Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Any original plots, ideas, and characters are mine.

AN:

Several questions have again popped up – questions I've answered many times before, in Author's Notes or my Yahoo Group. So finally, I've created a brief FAQ section in my Author's Profile in this site, please check it out ^.^

And congrats to RedBlueFish, who was the first to figure out Harry and Alphard's Animagi forms two chapters back! :D :D

As always, I hope you enjoy this chappie and let me know what you think ;)

Part I: Chapter 62

"Leave us!" thundered Tom a second after they had entered their dormitory, as he brusquely let go of Harry, flinging him forward, making Harry wince as he smashed against a poster of his bed, Nagini hissing wildly in his arms.

Neron Lestrange and Orion Black had apparently been entertaining themselves, playing Exploding Snaps on one of the empty beds. At Tom's commanding roar, both boys jumped to their feet.

Orion Black took one glance at the furious expression on Tom's face and practically fled from the room. Neron Lestrange, on the other hand, shot them a quizzical, intrigued look.

"Leave – at once," bit out Tom, his dark blue eyes narrowing to slits.

The hulking boy grunted, and trailed after his friend, nonetheless casting them a curious look over his broad shoulder before he closed the door behind him.

Once Lestrange was gone, Tom immediately rounded on Harry, towering over him, looking livid, as Harry squirmed nervously on his bed.

"I don't know why you're so angry," began Harry in a valiant attempt of befuddled innocence, as he restrained and petted Nagini, trying to calm her down –she was still writhing and hissing in his arms, as though dying to have a go at Tom. "I've done nothing-"

"You have done plenty, according to Malfoy," hissed out Tom, his eyes so narrowed that they were mere burning slits. "He has told me-"

"Whatever the git blabbered about," interjected Harry, huffing as he squared his shoulders, "it's all a bunch of lies-"

"Have you or have you not," spat Tom in a seething tone, "been cavorting with the halfbreed?"

"Don't call Hagrid that!" snapped Harry hotly, glaring at him, perfectly aware that he had once thought of the boy in those terms, especially after one day when Alphard had told him how very savage and dangerous Giants were. But after getting to know him, seeing that Hagrid was kind and harmless, he always became indignant when he overheard other people calling him by that rather demeaning term.

"I see," said Tom very quietly, pinning him with his angered gaze. "Hagrid, is it? So you have been acquainting yourself with that oaf - who barely knows how to read and write and can scarcely do any magic at all, from what I have heard." His eyes narrowed to slits. "That is what you have been doing when you disappear."

"Maybe," retorted Harry truculently, shooting him a mutinous look. "So what?"

"So," sneered Tom acidly, glowering down at him. "You will end it at once. It reflects very poorly on me-"

"I won't!" snapped Harry hotly. "I'll be friends with whomever I want-"

"I tolerate your friendship with your sidekick," sneered Tom venomously, "because he is a pureblood and a Black. I even tolerated your former friendship with the Prewetts because they are purebloods and members of a well-respected family-"

"I'm still friends with them!" gritted out Harry, nettled.

"However," carried on Tom sternly, wholly ignoring the interruption, as his expression hardened, "I will not allow you to tarnish my reputation by liaising with a halfbreed brute. You will quit that friendship, immediately-"

"I've already helped you out with your stupid reputation by playing Quidditch," retorted Harry crossly, "as you wanted-"

"Fat good that did," jeered Tom caustically, "seeing how badly you and your pet played against Ravenclaw. Do not think I did not notice, you seemed… drugged." He pierced him with narrowed eyes. "Why would that be, little brother?"

"Drugged? I don't know what you're yapping about." Harry shot him an utterly confounded look, before he scoffed loudly. "What – do you think we've been sneaking into Hogsmeade to down some shots of firewhiskey?"

"Or something else," hissed out Tom, menacingly looming over him, his expression darkening. "Malfoy has seen the two of you often disappearing into the Room of Requirements." He waved a hand dismissively. "Of course that Malfoy doesn't realize that the door he has seen appearing before you is that of one of Hogwarts' secret attributes, but I recognized it for what it was when he described the events to me."

Harry snorted, rolling his eyes. "Alphie and I just go to the Room for a bit of playtime, nothing more-"

"Not to mention," continued Tom, his tone becoming acrid, as he kept boring his eyes into Harry's skull, "that you have both been acting very strangely lately." He arched an eyebrow at him, sneering. "Most peculiar, the way your food predilections seem to have changed. Both of you disliking dishes that before were your favorites." His eyes narrowed again. "Both of you displaying strange behaviors during class, and playing Quidditch very badly, on the same day-"

"We're just tired," interrupted Harry waspishly, scowling. "Dorea has been making us practice like maniacs. We were bound to play badly one day, at the rate we're going!"

Tom skewered him with highly suspicious eyes, before he sneered scathingly, "Very well, keep your secrets, but then do not expect me to-"

"Secrets – right," interjected Harry curtly, as he glared at him, pointedly. "Funny thing you should mention 'secrets'." He held Nagini closer to his chest, and scowled at him accusingly. "What are you and Malfoy up to!"

"I beg your pardon?" intoned Tom coolly, arching an eyebrow at him.

Harry seethed, jumping to his feet, only taking the trouble of settling Nagini on his bed before he rounded on his brother, furious. "You know what I'm speaking about! Why is Malfoy suddenly obeying you? It's not like him at all, is it?"

And indeed, it wasn't. Even after they had discovered the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk, and after Malfoy had vouched before their housemates that it was all true, Abraxas had still behaved as though he still felt superior to them, for being a pureblood and a Malfoy.

Even if he and Tom were of Slytherin blood and Parselmouths to boot, it had been clear that Abraxas Malfoy thought that all those traits were trumped by the fact that they could be nothing more than halfbloods.

"And suddenly," carried on Harry, narrowing his green eyes at his brother, "he's doing anything you ask of him? And calling you 'Marvolo', too?"

Tom smirked at him. "Malfoy has simply realized the errors of his way and has come to understand that he stands much to gain by associating with me-"

"Or," bit out Harry, crossing his arms over his chest, angered, "he's asked you to repay him for having acted as witness of our discovery of the Chamber of Secrets." He shot him a dark glare. "I'm not an idiot, you know? I remember the weird stuff he said over the holidays, in Von Krauss Castle. He said he wanted some wizard dead – that he wanted that in return. And you seemed to know exactly what he was referring to." He pointed an accusing finger at him, as he barked indignantly, "You two are plotting murder, you are! Who's the poor chap?"

"Don't be ridiculous," sneered Tom acerbically. "Why would either of us risk a sentence in Azkaban just to dispose of someone?" He glared at him. "And don't change the subject. We were discussing your connection with the halfbreed oaf-"

"I'm not ditching Hagrid," said Harry hotly, puffing with anger. "He's nice and kind." He cast him a dirty look. "Much better friend to me than you have ever been-"

"I am not your friend," spat Tom disgustedly, before superiorly smirking at him, "but your older brother. And as such, you are bound to obey me-"

"Older for just a couple of minutes!" roared Harry, as always extremely miffed when his brother tried to pull that one over him. "And anyway, that doesn't give you the right to dictate who I have as a friend!"

"You will do as I say," hissed out Tom, his expression thunderous, "or I will just go tell the Headmaster about the Acromantula."

Harry blanched at that, snapping his mouth shut, before he glowered at him. "You wouldn't."

"Oh yes I would," sneered Tom acidly, his eyes flashing with fury. "Especially given that the halfbreed is keeping a spider very close by the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. And I expect that even a dunderhead like you realizes that spiders-"

"Fear Basilisks, yes," gritted out Harry, fulminating him with an angered scowl, "but the Acromantula doesn't know about Zar. He just senses something. And hasn't told Hagrid anything that could endanger us-"

"Not to mention," continued Tom crisply, as he jabbed the silver badge on the lapels of his robes, "that I am a Prefect. It is my duty to ensure the safety of all students. And that great oaf has been raising a highly dangerous creature in the castle, according to what Malfoy overheard-"

"You don't care a rat's arse about the 'safety of students'!" cried Harry indignantly, as he became frantic. "If you tell about the Acromantula, Hagrid would be expelled, at the very least! And it's not his fault, he's just… er, confused. But I'll make him see sense-"

"And do you think you'll succeed?" interjected Tom scornfully.

"Yes!" said Harry adamantly, jerkily nodding his head. "I just need some weeks and I'm sure I'll convince him that he needs to take Aragog to the forest-"

"I could grant you some time," began Tom in a silk, soft voice that instantly made Harry feel wary, as it then acquired a tone of calculation, "but what will you give me in return for my silence?"

Harry stared at him, before he growled, "Are you blackmailing me?"

"Only if you allow yourself to be so. Only if you are willing to pay any price to protect a friend," sneered Tom acidly, before he shot him a disgusted, scornful look. "And since I know you do, as pathetically sentimental as you have always been, then why should I not take advantage of your stupidity?"

For a moment, Harry considered the situation. Was he truly willing to be in his brother's debt just to save Hagrid's hide? He wasn't quite sure. The half-Giant boy should really know better than to keep an Acromantula in the castle, treating it as though it was a harmless little baby pet in need of protection.

He didn't see why he should cover the idiot's back. Hagrid had become a friend, yes, but Harry didn't feel as protective of him as he did of Alphard, or the Prewetts, or Tom even.

But then, just picturing the look of devastation on Hagrid's face if Aragog was found, or if the boy himself was expelled from Hogwarts – a place which Hagrid obviously treasured highly, always looking to be in awe when he glanced around his surroundings in the school, as though in disbelief that he had ever been accepted in such a wondrous place- made Harry's furious irritation with the half-Giant dwindle, to be replaced by a frisson of sympathy and pity.

Finally, Harry clenched his jaw and spat churlishly, "Fine - what do you want?"

"I will have to muse it over," intoned Tom, his dark blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "For the time being, you can end your relation with the halfbreed-"

Harry let out a bark of nasty laughter at that. "If you want me to convince Hagrid to get rid of his stupid pet, I need to keep being his friend. He won't listen to me otherwise."

Tom pinned him with a narrowed-eyed, considering look, before he merely sneered, "Very well. Yet, at least-" he gestured angrily at Nagini "-you'll return her to her proper place."

Nagini, who seemed to have contented herself to wait while Harry yelled at Tom up until that point, now let out a bristling hiss.

She couldn't have understood what they had been talking about –she hadn't been around other humans for long enough to allow her to understand plain English- however, she couldn't mistake the way in which Tom was now eyeing her.

"What did he say?" demanded Nagini testily, as she imperiously flung her head around to stare intently at Harry.

"He wants you to return to the forest," hissed Harry with a deep sigh.

"I won't!" spat Nagini immediately, her yellow eyes spitting fire at the pair of them. "I refuse to go back to that swarm of unworthy-"

"She can't," said Harry, cutting short their snake's affronted rant, as he attempted to make his brother understand the prickly situation, gesturing tiredly at her. "A bunch of horny male snakes are after her. I had to save her from them, in fact. She'll have to stay with us-"

"Horny. male. snakes," enunciated Tom flatly, stiffening as he fulminated Harry with an enraged stare. "Explain."

And Harry did so, seeing how Tom's expression turned increasingly more outraged after every word he spoke.

"What do you mean – she has been 'mating'?" snarled Tom by the end of it, looking livid.

For a moment, Harry felt a powerful wave of relief. It was clear that Tom was absolutely furious about the situation in which Nagini had stuck herself in. Admittedly, his brother did display, from time to time, a streak of protectiveness towards those he considered to be his.

"You have no right to mate," hissed Tom irately, as he glared murderously at Nagini, "unless I choose for you and give you my express permission!"

Stunned for a moment, having expected his brother to gently tell her that she was too young or something of the sort, Harry gaped, before he bellowed angrily, "That's not the point, you idiot! This is not about her not obeying your every little command – this is about her safety, you twat!"

"Safety?" hissed Tom contemptuously, as he eyed their snake with a disgusted, malevolent look. "It sounds to me as though she deserves everything that has happened to her. Want to be a loose floozy, do you? Then, you will have to learn how to deal with the consequences of your promiscuity on your own."

Nagini let out a screeching hiss that sounded like a battle cry, and catapulted herself from Harry's bed, looking like a spitting demon come from Hell, so furious and outraged she was.

Alarmed, seeing how Tom lost no time in whipping out his wand, Harry instantly snatched Nagini from mid air and enfolded her in his arms, shooting his brother a reproachful, jaundiced look, as he petted her, soothingly. "There, there... He didn't mean it, Nagini. You're not a tart. You're just – um… overeager, I suppose."

Tom nastily scoffed at that, but Harry skewered him with a dark look, as he announced, "She'll live in the castle. I'm taking her to the Chamber of Secrets. She can keep Zar company."

Tom paused to pin him with his gaze for a moment, before he sneered snidely, "Very well." He shot Nagini a look of utter repugnance. "Hopefully, the Basilisk will gobble her down and we'll be spared from having to suffer more of her appalling, adolescent behavior."

Thankfully, Nagini didn't understand his words, but it nonetheless made Harry mutter under his breath, vastly vexed.

At least it was a good thing, he reckoned, that his brother had never expressed a desire to form a family of his own. Evidently, Tom would make a terrible father.

"Our discussion is not over," hissed out Tom virulently as they made their way to the Chamber of Secrets through the passageway behind the mirror.

Regretfully, the much easily accessible entrance through the sinks of the girls' lavatory had not been an option, since they had heard Myrtle's muffled wailings coming from within, raving to herself, something about Olive Hornby having once more made fun of her ugly looks.

Which, of course, had made Tom venomously rant about 'the mudblood' for a whole quarter of an hour, as Harry did his best to keep Nagini calm in his arms as he continually petted her, putting as much distance between herself and Tom as possible.

It didn't seem as though Nagini would be forgiving Tom any time soon for having called her a 'floozy' – Harry suspected that she didn't even fully understand the insult, though had picked up the gist of it easily enough.

Though why Nagini would feel affronted at being called that, was anyone's guess. It wasn't as though snakes followed a set of moral rules, was it? Harry thought it was more due to the fact that Tom had acted completely indifferent to her plight, than anything else, since she had surely wanted to be coddled and pampered by him – to be once more Tom's cherished and treasured one.

Harry irritably shook his head, at how stupidly the both of them were acting, before he retorted curtly to his brother's crisp prodding, "The day you tell me what you're up to with Malfoy, I'll tell you what I've been doing with Alphard."

Tom hadn't stopped pestering him about the matter, certain that he and Alphard were doing something behind his back, certain that -since they had been seen by Malfoy entering the Room of Requirements so frequently- they had to be up to no good, up to something 'moronic'.

When they finally reached the Chamber of Secrets, Harry breathed a little easier, though feeling a frisson of wary awkwardness nevertheless.

He hadn't been down there since the day he had discovered that Zar was Salazar Slytherin, trapped in his Animagus form by Gryffindor's spell.

He had shied from visiting the Basilisk, actually. No matter what he had told his brother, and the arguments he had used to convince Tom that they couldn't bring their ancestor back, the fact was that he still felt twangs of uncertainty, and worse, guilt.

Even now, as Tom hissed grandiosely, "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts' Four!", Harry shifted uneasily from foot to foot as the Basilisk came slithering out from the carved mouth.

Zar looked crumpled and slightly ill, his scales paler than the last time Harry had seen him, as though the creature hadn't had a good meal or restful sleep in ages.

Although given what Zar had frequently expressed his favorite meal to be, there wasn't much they could do about it, since letting him eat muggleborns was not an option.

Nevertheless, Harry once more felt that wave of uncomfortable disquiet as he gazed at the creature after so long. If he had been in Salazar Slytherin's shoes, he would have liked if someone aided him, after all. He would have been desperate to be released from the cruel magic that bound him, that robbed him from his mind and humanity.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, swiftly looking away from the Basilisk, and stared down at Nagini, who had tensed in his arms.

"It's alright," he hissed softly, caressing her small, flat head. "He won't harm you."

Though he realized, a moment later, that she wasn't scared. On the contrary, she seemed furious. Harry understood the reason as he followed the direction in which she was gazing at: seeing Tom hissing fondly at the Basilisk, petting it with great worshipful reverence and gentleness.

In a second, Nagini flung herself out from Harry's arms and scurried like a flash towards the other pair.

Rearing herself into the air as much as she could, perching on the tip of her tail, she spat in a rattling, infuriated hiss, "He is my human! Tom was mine, first!"

At that, Tom shot her a malicious sneer from over his shoulder, not pausing in his pampering of the Basilisk, while Zar looked momentarily confused, squinting down at the floor from his impressive height, as though trying to catch sight of the thing that had spoken.

Because, indeed, Nagini was barely visible now. She looked like nothing but a tiny, thin thread, attempting to be noticed, swaying menacingly, before the intimidating immensity of the Basilisk's body, which vastly overshadowed her.

Harry groaned as he rushed up to them, realizing that she had not adopted all of her personality traits from Tom, as he had always thought. Oh, her selfish possessiveness surely was, but the sort of reckless, stupid bravery she was now displaying, Harry had to admit, was all his –and her evident jealousy too, though he rather not think about that.

"Come here, you silly snake," Harry mumbled in a hiss as he quickly picked her up from the floor, wary that Zar would take offense and attack.

Nagini, not so stupid after all, allowed his protection of her, but remained glaring up at the massive Basilisk. Thankfully, though, Zar still seemed unsure of how to react to the little creature.

He was slowly blinking his outer eyelids at her, as if trying to figure out just what she was.

"Um – Zar," hissed Harry awkwardly, the whole thing feeling surreal as he made the introductions, "this is Nagini, our…er, friend. You are not to harm her but treat her nicely." He patted her on the head, glancing down as he lowered his voice, "Nagini, this is Zar. Don't cross him or he'll have you for lunch, you fool."

Nagini bristled at that, looking even more furious as she glowered at the imposing Basilisk before them. Zar, for his part, had already glanced away and returned his attention to Tom, not looking remotely interested in her.

With thumb and forefinger, Harry was quick to snap Nagini's jaws shut when the little snake made an attempt to speak again, hastily taking her away from Tom and Zar, who were once again absorbed with each other in conversation.

"Right, I'm leaving you here," said Harry as he settled her on the stone floors of the Chamber of Secrets, at the other end from where Tom and Zar were quietly hissing to each other.

"I don't like it," hissed Nagini at once, glancing around with a fastidious, haughty air about her. "It's cold and damp. And ugly!"

"This is all there is," snapped Harry irritably. "You'll have to make it work."

"What are they hissing about?" spat Nagini crossly, shooting an irked glance at the distant pair.

"Dunno," said Harry with a disinterested shrug of the shoulders, before he frowned.

In fact, he had no idea what Tom had been doing all the times he had been visiting Zar since the day that Harry himself had stopped coming. Feeding and keeping him company, surely, but Harry wondered that his brother hadn't yet got tired of it. Or that it wasn't painful, as it was for Harry, to look at the Basilisk and know that they could do nothing for him.

"Nagini," then whispered Harry as an idea struck him and he crouched on the floor, piercing her with his eyes, "I want you to do something for me."

"Whatever you wish, Master," hissed Nagini importantly, as though wanting to give him an example of how much better behaved she was in comparison to the Basilisk, to which she was still shooting heated glances now and then. "Ask and I shall obey."

Harry's lips twitched wryly, before he murmured in a very grave hiss, "I want you to come to my dormitory and find me if you ever think that the Basilisk is acting strangely."

That caught her attention, as Nagini whipped her head around to stare at him with a kind of gleeful interest. "Strangely? Like what?" She undulated her tail with vicious delight. "The creature is a bad companion, I knew it! Not like me who always-"

"Listen," snapped Harry, a mite exasperated. "I want you to come to me if you ever hear him say that he wants to kill." He shot a frown over his shoulder, as he added in a thread of a whisper, "If he says he wants to kill students, or 'mudbloods'." He turned to bore his gaze into Nagini's startled one. "Alright?"

"Yes, Master," hissed Nagini quietly, sounding confused. "I will." She then flicked her tail, looking annoyed. "But how can I reach you, and without being seen, as you've said before-"

"I'll show you the passageways you can use to reach the main corridors of the school," interjected Harry swiftly, "and how to get to the dungeons. If you can't use the passageways, you can use the pipe system." He shot her a speculative look. "And if you learn how to control your magical ability, then no one will see you."

"What magical ability!" hissed Nagini, sounding aggravated and deeply bitter.

"You did magic in the clearing of the forest," said Harry sternly, "I told you." He scratched his forehead, musingly. "Just as you did years ago, in the orphanage. I think it's a matter of necessity. A matter of wanting to, on your part." He shot her a piercing look, as he said dryly, "When you camouflaged with my pillow in the orphanage, you had surreptitiously slithered up to it, knowing perfectly well that Tom didn't allow you to sleep in our beds. You must have been trying to make yourself small or something, so that I wouldn't notice that you were trying to steal my pillow. And in the clearing, you were hiding from the other snakes, not wanting to be found – and that's when you became sort of invisible, camouflaging with the ground. I only saw you because I could see your magic."

Nagini slowly blinked at him, looking bemused.

"Do you understand?" pressed Harry impatiently, before he waved a hand, not waiting for her reply. "If I have time, I'll go to the library and see if I can find what kind of magical snake you are. If not, you just have to practice. I'm sure you can get the hang of it."

And with that, he rose to his feet, shot the distant Tom and Zar a frown, and then swiftly departed before his brother had a chance to remember the many things they still hadn't hashed out.

He wasn't going to give Tom more opportunities to pester him with his nosey, demanding curiosity into his affairs, and Nagini would just have to learn how to fend for herself – he had enough on his plate as it was.

"Harry, wake up, you dunce!" came a distant, distressed yell.

Sleepily, Harry growled under his breath and rolled to a side in his bed.

"Harry!" this time, the familiar voice was accompanied by the muffled patter of footfalls on their dormitory's floor carpet.

Nevertheless, Harry wholly ignored it, keeping his eyes firmly shut. He didn't think he could move a muscle. He was completely exhausted.

The other day, he had borrowed the Invisibility Cloak from Charlus Potter and spent hours giving Nagini a tour around the castle.

The last time she had lived at Hogwarts had been for such a short duration of time that she hadn't gotten to know it well, especially because neither Harry nor Tom had allowed her to go exploring by herself unless they were with her.

Added to the fact that Ulysses had promptly jumped on Harry's shoulder, clearly with no intention of being left behind, Harry had found himself with the unpleasant experience of having to act as arbiter between snake and Scorcrup, neither of which liked the other much.

The only positive fact was that, gratefully, Scorcrups couldn't speak or understand Parseltongue. So when Nagini had let out a constant, vitriolic onslaught of hissed insults, Ulysses hadn't been fully aware of just how very rudely he had been criticized.

Nevertheless, Scorcrups were part Kneazle, and Ulysses obviously caught the gist of Nagini's incensed, jealous hisses, and retaliated by swiftly transforming his fluffy tail into that of a scorpion. That had promptly made Nagini shut her maw, but she had remained sulky and tetchy for the rest of the day.

At least Harry had managed to show her all the secret passageways, discovering to his surprise that she, unlike Zar, could open them with her hisses.

The only explanation for it was that Slytherin's descendants had purposely enchanted the passageways in and out of the Chamber of Secrets so that only the Basilisk's hisses wouldn't work on them – clearly fearful of the possibility of having their ancestor run amok, escaping from their control.

Having to spend a whole day with a disgruntled, irritated Nagini had been no fun. Harry thought that the living arrangements between her and Zar weren't working too well, though he certainly didn't ask. He had never gone back to the Chamber of Secrets –he knew Tom was feeding both of them, nowadays- and preferred it that way.

At least, if Nagini was to be believed, she had been making progress in controlling her magical ability, though Harry had yet to see solid evidence of it.

Nevertheless, he had been left completely knackered. Between that, and the whole other slew of things that had been happening, Harry had been very grumpy lately.

Abraxas Malfoy was still stalking him around –though this time keeping his distance- whilst Harry chose to absolutely ignore him, Hagrid was still mulishly refusing to heed Harry's advice regarding Aragog, Myrtle was spending more time than ever bawling in her lavatory since everyone was mocking and spurning her more than ever before –rather understandably, since the girl had become outright unbearable- which meant that a highly irked Tom was being forced to daily use the passageway behind the mirror to access the Chamber of Secrets, his temper flaring when viciously nagging Harry about it, and everyone else in the school seemed to have gone mad and frantic.

Only a month and a half was left before the school year ended, and nerves were flying high. The Fifth Years had their O.W.L.s, the Seventh Years their N.E.W.T.s, the rest of them their end-of-year examinations which were no easy chore, and Tom all the while pestered and threatened him to get good scores on his tests, or else.

They had all begun revising like madmen, Dorea Black had turned into a demented banshee with her pre-match hysterics, since they would be playing against Gryffindor –their last chance for the Quidditch Cup- in just three weeks, the Daily Prophet kept printing articles claiming that they were all doomed since Grindelwald seemed more unstoppable than ever, they had received a letter from Konrad Von Krauss telling them he would be waiting for them in Platform Four and Three-Quarters under his guise of 'Lord Alistair Ascfroft' and that they would be spending another summer trapped in his castle, and apparently, this time the Dark Lord would deign to pay them a visit, which had all left Harry extremely wary and jittery.

"Harry! Dorea has called for a meeting of the Team in the common room – get up!"

Stubbornly keeping his eyes shut, Harry turned a deaf ear to his best friend's shout. He could hardly move, his whole body ached –from tiredness, no doubt- and he felt so heavy and expended that he just wanted to wile away the whole day dozing off.

"For Morgana's sake!" snarled Alphard's voice sounding annoyed beyond endurance, accompanied by the sound of bed curtains being ripped apart. "Will you get up, you lazy-"

Suddenly, such a loud, high-pitched shriek sounded bare inches away from Harry, that he irritably cracked one eye open, just as Neron Lestrange's voice roared furiously, "Will you shut your pipe, Black! It's seven in the freaking morning!"

Harry blinked though, when he saw Alphard standing right by his bed, the hangings framing him, with such a discombobulated expression on his face that Harry stared.

Alphard was staring back at him, grey eyes huge, with mouth hanging open, looking horror-struck, his face stark white, to such point that Harry could even see, to his vague, sleepy surprise, that his best friend had a couple of pale freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose – he had never noticed those before.

Alphard made a sort of strangled, choked noise from the back of his throat, before he instantly spun around, disappearing as he yanked the bed curtains shut.

Thinking nothing of it, too sleepy to care, Harry dozed off.

It couldn't have been more than half an hour later when he heard the unmistakable noises of his dormmates waking up to get ready for breakfast. He even had the vague suspicion that Alphard had been checking on him all the while, having heard his bed hangings being opened a slit now and then – the last time, accompanied by a panicked 'eep!'.

Regretfully, the loud voices were finally managing to ebb away his sleepiness, and Harry began to groggily open his eyes.

"Has anyone seen my tie?" Orion Black's voice was demanding irritably, just as a pajama-clad Alphard slipped behind the bed curtains once more, staring at Harry with a strange mesh of expressions, looking half terrified, half frenzied, and above all, determined, as he held a large blanket in his hands.

'Wha-' Harry tried to say, though didn't get the chance, he was instantly attacked.

The blanket was thrown over him as the boy pounced, Harry instinctively fighting him off, alarmed.

"Will you stop struggling!" whispered Alphard's voice sharply, panting very haggardly as he wrestled with Harry's flailing limbs. "I'm trying to help you, you idiot!"

Harry attempted to speak again, this time to shout for help, certain his friend had lost his marbles – but he froze a moment later, as no sound came from his mouth but a plume of smoke.

He heard Alphard coughing, before the boy took advantage of the opportunity of having Harry frozen in stupefaction, and the blanket was wholly wrapped around him, just as Harry felt himself being hoisted up against Alphard's body, the boy panting with the effort.

Harry felt as he was being carried by his best friend, barely jostled by the slow, unsteady steps, tucked amidst the folds of the rather smelly blanket, as he was paralyzed with momentary astonishment.

"What are you carrying there?" Orion's voice inquired abruptly, just as Alphard came to a sudden stop.

"Um… my dirty laundry. I'm going to wash it – er, by hand."

"Why would you?" snorted Orion scathingly. "Leave it to the house-elves, you dunce."

"No! I…er – need to understand how difficult muggles have it, you know, doing chores without magic and all that tosh. It's a project for Muggle Studies!"

"You're not taking Muggle Studies," said Orion's voice suspiciously. "Uncle Pollux didn't allow you-"

Harry was jostled when Alphard took a hasty step back, apparently because Orion had been about to part open the blanket hiding him. He had seen, through the fabric, a dark shadow coming closer, bare inches from his head.

"Fine!" bellowed Alphard, sounding half hysteric. "I'm going to the bathroom, to have a wank, alright?"

"What – with your dirty socks?" scoffed Orion snidely. "Go to your bed to have a toss, cousin, like the rest of us. You're not monopolizing the bathroom – I have yet to do my hair-"

"The world won't collapse if you don't groom your hair for one day!" roared Alphard at the top of his lungs, sounding demented. "I'm going to wank – in the bathroom! And I don't want any of you butting in – I'LL BE WANKING THE WHOLE DAY IF THAT'S WHAT IT TAKES! So stay clear!"

"Alright," mumbled Orion's voice, clearly taken aback and wary. "If you're that desperate to have some action, go ahead, though I would recommend the real thing-"

"Leave him," came Neron Lestrange's jeering, guffawing voice. "Little Black is feeling quite needy, obviously – what, with Riddle not giving him the release he so yearns for-"

"What is all the ruckus about?" snarled a tetchy, sharp voice, which Harry distantly recognized as Tom's, surprising him, since it sounded sleepy and exhausted, as if recently awoken after a very long night. Usually, his brother was always the first to get up in the mornings. "And what did you just say, Lestrange?"

"Shut your traps – all of you!" barked Alphard in a strangled voice, and apparently, he decided that fleeing was the only option left for him, since Harry was abruptly jostled to all sides as the boy broke into a sudden, mad dash.

The moment a door was slammed shut, the blanket was ripped from him and Harry spun, suddenly finding himself in mid air, before he deftly landed on cold stone floors, blinking, when he saw two paws before him.

And very strange paws they were. He shifted, and saw how one of his razor-sharp talons clicked on the floor.

"Ha-rry?" said a wheezy, hesitant voice, just as Alphard appeared in his line of sight, crouching on the floor, some safe distance away from him, looking frenzied and pale faced, still panting from exertion. "That's - you, right?"

Harry peered at him, befuddled, as he opened his maw and spoke – only for a very long, blazing, blast of fire to come out.

Alphard yelled, scrambling back, and immediately patted his eyebrows which had caught on fire. "Gulping gargoyles! Don't try to speak, you prat, or you'll roast me alive!"

"You- you're a – a –" then stuttered Alphard once he had recovered, his singed eyebrows vanishing into his hairline as he stared at him with a flabbergasted, awe-struck, yet faintly fearful expression on his face as well, as he weakly gestured towards the other side of the room, swallowing thickly. "Well, take a look, and you'll see."

Harry blinked, before he realized his friend was gesturing towards the wide mirror spanning across the entire wall at the other end of the bathroom.

He began making his way towards it, feeling very strange indeed, walking on four legs, as he attempted a sort of gangly trot. Furthermore, his shoulders were twitching and aching, as he felt a very weird, heavy weight on them.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably, and suddenly, a feathery mass smacked him on the face, making him yelp and land on his hindquarters.

Behind him, Alphard gave a half-snigger, half-choking sound, which Harry didn't appreciate, getting up to his four legs once more as he shot the boy a dirty look and an irritated snarl.

Smoke puffed out from what had to be his nostrils, and Alphard jumped, 'eeping', as he said hastily, "Alright, alright – I won't make fun of you!"

Finally finding a rhythm to his four-legged strides, Harry halted before the immense mirror, cocking his head to a side, utterly bewildered.

What he saw reflected on the surface had to be, decidedly, the weirdest creature he had ever seen.

His size was that of a dog, yet his body was definitely feline, lithe, powerful and strong, his torso, tail and hind-legs like that of a lion, covered by fur with a golden sheen to it. His head, though, was that of a hawk, with a curved, rounded beak, feathery ears poking from the top. His front paws too, were rather hawk-like, with the sharp, dangerous-looking talons.

However, there was something of a dragon to his form as well: even though his wings were feathery, black and glossy, the shape of them were dragon-like, his eyes, bright green, had slit pupils, and his tongue, he realized as he gaped at his image, was definitely serpentine - long, sinewy, and forked. Not to mention the blasts of fire that kept erupting from his beak, escaping his control-

"You're a Griffin," breathed out Alphard by his back, and Harry instantly whipped around to stare at him, not having liked the sound of that at all.

The term didn't ring any bells, their Care of Magical Creatures professor had certainly never mentioned anything about any 'griffins', but the word itself sounded like-

"Also known as Gryphons," continued Alphard in a faint murmur, before he shot him a speculative look. "In fact, if I'm right, you should be able to talk. In Parseltongue, that is." A thrilled gleam appeared in his grey eyes, as he rambled excitedly, "Remember? A Gryphon was one of the creatures in your brother's list of possible Parseltongue-speaking monsters that could be guarding the Chamber of Secrets. I never paid it any mind because… Well, Gryphons are so very rare, aren't they? Practically extinct – one hasn't been sighted in ages, and-"

Suddenly, a loud bang reverberated on the door, accompanied by an irate, snarling voice, "Open up at once! What is happening in there, Black?"

Alphard went completely pale as he rounded on Harry, whispering distressed, "Change – change back – quick!"

Harry shot him an incredulous look. How was he supposed to do that? Forgetting himself for a moment, he tried to express his quandary-

"Morgana's tits!" howled Alphard exasperatedly, as he hastily jumped away from another blast of fire. "Stop trying to speak until you manage to do it in Parseltongue, instead of breathing fire at me, you idiot!"

He shot Harry a frantic look, as Tom's voice rose through the closed and clearly spell-locked door of the bathroom, the boy gesturing wildly with his hands, as he whispered sharply, "It's very easy. Just close your eyes, Harry, and picture yourself as a human! Do it now!"

Casting him a dubious look, Harry nevertheless obeyed him. For a split second, he felt nothing, but then he was abruptly encompassed by a very bizarre sensation – as though he was spinning at top speed on the spot, hurling in a whirlwind.

"You have to picture your clothes too!" squawked Alphard's voice, just as Harry opened his eyes, finding he was, once again, a boy.

Alphard had gone beet red as he anxiously flung a towel at Harry, which he automatically caught in mid air, just as the door of the bathroom was smashed open by a spell, and a troop of people came striding inside.

Urgently wrapping the towel around his waist, Harry stood stiffly in the middle of the bathroom, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Alphard, for his part, looked dismayed and mortified, as their dormmates stared at them.

Orion was sniggering under his breath, Neron Lestrange leering at them, Abraxas Malfoy had his cold, silvery eyes narrowed, flickering from Harry to Alphard and back, and Tom… well, his brother looked livid.

"What," hissed out Tom in a very low, dangerous tone of voice, piercing them both with dark blue eyes narrowed to slits, "precisely, were you two doing in here?"

Harry felt his scar split with blazing pain as his brother's eyes darted to his naked chest, down to the towel haphazardly tied around his waist.

"It seems," tittered Orion, now chuckling loudly, "that what my cousin had in his 'dirty laundry' was Harry." He shot Alphard a highly amused look. "What have you been going, Alphie? Shrinking him to a manageable size so that you can carry him around, and pop him out whenever you feel the fancy to get a bit frisky with him-"

"No!" spluttered Alphard, going scarlet. "I don't – I wasn't - I would never-"

Harry ogled at them. "What?"

"Then explain this situation," drawled Abraxas frostily, angrily arching a pale eyebrow at them. "It looks quite condemning to me."

"It's nothing of the sort!" said Alphard in a high-pitch. "I would never – not to Harry – not that way-"

"I have been told," said Tom in a soft, dangerous voice, skewering him with his gaze, "that you distinctly said you were going to the bathroom, to touch yourself-" he shot Alphard an utterly disgusted look "- to 'wank', in your own uncouth words. And here I find you – having 'wanked'? With my brother for company?"

"No!" stammered Alphard, seemingly choking on his own tongue, as he continued spluttering unintelligibly, "We weren't – we didn't – I would never risk –"

"It's not like that - we're best mates!" snapped Harry bristling as he realized what they were all thinking, feeling rather discomfited and hot around the ears as he cast them a look of absolute disbelief, before he turned to Alphard. "Al doesn't like me that way – right?"

Alphard went bright pink, swallowing thickly, before he shook his head. He shot them all an incensed scowl, before addressing Harry, vehemently, "You're my one true friend. I'd never do anything to mess that up!"

Feeling a powerful wave of relief, Harry nodded and grinned at him, before he rounded on the others, squaring his shoulders –ignoring the fact that he was starkers except for the flimsy towel- and crossing his arms over his chest, glowering. "And I don't see what you lot have to do with it. What we do in the bathroom is none of your business!"

"I'll have to disagree with that, little brother," spat Tom, his face contorting with such fury that Harry had rarely felt his scar burning with such intense pain, making him groan and slump as he rubbed it fiercely. "Whatever you do is very much my business." He shot him an enraged glare, as he added in a snarl, "And do cover yourself up!"

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, feeling as though Tom was ready to spout to him the same nonsense he had at poor Nagini. The next thing he'd be hearing from his brother was that Tom would be the one giving him permission to 'mate' or not, and choosing his partners for him, to boot – by the looks of it.

"This is stupid," bit out Harry acridly, glowering at them as he grabbed Alphard by the wrist, "and we've got to leave." He shot his friend a quizzical look. "You said something about Dorea wanting to see us?"

"Yes. Yes!" said Alphard in a loud voice, as though holding onto that fact as if it were a lifeline. "In the common room – we're so late!"

Harry lost no time in dragging his friend out of the bathroom, plowing into the other boys to push them a side.

Once in their dorm, he hastily went for his wand and summoned all his clothes, hurriedly putting them on as he ran up the stairs.

"This subject is not over!" he heard Tom's voice calling after him, viciously, but Harry paid him no mind as he finished buttoning his robes.

Alphard was seemingly too overwhelmed by events to even think about changing out of his pajamas, and it was a rather infuriated Dorea who glared at them both as they approached the group gathered in one corner of their common room.

"We've been waiting for you for over an hour," she bit out mordantly, giving them the evil eye.

"We had... trouble getting ready," mumbled Alphard feebly, with two pink spots lingering on his cheeks.

Harry eyed all his other teammates, who looked rather grim, before he scowled at her. "What's all this about? We don't have Quidditch practice today, do we?"

"We do now," snapped Dorea shortly. "I've changed our strategy."

Feeling a very ominous twist in the pit of his stomach, Harry stared at her. "Oh. How?"

She shot him a nasty, gleeful smirk. "Why, Riddle, it's rather simple. You'll be our new Seeker, of course."

"What?" spat Harry indignantly, seething. "Absolutely not! I won't-"

"You will do as I say," growled Dorea darkly, "or you're out of the Team!"

Harry's temper flared, and he instantly rounded on a tall, lanky girl by Dorea's side – the current Seeker, Berenice Bole. "What about you?"

The girl waved a hand dismissively. "I'm out. I've been telling Dorea for some time that I want to quit." She shot Dorea a brief scowl, before turning to him. "I'm in my seventh year. I have my impending N.E.W.T.s to worry about."

Harry gave her a dirty look, feeling betrayed. Not that he had ever thought that she was a good Seeker. If she had been halfway decent she would have caught the Snitch in their last match instead of him, by accident.

Berenice arched an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over him. "And Dorea is right. You do have the body type for the Seeker position."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" bit out Harry truculently, glaring at both girls, for all he had ever heard about Seekers was that it was best when they were 'lithe and small', and as always, any aspersions cast on his lack of impressive height nettled him.

"And the skills and personality," interjected Dorea smugly. "You're a stupidly reckless flyer, Riddle, and it's that sort of mindless daring that we need to win the match against the Gryffs. Charlus won't see it coming."

Harry glowered at her, feeling that he had been thoroughly insulted instead of praised in any way.

"But you can't make Harry the Seeker," groused Alphard, scowling at his aunt. "He's an excellent Chaser! And he knows all our formations and tactics – we can't play just with two Chasers-"

"We won't," said Dorea with vast satisfaction. "I already have someone in mind to replace Riddle as Chaser." And she swiftly turned to call over her shoulder in a cheery voice, "Varian!"

Harry blanched as he saw who was responding to her summons. He had already had the misfortune of getting acquainted with Varian Vaisey in The Slug Club's gatherings. The latest of which had been spent with Horace Slughorn salivating over the fifth-year boy, filthy rich and well connected, given that the Vaisey family were the current owners of the Comet Trading Company, manufacturers of racing brooms, along with being the founders and owners of the Puddlemere United team.

Furthermore, Vaisey had a reputation of being quite a 'dandy', with his wavy, sandy hair and honey-colored eyes, as flirtatious and generous with his attentions to anything that moved as Orion Black, 'dreamy' as many girls – and not only Slytherins, at that- kept constantly gossiping and giggling about, and supposedly, possessing such handsomeness that it rivaled with that of Tom's.

Harry snorted acidly at that, hardly thinking that anyone could compare to his brother's good looks, and then going a bit green around the edges at that thought. But it vanished instantly as Vaisey left his gaggle of simpering girls behind, and approached them with a saunter.

"Have you told them already, 'Rea?" said the tall boy, flashing them a smirk.

Harry shot him a poisonous look, realizing he was not alone in his aversion. Their Keeper, Antonin Dolohov, grunted with dislike, while the two massive, muscled, and broad-shouldered Beaters - Nefarius Nott and Malgrant Mulciber- grimaced.

Alphard, for his part, seemed to be of two minds, as though assaulted by warring, powerful desires clashing within him, a pinched expression on his face. As if trying to decide whether to ask for autographs of his favorite team's players or stick with his staunch support of Harry, if Harry had to hazard a guess.

Thankfully, his best friend was apparently inclined to go for loyalty, as he mimicked the expression on Harry's face, biting out, "I've never seen you play before. I doubt that you can be as good as Har-"

"I have often trained with Puddlemere United," interrupted Vaisey in a conceited drawl. "Did so last summer, in fact. Father's been wanting me to get a hands-on experience to see how the team works. I will, after all, be helping him manage the business once I'm out of school."

"And," interjected Dorea in a reverent voice, blazing with giddy glee, "his father has promised to donate brooms to the Team if Varian is part of us. It will give us just the extra advantage we need. Their newest model, not yet released to the market-"

"The Cleansweeps," said Vaisey proudly, smirking widely. "The best of the very best. They will far outstrip anything on the market nowadays." He shot Harry a pointed look. "Even the Tinderblast." He waved a hand importantly. "We've already equipped Puddlemere with the Cleansweeps, and all the other teams in the League have put in their orders as well."

"I'll stick with my Tinderblast," gritted out Harry acidly, "thank you very much."

"This is most unfair!" grumbled Alphard angrily, glowering at his aunt. "I don't care about the stupid brooms – Harry doesn't deserve to be replaced-"

"I'll tell you what's unfair, nephew," spat Dorea in a tempestuous tone. "What's unfair is that I haven't been able to beat Charlus at Quidditch in all my years as Captain! What's unfair is that I've spent years listening to him boast about how vastly superior flyers the Gryffs are when compared to us Slytherins, and it makes me spitting mad. What's unfair is that I refuse to graduate from Hogwarts without winning the Cup and thoroughly destroying my fiancé in the Pitch, and I have only you lot to make it happen! So we are going to make this work!"

"But," began Alphard with a mutinous look on his face.

"And you both deserve this," snapped Dorea, steamrolling over him as she skewered them with a hard look. "I said there would be consequences, did I not, to your disastrous performance against Ravenclaw? Well, this is it." She shot Alphard a baleful look. "Perhaps, if you don't have your little friend with you, you'll focus on playing better." She then glowered at Harry. "And perhaps, being a Seeker, Riddle, will make you value what you had before and lost, due to your appalling idiocy during our last match. You decided to snatch the Snitch – so you'll be doing that from now on!"

"I didn't decide!" roared Harry furiously, feeling as though he had told her that a thousand times before and she still kept accusing him of the same ridiculous thing.

"I'll see you all in the Pitch, in one hour!" barked Dorea at the top of her voice, looking ferocious. "And we'll spend this whole Sunday training until we drop from exhaustion, until our new team plays so seamlessly, so perfectly well tuned and honed, that it looks as though we all share one mind!"

"Let us not have any ill feelings between us, shall we?" said Vaisey, patronizingly patting him on the back, having the gall to look amused when Harry slapped the hand away from his shoulder as he gave him a venomous glower.

Three hours later, Harry felt nothing but embittered wretchedness.

The fact that Varian Vaisey was proving to be a rather good Chaser was making it all worse.

Flying high up in the air, Harry gazed down at his teammates far below, feeling a pang of painful longing as he caught sight of Dorea and Alphard passing the Quaffle between them and Vaisey, their expressions one of delighted enjoyment.

Harry scowled, and didn't think about it twice when he saw a Bludger zooming by. Taking advantage of the fact that Dorea allowed them to carry their wands during practice, he flicked it at the Bludger and muttered a spell under his breath.

In an instant, it jerked and abruptly changed directions, shooting like a bullet towards Varian Vaisey's overinflated head.

There was an alarmed shout, and the fifth-year boy spun around in his broom, just in time to dodge the ball.

"What do you think you're doing, Riddle!" shrieked Dorea furiously.

Not feeling at all repentant, Harry glared at her, his dark expression intensifying when he caught sight of Vaisey smirking at him instead of looking angry or affronted.

'Git,' mouthed Harry nastily at him, bristling even further when the boy's smirk widened in response.

"Concentrate on getting the Snitch!" bellowed Dorea irately, for what must have been the umpteenth time. "If you don't prove that you can, I swear I will kick you from the team, Riddle!"

Grunting, Harry flung around on his broom, so as to no longer have to see how all the rest were having the time of their lives and he was stuck up there, looking for a stupid, fluttering golden ball.

The whole point of why he had always liked Quidditch was that it was a team effort. That he got to play with Alphard and Dorea, with people he liked and valued.

He had never liked playing alone – there was no fun in that. He had always had others to play with, like Billy Stubbs, Eric Whalley, and Amy Benson in the orphanage. When it came to that, he felt he had always been a sociable, outgoing person.

He had never been like Tom, who preferred and cherished being alone.

The Seeker position now seemed the very worst to him, utterly boring.

Indeed, there it was again, fluttering by the goal hoops. He had sighted the Snitch a couple of times by then, but couldn't make himself muster the will or interest to go after the silly thing.

This time, though, he resignedly veered towards it, sighing as he flattened himself against his Tinderblast, making it fly at top speed.

Predictably, sensing his approach, the Snitch shot into wild flying patterns, disappearing, before Harry spotted it low near the ground.

He dived like a sinking weight, not even enjoying, as he usually did, the way in which the wind fiercely slapped against his hair and robes.

He simply flung out a hand, grasped the Snitch in a tight fist, and abruptly jerked his broom's handle upwards, just in time to avoid smashing against the ground.

A cry of triumph rent the air, as Dorea's voice roared exultantly, "I knew you had it in you – I knew you'd be an outstanding Seeker!"

Paying her no mind, nor to the stunned, impressed expressions on his teammates' faces, Harry released the Snitch, floated back to the ground, and hopped off his Tinderblast.

Without a backward glance, not even when he saw from the corners of his eyes how Alphard was about to approach him with a blazing, happy expression on his face, no doubt to congratulate him, he hoisted his broom on a shoulder and was quick to dash out of the Quidditch Pitch, utterly sullen and depressed.

What his teammates had apparently regarded as an awesome display of Seeking abilities, merely felt like ashes in his mouth.

"Are you still sulking?" murmured Alphard with a roll of his eyes. "I don't know why – you're a great Seeker, Harry-"

"Stuff it," grumbled Harry without much feeling. "I don't want to talk about that." He shot him a pained look. "Are you really sure that Griffins have nothing to do with Godric Gryffindor?"

"I've told you already," said Alphard, sounding half exasperated, half amused. "The name Griffin has no association with the Founder's surname."

Harry scowled, as he flipped the pages of the tome in his hands. They were in the Room of Requirements, which had turned, for him, into a veritable library filled with books regarding his animal form.

So far, the tidbits of speculative information regarding the rare creatures had been interesting enough, but it was their name that bothered him the most.

He could only imagine what Tom would say if he ever knew that Harry could turn into a 'Griffin', which, to boot, resembled a lion quite a lot, when it came to his body and tail.

His brother had often viciously accused him of not being Slytherin enough, of having many traits he termed as 'pathetically Gryffindorish of him'. The name of his Animagus form would be the last straw, Harry was certain. He would never hear the end of it.

Harry glanced at his friend, and opened his mouth.

"And I won't ever tell Tom," said Alphard instantly in a tired monotone. "I promise, for the hundredth time."

Scowling, Harry glanced back to his book, as he grumbled under his breath, grimacing, "I just wish they were called something else."

"And I just wish," interjected Alphard, shooting him an envious look, "that I was a Parselmouth, so that I could have a magical creature as my form – a fierce, scary-looking one like yours."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at that, as he closed his book and indolently leaned back on his plushy sofa. "You still have to tell me what you are."

"Who's said that I know?" retorted Alphard briskly, his expression immediately closing off.

Harry snorted at that. "Come on. You knew exactly what I had to do to change back." He shot him a roguish grin. "You even said that it was 'easy'. It can only mean that you've done it - that you've been doing it perhaps for quite a while."

"Maybe I have," said Alphard caustically, shooting him a baleful look as he crossed his arms over his chest, "maybe I haven't."

The boy deflated though, when Harry wriggled his eyebrows at him, and he snapped, "Fine. I have. Happy now?"

"I will be, when you show me what you are," said Harry, grinning toothily.

"You'll just make fun of me," groused Alphard gloomily, shooting him a half-assessing, half-accusing look.

"I won't," said Harry rolling his eyes. "I swear. Don't be a prat, just show me already!"

"Alright," muttered Alphard reluctantly, rising to his feet, before he fulminated Harry with a grave, menacing look. "But I promise, if you chuckle –just once– I'll… I'll…"

He seemed to rake his brain for evil, nasty things that his Animagus form could do to Harry in retaliation, and apparently came empty-handed, because he scowled at him with a pinched expression on his face, as he barked, "Just don't laugh!"

"Just get on with it, Al," said Harry, impatient with excitement as he leaned forward in his sofa.

Alphard shot him a peeved look, before he deeply sighed, scrunching his eyes shut, for a moment looking pained in his effort of concentration.

Though, in a blink of an eye, the boy disappeared, and Harry gawked, marveled at the boy's swift skill, to then erupt into peals of laughter when he caught sight of what Alphard had transformed into.

Of course that he had known that his friend was bound to be something of the sort, but he still found it immensely funny. It explained so much for starters, since Alphard did look rather cuddly –and he had acted so during their first hallucinatory experience.

The little critter on the floor before him seemed to be scowling, and Harry sniggered.

"Hullo," said Harry with a wide grin, as he outstretched a fingertip, scratching the little creature's puffy, furred cheeks. "Here, here, Chippy, Chippy-"

"Ouch!" cried out Harry a second later, though he couldn't stop grinning around his bitten finger as he stuck it in his mouth.

Alphard was, indeed, quite an adorable-looking chipmunk. A foul-tempered, revengeful one, nonetheless, especially now when the little squirrel was making odd, angry chittering noises, glaring at him.

But still, Harry broke into guffaws, seeing how the chipmunk's tail had puffed up in irritation, so much so that it had slapped Alphard on the face, and the squirrel was now angrily battling with his own tufted tail in an attempt to keep it under control, making skittering, annoyed motions with his tiny paws, looking increasingly ill-tempered with his animal form.

Harry wished he had one of those photograph cameras to take a shot. A shame that it would be in black and white, but still, Alphard's Animagus' main traits could have still been preserved for eternity: the black and white stripes running from his head to the tip of his tail, the tiny white dots decorating his tail and sides of his furry back, the curly, white-dipped tip of his tail, and especially, the big, liquid-like and all-grey eyes glowering at him.

"Don't know what you're complaining about," Harry informed the little critter with a wide grin on his face. "I think your form is rather useful. You can easily squirrel around wherever you like, and no one would bat an eyelash. They'd just think you're scavenging for food or have lost your way from some forest."

The chipmunk made another series of irked, chattering sounds, before Alphard suddenly bloomed before Harry, as though abruptly enlarging and shooting upwards from the floor.

"It's downright shameful!" snapped the boy, as he slouched on a sofa, glowering at him. "I wanted to be something impressive and intimidating – not funny!" He shot him a resentful look. "And you did laugh, you git!"

"Couldn't help it," said Harry unrepentantly, widely smiling at him, before he shook his head. "And you're wrong. Your Animagus form is perfect, there's nothing to be ashamed of – it's inconspicuous, so it's definitely better than mine."

Alphard harrumphed at that, not looking at all mollified.

"I need to learn how to transform with my clothes included," then mused Harry, as he eyed his friend, highly impressed that Alphard could apparently do it without a second thought.

"Yes, you'd better get a hang of that, we wouldn't want a repeat performance," said Alphard dryly, his tone at odds with the flush suddenly suffusing his cheeks.

The following weeks flashed by, in a mesh of frenzied excitement for the incoming match and in a chaotic jumble of a general state of nerves due to the end-of-year tests in all their subjects.

Nevertheless, despite how they had been revising their class notes like maniacs, he and Alphard still found some time to transform into their Animagi animals.

Alphard seemed to come to peace with his form, increasingly feeling more comfortable in his own fur, to the point of nagging Harry so that they went to the Forbidden Forest, to run wild and frolic around for a bit of carefree fun.

However, Harry had his misgivings. It was true what he had said: his Griffin form was too noticeable, too unique. He was wary of transforming anywhere that wasn't the Room of Requirements. If anyone saw him, even in the Forest, word could spread around and someone could suspect that he was no real, nearly-extinct Griffin, but an unregistered, law-breaking Animagus wizard.

He didn't want to risk it, particularly because they were eyes watching in the Forbidden Forest.

It had happened several times, when he had been flying around in the Quidditch Pitch during practice, or even striding across Hogwarts' grounds to reach the greenhouses for Herbology lessons: he had seen a now familiar pair of big, sky blue eyes observing him – from amidst a bush or peeking around a tree trunk, bright with interest and curiosity.

He knew whom the eyes belonged to: that little centaur, Firenze, who seemed to be utterly fascinated with wizards in general and Harry in particular. Always looking skittish, ready to canter away at the slightest chance that he could be caught red-handed.

It was evident, from what Harry recalled the other, belligerent centaurs saying to him once, that Firenze wasn't supposed to be spying on the students, wasn't supposed to feel the slightest bit of curiosity towards humans, whom they considered vastly inferior to themselves.

Not that he particularly distrusted the little centaur, but it gave him another reason to refuse to transform in the Forbidden Forest.

The day of the match against Gryffindor, Harry was feeling rather morose. After the game, only two weeks were left –filled with examinations– and then he'd be leaving for Germany, to spend another oppressive summer in Von Krauss Castle, now with the added threat that they would be meeting Grindelwald.

He was not looking forward to it. Tom, on the other hand, seemed to be almost cheery. A rather alarming good mood had taken hold of his brother, and Harry was highly resentful of it.

That Tom could feel near happiness at the prospect of finally meeting Grindelwald, while he could only feel dread, didn't seem fair to him.

Five hours later, Harry was dragging his feet into the Castle, leaving a thick trail of mud behind, his body drenched in sweat, his Quidditch uniform splattered with soil, as he tiredly hoisted his Tinderblast on a shoulder, paying no mind to the heated, sullen glares that Gryffindors were shooting him, while he heard the buoyant, triumphant cries of his housemates, as they were all returning from the Quidditch Pitch.

His teammates were still in the Pitch's changing rooms, taking showers after the match. Harry hadn't bothered.

He had simply nodded when Dorea had tightly hugged him, nearly crying with elation, informing him that the Cup-pricing ceremony would take place in the Great Hall in two hours and that he was expected to later attend the party in their common room.

The match, to him, hadn't been at all eventful or enjoyable. He had simply done as Dorea had bid him. He had aimlessly flown for over three hours, as the rest of his teammates played their best and dirtiest against Gryffindor.

Harry wouldn't have even minded doing the things he had seen his teammates do, like nastily knocking players unconscious, savagely careening into Minerva McGonagall with their brooms when she had been in possession of the Quaffle, take hold of Charlus Potter's broom twigs, as a maniacal-looking, cackling Dorea had done to stop the boy from scoring, or even take hold of a Beater's bat to slam it in the head of the Gryff's Keeper.

For once, he would have done any of it, if it had meant that he could have been flying down there with the rest of his teammates, taking part of it all.

However, his task had been simply reduced to waiting: waiting until his teammates' outrageous tactics had allowed them to have a 200 point lead over Gryffindor, and then, catch the Snitch.

And so he had done, to the tumultuous roar of the Slytherin stands, as it dawned on them that Harry's abrupt, effortless capture meant that they had won the Quidditch Cup.

Harry hadn't even been bothered by the fact that, for once, his brother hadn't been in the audience.

"Wait up!" came a panting voice, and Harry hardly slowed his strides as Alphard came trotting to his side. "Why didn't you stay? We were about to throw a veritable party in the changing rooms!"

Harry shot him a glance, seeing that his friend looked half-soaked, half-dirty, as though he had suddenly noticed Harry's absence from the changing rooms, in mid way of taking a shower, and had ran after him.

"You did great!" Alphard slammed a hand on his shoulder, beaming at him with the power of a thousand suns. "You won us the Cup, Harry!" He chortled ecstatically. "Dorea is beside herself with giddiness, I think she's about to name you an honorary Black!"

Harry gave him a faint smile, and continued dragging his feet.

"Where are you going?" said Alphard, shooting him a confused and partly concerned frown.

"To bed," muttered Harry, with a shrug of his shoulder. "Just for a bit. I'm tired." He cast his friend a forced grin. "Have to be fresh for when they give us the Cup before the whole school, don't I?"

"Sure," said Alphard hesitantly, piercing Harry more intently with his gaze, as though having a vague suspicion that not all was well with him. "But I think you should go back with me and-"

Kill… I must kill…

Harry halted in his tracks, his green eyes popping wide, his heart suddenly jumping to his throat. "Did you hear that?"

Alphard gave him a worried look. "Hear what?"

Must…. must kill…

"Zar!" choked Harry in a strangled, half disbelieving, half appalled voice, as he wildly stared at the wall by his side.

They hadn't entered the dungeons, they were still in the entrance hall of the school, but he was certain that it was coming from within the walls, from-

"The pipes," he gasped out horrified. "Someone opened the latch!"

"What are you-"

Not even thinking about the Tinderblast, his numb fingers letting it drop, he broke into a crazed dash, jumping up the nearest moving staircase three steps at a time, such panic encompassing him that he could barely hear Alphard yelling after him, fast on his heels.

He was completely focused on following the voice, hearing how it was moving much faster than him inside the walls, knowing he might not make it on time, as he ran with all the speed his aching muscles could muster.

Harry swiveled on the first landing and took a great leap to catch the already departing steps of the following moving staircase, frantically pin-wheeling his arms to regain his balance and avoid falling two-stories down into the entrance hall.

He managed to grasp the stone railings, and catapulted himself forwards up the stairs, finally reaching the second landing and wasting not another hitch of breath as he haggardly rushed down the familiar second-floor corridor.

He saw her just as he was turning around a corner, a small, tendril-like glow, slithering at top speed along the edge of the walls, as Nagini's voice hissed gleefully, "Master - master! The creature is misbehaving. He-"

"I know!" shouted Harry in a frenzied hiss. "Go hide, keep using your magic, and don't let anyone see you!"

And he sprinted past her, finally turning the last corner, as he entered the corridor of the girls' lavatory.

But now, he could hear muffled voices as he sped towards the distant door. Even above all the noise of the students below, he could hear them quite clearly.

"… what have you done? What is that!" Myrtle's voice was screeching, sounding terrified and fearful. "I want you to leave, go away, or I'll tell the Headmaster what I know – I'll tell what I saw in London, I'll tell about your locket!"

"I see," Tom's cool voice answered. "Is that what you threatened my brother with? Is that the true reason why he took you to the Yule Ball?"

"You wear the sign of that terrible, evil wizard everyone's been talking about!" shrieked Myrtle with an ear-splitting wail. "I know what it means! I know what I saw and I'll-"

"I am afraid that you will not be doing much-"

Harry panted as he finally reached the door and yanked it open, wand in hand, as he pelted inside.

Though for a moment, he froze at the scene that awaited him.

Myrtle and Tom were standing by the stalls, and just behind them, the sinks –opened, revealing the immense, gaping black hole of the pipe, a huge scaly head rising from it.

Myrtle looked mad with vindictive, spiteful anger, Tom looked… demented, with the sort of expression that Harry had never wanted to see on his brother's face again, contorted with vicious and gleeful anticipation, with horrible pleasure, with feverish madness, as he kept staring at the Ravenclaw girl, and hissed as though he was aware of nothing but her impending doom, "Open your inner eyelids – kill her!"

Zar's body was already partly swaying above the sinks when Myrtle began to turn her face around, and to Harry, it felt like an eternity, as though she was moving in slow motion, and just as abruptly, everything sped up.

"No!" yelled Harry as he instantly aimed his wand at the girl. "Conjuntivitus!"

The red beam of light blasted across her face, making her thick eyeglasses fly away, as Myrtle staggered, shrieking in agony, clutching her swollen, leaking eyes - just a split second before she would have met the Basilisk's lethal gaze.

Tom snarled and flung around to stare at him, looking furiously deranged, as though just noticing his presence, as the Basilisk let out a rattling, furious hiss.

"Don't interfere!" thundered Tom irately, his handsome features monstrously contorted with wrath. "This must happen! Kill her – kill her now!"

Zar instantly leaped at the girl, jaws open wide and Harry was too late, even though he jumped between wailing, hysterically sobbing girl and Basilisk, trying to shield her with his body, the Basilisk swooped down, sinking his large, sharp, lethally poisonous fangs into her chest.

Harry screamed in horror as Myrtle gasped, toppling backwards to the floor, two immense, gaping wounds on her robes, quickly drenching with spurting, bright red blood.

"What have you done, Tom!" bellowed Harry frenziedly as he crouched by her side, staring at her heaving, mangled chest in horrified disbelief. He shot his brother a wild, incomprehensive look, as he choked out, "What have you done?"

"What was necessary," spat Tom, as he eyed Myrtle's dwindling pants for air with detached interest. He then cast him an exultant, triumphant look. "I've finished it. I completed the potion-"

"What?" croaked Harry faintly.

"What do you think I've been doing these past months in the Chamber of Secrets," sneered Tom acidly at him, before a feverish, elated gleam sparked in his eyes once more. "I completed it! She's the first sacrifice – now, only twelve more will be required, and then, I can make Zar imbibe the potion - I can finalize the ritual and we'll have Salazar Slytherin back!"

"But we agreed!" roared Harry in a strangled voice, beside himself with rage, and betrayal, and desperation, and such devastation that he could barely string two words together. "Never this – we agreed!"

"No," snarled Tom viciously, shooting him a deeply contemptuous look. "I never said I agreed. You forced me to play along. You never listened to what I wanted. You never accepted it. Hence I had to act, on my own. It's your own fault!"

A loud gasp suddenly came from the door, and they both spun around, seeing Alphard standing there, staring with wide grey eyes, looking white and aghast, with a now visible Nagini dangling from his arms.

Tom shot him a spiteful sneer, before he sauntered towards the door, knocking a frozen Alphard to a side as he began leaving, whispering in a deadly tone as he passed him by, "Ever say a word about this to anyone, Black, and you'll be next."

"Where are you going!" shouted Harry frantically. "We must help her – we must reverse this-"

"I'm going to finish it," spat Tom crisply over his shoulder, before he coolly strode away.

"Harry," breathed Alphard in a feeble voice, as he took a shaky step inside. "Is she – is she…" His eyes widened with sudden hope, as he gasped out, "I can go fetch Miss Nigtingale! Wait here and I'll-"

"No!" Harry jumped to his feet, grabbing his friend by the shoulder, his mind working as fast and hard as it had never done before, his green eyes filled with urgency. "She can't help. The only thing that can is-"

His eyes widened, a mad plan unfolding in his mind, and he gripped his friend tighter as he added frenziedly, "The Lethifold! The one Professor Merrythought keeps in a trunk – it must be in her office, you must let it loose, Al!"

"What?" Alphard shot him a bewildered look.

Harry gritted his teeth, not knowing what his brother had gone off to do, but aware that this was of the utmost importance. "Let it loose in the castle, Alphie. Go – now!"

"But the girl," spluttered Alphard confusedly, his gaze darting back to the barely breathing Myrtle. "She needs help-"

"I'll deal with her!" shouted Harry frantically, as he gave his friend a hard shove. "For Merlin's sake, go release the blasted Lethifold!"

Alphard swallowed thickly, gave a jerky nod of the head, and vanished.

Nagini had sprung from the boy's arms just in time, now slithering up to the girl splayed on the floor, looking curiously at her. "Is the human dying?"

Paying her no mind, Harry instantly went back to Myrtle and rent her robes apart, nearly gagging when he caught sight of her condition.

Her breathing had turned very faint and weak, her mangled chest barely moving, her brassier was slashed open, revealing the fang wounds that had ripped the flesh of her breasts open, a black fetid liquid oozing, mingled with her blood – the Basilisk's venom.

For a split second, Harry glanced up at Zar, seeing red with horrified fury, his wand shaking in his hand with the need to shred the beast to pieces.

But then he shook his head.

After attacking, the Basilisk had merely remained there, a portion of his strong, thick body protruding from the sinks, the rest still inside the pipe, swaying his huge head from side to side, as if merely contemplating his victim with a rather dotty air about him. His inner eyelids had been closed shut at some point, his eyes now looking greyish with the film.

And yet, it hadn't been Zar's fault – the 'Basilisk' knew no better and understood little.

Harry stared back at the barely conscious Myrtle, and instantly made up his mind, as he desperately cried out with a voice raw and burning in his throat, "FAWKES!"

His fingers clenched jerkily on Myrtle's torn robes. It had to work! It had worked twice before – it simply had to work this time too!

"FAWKES – I need you, help me!" yelled Harry again, so frantically anxious and fearful that he felt as though his thundering heart was about to leap out of his constricted throat.

Suddenly, with a blaze of fire, the magnificent bird flashed into existence, batting its beautiful golden and fiery wings, letting out a loud trill, as his black eyes darted to the opened sinks, looking startled, before his gaze followed the long scaly body emerging from the pipe.

His trill abruptly turned into an ear-splitting shriek, as though it was an earth-shattering battle cry, something Harry had never heard before or even imagined that could come out of a Phoenix, as the bird swopped, and attacked.

Directly going for Zar's eyes, Fawkes' dangerously large and sharp beak looked like a lethal dagger, as he flew straight for the Basilisk with a screech of bloodthirsty triumph.

"No!" roared Harry, as he jumped to his feet, not having expected the reaction, as the Basilisk instantly reared backwards, letting out a fierce, rattling hiss, maws widening and snapping menacingly, sharp fangs poised to kill. "I can't let you harm him – he's innocent!"

But the Phoenix seemed utterly unaware of anything but his prey, and Harry slashed his wand through the air, bellowing, "Diffindo!"

The spell hit Fawkes on one of his wings, making the bird let out a screech of pain, as it hurled to the floor like a rock, its injured wing flapping uselessly.

Furious, Harry leaped and brusquely grabbed the Phoenix by the neck, hoisting him up in the air, as he rounded on Zar, and spat in a mordant hiss, "Go back to the Chamber of Secrets – back to your Lair – now!"

For a moment, Harry thought the Basilisk wouldn't obey him, as the creature's veiled, lethal eyes remained fixed on the Phoenix, but then Zar let out a rattling, disgruntled hiss, and began sinking back into the pipe.

"Go with him!" hissed Harry sharply, as he rounded on Nagini.

The little snake flung her tail at him, looking irked. "I wish to remain, Master-"

"I said go!" snarled Harry, as he tightened his grasp on Fawkes' neck, who had started to wrestle frenziedly against his hold, his beak savagely piercing the flesh of his fingers.

Nagini didn't go quietly, grumbling nasty hisses under her breath, but the moment she had disappeared into the pipe, Harry hissed briskly, "Close!"

As the sinks shifted back into place, he instantly shook Fawkes hard, feeling no mercy or compassion at all. "Stop that! This is not about the Basilisk, this is about her!"

Harry immediately flung the Phoenix to Myrtle's side, crouching himself to check her state, not knowing if he had already wasted too much time.

"Heal her!" he barked desperately, as Fawkes hopped unsteadily on his talons, his mangled wing limp and sticking in an odd angle. "Save her like you tried to save Sherisse Slytherin – Myrtle's an innocent too! Use your tears!"

The Phoenix cast him a sharp look at that, before he turned his magnificent head towards Myrtle's motionless body.

Harry's breath hitched in his throat as Fawkes suddenly tilted his head down, trilling softly as he blinked very slowly, glistening tears forming in his black eyes and rolling down his feathery cheeks, splashing on Myrtle's ravaged chest.

The phoenix repeated the process twice more, and Harry, with his heart racing and pounding hard, watched as her flaps of skin began to knit back to together, as the soft pulp of her breasts ebbed back under her skin, as the fetid, black poison of the Basilisk's fangs began to sizzle and disappear, as though evaporating, the girl's wounds becoming pinker and smaller with each passing second, until they were nothing but unblemished skin.

To his surprise, Fawkes gave several hops, and then shed his tears on Myrtle's shut, swollen, pus-filled eyes, turning them back to normal in a split second, dispelling the effects of Harry's curse.

But it was when Harry abruptly detected a faint movement in the girl's chest, quickly holding two fingers under her nose to make sure he wasn't imagining things, that he turned to gaze at Fawkes with a blazing look on his face, as he breathed out quietly, "Thank you. Thank you."

The Phoenix squawked at him, clearly none too happy with him or anything that had happened.

"I could – erm," said Harry uncomfortably as he eyed the bird's injured wing, "try to heal that for you."

Fawkes screeched at him, tossed his head to a side, and was gone in a blast of fire.

Well, it didn't look as though he was going to be forgiven any time soon, after all.

Not too bothered by it, Harry quickly cast a series of spells and charms on the girl's clothes, cleaning them from any stains of blood and repairing the damage as best he could.

By the time he was done, Myrtle was weakly cracking her eyes open.

"Where am I? What – I was attacked!" she then shrieked, jerking upwards on the floor and then swaying, looking about to faint from blood loss.

Harry instantly wrapped an arm around her waist as he helped her get up on her feet, biting his lip. "How are you feeling?"

"You attacked me!" she screeched, so loudly and close to his ear that Harry winced and thought he had gone momentarily deaf. "And then-" she gasped, letting out a terrified wail "-something else attacked me! I felt knives! Knives tearing me open!"

Harry pierced her with a hard look, for a moment debating if he dared cast on her an Obliviating Charm. The spell had always sounded horrible to him, one of the worse things that could be done to another person, no matter if Ministry officials often did it to muggles for security reasons.

And perhaps, he would have cast it on her, if it weren't for the fact that he had only heard about it, didn't even know how it was done, and decidedly didn't dare do it lest he damage her mind.

Myrtle had had enough for one day.

Nevertheless, he couldn't let her go as she was. And, regretfully, the Imperius Curse was not an option in these parts of the castle where Hogwarts' wards would instantly detect it and inform the Headmaster.

"Myrtle, look at me," said Harry softly, and when the girl did, shooting him a very nasty and suspicious look, he flicked his wand, muttering with all the potency of his magic that he could invest in it, "Confundus!"

Her expression went blank for a second, her myopic eyes fogging, as she staggered in his hold.

Then she blinked, looking deeply confused and groggy, slowly glancing around. "W-where am I? What happened?"

"You were attacked, Myrtle," said Harry at once. "It seems that Professor Merrythought's Lethifold managed to escape somehow, and my brother and I heard your screams and found you here, with the Lethifold about to enfold you, and we scared it away."

Myrtle stared at him incomprehensibly for a moment, and Harry shook her brusquely, as he continued in a sharp voice, "Don't you remember? The Lethifold – you were terrified of it in class, Myrtle! It came after you when it escaped!"

At that, Myrtle let out a high-pitched, wailing whimper, her frame shaking, and Harry released her, greatly relieved.

"Your glasses are there," said Harry swiftly as he spotted the broken spectacles at the other end of the bathroom. "Pick them up and wait for me here-"

"Where are you going?" shrieked Myrtle, instantly wrapping herself around his arm, looking terrified. "You can't leave me alone!"

"I need to see if the Lethifold's still in the corridor – Let go!" snapped Harry angrily, as he yanked his arm away from her clutches. "Stay here!"

And with that, he didn't waste another hitch of breath and sprinted out of the lavatory, slamming the door shut.

He had to find Alphard and check if the boy had managed to release the creature. And he definitely had to find his brother!

Harry sprinted down the corridor, taking a quick turn around the next corner, and nearly tripped when he overheard some very familiar voices.

"I've told ye!" suddenly bellowed a thick, desperately pleading voice. "Aggy couldn't've don' it!"

"A student was attacked, Hagrid, by some beast. Only your Acromantula could have possibly done that to her. I've seen her –she's dying, probably dead by now – I couldn't save her from your monster quick enough-"

Harry became pale and livid, as he realized what was going on, spurring his legs further to allow him to reach the pair as soon as possible.

"But Aggy's been locke' in 'is cupboar'!" howled Hagrid's voice disconsolately. "He couldn't hav' gotten out on 'is own!"

"You were watching the Quidditch match, Hagrid. You can't know what your monster did or did not do. That you found him in his cage when you returned proves nothing. The Acromantula probably hid back after he attacked the girl-"

"Aggy's no monste' and he didn't do it – I'm sure he wouldn't! Tell 'im, Aggy!"

"I've had enough of this nonsense. You're coming with me. I'm taking you and the beast to see the Headmaster – let him decide what to do with the pair of you-"

Harry turned the next corner just in time to see Tom aiming his wand at Hagrid, both of them standing by the opened door of the cupboard. Tom looking stony-faced and grave, Hagrid with thick tears rolling down his wide cheeks, with Aragog wildly struggling for release in his wide arms.

Without a second thought, Harry aimed at his brother's back and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"