elf vanished with a crack. He didn't look up. He was still trying to process nearly dying, and the knowledge of who had attempted it. He snorted. At least one good thing had come. He now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was important enough for Lucius Malfoy to want dead.

That was just great.

Hermione would be thrilled.

"Evanesco." a familiar Scottish accent came through the dusty air. A hum of magic on Harry's arm hairs and the dust vanished, revealing the shocked face of one Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Potter...what happened now?"

He swallowed. "I think...someone just tried to kill me, Professor."

Now seemed like as good a time as any to throw up.

So he did.

Harry considered it a mark of his continuing maturity that he was in the Headmaster's office for something other than beating up or exploding Malfoy. That, or he was still on shock. Dumbledore sat across from him with a worried look on his old face. His hands, palms together, rested against his chin.

"You are absolutely certain of this, Mr. Potter?"

Harry returned the searching look and gestured to himself. He was covered in dust and there was blood on his sleeve from where a stray piece of stone had nicked his arm. "I'm pretty sure I know when a stone archway tries to fall on me, sir."

"Oh!" Dumbledore waved an irritated hand. "Not that! You have stated that someone has tried to kill you. I want you to be aware of the consequences of such an accusation. I have to report this to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They will conduct an investigation. If they find something, they will take action. If not, there is nothing I can do. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." Harry said, swallowing. The old wizard looked tired, more than he had ever seen him look before. There were bags under those electric blue eyes and there were more frown lines than before. Hesitantly, Harry asked, "You believe me, don't you?"

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "We both know the answer to that, Mr. Potter. Someone has been trying to kill you since the day you were born. Just because Voldemort failed doesn't mean his followers won't stop trying."

Harry paled as something occurred to him. "Malfoy's dad. Was he one of those followers?"

"Yes."

He took a deep breath and let it out, slowly. "Sir, I think Lucius Malfoy tried to have me killed today."

"Is this an official accusation, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore sighed. "I'll make the call. I trust you can see yourself out."

Just as Harry left he saw the old wizard throw a handful of powder into the fireplace and stick his head in. Wondering what exactly had just happened, he left and went back to the common room. He had a lot to tell Hermione and Neville. Maybe with their help he could figure out what exactly had just happened, and why Dumbledore had looked so defeated.

"Hey, Harry! I was just looking for-God's wounds, what happened?"

Harry blinked at Neville. "What? Oh." he was still covered in dust. He rubbed absently at one of the tears in his robes, not noticing the worried looks the common room was giving him. Then he laughed, more sob than anything. "Hey, Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?" her voice was soft, her expression worried.

"You remember how you said I wasn't important enough for Malfoy's dad to want dead?"

"I didn't mean-"

"You were wrong. I am. He does."

Neville swore colorfully under his breath. It was a mark of Hermione's shock, Harry thought, that she didn't scold him for it. He sat down between them on the couch and stared at his dusty, scuffed hands. He felt the cushion to his right shift and heard Neville's low voice murmuring to the rest of the room.

Hermione took his hand. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"No. I mean, I don't think so. Bit of stone caught my arm, but I think I'm okay."

"Then what's wrong?"

He took a slow, deep breath, and wondered if his stomach would ever resembled its original shape. "Malfoy's dad wanting me dead. I'm scared, Hermione. So scared. It was different with the wraith. I found him, he hurt me, then a week later it was all over. This...it's different. I don't know how, but it's different. I just," he cut himself off when his voice started cracking. His eyes welled and Hermione squeezed his hand. A few tears escaped and tracked down his cheeks. "I don't think I like it here anymore. I want to go home."

He squeezed her hand and felt one on his shoulder. "Whatever you do," Neville said. "We're here for you, Harry."

Harry covered Neville's hand with his own and gave Hermione a watery smile. "Thanks, guys."

"That goes for us, too." He looked up, shocked, to see Gryffindor standing around him. The girl who'd just spoken still had her Quidditch leathers on. Behind her he saw the rest of his house with the same expression on their faces.

He wasn't alone.

Harry didn't know of words strong enough to convey his gratitude for that.

The investigation, led by a terrifyingly scarred man called Moody, lasted three weeks. Aurors turned the school inside out and interviewed the entire student body. Some, Harry noticed, more than once. As the days passed and nothing came up, his fears grew.

He didn't want this for him. Well, he did, but it wasn't because he was attacked and wanted retribution. Why he was doing this, what he wanted from it all, was simply to be safe. Lucius Malfoy free and able to do what he wanted was, it seemed, an opponent of that. He didn't want to be afraid anymore.

When the investigation turned up nothing, the bottom dropped out of Harry's stomach. Dinner, which he'd been in the middle of eating when he got the news, didn't look as appetizing as it had not moments before. He pushed his plate away from him and raced to his room, ignoring the shouts that followed him out of the Great Hall. He tore through his trunk for writing materials, and blotted ink over the letter in his haste to write it out.

Help me. Someone's trying to kill me, and the police can't do anything about it cuz he's got the PM in his pocket. I'm scared and I don't want to be here anymore. Come and get me please.

Harry

He rolled the letter and slipped it into his pocket. He ran back out through the portrait hole and sprinted towards the owlrey. Hallway shadows seemed to leap out at him, and every painting watched him silently. Forty feet from the door to Hedwig and safety, he ran into something that made him skid to a halt.

It was Malfoy, and what seemed like every male fifth-year in Slytherin. And none of them looked happy.

Not here. Harry looked around wildly. Not now. There was no escape. He took a deep breath and reined himself in. He could do this. Calm, Harry. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Malfoy was vibrating with barely contained rage. His pale face was flushed, his wand was gripped in a tight hand and shooting green sparks from the tip. "You," he snarled. "accused my House of attempted murder."

"I did."

"Why?"

Harry stared. Did he really not know? "Your dad tried to kill me. Dropped a corridor on me. If it weren't for a house elf called Dobby I'd be dead."

He didn't know what he said, but every trace of Malfoy's anger vanished. He paled even beyond what he normally was and almost dropped his wand. "What?"

"Your dad. Tried. To kill me."

Malfoy shook his head. "He couldn't have. He wouldn't. You're lying!" he slashed his wand at Harry, sending something dark and vicious his way. Malfoy watched the spell leave his wand, shocked.

Harry held up a hand. A shield of woven gold light sprang into being and deflected the curse into the ceiling. He danced out from under it. "What are you doing?" He shouted. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"No, I didn't-" Malfoy was cut off by an older, uglier boy.

"Kill the Golden Boy?" He grinned nastily. "Sounds like a good idea."

"Carrow, don't-" Malfoy tried again, but was silenced by a glare. He looked around wildly, backing away from the Slytherins and towards the stairs to the dungeon. Harry watched, completely bewildered.

It almost cost him his head. Magic, sharp and lethal, sliced through the air not centimeters from his head. Harry dodged out of the way of the next spell and held up his hands again. A dome of the same woven light circled him, spinning the spells away from him. He crouched and held his hands over his head, sustaining the shield against the pounding it was receiving.

The drain was immense, but he held on. "Stop!" he screamed. "Stop it!"

Over the din, no one heard him. He doubted they'd have stopped anyway. Dust flew, heralded by chunks of shrapnel from the walls and ceiling. Explosions left scorch marks on the walls as the majority of Slytherin house tried to kill him.

Until, that is, the single most powerful disarming spell Harry had ever seen ripped the wands from their hands. They flew past him, and he spun to follow their trajectory. They landed in a clatter at the feet of a furious Albus Dumbledore.

Harry had never seen anything more intimidating. Even the wraith would have run from that face. There was no trace of the smile in his eyes, no sign of the laugh lines on his face. His mouth was set in a hard line, and the air around him crackled with power. It filled the air so much Harry could taste it.

"Never," Dumbledore said, his words ringing like a clap of thunder. "have I seen anything as deplorable as this." he stalked forward, and as he did the walls and ceiling repaired themselves behind him. "You have more thoroughly disappointed me, your school, your house, and your families more than anything in recent history."

Dumbledore drew himself up, eyes full of regretful fury. "For the assault and attempted murder of a fellow student, you are all hereby expelled from Hogwarts. As most of you have not taken your O.W.L.s, your wands will be snapped and your families notified. Get out of my school."

Just like that, they vanished. It was as if Hogwarts decided they were no longer fit to walk its halls. Harry wondered how far from the truth that thought was. When Dumbledore turned him all of the fury had left, and there was nothing left but regret.

"Come with me, Harry." he said. "There is something we need to discuss."

"I was hoping this wouldn't happen, Harry."

"Sir?"

Dumbledore produced a sheaf of parchment from the endless pile on his desk. "This is letter from the Board of Governors. I've been asked to retire."

Harry felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "What?"

"What's more, without my presence, Lucius was finally able to push through your expulsion. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry's hands were shaking. "What's happening?"

Dumbledore looked sadly at him. "This is vengeance. And punishment. I fear Lucius is the mastermind behind this. He has always been a vindictive man, and we have both given him reason to want us harmed."

"I-my parents?"

"I've told them. They're upset for you."

"They're not mad at me?"

"Why would they be? You've done nothing wrong, Harry. Not a thing. This is the result of a petty man's ambition. He was aiming for me. It is to my great regret and his good fortune that you were caught in the crossfire."

"What about Lavender? With you gone, people will disappear left and right!"

If it was possible, Dumbledore looked even older and more run down than before. "I fear Ms. Brown will have to be found without my help. As to the rest, I must ask something of you I have no right to. Protect them, Harry. Please. I've managed to keep you here until the semester's end. By that time I hoped to have overturned my dismissal."

"Me? Protect the whole school?"

"If there is anyone who can, it is you. I have nothing but faith in you, Mr.- Harry. And I am so very sorry. For everything."

Harry left Dumbledore's office, numb. He went to the owlrey on instinct, and climbed into the rafters. He curled his legs into his chest and buried his face in his knees. Then, with a great heaving sob, his tears broke loose. Neville and Hermione, followed by a worried Professor McGonagall, found him there an hour later. Without a word, they led him back to the common room.

Neither of his friends were saying anything, but they were watching him. He could feel their eyes on him when they were eating breakfast, or in the library, or between classes on the grounds or in the common room. Harry was both annoyed and comforted by this. He was working through what Dumbledore had told him the week before, and had just managed to wrap his head around it when the day came.

Dumbledore stood up at breakfast, made the announcement, and sat down.

Stunned silence filled the hall, then an explosion of questions, outrage and in some cases, glee. Harry watched them all, and watched one in particular. A small girl with dirty blonde hair and silver eyes. She stared at Dumbledore with a look of stark terror on her face.

Eventually the teachers managed to calm everyone down. McGonagall stood and spoke her piece, she'd take over as Headmistress and there was nothing to worry about. He didn't hear that, though. His thoughts were full of what exactly it was that made that girl look as scared as he was about Dumbledore's leaving.

When they were dismissed he kept his eyes on her. He didn't want to lose her in the crowd. Without looking away he said to Neville and Hermione "I'll meet you in the common room. There's someone I need to talk to."

And then, without waiting to hear their response, he waded into the sea of bodies. He pushed and excuse-me'd his way through, keeping his eyes on dirty blonde hair. A pair of thickset Hufflepuffs blocked his view for a minute, and when he managed to wriggle through he lost her. He stood on the stairs and looked around. Where had she gone? He caught a glimpse of her hair swishing around a corner down a hallway and hurried after her.

The corridor led to a balcony overlooking the southern half of the castle. Harry forgot about finding the girl when he saw the effects of his battle with the wraith. The foundations of the tower poked up gamely from the ground. It reminded him of a plant growing on the motorway. Scaffolding surrounded it and rose. If he squinted he could see tiny figures scurrying about near it.

"Hello, Harry Potter." an airy voice said behind him. "Are you enjoying the view?"

Harry spun around to see the reason he was here in the first place looking inquisitively at him. This close he could see she was quite pretty. Her hair framed an elfin face, all pointed chin, high cheekbones, and an upturned nose that gave her an air of mischief. She kept her wand behind her ear and, at first glance, appeared to somewhat insane. He didn't put much stock in that. First appearances meant little in the end. He hoped.

"Um...I...yes, actually." he said, just then noticing that she was looking down and to his left. "Why aren't you looking at me?"

"You're so bright. How do you see anything, shining like that?"

Harry looked down at himself, wondering if he'd done something with his power on accident. "I'm not."

"Oh, you are." she assured him, nodding seriously. "You're like a star, Harry Potter; all light, fire and life. It's beautiful. And terrifying. Why did you want to talk to me?"

He stared. "What? I-what?"

She continued as if talking about the weather. "People don't generally talk to me unless they want something. They find me odd, you see."

Harry couldn't possibly imagine why. Then he felt guilty because he not only found her odd, but that he'd tracked her down specifically to ask her something. "Well...would you mind if I asked you something?" he rubbed the back of his neck.

She smiled. "No. Go ahead."

"Why did you look so scared when Dumb-Professor Dumbledore said he was leaving? No one else looked like that. I wanted to know because...because that's how I feel, and I wanted to know what made us different."

Her smile was long gone. She gave him a sad, sympathetic look. "Because we see clearly when they look through fog. You and I see Dumbledore for who he is. They don't. We know that without him things will become very bad before they get better. All they see is Dumbledore retiring. Some of them are probably pleased."she shuddered. "I can't imagine why."

"Don't worry," Harry found himself saying. "I'll keep you safe."

She looked at him through grave, silver eyes. "It's not me I'm worried about. It's you."

Harry returned to the common room, full of his conversation with Luna. What she'd said resonated. She'd pointed out what he'd been noticing in people over the last few days. They didn't look as scared as he was. Dumbledore was leaving. The man who was supposed to protect them all was going away. No one cared. No, that was wrong. People cared. Just for the wrong reason.

His thoughts were derailed upon noticing the look in the common room. His stomach twisted up again. He knew it. Harry knew this would happen.

He just wished he was wrong.

Hermione tackled him in another hug. "Where were you? You had us worried!"

"I was talking to someone." he said. "What's going on?"

She hadn't let him go yet, and showed no signs of doing so. Neville came up to them and lowered his voice.

"More people went missing."

"Who?" he asked over Hermione's shoulder.

"Hannah Abbot, Pansy Parkinson, and Marietta Edgecombe."

That made his mind up for him. For days he'd been thinking about whether to tell anyone what Dumbledore told him about Malfoy and what he was doing. He'd held himself back. It had been his burden to bear, what's more he didn't want to worry anyone. Now, though, he knew he needed help. He couldn't do this alone. He didn't want to do it at all.

Harry pulled them over to their usual place. Once he was sure no one was listening in he bent forward and whispered. "I need to tell you something. Before he left, Dumbledore told me to do something. He said I was the only one who could..."

When he was done, Hermione and Neville sat in silence. He sat back, throat dry, and waited for them to gather their thoughts. Then Neville swore.

"Language!" Hermione scolded, then blushed. "Reflex. What is it?"

"What was he thinking?" Neville demanded. "You're just a kid, Harry, you can't do something like protect the entire bloody school on your own! Meaning no disrespect, I know how powerful you are, but that's not the point." he stood up and started to pace, full of a fire that Harry hadn't seen from him before. " The point is that he should have gone to McGonagall. She's his Deputy, for God's sake! And a teacher to boot! If he was really worried, he should have done more than sit on his duff while the Aurors investigated the school!"

"I don't think he could do anything else." Harry said quietly. Neville flopped back into his seat. Hermione rubbed his arm comfortingly.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I dunno, really. Just...when I was there, he looked tired. Really, really tired. I think something else has been going on that's been drawing his attention. Like, when Dudley wanted to get away with something, he'd have me pull something bigger to draw mum and dad's focus away from that, or the other way 'round."

Hermione frowned. "You think the same thing is going on?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I mean, it's not skiving off chores, but it's the same idea."

Her frown deepened. "What's worse, it would probably work. Granted, you'd need an obscene amount of money, vast political connections, and a willingness to bribe or threaten a large number of people. But it could work."

"Last I checked," Neville said heavily. "the Malfoys had all of those things."

There was another long silence while Harry stared into the fire. He was processing the confirmation-finally-of what he had long known in his heart. That Lucius Malfoy wanted him dead or at the very least out of Hogwarts. Anger at a man he didn't at all know filled him. It wasn't the cold hate he carried for Voldemort. It was hot and impulsive and demanded action.

Action that he was more than willing to take. "Right." he said. "I'm going to McGonagall. Hopefully she'll be able to sort this out." he headed for the portrait hole before stopping. "Where's her office, anyways?"

Neville shrugged. "No idea."

So did Hermione. "Me neither."

"Okay. I'll talk to her in the morning." he decided. Morning took a long time to come.

"And you're sure about this, Mr. Potter?"

"I am. I don't know why he told me to do it, but I thought you should know."

Professor McGonagall frowned for a moment before nodding and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Twenty points to Gryffindor. Run along now. I'll take care of it."

"Twenty points? What for?"

She gave him a rare smile. "For doing the right thing, of course."

It was running towards the end of November, and the end of the first semester, when Hermione found an answer to one of their mysteries. Harry and Neville were in the common room, trying to do their homework. Harry couldn't focus. He kept thinking about the students that had disappeared. Had the Heir, whoever they were, taken them? If he had, why? Were they alive? Above all, where were they? It was to this last question that Hermione found the answer.

Typically of her, she'd found it in the library.

"I found it!" she hissed, setting a variety of newspaper clippings and an old book down on top of his halfhearted Potions essay on moonstones. Harry picked up one of the yellowed papers. The headline read, Hogwarts Students found Dead. Mysterious Heir to blame? Another one read, What is the Chamber? Headmaster denies knowledge.

Harry gave her a proud smile. "You found it."

She grinned and preened a little. "I did."

"Well, don't keep us waiting." Neville said impatiently. "Start talking!"

"Well, it starts with the Founder of Hogwarts..."

This was the story of the Chamber. Hogwarts had been built by the four most powerful witches and wizards in the country as place of learning and refuge from persecution. For many, many years all was well. Students came, learned, and went out into the world and the four Founders saw what they had done and were convinced of the wonder they had created.

As time passed a secret festered in the heart of one Founder. Salazar Slytherin watched the world change and refused to change with it. He saw the dilution of the old bloodlines as a travesty, a crime against nature. When the other Founders refused to listen, he hatched a plan. He would secrete a portion of himself in a hidden Chamber somewhere in the school. In that Chamber he placed a method for cleansing the school of any and all of mixed bloodline. When the other Founders discovered what Slytherin had done, they exiled him from Hogwarts.

He took the secret of the Chamber's location with him. Legend said that only his chosen Heir would be able to open it and access the weapon with within. The years passed and nothing happened. The mysteries of the Heir and Chamber remained unsolved for so long they drifted into legend and myth. What was once fact became superstition.

Until fifty years ago. A student, a fifth year Ravenclaw girl whose name was never given, was found dead in a second floor girl's bathroom. She was the first to die, but the only one to be found. The at the time Headmaster, Armando Dippet, had been unable to find a culprit. The school was burned in the media, and a closure seemed all but inevitable. Then in the eleventh hour a Slytherin Prefect called Tom Riddle found the Heir and destroyed the weapon within.

The missing students were never found.

"Hermione," Harry said slowly. "The girl whose body they found, the only one they did..."

"What about her?"

"You don't think she stuck around, do you?"

Hermione gasped. "We need to go. Right now. We need to find a teacher."

"What?" Neville looked bewildered. "Why?"

"Because someone knows where the Chamber is."

"Who?"

"Myrtle."

END CHAPTER FOUR

Note: I hope you liked my portrayal of Luna. Any detractors should read the description. It clearly says, 'AU'. I meant it. Anyways, the next chapter sees the end of Harry's second year and the resolution of the Chamber and the Heir.

Read, Enjoy. Review if you want to. You know I like them.