CHAPTER TWELVE: QUIDDITCH AND POLYJUICE POTION

Uncle Severus ended up leading me back to his personal chambers.

'I thought that you were meant to be taking me to my dormitory,' I said, allowing my true form to show as I wrapped my arms around his waist. He held me close.

'That was just coded,' he replied, leading me over to his couch. We sat down together. 'Are you alright?'

'Yeah, I'm okay. Whatever petrified Mrs Norris was gone when I arrived.'

'Thank goodness for that.'

'Uncle Severus, what is the Chamber of Secret's?' I asked curiously.

'You know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution. For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. Then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families.

He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and it resulted in Slytherin leaving the school.

'According to legend, Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.'

'What do you mean by the horror within?'

'There is supposedly a monster within that can only be control by the Heir of Slytherin,' He then smiled down at her, 'but not to worry. Your parents have searched the school many times, and no such chamber has been found.'

'But how do you know that it doesn't exist?' I asked, looking a little worried. 'Surely the message on the wall and the attack on Filch's cat proves it!'

'It doesn't prove anything, sweet heart,' Grandfather said as he entered the room with Grandmother. 'It is probably someone playing a sick joke.'

I wasn't convinced.

'What were you doing in that corridor, anyway?' Grandmother asked, sitting on my other side.

'I was heading back to the Gryffindor common room,' I lied. I didn't know why I didn't tell them about the voice. Maybe it was because I didn't want to worry them into thinking that I was losing it.

While Grandmother and Uncle Sev seemed to accept my answer, Grandfather didn't. He was giving me that look that made me feel as though I was being x-rayed. I felt as though he could see right through me. Thankfully, he eventually appeared to believe me.

'Very well,' Grandfather sighed. 'Severus will take you back to your dormitory. I don't want to take any chances of you being petrified too.'

I nodded my head.

'Night Grandfather… Grandmother.'

When I returned to the Common Room, I found it backed with students, excitedly and nervously talking amongst themselves about the night's events. A few times I heard my name crop up, but I didn't care. All I cared about was finding Ron and Hermione. I had to tell someone what had occurred.

As usual, I found them sitting in our usual spots.

'Harry, are you alright?' Hermione asked the moment she saw me. 'We just heard about the attack on Mrs Norris and how you were there. Whatever attacked her wasn't there when you came along, was it?'

'No, it was gone,' I said.

'What happened?' asked Ron.

After glancing around to make sure that no one was listening in to our conversation, I began to explain the night's events to my best friends. I told them about the bone-chilling voice I had heard in Lockhart's office and how he said that he couldn't hear it. I then explained, in detail, how I left his office and heard it again before following it to the second floor where I found the message and Mrs Norris.

'It must have only just left the corridor before you appeared,' Hermione whispered, looking pale. 'You could have been its second victim for the night!'

'But I wasn't. That's all that matters,' I told her gently.

'But Mrs Norris is cured now, isn't she?'

I shook my head sadly.

'Dumbledore was unable to cure her. He has to wait until Sprout's Mandrakes are fully grown before Snape can make a potion to cure the cat. What I don't understand, though, is why someone, or thing, would attack a cat. By the message on the wall, and given Salazar Slytherin's history with Muggle-borns, I thought they'd be after students with non-magic parents.'

'Well, Filch is a Squib, isn't he?' Ron replied thoughtfully. 'To a pureblood, Squibs are despised as much as Muggle-borns. What's Slytherin got to do with anything, anyway?'

'The Chamber of Secrets was created by Salazar Slytherin,' I replied before asking him a question. 'Now what on earth is a Squib and how do you know Filch is one?'

'A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. They are kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual,' Ron explained. 'As for knowing Filch is one, I heard Malfoy calling him one the other day.'

'And you believed him?'

'Well, it makes sense if Filch is,' Ron responded defensively. 'I mean, have you ever seen him use magic? And it would explain why he hates students so much. He's jealous of us!'

'If you say so,' I muttered. 'I wonder who it is, though.'

'Huh?'

'I wonder who the Heir of Slytherin is who is determined to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts.'

'Easy… Malfoy.'

Hermione and I looked at Ron, before I burst out laughing, while Hermione continued to look unconvinced.

'You're not serious,' she said.

'Of course I am! You've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him!'

'But Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin…'

'Look at his family, Hermione. All his ancestors have been in Slytherin, as he continuously boasts about. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough. Besides, they could have had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!'

'Ron may have a point, Hermione,' I said suddenly, all laughter gone from my face. 'I just remembered; Malfoy was in the crowd of students that saw Mrs Norris and me. He shouts out something about Muggle-borns being next.

'I suppose it's possible,' Hermione said uncertainly.

'But how do we prove it?'

'There might be a way,' Hermione replied slowly, dropping her voice. 'Of course, it would be difficult and not to meant dangerous, very dangerous. We'd also be breaking about fifty school rules in the process.'

'What are you on about?' Ron said irritably.

'All we need to do is brew some Polyjuice Potion, and then we'll be able to sneak inside the Slytherin common room and asked the unexpecting Malfoy a few questions.'

'What the bloody hell is Polyjuice Potion?' asked Ron.

Surprisingly, it was me who answered.

'It's a potion that transforms you into somebody else for a temporary period of time, depending how much you take,' I explained.

Ron and Hermione stared at me.

'What? Hey, I do pay attention to what Snape is saying sometimes,' I lied. True, Uncle Severus had discussed Polyjuice Potion last lesson, but he had also told me about it during the summer holidays. I even watched as he made some, to show his sixth years.

'That's almost as frightening as the attack tonight,' Hermione said seriously, making Ron laugh and me pout. 'Anyway, getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult.

Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library.'

'And how do you suppose we get to it?' Ron demanded. 'I cannot think of a single teacher who would sign a note of permission allowing us to get it.'

'True, but if me make it sound as though we only want the book for theory, they might.'

'Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that,' said Ron. 'They'd have to be really thick!'

'I know the perfect teacher,' I informed my friends cheerfully.

'And who would that be?' Ron and Hermione asked in unison.

'Lockhart,' I replied simply. 'We'll just get Hermione to hand him the note asking to have his autograph. He'll sign anything that stands still long enough.'

'Brilliant, Harry!' Ron laughed, while Hermione looked at me disapprovingly, but she nevertheless agreed to do it.

-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-

Lockhart seemed to have learnt his lesson from the catastrophic incidence with the pixies, hence, he decided to teach and entertain the class by re-enacting his adventures and passages from his books. While many students seemed to enjoy these lessons, like Hermione, I did not. In fact, I spent these lessons trying to decide what was worse, the pixies or the torture I was going through each lesson. Hermione couldn't understand why I hated the lessons so much, but that might have been because she wasn't the one being hurled to the front of the classroom each lesson to help Lockhart with his re-enactments.

The lesson that Hermione was to get Lockhart's "autograph", I was forced to act as a werewolf. I was grateful when the lesson was over. These re-enactments were humiliating, especially when Draco made sure to sit right at the front to watch me, while smirking. He found my acting skills amusing and now informed me that I should never peruse the life of an actor for I sucked at it.

Anyway, as the class was leaving, and I was packing up my belongings, Hermione nervously approached Lockhart.

'How is it that she can help us rescue the Philosopher's Stone bravely, but when it comes to Lockhart, she is practically trembling?' Ron asked, with a tone of disgust, to me.

'She's still to get her priorities straight,' I muttered, turning to watch Hermione and Lockhart's interaction.

'Er – Professor Lockhart?' Hermione stammered nervously. 'I – I was wondering if I could get an autograph?' She handed him the permission form. She had cleverly folded it so he would end up signing it in the space provided for the teachers' signature.

'Of course,' he told her warmly, accepting the note and pulling out an enormous peacock quill. He then scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.

'You didn't want me to write a message or anything on it, did you?' he asked her suddenly.

'No, this is fine. Thank you so much!' Hermione was positively beaming.

Lockhart smiled down at her before noticing Ron and I standing there waiting for Hermione.

'Would you like an autograph too, boys?' he asked.

'Pass,' I said rudely. 'Let's go, Hermione.'

'Wait just a moment, Harry!'

Groaning, I looked back at Lockhart.

'I hear that tomorrows the first Quidditch match of the season,' Lockhart continued now that he had my attention. 'Gryffindor versus Slytherin, is it not? I hear that you're a talented player. I was a Seeker too, you know. Of course, I was offered a position for the National Squad, but as you know, I decided to dedicate my life to eradicate the Dark Forces. So, if you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. I'm always happy to pass on my experience to less able players.'

'Those players must learn a lot from you,' I replied sarcastically, before looking off.

The moment we were out of hearing range, I turned to my friends.

'Can you believe him?' I huffed. 'One of these days he's going to fall from grace, and I hope I am there to see it!'

'Harry!'

'It's true, Hermione. Anyway, let's go and get the book.'

We headed straight for the library and went over to Madam Pince, the librarian, who was a thin, irritable woman. Some students went as far to say that she looked like an underfed vulture.

'Moste Potente Potions?' she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; but Hermione wouldn't let go.

'I was wondering if I could keep it,' she said breathlessly.

'Oh, come on,' Ron said disdainfully, pulling it from her grasp and shoving it at Madam Pince. 'We'll get you another autograph. Like Harry sat before, Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough.'

Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to identify a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and mouldy-looking book. Hermione put it carefully into her bag and we left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.

Five minutes later, we were barricaded in the girls' bathroom on the second floor.

'So tell me again why we are going to be working on the potion in a girls' bathroom?' asked Ron. Being the only boy, he was most uncomfortable being in a girls' bathroom though he was suspicious and confused as to why I appeared at ease. After all, he thought that I was a boy too.

'It is the safest place for us to do it as no one ever comes in here,' Hermione replied as she opened Moste Potente Potions carefully and flicking through its mouldy pages looking for the Polyjuice Potion.

'Why, is it cursed or something?' I asked, looking around.

'No, it's because of Moaning Myrtle,' Hermione replied.

'Who?'

'She's the ghost that haunts the U-bend here,' Hermione explained uncaringly. 'Oh, here it is!'

She had found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. I genuinely hoped the artist had imagined the looks of extreme pain on their faces.

'This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen,' said Hermione as she scanned the recipe. 'Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass,' she murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. 'Well, they're easy enough; they're in the student store cupboard, we can help ourselves... Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn - don't know where we're going to get that - shredded skin of a boomslang - that'll be tricky, too and of course a bit of whomever we want to change into.'

'Excuse me?' Ron said sharply. 'What d'you mean, a bit of whomever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it.'

Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him, like she usually did.

'We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last.'

'D'you realise how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione?' asked Ron. 'The shredded skin of a boomslang is definitely not in the students' cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea.'

Hermione shut the book with a snap.

'Well, if you are going to chicken out, fine,' she said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. 'I don't want to break rules, you know, however, I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion, but if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in!'

'I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be persuading us to break the rules,' said Ron. 'Alright, we'll do it, but not toenails, okay? And how long will it take to make, anyway?'

'Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days... I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients,' answered a much happier Hermione, reopening the book.

'A month? Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!'

'Do you have a better idea?' I asked Ron. I made sure to reply before Hermione could. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously.

'Yeah, you knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow,' Ron said seriously.

-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-

I ended up waking up early on Saturday morning, but remained in bed. I laid there thinking about the coming Quidditch match. I was nervous, though that was only because we would be facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. I know that I had told them that talent is what won a game, but Katie was right when she said that tools helped. The Slytherins' new brooms would definitely give them an unfair advantage over my team. It was for this reason that I desperately wanted to beat Slytherin. I wanted to show them that we were still the better team. Also because I could stand the thought of listening to Malfoy's gloating if he won.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school made its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air.

As usual, Wood made sure to give them a pre-match speech.

'Now, I know that Slytherin has better brooms than us,' he began. 'No point denying it, but as Harry said we've got better people on our brooms. We have the talent. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team.'

He then turned to me.

'It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying because we've got to win today, we've got to.'

'So no pressure, Harry,' Fred told me with a wink.

As we walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted us; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made sure their boos and hisses were heard too.

After forcing Flint and Wood to shake hands, Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, began the game.

I ended up flying higher than any of the other players on the field where I then hovered and squinted around for the Snitch.

'Alright there, Scar head?' yelled Draco, shooting underneath me as though to show off the speed of his broom.

Just as I was about to reply, I was forced to dodged a Bludger that had come pelting straight at me. It only just missed me.

'Close one, Harry!' said George, streaking past me with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin.

I watched as George gave the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian

Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in mid-air and shot straight for me again. I dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Draco. However, just like before, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at my head.

I put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch with the Bludger right behind me.

What on earth is going on? I thought angrily. Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible.

Fred was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. I ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

'Gotcha!' Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to me, the Bludger pelted after me once more and I was forced to fly off at full speed.

Things were not looking good. With all my attention on the Bludger, and having Fred and George flying next to me, I had no chance of finding the Snitch unless it mysteriously flew up my sleeve. To make matters worse, the Slytherins' superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs with the score being Slytherin: Sixty and Gryffindor: Zero.

'Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger –' Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on me.

'We need time out,' said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking my nose at the same time.

Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Fred, George and I dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

'What's going on?' said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. 'We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?'

'We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver,' George said angrily. 'Someone's fixed it - it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it.'

'But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then…' said Wood, anxiously.

Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, I could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in my direction. I suddenly knew what I had to do.

'Listen,' I said to the twins, 'with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one.'

'Don't be thick,' said Fred. 'It'll take your head off.'

Wood was looking from me to the Weasleys.

'I Oliver, this is insane,' said Alicia Spinner angrily. 'You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry –'

'If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!' I said fiercely. 'And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver; tell them to leave me alone!'

'This is your entire fault,' George informed Wood, angrily. '"Get the Snitch

or die trying," what a stupid thing to tell him!'

Madam Hooch had joined us.

'Ready to resume play?' she asked Wood.

Wood looked at the determined look on my face.

'Alright,' he said. 'Fred, George, you heard Harry -leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own.'

The three Chasers and the twins were not happy with Wood and my decision.

The moment I was back in the air, the Bludger was upon me again. Cursing, I began to fly around the pitch. As the game went on, more and more people began to notice the Bludger tailing me. None of them could understand why it was tailing me, and those who remembered my first ever Quidditch match, began to wonder if the Bludger had been cursed like my broom had been.

And then I saw it. The Golden Snitch was flying around not too far away. Unfortunately, Draco had also seen it. I began to panic as he began to chase after it. I had to admit, he was actually a talented Seeker, but fortunately, Fred had seen him going after the Snitch and wacked a Bludger at him. Draco saw it out the corner of his eye and reared out of the way to avoid contact. In that short space of time, he had lost the Snitch and had given me the chance to catch up. By the time he saw it again, it was too late. I was already too far ahead.

I stretched out my right arm, determined to catch the Snitch, and WHAM! I screamed out in pain as the Bludger smashed into my elbow, and I felt my arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in my arm, I determinedly reached out my left arm to catch the Snitch. I made a wild snatch and felt my fingers close on the cold Snitch, but seeing as I was now only gripping the broom with my legs, I felt the broom fall to the ground. Draco, having seen that I was no longer in control of my broom, dove after me and pulled me onto his broom. He then lowered me safely to the ground.

'Thanks, Malfoy,' I muttered, surprised as my broom fell in the mud next to me.

Draco merely shrugged and walked away.

'Harry, are you alright?'

I turned around to see Ron and Hermione running towards me, and to my dismay, so was Lockhart.

'Oh, no, not you,' I moaned.

'Not to worry, Harry,' he said, stopping before me. 'I'll about to fix your arm in a jiffy.'

'It's fine. I'll just go to the hospital wing?' I said through clenched teeth. It was both because of the pain and him.

'Nonsense! This won't hurt a bit.'

'No - don't –' I begged weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at my arm.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at my shoulder and spread all the way down to my fingertips. It felt as though my arm was being deflated. I didn't dare look at what was happening, but I did when Lockhart started talking sounding embarrassed and awkward.

'Ah, yes,' he said. 'Well, that can sometimes happen, but the point is, the bones are no longer broken.'

Taking a deep breath I looked down at my right side. What I saw nearly made me pass out. Poking out of the end of my robes was what looked like a thick, flesh-coloured rubber glove. I tried to move my fingers, but nothing happened. Lockhart hadn't mended my bones, he had removed them.

'Broken? I have no bones left!' I yelled angrily.

'Put you can no longer feel any pain –'

'Thanks, but I think I would prefer to be in pain knowing that I had my bones!'

'Ah, um… Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him to the Hospital Wing? Madam Pomfrey should be able to - er - tidy you up a bit.'

'Should?' I asked sharply. 'What do you mean should? Are you saying that I could be boneless in this arm for the rest of my life?'

'I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix it,' Lockhart said nervously, before hurrying off.

'She'd better, otherwise, you'll be at the top of my hitless,' I growled as Ron and Hermione helped me to my feet.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased when she saw what Lockhart had done.

'You should have come straight to me!' she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm.

'I would have if Professor Lockhart hadn't been so determined to mend it,' I replied bitterly. 'You will be able to repair the damage he has done, won't you?'

'I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful,' Madam Pomfrey said grimly, throwing me a pair of pyjamas. 'You'll have to stay the night and a rough night at that.' She pouring out a steaming beaker full and handing it to me. 'Regrowing bones is a nasty business.'

So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned my mouth and throat as it went down, making my cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and incompetent teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Ron and Hermione to help me gulp down some water. I would wait for Grandmother, Grandfather or Uncle Severus to secretly visit me to help me into my pyjamas.

'We won, though,' said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. 'That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face... he looked ready to kill.'

'Well obvious he wasn't otherwise he wouldn't have saved me,' I commented.

'Yeah, that was a real surprise, especially after fixing that Bludger,' said Ron.

'I don't think it was him who fixed that Bludger,' I said. 'It would take an older student or adult to do something like that, right, Hermione?'

'Right.'

-THE UNMASKED MYSTERY-

Hours and hours later, I woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain. My arm now felt like it was full of large splinters. For a second, I thought that was what had woken me. Then, with a thrill of horror, I realised that someone was sponging my forehead in the dark.

Opening my eyes, I came face to face with a house-elf's large green tennis ball eyes.

'Dobby?'

'Princess Harrietta came back to school,' he whispered miserably with a single tear was running down his long, pointed nose. 'Dobby warned and warned Princess Harrietta. Ah Princess, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Princess Harrietta go back home when she missed the train?'

I heaved myself up on me pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away.

'First off, what are you doing here?' I asked. 'And secondly, how did you know I missed the train?'

Dobby's lip trembled and I was seized by a sudden suspicion.

'It was you!' I said slowly. 'You stopped the barrier from letting Ron and me through!'

'Indeed yes, Princess,' said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously.

'Why?'

'Dobby wanted to make sure Princess Harrietta would be safely away from Hogwarts.'

I looked at the creature before me, not knowing where I should be grateful or not.

'Why do you wear that thing, Dobby?' I asked suddenly, looking at the filthy pillowcase he wore.

'This, Princess?' said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. ''Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, Princess. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, Princess, for then he would be free to leave their house forever. None of them, except the young master, cares about Dobby, though the young master can only be nice to Dobby is private so young master's parents do not see.'

'Princess Harrietta must go home!' he urged suddenly. 'Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make –'

'Your Bludger?' I questioned sharply, my temper rising. 'You made that Bludger try and kill me?'

'Not kill you, Princess, never kill you!' said Dobby, shocked. 'Dobby wants to save Princess Harrietta's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, Princess! Dobby only wanted Princess Harrietta hurt enough to be sent home!'

'Oh, is that all?' I said sarcastically. 'I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?'

'Ah, if only Princess Harrietta only knew!' Dobby groaned, tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. 'If only she knew what she means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, Princess! We house-elves were treated like vermin, Princess! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, Princess.'

In the distance, we heard a noise which told us that someone was out and about.

'Listen, Princess, terrible things are to happen here at Hogwarts,' Dobby informed me urgently. 'Dobby cannot let Princess Harrietta stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more.'

'The Chamber has been open before!' I exclaimed. Why didn't Grandfather tell me, or Grandmother and Uncle Severus? Surely they knew.

Dobby froze, horror struck that he had just told me something he shouldn't have. He grabbed my water jug from my bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, 'Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby…'

'Are you alright?' I asked, looking very concerned.

The house-elf nodded.

'So if the Chamber is real, I don't understand how I am in danger. I'm not a Squib or Muggle-born.'

'Dark deeds are planned in this place,' said Dobby, not answering my question, 'but Princess Harrietta must not be here when they happen - go home, Princess Harrietta, go home.'

He then disappeared.

I sat there in the dark for a while, not knowing what to do, when I heard footsteps coming down the passageway outside. I slumped back into bed, my eyes on the dark doorway to the Hospital Wing as the footsteps drew nearer.

Next moment, Grandfather was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Grandmother appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.

'Get Poppy,' Grandfather whispered.

Grandmother did as he asked and moments later I heard urgent voices. Grandmother then swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. I heard a sharp intake of breath.

'What happened?' Madam Pomfrey whispered to Grandfather, bending over the statue on the bed.

'Another attack,' Grandfather replied grimly. 'Minerva found him on the stairs.'

'There was a bunch of grapes next to him,' said Grandmother. 'We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Harri.'

My stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, I raised myself a few inches so I could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.

It was Colin. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.

'Petrified?' Madam Pomfrey whispered.

'Yes,' said Grandmother.

The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Grandfather leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip.

'You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" Grandmother enquired eagerly.

Grandfather didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera, which let out a jet of steam. Harry, three beds away,

'What does this mean, Albus?' Grandmother asked urgently.

'It means that the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again,' he said gravely.

Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Grandmother stared at her husband.

'But, Albus... surely... who?'

'I think we both know the answer to that question,' Grandfather replied quietly.

'But how is that possible?'

'I don't know.'

I saw Grandmother glance over at my bed and begin to walk towards me. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep wondering what my grandparents had meant.


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Written: 6 November 2012
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DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER THE ORIGINAL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL IN THIS STORY. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANDUB CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS. NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED, FAIR USE ONLY. I DO, HOWEVER, CLAIM SOME COPYRIGHT OVER HARRI SINCE SHE IS HALF BASED ON MY ORIGINAL VALKYRIE CHARACTER, PRINCESS HARRIETTA.