Chapter 25: Writing's on the Wall

(Note: S/T denotes a stick tap for suggestion. It's a hockey term for recognizing something another does well.)

The next weeks flew by and soon, it was the end of October. Quidditch was ramping up toward the first game between Gryffindor and Slytherin. After watching a Slytherin practice session, Fred and George confirmed their fears.

"Malfoy wasn't lying," George said. "They're FAST."

Wood responded by working the team harder until Harry could barely stand. One afternoon after a brutal training session, Harry was trudging along the corridor when he heard his name shouted. Harry turned so abruptly, he didn't recognize the presence of Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris. She yowled in pain and scrambled away. That was when Harry noticed Cedric Diggory coming up to him.

"Potter!" He smiled jovially. Harry, tired as he was, tried to respond in kind. "Good training session?"

"Oh the best," Harry rolled his eyes. "What can I do for you, Diggory?"

"You're playing Slytherin, right?" Cedric asked to which Harry nodded. "I was watching them the other day and I noticed something: their brooms are fast… but they're not."

"Yes their brooms are fast but they don't know to deal with the speed. They can fly fast but they can't handle the Quaffle at those speeds. They also don't yet know how to work together," Cedric smiled devilishly. "If you are smart you can disrupt their offensive plays with well-placed Bludgers and perfect timing from your Chasers. You can't outfly them but you could outplay them if you're sharper in your passing and defense."

"Why are you saying this?" Harry gave Cedric a leery look. "Wouldn't you rather hold on to this until you play them?"

"Oh no," Cedric smiled bigger. "We have a rematch coming up and I'd rather not have Slytherin get in the middle of the race for the cup. Ravenclaw is too young and inexperienced to challenge us. If you guys can knock Slytherin down a peg, it'll be down to Gryff and Puff. You know: the teams with actual talent and not simply money."

Harry cottoned on and nodded to Diggory.

"Just don't expect me to take it easy on you, Diggory," Harry gave Diggory what Hermione was starting to call his Tom Cruise smile. "I'm still not over that loss last year."

"Watch your back, Potter. Oh and remember what I did to you last time we met. Slytherin's seeker is playing his first match, yes?"

Harry's smile went positively feral. Malfoy has no idea what's coming his way, he thought. He said goodbye to Cedric and moved to tell Wood what Diggory had said but was interrupted.

"Oi you!" Filch, the grumpy caretaker. Actually, grumpy was probably an understatement. It was like someone killed his sons, baked them into a pie and made him eat it. "Thought you'd kick my cat, would you? That'll be detention."

Next thing Harry knew he was dragged toward the caretakers office. Filch was muttering to himself about corporal punishment and the 'good old days' when a loud CRASH sounded the floor above.

"Punk kids!" Filch barked as he hobbled out to catch the culprits. While Harry sat in his office, he noticed Filch's Kwikspell flier, a program for Squibs to learn magic. Upon his return, Filch saw the flier had been moved. He threatened Harry within an inch of his life should he tell anyone, shuffling him from his office.

A hallway and a set of stairs later, Fred and George descended on Harry with raucous laughter.

"Well did it work?" they asked.

"Did what work?"

"We dropped one of the suits of armor, hoping to get Filch off your case," Fred said.

"Did it work, oh illustrious investor?" George added.

"Yes it worked," Harry couldn't help but smile. "Listen… do you know where Wood is?"

"Probably by the Pitch, formulating a strategy for the Slytherin team, I'd imagine," George answered. "Why?"

"Diggory just gave me a strategy for how we can beat them," Harry said, making their faces brighten.

"Oh good…" Fred said.

"Let's go find him," George finished as he seemed to be putting an old piece of parchment away.

A few days later, Gryffindor had solidified their strategy and Harry felt ready for their first match. In Hermione and his weekly sessions with Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall made an appearance.

McGonagall had them focusing on conjuration, something they had just touched upon in regular classes. She had them work on conjuring a table while the class was working on quills.

"This is no different that the quill, Mr. Potter," McGonagall watched as Harry struggled while Hermione was levitating her table across the room. "Picture the table, the weight, the wood, the thickness.

Harry closed his eyes and pictured the table he and Hermione would use in the library, remembering its feel, the way the wood smelled. He waved his wand, muttered the incantation and the table appeared.

"Excellent Mr, Potter," McGonagall complimented, feeling the wood of the table. "This is perfect work."

"Now," Flitwick stepped up. "We will be focusing more on dueling. Specifically, you will be dueling me."

Harry traded worried glances with Hermione.

"You're getting too good at dueling one another," Flitwick explained. "You're too used to what the other will do. It is time to change that and get used to working as a team. Remember that Voldemort prefers single combat to teamwork. I vividly remember James and Lily giving him problems because of this."

Since Harry had told Flitwick the prophecy, he had become slightly merciless in their sessions.

"If you can get me to move," Flitwick smiled. "I will consider this a success. Remember to use your environment, whether offense or defense, that is up to you."

Harry didn't get a chance to breathe as Flitwick unleashed a flurry of spells. 30 seconds later, he was holding both their wands.

"Not bad for a first try," he handed them their wands back. "Again."

Back and forth they went, their wands always landing within his hand.

"Again," he would always order and they would duel again.**

Finally, Harry had enough. He stepped closer to Hermione and gave her a look. A simple nod and she understood. Flitwick unleashed another torrent of spells. Hermione cast a shield to protect them, the spells impacting the shield, creating cracks within. A few spells started to slip through which Harry deflected into the table he conjured.

Getting an idea, he turned his wand toward the table.

"Accio!" Harry shouted as the desk flew into the path of one of Flitwick's spells, shattering it into splinters. Hermione levitated the splinters in front of them and dropped her shield.

"Depulso," Harry shouted again, sending the debris speeding toward the diminutive professor who yelped and jumped out the way.

"Expelliarmus," Hermione cast and caught Flitwick's wand in her hand. Harry smiled at Hermione and raised his hand. With satisfying smack, they high-fived. Applause from behind them caught them off guard. Standing at the back of the room, stood McGonagall, whom they had forgotten was observing, to their surprise, so was Dumbledore.

"Well done you two!" Flitwick dusted himself off. "I did not know you knew fourth year spells. How long have you known how to summon?"

"Figured it out last week," Hermione said proudly. "We wanted to surprise you, though not necessarily this way."

"Excellent work, you two," Dumbledore walked up. "I was initially worried when I walked by. I haven't heard Filius cast this fiercely in decades. Minerva was correct, you two are a force when you team up."

"Yes you are," Flitwick said. Ever the demanding teacher, he continued on to what they can improve upon. "Yet you need to learn not to rely upon each other all the time. If I can separate the two of you, it is much easier to duel you. Mr. Potter, you need to keep working on your defensive spells. Your deflecting is well-timed but you still drop your shield when you cast offensive spells, which you don't need to do.

"Miss Granger, your defense is incredible. Specifically your shield is immensely strong," Flitwick looked as the young girl. "Yet you forget the best strategy: movement. You allow your shield to do too much of the work. Always remember there are spells that can bypass shields and an overpowered spell can shatter them.

"This will do for the evening," Flitwick said. "Have a good night and keep working. Excellent work on learning more and more spells, you two. I am very, very impressed."

"Indeed," McGonagall entered the conversation. "Remember that you can transfigure objects on the battlefield."

She waived her wand and Hermione's table turned to splinters. Another wave and splinters became spikes. Harry gulped at the idea of those spikes being shot toward him.

"That is Battlefield Transfiguration," she explained. "It can be used offensively, as you can see, or defensively to conjure something to block spells. Professor Flitwick informed me of your progress and I thought it was time I started to help on occasion. Yes, Mr. Potter? You can just ask your question, you don't need your hand up."

"I picked up a book on Transfiguration and it mentioned that you can combine transfigurations," Harry asked her. "Would it be possible to conjure a hammer that is stone or steel at the head and wood for the handle?"

"Yes it is possible," McGonagall answered. "Though you need to be very deliberative in HOW your item is constructed. It takes a lot of focus because you need to picture how they come together. I would advise practicing on each item individually before getting them to conjure together."

"But if you can do that," Harry was more talking aloud than asking at this point. "You could conjure yourself a weapon."

"A weapon yes but the best weapon would still be your mind," McGonagall said. "Your only limit is your imagination."

"Oh that's interesting," Harry said as possibilities flashed within his mind.

"Just remember to keep in mind the core concepts of Transfiguration and that all magic comes at a cost. Don't overexert yourself trying to conjure an object."

Dumbledore glanced from one to the other, fascinated by the conversation.

"Excellent question, Harry," he smiled at the young boy. "I haven't been this engaged with a student's Transfiguration question in years."

Deep in thought, Harry and Hermione stumbled back to the common room, both a little exhausted. It was a good thing Hermione continued to hammer home the idea of doing their homework early and studying ahead, unlike other of their fellow yearmates.

"Hey Hermione," Ron's voice rang across the common room as they entered. Hermione looked over as Ron ran up to them. "Have you done that essay for McGonagall, yet? The one that's due tomorrow?"

"We finished it the day she assigned it," Hermione answered groggily.

"Oh good! You can help me with it!" Ron pulled her over to where Dean and Seamus were studying. Neville, Parvati and Lavender leaned their heads together, interested to see how this would play out.

"What do you need help with?" Hermione asked, tiredly.

"Well, writing it of course!" Ron said, not noticing the facepalm from Neville, who passed a galleon to Lavender ("Told you" she whispered with a smile.) Hermione looked down to see empty parchment from Seamus and Ron. Dean at least had most of his essay written, though she could tell he needed some help flushing out his ideas.

"Exactly what do you mean writing it?" Hermione's voice took on a dangerous tone.

"You're the smartest one in the year Miss Know-It-All," the oblivious Weasley said. "I've seen the marks Potter gets. I figured you must be the source, smart as you are."

"For your information," Hermione said. "Harry writes his own essays. Yes we work on them together and exchange ideas but the only thing I do is look over his essay for spelling which is honestly terrible- sorry Harry, you know it's true."

Harry smiled and nodded.

"But Harry actually helps ME! His ideas are actually quite brilliant and it improves the quality of my work. Don't believe me? Ask Neville," Hermione lectured the redhead while Neville nodded to Ron's unasked question.

"So to answer your question: no I will not be writing your essay for you," Hermione crossed her arms as she spoke. "If you want me to read over what you have done, I will help with that but I am not help you by doing it for you."

"Why not!?" Ron was incredulous. "You're the smartest student in the school; it'd be no big deal for you."

"If I did that," Hermione's patience was officially being tested. "You would not learn and then what would you do when O.W.L.s roll around?"

"That's three years away!" Ron was fuming, oblivious to the fact the common room was silent and focused on him.

"O.W.L.s test all your knowledge," Harry said, finally entering the conversation. "Everything from first year on. You can't expect to cram five years of studying into the last month of fifth year and expect to do well, can you?"

Ron sputtered, unintentionally confirming that was exactly what he was planning to do.

"If you need help," Harry continued. "Your other housemates are glad to offer it but you have to put in the effort first."

Harry gestured toward the blank parchment.

"But asking for help with nothing but a blank parchment the day before the essay is done will not cut it," Harry confirmed this with Hermione with a glance. "Are we understood?"

"But that essay will take all night!?" Panic set into Ron's voice.

"Then you best get started," Hermione said with finality. Leaving a pouting Ron behind, they turned, startled to see the common room all looking at them. Blushing a little at the attention, Hermione and Harry sat down with Neville, Parvati and Lavender as they started to revise for tomorrow's classes.

"What was the galleon for?" Harry asked.

"Neville bet that Ron would only ask for a help to start," Lavender smile victoriously. "I thought he'd ask her to do it for him."

"That's a sucker bet," Harry looked at his friend. "Why did you make it?"

"Call me an optimist," Neville gave a sheepish smile.

"Oh Neville," Parvati leaned in to tease him. "Never change."

"Really?"

"Really," Lavender added flipping the coin through her fingers. "It's quite profitable."

Neville couldn't hold a straight face at that and the five of them laughed as one.

The next day was the weekly meeting of the D.A. wherein Hermione was watching Harry teach the collected first years, helping them to learn how to move. He had them form up and play a form of dodgeball where they had to avoid stinging hexes for as long as they could.

Due to her size and unpredictable nature, Luna won every time except one when Colin Creevey used her as a human shield to avoid being hit.

"Excellent move, Colin," she said serenely. "I'll have to remember that for next round."

Though there was no malice in her voice, Colin gulped audibly. Hermione giggled as the next round started with Luna casting moblicorpus and guiding Colin into the path of a stinger to be the first eliminated. Hermione just laughed and admired how Harry worked within the group. Not only is he a natural leader, she mused he's also quite the teacher.

Harry took the opportunity break off from the first years to watch the second year students work. With glee, he watched Vinny and Greg duel one another. Out of the shadow of Malfoy, they had come into their own. Goyle was a powerful caster, second only to Harry while Crabbe was surprisingly nimble and crafty.

Smiling, Harry watched the other gathered students, fascinated to see how they brought their house traits to Geneva. Slytherins like to build alliances and relationships. Often, he heard different snippets of business deals being discussed. Hufflepuffs loved the idea of making more friends and friends across house boundaries and Gryffindors loved showing their courage in forging new relationships. Ravenclaws were the last ones to come around but at the promise of more knowledge, specifically the second years learning from Harry and Hermione, was all it took to lure them.

"Potter!" Cedric ran up. "You've ducked me long enough. It's time to see what you can do!"

Despite being two years his senior, Diggory loved to challenge Harry whenever possible, further stoking the fires of their friendly rivalry.

"Ah good!" Everyone present groaned audibly as Lockhart made his presence known. Mostly, the teachers steered clear of Geneva, preferring to let the prefects keep the peace. Harry heard McGonagall groan from the corner. "I see you're trying to channel your fellow dueling champion."

Lockhart rushed toward where Harry and Cedric stood, tripping over a bench to land on his face. His wand flew out of his hand and fell hard, hitting a bench before bouncing on the ground, leading to general laughter from the assembled students.

"En garde, Potter!" Lockhart picked himself up and snatched his wand flourish like a fencing foil. "Let's see how the Boy-Who-Lived does against an Order of Merlin, First Class."

Harry rolled his eyes before looking at McGonagall. She just shrugged, allowing Harry to step up and bow to his opponent.

"Oh you've been trained to duel!" Lockhart sounded too happy. "Well I'll go first!"

Once again, he flourished his wand and a bunch of colorful spells shot out, none of them toward Harry. In a wave of panic, the spells started to head toward the audience, causing Harry, Hermione, Cedric and the other upper years to shield the others.

Harry's annoyance turned serious. He didn't recognize every spell but to have that level of inaccuracy was dangerous. He stepped up and disarmed Lockhart fiercely enough to send him arse-over-teakettle. Harry looked around to ensure nobody was hurt.

"Jolly good!" Lockhart was completely unperturbed. "I see you have skills. Though it was obvious what you were doing, I thought it would be a good thing to show the other students. Well you have this in hand, I'll leave you all while you can still stand."

Incredulously, every student watched the incompetent fool strut away. With his appearance, Lockhart had ruined all the work that was being done, to the general dismay of everyone assembled. As they watched him go, a decision was made: Hogwarts officially declared war on Lockhart.

From there on out, it was a race to see who could do what to Lockhart. The twins' friend Lee Jordan was the first to strike, conjuring a whoopee cushion under his chair at breakfast. After that, Fred charmed his shoes to squeak with every step. That was until George one-upped him by making the shoes swear. (S/T LadyPhoenix68)

The shoes screamed obscenities as Lockhart ran from the Great Hall. Thus far, that was the only prank McGonagall admonished, just because of the language in front of the younger years.

Greg and Vinny, much to the surprise of Harry, got in on that act by sticking Lockhart's desk to ceiling.

"Family spell," Crabbe said. "It'll stay that way for 12 hours."

"I hope he's not under it when it falls," Hermione said. "He could get seriously hurt."

"Oh don't worry," Goyle smiled widely. "When it does, it'll break open like a piñata."

"How do you know what a piñata is?" Harry asked.

"My mum actually made one for me for one of my birthdays," Greg said. "Apparently, there was an issue a while back with some wizards selling muggles piñatas that would explode. It made quite the impression on her."

"It was a lot of fun, that is for sure," Vinny reflected fondly on the memory. "She didn't get an exploding one, by the way."

Peeves even got in on the act, following Lockhart around to mimic the idiot every time he spoke. To this day, Lockhart never knew why the students were laughing at his stories; he just assumed they found them incredibly amusing.

Then some of the upper years got in on the color changing. First, Lockhart found his robes had been turned Neon Pink with Lime Green accents. Then, three students tried to get Lockhart's hair to change colors. Neither knew what the other had done so Lockhart spent the rest of the day with hair that was blue, red and green all at once, clashing hilariously with the pink robes.

"Oh if only I could set it right," Professor Flitwick joked. "There must be a color changing charm somewhere, I'm sure. Would you know a potion to help, Severus?"

"No idea," Snape said. It seemed that even he was mildly amused at Lockhart's plight.

"Oh I'm sure it'll wear off," Flitwick said. It would wear off… but since it was put into Lockhart's shampoo, conditioner and styling gel, Lockhart was re-coloring his hair daily.

The only time Lockhart didn't have crazy-colored hair was when he had none at all. Luna slipped him a potion, one of the twins' inventions, to make him go so bald, Harry was surprised he wasn't ordering "tea, Earl Grey, hot" at every chance. (S/T Rick1952)

A group of girls charmed him with a revulsion hex to make his visage entirely undesirable to look at. Adding to that someone, nobody claimed credit, had charmed the mirrors in his classroom and office into funhouse mirrors, shifting to a different mirror formation every day. Even Ravenclaws, known to be the most reserved when it came to pranks, got in on it. A few of the upper years got together and created a ward scheme which would prevent him from entering Geneva again. If he tried, which he often did, he was thrown bodily from the room.

The campaign of anarchy against Professor Gilderoy Lockhart was documented thoroughly by one Hermione Granger and sent to the writers of Hogwarts: A History for inclusion in their next edition.

All in all, the school was alight with humor and laugher, all thanks to the incompetence of one Gilderoy Lockhart. That was, however, until Halloween.

Walking toward the Great Hall from their last session with Professor Flitwick, Harry heard a voice.

"Hungry for so long… Need to hunt… Need to KILL!"

Harry froze on the spot, causing Hermione to stop beside him.

"What is it?" She asked, spotting the abject fear on his face.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what"

"That voice… it said they're hunting! They're going to kill someone! Come on!"

Harry was off like a shot, casting the shield onto his arm, charging forward with his wand drawn.

"Harry wait! We don't even…" she stopped short as Harry came to an abrupt stop. On the floor was a puddle of water. Above, hanging from one of the lanterns in the hallway was the still form of Mrs. Norris, her neck cut open. On the wall, written in Mrs. Norris' blood was a message

The Chamber of Secrets has been opened

Enemies of the Heir Beware!

The Opening of my Secret Lair!

"Harry," Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall. "We don't want to be caught here."

Exerting as much force as she could, she yanked him down the hall and pushed him into an empty classroom as they heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Mudbloods and blood traitors beware!" Harry groaned when he heard Draco's voice. "She won't be the last!"

"Shove off Malfoy!" Susan's voice cut in.

Now that the students appeared, Harry and Hermione stepped out of the classroom and joined the growing throng.

"Shut your fat mouth, Bones!" Malfoy spat. "Your aunt might be DMLE but that won't protect you from the Heir of Slytherin."

Next thing Harry knew, Colin was there, snapping some photos of the scene while the Professors Snape, Dumledore and McGonagall approached. Dumbledore stepped forward.

"Somebody fetch Mr. Filch, would you?" Dumbledore asked and moments later Filch appeared.

"My cat!" The man looked distraught and looked around at the gathered crowd. Spotting Harry, he pointed. "You! You killed my cat!"

Harry's eyes widened as the group turned to look at him. He looked around at the teachers, from McGonagall to Dumbledore to Snape. When his eyes landed on Snape, he felt some pressure on his forehead. Harry gathered a little magic and pushed the feeling out, not noticing Snape stumble back as he did. McGonagall glared at the Potions Master as Dumbledore stepped forward.

"Do you know anything about this, Harry?" Dumbledore asked and Harry felt the pressure return, though not as suffocating. Still he marshalled enough energy to push that one back.

"No sir," Harry lied. "We just discovered her, like everyone else."

"Clearly he's lying," Filch gesticulated wildly. "Always around this castle, isn't he?"

"Well he's a student, Argus," McGonagall rolled her eyes. "They do tend to do that."

"Few weeks ago, he kicked my cat!"

"On accident!" Harry's panicked voice tried to come to his defense.

"A likely story. Then he discovered my Kwikspell pamphlet. He… he knows I'm a squib!"

"Mr. Filch," Hermione spoke up. "I was with Harry all day today, we just came from Professor Flitwick's in fact. If Harry was behind this, he would have attacked me too!"

"That is enough, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "If anyone (he looked specifically at Harry) hears or sees anything unusual, please alert a professor immediately. In the meantime, I suggest we make our way down to the feast at last."

What followed was a subdued feast, one where Harry hardly ate. Only when Hermione basically force-fed him did he actually partake in the feast. What was with the voice? Did Hermione hear it at all? Could he have stopped it? What could do this? Harry's mind whirred and spun with the questions for which he had no answer.

Later that night, in the common room, Hermione sat next to him on their usual love seat.

"Are you doing okay?" She asked, concern in her eyes.

"Yeah…" Harry tried to relax. "Yeah I am doing fine."

"Good," Hermione said before she started to smack him with the book she was holding. Harry threw his hands up to protect himself as she punctuated every smack with a word.

"Why. Did. You. Run. Blindly. Into. Danger!?" She tried to yell at him while keeping the noise to a minimum. "You could have been killed as well! We didn't know what we were facing!"

"I heard a voice saying they were going to kill," Harry said. "I couldn't stand by and watch someone get killed."

"But you charged ahead without a plan or any investigation!" Hermione wasn't letting Harry off easy. "Flitwick has told us time and again to assess a situation instead of running in blindly!"

"I'm sorry," Harry hung his head. "I just wish there was something I could do."

"You will figure it out, I'm sure," Hermione said. "You always do."

"We'll figure it out," Harry said. "I'm nothing without you."

"Don't put yourself down like that, Harry," Hermione admonished his deprecation. "You're plenty smart, talented and insightful on your own. Just stop recklessly running into dangerous situations without thinking, okay?"

"Do you think I should tell anyone about the voice I heard?" Harry asked.

"I was wondering that myself," Hermione looked deep in thought. "I think we should go see Professor McGonagall tomorrow. She is your magical guardian now; it would make the most sense to tell her."

"She was the first person I thought of," Harry said. "I also thought we should talk to Susan and see if we could send a note to Amelia Bones. Colin took a photo of the scene. We could have him develop it and send it to her. Someone killed a cat and left that message.

"Does Hogwarts: A History have anything to say about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Not that I remember," Hermione was deep in thought. "That's another thing we should ask Professor McGonagall."

"Agree," Harry yawned. "Thank you for knocking some sense into me. Last year the Stone, this year the Chamber. What's coming next year? An escaped convict out for blood?"

"One thing at a time. Let's get through this year first."

Hermione gave Harry an extra long hug and bade him good night. That night, as he lay in bed, Harry thought of the Chamber and the threat it posed to Hermione. I won't let you get hurt, he thought. I promise.

At that, he rolled over and went to sleep.

(A/N: Thank you again for all the suggestions for pranks. There's a few that didn't make it in but might appear in future chapters.

*Yes that is a Game of Thrones reference since the same guy who played Filch also played Walder Frey

**Again. That's inspired by Miracle when Kurt Russell makes the team do the drill again and again.