Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 29

An Unexpected Development

by Technomad

When Harry got out of the hospital wing, he found his Housemates in a mood for vengeance. At least the males; except for Luna, who resolutely went her own way and thought for herself, the girls continued to believe in Lockhart's innocence and goodwill.

"Harry," Hermione said, in tones appropriate to speaking to someone who wasn't quite bright, "you can't blame Professor Lockhart! I agree, trying to shoot down the Bludger was not the smartest move he could have made, but he didn't intend to shoot you down instead!"

"Doesn't change the fact that he did!" Harry grumbled. He was still aching in several different places from hitting the ground so hard, and in no mood to forgive the posturing Professor.

With his injuries as an incentive, Harry threw himself into the "Discredit Lockhart" operation twice as hard as before. One side effect, he noted with amusement, was that the Slytherin boys' grades in Lockhart's class soared; with their careful, intensive study of the man's works, they were able to anticipate his questions and answer them effortlessly. The jealous looks the girls, and their schoolmates of other Houses, gave them were mere sweeteners.

Meanwhile, the duelling teams were forming up. Flitwick turned out to be an enthusiastic teacher, and his team had the additional benefit of help from Snape. The Potions Master proved to be a skilled, if snarky, combatant. Under their tutelage, Harry's team began to learn very rapidly.

Of course, they kept what they were doing on the QT. In Lockhart's class, Harry and his teammates were careful to appear to be in awe of their famous teacher. Harry even accepted Lockhart's apologies for the "dreadful accident" graciously, while inwardly thinking about how much fun it would be to introduce the ponce to some people he knew back home. Fantasies of watching Lockhart deal with Roanapur, which was not a good town to brag in unless one could back it up, gave him a warm cozy feeling down deep inside.

In the room they'd set aside for themselves, the Duelling Association, as they called themselves, were talking about the things they'd noticed. "You know," offered Pucey, "I'd think that if Lockhart really knows how to force werewolves back to human form, he'd more than deserve his fame. There are quite a few wizards and witches who're forced into poverty and ignominy because they're werewolves. A counter-measure against that would be very useful to Aurors, wouldn't it?"

"Not to mention Healers," said Luna, snugly ensconced under Dudley's protective arm.

"You've got a good point there, little Luna," said Draco. Dudley reached down and beeped her nose, and she giggled. Luna plainly enjoyed being the only girl in a roomful of boys.

One day, Harry, Dudley, Ron, Draco and Luna were all studying together in the Great Hall when they were interrupted. Hermione Granger sat down without waiting for an invitation. "Hullo, you all. Do you mind if I talk with you for a while?" She looked rather uncertain, and Harry remembered guiltily that their common project had given him less time to spend with his friend.

"We've always got time for you, Hermione," Ron reassured her, with a smile. "Just because we're on different teams doesn't mean we can't be friends otherwise. In Quidditch, people from different teams are often good friends, even if only because most teams swap players around a lot and the person you're playing against today may be your teammate down the line."

"Good." With that out of the way, Hermione leaned forward. "I'm really glad to see all of you studying so hard, but have you noticed that Pansy Parkinson is acting awfully weird lately?"

Harry thought about it. Pansy Parkinson was one of his less-favorite Slytherins; she was snobbish, rude to anybody she thought was beneath her, and chased after Draco so hard that it embarrassed the others to watch her. Hermione, Ginny and Luna all said that life in the girls' dorms was less enjoyable because of her presence; she gossiped, tried to turn friends against each other, spread nasty rumours, and generally made herself as much of a misery as possible.

"No, we haven't noticed anything unusual about her, but we don't live in as close contact with her as you do. What is she doing? Being pleasant?" Hermione giggled.

"I wouldn't complain about that! No, she spends a lot of time scribbling in this battered diary she got from somewhere, and snaps at us if we get close to it!"

The boys were all puzzled. "Uh, Hermione, it could be that she just wants to keep whatever she's writing about private," Ron offered. "I don't keep a diary myself, but if I did, I'd be pretty unhappy if someone else made like they wanted to read it without my permission."

"It isn't just that! Although I should point out that Pansy isn't exactly a 'diary person,' if you know what I mean…she's not the introspective type, not at all. She didn't keep a diary our first year here. And she's also become awfully withdrawn. Before, she was into everything, sniffing into everybody's business. She was one of the biggest snoops in Hogwarts! These days, instead of jumping on every bit of interesting gossip there is and spreading it to all and sundry, she acts like she couldn't care less!"

"Maybe she's developing better manners, Hermione," Dudley said.

Hermione gave her male friends an exasperated glare. "Oh, never mind!" she snapped. She got up, all outraged dignity. "I have a duelling practice to go to…with Professor Lockhart!" She went toward the door, then turned and smiled a smile that reminded Harry, unpleasantly, of Pansy herself. "Wait till the first tournament! I'm looking forward to wiping the floor with all of you!" The door could not slam, but it did shut behind her very firmly.

The boys, and Luna, looked at each other. After a minute, Luna spoke up. "She does have a point. Pansy's been acting strangely lately."

"She hasn't been all but throwing herself at me," Draco mused. "And that's odd. I mean, last year she was all but wrapping herself in gift-wrap paper."

"Maybe we should keep an eye on her," Luna said. "She's not my favorite person in the world, but I'd feel awful if something was wrong and we didn't notice it in time."

All the boys nodded. Pansy Parkinson would bear watching.

Meanwhile, school went on. Lockhart was looking steadily less assured, since some of the older students, the Ravenclaws in particular, had taken to asking him innocent questions about his exploits. Harry suspected Flitwick as the instigator of this; the diminutive Charms professor had a sneaky streak that appealed to the Slytherin in Harry.

Other teachers found themselves fielding questions about the spells and other things Lockhart had said he'd used. Sometimes, this led to very interesting discussions of spells that were normally not covered, or covered only in a general way, in the normal curriculum.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Mr. Finnegan, potions do have a definite place in a defensive and offensive arsenal. I'm glad you asked that question. Just for starters, any competent combat wizard should be able to brew Healing Potions from scratch, since in the field, they are often needed. We will be covering Healing Potions in greater detail later, but for the present…"

"Yes, dear," smiled Professor Sprout, "plants have many offensive and defensive uses. Mandrakes, for example, can easily be turned against an enemy. Their screams are fatal to unprotected hearers. Of course, the persons using them in this way had best make sure their earmuffs are in place!"

On Halloween, the school was en fete for the big holiday. Decorations were everywhere, and the smell of a wonderful feast drifted through the corridors. Harry was just coming out of the Slytherin dorms when he stiffened.

"Let me out…let me tear…rip, slaughter, destroy…" He held up his hand, and his friends stopped.

"Did you hear that?" Harry tensed, his wand in his hand. Dudley instinctively pulled his wand; years of Roanapur street experience made it an automatic gesture.

"Hear what, mate?" Ron asked, puzzlement in his voice.

"A voice…a voice talking about tearing things up." Harry shivered. Something in the voice had reminded him of times he'd seen Revy Two-Hands in a real rage. Normally, even in a hot gunfight, she seemed to be in good spirits, but there had been a few times when she was really furious. It was times like that that made her someone nobody in Roanapur crossed lightly.

"Listen, cousin," Dudley said, putting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, "hearing voices that nobody else hears isn't a good sign. If this keeps up, I'd go see Madame Pomfrey if I was you."

"And if you don't…we'll take you there." That was Draco. He was jealous of Harry's fame, but Slytherin solidarity was very strong. Harry looked at the blond pureblood, trying to fathom his mental processes. On the one hand, he detested Hermione Granger's know-it-all ways, but on the other hand, he defended her fiercely when non-Slytherins said anything against her.

"Thanks, you lot. I feel just fine. Probably just my imagination. Come on…we don't want to be late for class! And after classes…"

"We feast!" Laughing, the boys ran up the corridor, full of animal spirits and the joy of being alive, young and magical.

Sure enough, the feast was everything Harry had anticipated. Huge pumpkins, much larger than any others Harry or the other non-magically-raised kids had ever seen, had been carved into jack o'lanterns; Harry smiled at the way the firsties would squeal when a jack o'lantern would suddenly snap at them or wink its carved eye. Magic had possibilities for all sorts of fun. He pictured himself doing something like that in Roanapur, and watching people's eyes bug out.

The Slytherin table was a jolly place to be; outside of their dorms and common room, the Slytherins' usual rule was to keep differences among themselves quiet. Hermione was sitting with her oldest Hogwarts friends, between Harry and Ron. Dudley had Luna on one side of him, blandly ignoring the grins this brought from some of their Housemates. Insofar as they could be, what with living in different dorms and being in different years, Dudley and Luna were all but inseparable. Luna loved hearing about Dudley's time in Asia, and Dudley loved telling stories.

The food was everything Harry had hoped for; the house-elves had done a superlatively good job on it. Beside him, Hermione visibly battled with the temptation to load herself up with as much as she could stomach; the girls in general had gone on a diet-and-exercise craze since Lockhart's arrival in the school, and she was no different.

"If you eat this stuff, Hermione, you'll soon be as fat as a rail!" Harry teased her. Hermione turned an interesting shade of pink. Not far away, Luna was tucking in with a hearty appetite. She'd been working on some strenuous charms, and the body demanded a lot of fuel for magic anyway; that was one side of magic that fantasy novels generally didn't bother to explain or go into.

Up at the staff table, Professor Dumbledore stood up, and quiet descended. Harry had learned to listen carefully to what the Headmaster said. His "dotty old coot" act was well-honed, but Harry could sense a mind of steel-trap ruthlessness behind it.

"Now that I have your undivided attention, despite this marvelous meal," Dumbledore began, "I would like to announce that Professors Flitwick and Lockhart will be holding the first Hogwarts Duelling Tournament in one week. It will involve freestyle dueling, non-lethal spells only, and be refereed by our own Professor Snape."

This brought applause from all the tables. Lockhart's proteges grinned at their Housemates, imagining the triumphs they would soon be savoring.

"I hope you boys like the taste of crow," Hermione purred. "However, I'll be magnanimous in victory." She and the other girls giggled. Harry thought that at least one good effect of Lockhart's silliness had been to draw Hermione closer to her dorm-mates. From what he could see, Hermione and her roomies were on better terms than they'd ever been. Then he looked around down the table. One face he'd expected to see wasn't there.

"Hermione, where's Pansy?"

Hermione raised a thick dark eyebrow. "She was here just now. She must have nipped off to the loo." Harry shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating. Parkinson's doings were no concern of his.

When the feast came to an end, Harry strolled along with his mates, replete, contented and at peace with the world. Then there was an ungodly shriek from the corridor up ahead of them.

Wands out, they pelted down the corridor, to find themselves confronted by Argus Filch. He was pointing at a furry object hanging from the wall, above foot-high letters that spelled out:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE!

Harry and Dudley exchanged glances. "As if there wasn't already enough weird stuff going on around this place!" Dudley whispered. Harry nodded. Between crazy sports equipment, egomaniacal professors, House mates acting odd, and now this, he wondered if he'd have been better off looking into an Asian school.

END Chapter 29