I certainly have no rights to Harry Potter, but this won't stop me writing this story. However, you probably already know this. As it is my specialty, and as in my other big stories, this shows how things go if something went different right at the beginning. Please note that I'm not a fan of bashing and also don't expect the pairings to differ from canon. However, the path to them sertainly will be quite different. I also want to try and subvert certain plots and things that became common in the fandom over the years.
For now, the story will update every second Saturday, until I say otherwise.
I'll try to answer all my reviews, since I do like the feedback for improvement. So please tell me your thoughts on the story in reviews. I would appreciate it. Also, since I'm getting many guest reviews, please think about creating an account, since I can't reply to guest reviews.
This story now does have a TvTropes page. You can find the link in my bio. Feel free to visit and contribute to it.
Chapter 22: The Heir Rises
"You know, sometimes it feels like Wood is a sadist... making us train while it is cold and raining," Ginny grumbled.
"According to Fred and George, we've seen nothing, Gin. Just wait until he gets truly desperate," Ron told his sister. "Remember, he said we can't chose the weather we play in, so in his words it's 'good preparation'."
"Yeah... preparation," Ginny snorted.
Harry didn't want to intrude in this sibling discussion. It had been raining since the early morning, so Quidditch training had been kind of a chore. Thankfully, they had thought ahead and stored a change of clothes in the locker room. Thus, after a warm shower to throw off the cold feeling, they were at least not wet, cold and miserable. Still, the looks all of the girls on the team had given Wood made it clear he was walking on thin ice.
After all, the October this year was quite frigid, with many students suffering from colds. Ginny also had caught one, and it had taken Percy threatening to write their mother that Ginny was not seeking treatment for her sickness, that she had finally given in and let Madam Pomfrey give her some Pepper-up potion. She had then chased Colin, who had made a photo of all the steam emerging from underneath her red hair, which had made her look like she was on fire.
There were some other things for Harry to consider as well.
Lockhart for some reason seemed to have started stalking him in order to give him unwanted advice about being a celebrity. Harry was just glad he almost never walked the corridors alone, since that man's behavior was kind of creepy. Also, Malfoy and Parkinson were on the warpath ever since multiple photos of Malfoy belching slugs had appeared throughout the school. Harry was sure, that was Fred's and George's idea of some payback against Malfoy.
His train of thought was halted when they saw Sir Nicholas ahead, who was grumbling loudly while reading a spectral letter near a window. "...don't fulfill their requirements... half an inch, if that..."
"Hello, Nick! You don't sound very happy," Harry greeted the ghost, who always was eager to help out the Gryffindor students.
"Yes, and I have reason to be. You would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"
"Well, it's called headless..." Ron remarked, then saw that perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say.
"It's exactly that thinking which gets thrown into my face!" Nearly Headless Nick shook his letter open and read furiously: "Just listen! We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore."
"Sounds like you've been trying for quite some time to join them," Harry observed. "Why are you so riled up now, if this is a long-standing issue?"
Now Nick sighed. "This Halloween it will be my 500th deathday. I'm holding a party in one of the dungeons and many ghosts are invited. Sadly, member of the Headless Hunt have invited themselves and there is no way I can send them away without ruining my reputation."
"How rude of them to crash your party. They probably just want to rub it under your nose." Ron always had been a fan of direct words. "If there only could be a way to pay them back for that..."
"Hey, Nick, why don't come with us? Maybe Luna and Hermione have an idea how to help you? They often get good ideas," Ginny offered.
"Well, it can't hurt..." Nick admitted.
It took them only little time to get back to Gryffindor tower, where they found their friends lazying around in the common room. Luna and Neville were playing cards while Hermione was reading some kind of novel. Crookshanks in turn was lazying on a pillow near the fireplace, clearly enjoying the warmth. They did look up when they saw their friends approach with Nick in tow.
"Hello, Sir Nicholas. It's not often you enter the tower itself," Hermione remarked while putting down her book.
"Well, there is a reason for that, but perhaps your friends can explain faster," Sir Nicholas said.
And that they did. They quickly explained how they had found Nick and his troubles with the headless Hunt, as well as they having invited themselves to his deathday party. After the quick explanations were done, Neville frowned.
"Kind of rude of them to spoil your special day after telling you to stay out of their club," Neville said, finding it somewhat similar to the circles his grandmother was entertaining at times.
Luna meanwhile looked very thoughtful, then asked a question. "Sir Nicholas, how many headless ghosts are there?"
Nick snorted at the question. "More than I can count. After all, beheading had been the 'noble' form of execution for centuries. Not to speak of the unpleasantness in France 200 years ago."
"Then it is very strange that they hold so much on being headless, even though their status is nothing special at all with so many of them existing," Luna concluded, looking like she was in 'the zone'. "How many ghosts are like you?"
Now Nick honestly looked a bit confused. "As far as I know, I am the only one with such a condition."
"They are jealous of you." Luna's conclusion got her confused looks. Wondering for a moment, she saw it needed further explanation. "They are nothing special - there are countless headless ghosts - while Sir Nicholas on the other hand is unique. They can't stand the idea and thus torment him to make themselves feel better."
"Luna, have I ever told you at how good you are at reading people?" Neville asked, causing her to give him an interesting look... And was that a small blush?
Sir Nicholas also looked astonished at that observation. "I never thought of it like that..."
"Ha! You can rub that under their noses and let's see how smug they are then!" Ron said, feeling these other ghosts deserved it for hurting Nick's feelings.
Now Nick looked much happier. "You children have just saved the day! Perhaps you would be interested in attending my deathday party?"
That made Ron look a little funny. Seeing that, Harry quickly asked the obvious question, before Ron's lack of tact could strike. "Uhm, Nick? Why do ghosts even celebrate the day they died? It sounds kind of depressing."
"It would be to you, but for us it's like our birthday," Nick started to explain. "At first the idea was utterly foreign to me as well, but once I was longer dead than I had been alive, I kind of started to appreciate it."
"So, what exactly will your deathday party involve?" Hermione asked, being very curious what a deathday party was like.
Sir Nicholas now looked excited. "Oh, it's a lot like a birthday party. There will be guests, music, games and food..."
"Food?" Ron asked, pointing at the obvious problem.
"We don't actually eat it. We glide through it and..." Suddenly Nick realized something. "Oh my, for us to notice it has to be especially spoiled and rotten, so it would be inedible for you... Well, and perhaps the music also won't be to your liking, since we ghosts no longer have eardrums that can be hurt."
The six friends looked at each other, doing some silent communication, then Harry decided to give their answer to Nick. "Nick, thanks for the offer, but I don't think we would have much fun at that sort of celebration."
"I don't take any offense," Nick waved it off. "I should have known that an event specifically geared for the dead wouldn't be much fun for those who are alive. Just ask me at a later date how it went. I know for certain I will now enjoy it even more."
...two days later, Monday afternoon...
The day was rainy, nothing unusual for later October in the Highlands. The raindrops however didn't reach Neville, instead impacting harmlessly against the glass of the greenhouse in which he was being busy with his volunteer work. Professor Sprout, who worked nearby, certainly was not holding back with praise for his extra work.
"Again, I can't express how thankful I am. Not many students volunteer for the greenhouses and the dirty work that comes with it, " Professor Sprout told Neville.
Her heaping so much praise on him certainly felt a bit overwhelming for Neville. "Think nothing of it. I just like working with plants."
Other students would be shocked about the simple truth that their group of friends was not attached at the hip. No, each of them got their own interests and as often as they were together, they also just as often were doing their own thing. Neville had always been the most reserved of their little group - though that didn't mean he could be outgoing at times - and certainly valued quiet work.
"Well, that is for sure. I'm however surprised that Miss Lovegood is also showing some enthusiasm," Prof. Sprout remarked, looking to Luna, who was working a few meters away at re-planting what looked like a bonsai tree. "I didn't think she would volunteer as well."
Luna looked up when hearing her name. "I have nothing against plants, with exception of the Mandrakes. You however assured me we wouldn't go anywhere near them again."
That actually was an interesting reaction from Luna. Normally, the girl was not in the habit of showing a dislike of something or someone. However, after one more lesson with the now bigger Mandrakes last week, Luna no longer made any secret of the fact that she thoroughly disliked these plants and hoped to never see them again.
"Well, they are growing bigger. The more mature they get, the higher the year that tends for them. The seventh years have the honor of harvesting them at the end of the school year," Prof. Sprout explained.
Thank all goodness she is only planting Mandrakes this year, Neville thought at Luna's look of relief that she wouldn't have to see these unpleasant plants again. It was pretty obvious Luna would never like Mandrakes.
The teacher went to a different part of the greenhouse, leaving Neville and Luna to their work.
"You know, I didn't expect you to be interested in plants. I always thought you are more interested in the fauna," Neville asked Luna while they mixed fertilizer into the soil.
"I also do look at interesting plants when we go on trips to sight rare creatures," Luna explained, resisting the urge to scratch her itching nose while she was wearing gloves. "Your interest in them however certainly helped me to volunteer."
That made Neville stop for a moment. "You mean, you are here because I am here?"
"Yes. I really enjoy working together with you, so I took the opportunity." Luna said that all with a straight face. "Does that make you uncomfortable?"
"Eh... no. I just didn't expect..." Neville returned to his work before he could stumble over his words. Luna is weird... in a nice way.
Luna for her part was glad Neville was not looking. It had taken her surprisingly much effort to tell him all of that with a straight face.
o
The common room of Gryffindor tower was being well-visited, numerous students using it during their free time after lessons to engage in all kind of leisure activities. At one table sat Hermione and Ginny, both girls being busy with their game of chess. Considering that normally it was Ron who was seen playing against others, some commented that Hermione must have exchanged Weasleys.
"I wonder why you aren't playing against Ron? He after all is much better than me at this game," Ginny remarked while moving a pawn.
"And get flattened in no time? No thanks, I can only take so many losses against him in a given time. You are much more on my level, though I can't help but to see some of Ron's tactics in your game," Hermione told Ginny while thinking about her next move.
"Growing up in a household with four chess players it should be little wonder," Ginny remarked.
"Four?" Hermione asked.
"Dad is the one who actually taught us the game. Ron should be obvious. Bill is perhaps the second-strongest player in the family after Ron. Percy also is good - perhaps the only one at school who can pull a surprise on Ron," Ginny explained, while waiting for Hermione's move.
"And the rest of the family?" Hermione wondered.
"Mum is horrible at chess and no longer tries. Charlie early on thought more about brooms than of chess, so Dad gave up. Fred and George said chess is boring, which offended Dad quite a bit," Ginny explained. "Would you believe me that Ron is bemoaning that there are so few who could give him an actual challenge?"
"I believe it." Hermione then finally moved her bishop. "Thanks to chess I know Ron is far from being dumb, but sadly it doesn't make schoolwork easier on him."
"Ron is not book-smart. He has to put in an effort to learn from books and theory. He's much better at practical work. Remember his practical wand work or when he thought up the new tactics for the team. That's where he shines. He's more of a hands-on guy," Ginny observed.
Hermione thought about that while waiting for Ginny to make her next move. "There's something to that. I observed that once he does understand the correct wand movement, he's quite fast at getting good at it."
"You on the other hand thrive at learning from books and theoretical work, but everyone sees you are not nearly as good with things like practical experimentation or field work," Ginny observed further, before moving a rook to knock out one of Hermione's pawns.
"-sigh- Guess Ron and me are polar opposites in many things. At times I find it strange that we became friends," Hermione thought aloud while putting less attention to the gap in her defense.
"Being friends only with those that are like yourself would be really boring. Take me and Luna. We are as different as it can get, yet we get along great." Ginny then looked thoughtful. "Hm, could it be you see something in Ron that others don't?"
"Ginevra..." Hermione warned the other girl while making her move. "That is utterly ridiculous."
Ginny let slide the usage of her legal name, then made her move. "Well, if you think so... However it's a bad habit to get distracted during a game... Check."
Looking at the board, Hermione only now realized that Ginny's queen was threatening her king. "How...?" Hermione then saw that Crookshanks seemed to have watched their game and gave her an unimpressed look. "Oh, as if you can do better?"
Crookshanks left, deciding that his toy mouse would be more important for the time being.
o
The owlery held a schizophrenic place with the students. On one hand, it was a place they visited often, may it be to send off mail or just to see their beloved owls. On the other hand it also was a place they wished they could avoid if not for the owls residing there, due to the smell. After all, with several hundred owls residing there, even with the open construction the smell was intense - not to speak of the heaps of droppings. Even the elves had given up on keeping this place clean constantly.
"No, really! Percy uses a Bubble-Head Charm to shield himself from the smell," Ron told Harry while they walked up the stairs.
"Smart move from him. Only too bad it's too advanced for us right now," Harry sighed. After all, it was a fifth-year spell. While he loved to visit Hedwig, the smell he could have lived without.
Both of them had some letters to send to their families. After what happened last year, their families wanted them to stay in regular contact. Ron would also send Ginny's letter for the sake of convenience. Their owls certainly didn't mind the work, even seemed to take pride on it.
"See the good side. No way Lockhart will try to ambush you here," Ron reminded his friend.
"You had to remind me?" Harry groaned.
Gilderoy Lockhart was quickly becoming a massive headache for Harry, as the man seemed to have gotten the idea that associating with Harry would somehow raise his own prominence. Harry for his part always made a big show of avoiding him, and his friends helped with that. After all, Defense class with Lockhart already was a punishment in itself.
Finally reaching the top level with the owls, Ron barely avoided being pelted in the face by a feathery projectile. "Oh damn, Pig!"
The scops owl however didn't mind, flying around Ron with excited hooting, which clearly was annoying the other owls. Hedwig, who has approached with much more dignity, seemed to be embarrassed at this display, looking away from the hyperactive owl. Pig then finally landed on Ron's hand, eagerly waiting on what his master wanted him to do.
"All right, Pig. Get these two letters to my Mum. Oh, and no detours this time! Mum was rather cross that she had to remove that bubblegum from your feathers!" Ron instructed his owl while tying the letters to his legs.
Pig obviously didn't mind the scolding, still being happy that he had a job to do. Watching the small owl take off like a rocket through the big opening, Harry of course knew that while Ron was annoyed at his owl, his friend would never get rid of him. Harry also had grown good at gauging Hedwig's mood and knew what his owl was thinking about.
"Oh, don't get all snobbery about it, girl. Like people, every owl is different. Also, you don't have to live with him all year." Harry added the last part when seeing how Percy's owl Hermes sat with his back to them, so he wouldn't have to watch.
"Now, the usual letter home. You are up to it?" Harry asked his owl. Hedwig gave him a look that screamed 'why do you even ask?' before accepting the letter and flying out as well.
"Both our owl seem to have quite the personality," Ron remarked while they walked the stairs down. "Kind of reminds me of Hermione's cat."
"Remember, a pet always reflects on its owner..." Though Harry wondered how Hedwig reflected on his personality. Perhaps he didn't want to know.
...October 31st...
It was time for the Halloween feast and practically all students were walking towards the great hall in great anticipation. Some with even more anticipation than others of course. The various carved and illuminated pumpkins in the castle, harvested from Hagrid's pumpkin patch, certainly helped the atmosphere a lot.
"I've heard Halloween at Hogwarts is something entirely else," Colin said in excitement while walking past Harry.
"Oh yes... you could say that." Harry honestly didn't want to tell the boy about the troll incident.
"Something entirely else?" Neville grimaced when remembering their first Halloween at Hogwarts. "Perhaps, but no way I ever want to experience that again!"
"I don't think there are anymore trolls in the castle, so this year we should just be able to enjoy the festivities," Hermione said with optimism, although she herself held the previous Halloween in bad memory.
For Harry, things were even more complicated. He already had been conflicted about this day even before coming to Hogwarts, due to it being the date when his parents got murdered by Voldemort.. The previous year only gave the day additional baggage for Harry, so he prayed that this year nothing would happen to ruin this day further for him.
Further conversation was stopped when they entered the great hall. The decor essentially was the same as the previous year, though unlike the previous year the sky was overcast, as reflected in the enchanted ceiling. Surprisingly, that only helped the atmosphere of this day, as Halloween was supposed to be a bit mysterious and gloomy.
"Like last year. Loses nothing of it's flair," Neville said when looking at the decorations,
"Well, apart from one eyesore..." Ron remarked and pointed to the faculty table where Lockhart sat. The man was wearing robes in such an eye-rotting shade of lilac that it was pretty obvious he saw himself in a competition to become the center of attention in the hall.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Please don't talk about him today. Him stalking me to give me unwanted advice on how to manage a career as a celebrity is bad enough."
However, Harry clearly was not the only one disliking Lockhart. The teachers at the faculty table were trying to look indifferent, but their attempts were rather obvious. Two teachers didn't even bother. Snape made no secret of how much he despised Lockhart. The other one surprsingly was Slughorn, who looked at Lockhart as if seeing an annoying and unruly little boy.
While walking to their house table, Ginny noticed Ron looking a bit more eager than expected. "Ron... you do that before each feast. I honestly think Mum gave you too many extra helpings over the years and you got used to it."
"Har har, really funny, Ginny," Ron grumbled, not liking it when she spoke about his appetite. "Mum simply knows I need so much, considering how fast I'm growing."
There certainly was some truth to it. Of all of them, only Hermione had already hit puberty, yet Ron had grown notably taller over the past year. He actually was the tallest of them, despite Hermione being almost nine months older than him. Considering how tall Bill and Charlie were, it was entirely possible that Ron could end up being taller than even them. Not that any of them felt particularly envious of Ron's height, all of them being in the normal height range for their age.
While the feast did begin, some other people at the table talked as well.
"So you don't celebrate Halloween in Germany?" Dean asked Stefan Schuster, the foreign boy thankfully having become a bit more open starting this year.
"No, we don't." Schuster said while looking with disdain at the jug with pumpkin juice, before taking the one he knew contained apple juice. "To us it's some strange thing the Americans try to get popular. Doesn't help it's on the same date as Reformation Day."
While Dean was glad the boy did finally let others close, hearing about the difference between life in Germany and the United Kingdom made him realize just how different these two magical societies were. "You know, I actually envy you. You've had magic and normal schoolwork in one. I'll have a hell of a time catching up with that after Hogwarts, while you'll have it much easier. Still, your situation sucks."
"We agree on that. Actually, what I'm learning here is so easy, I am doing my mundane school work by mail. My parents were really happy to find that and I'm relieved my education is not down the toilet," Schuster revealed.
Dean was outright amazed at that revelation.
Somewhere else at the Gryffindor table, two girls were gossiping.
"No, really, I saw our sixth-year Prefect, the Mr. Serious Weasley, spend a lot of time with that female Ravenclaw Prefect," Lavender Brown gossiped to her friend.
"Now that you say it, I can see it," her friend Parvati Patil said in awe. "Should we tell the others?"
Lavender paled a bit "Are you insane?! You know how Ginny is about protecting family. She might be younger than us, but remember how vicious she can be!"
Now Parvati paled a little as well. "Yes, we better keep that ourselves."
Time passed and and the feast progressed.
Myrtle, the only ghost present, had lots of fun entertaining the first-year students, telling them all kind of interesting stories while also doing some weird and normally anatomically impossible things with her spectral body. Clearly, Myrtle had more fun here than she would've had at Nick's deathday party.
At the Syltherin table Dudley found himself in the strange position of talking the two muggleborn first-years in Slytherin. Hearing it from them, it seemed that they also got some rather unpleasant people in their dorms, but nothing that could top Malfoy or Parkinson. Speaking of which, Dudley saw these two in discussion with some students from the years above them.
Most likely sucking up to them to secure their own position after how badly they blundered last year, Dudley thought.
"Hey, Dudley," Daphne then asked him while Millicent returned from her bathroom break. "Is Halloween actually also celebrated out there?"
"Of course it is, but our neighborhood was never into it," Dudley told her. Adding silently, that his parents wouldn't have approved anyway. "It's not as popular like it is in America."
"Oh, really?" Millicent asked while refilling her cup. "Never knew that."
The feast lasted some time longer, but all good things had to end and soon enough Dumbledore announced it's end and the students started to make their way back to their dormitories. Or at least they would have, if not for a girl suddenly screaming in fear!
I knew it! Something had to happen today, Harry thought.
Although it was counter-intuitive, people did start running to where the scream had come from. Harry and friends did so as well, despite how dumb that was. They did see a third-year Ravenclaw girl looking in terror at the wooden paneling of the wall.. She had good reason to be afraid, since it looked like someone had written something onto the paneling with what looked like blood. They all read what was written there in big letters.
The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the heir... beware.
Everyone stared at these words while the teachers finally managed to get through the crowd and looked at the disturbing display. The teachers looked around, clearly trying to see if anyone did stand out. However, no one acted suspicious in any way.
Finally, Snape asked the obvious question. "All right, does anyone know who did this?!" Silence answered his question.
Seeing this was going nowhere, the Headmaster saw this situation had to be brought under control. "Everyone is to return to their dormitories! The teachers will do the escorting. Rest assured we will find out who is responsible for this act of tasteless vandalism."
Students started to move, but before Hermione could, she was held by the shoulder. Hermione saw it was Parkinson. "Enemies of the heir... that means you, mudblood. Maybe you will be next." Parkinson whispered, then left with a mean giggle.
Hermione was shocked by that declaration, while Ron, who had witnessed it, grumbled in anger. "What's that bint's problem?!"
There was no more time to talk however, when McGonagall started to usher them towards Gryffindor tower.
...some time later...
By now it was late evening and the teachers had gathered in the staff room after they'd made sure the students would stay in their dormitories for the night - by locking the entrances with a seal that would last until the morning. All of the teachers and staff were present... with one obvious exception.
"I see our illustrious Defense professor is missing," Snape said with biting sarcasm. Not than anyone could blame him, considering the openly shown incompetence under Lockhart's outer layer of glory.
"As much as others hold Gilderoy in high esteem, I do not want him present for this matter," Dumbledore explained Lockhart's absence, his description of Lockhart filled with sarcasm. "Argus, is that offensive message removed?" he then asked Filch.
"No." Clearly, Filch was not happy about that while petting Mrs. Norris to calm himself. "The elves tried lots of magic, but the damn message persists. No idea what kind of magic can do that. We'll have to tear out and replace the paneling in order to get rid of it."
"A pity. See that everything is arranged for that in the morning." The Headmaster then turned to Slughorn. "Horace, you did analyze the blood as I told you?"
"Yes. It's animal blood, though I can't yet determine which kind. Though I don't think that's important," Slughorn reported.
That reminded Hagrid of something. "One of the cows went missing two days ago. I have a good idea where the blood comes from."
"As I feared..." Dumbledore leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. "These facts do prove that this is not a simple, tasteless prank. No, this is much more serious."
There was some silence after the Headmaster had said this, though many had already expected this due to what they knew. After what happened the previous year, the idea didn't sound so far-fetched all of a sudden. Snape for his part was on instinct touching his left forearm, but he didn't feel anything from there. Still, he couldn't help but feel unwell at the idea.
"You don't think... it's him?" Slughorn looked spooked by the thought, especially after what happened the previous school year. For some reason, Tom Riddle had always been a sensitive topic for him.
"I probably would have said 'no', if not for the events of the previous year. Now all facts point towards this being the doing of Lord Voldemort. After all, only he would have the needed knowledge and skills to use the chamber and what it contains," Dumbledore said, remembering too well the previous time the chamber had been opened.
"How is that possible?" Professor Flitwick wondered, himself having helped in making sure the wraith that was Voldemort couldn't enter the school grounds again. "After all, we did everything to keep him out. How could he have gotten around it?"
"That... is the big question and we have none of the answers. Also, regretfully, there is nothing we can do right now," Dumbledore sighed, feeling the weight of the situation.
"Sir?" Professor Vector looked taken aback at these words. "Shouldn't we right away do something? Alarm the Ministry..."
Dumbledore held up his hand and Vector fell silent. The Headmaster then gave her a look of regret. "Alas, as much I would like to involve the authorities this early... they would not believe us. They would declare it a juvenile prank and not grant us any help. No, as sad as it sounds, the only thing we can do for now is to be more vigilant and improve security."
McGonagall looked like she had swallowed a lemon. "Albus, does that mean we can only expect help after something has already happened?"
Dumbledore looked to Slughorn. "Horace, you were there the last time it happened. Your certainly also remember how mysterious injuries happened and the authorities did nothing about it?"
Slughorn didn't like to remember those days, as it hit too close to some things he rather wanted to forget, but those events he still remembered well. "The Ministry, the Headmaster... all of them put their heads into the sand and only acknowledged the problem when that poor girl got killed. And then they overreacted. It was a complete mess."
"So we have to wait until someone dies before we can expect any help?" Snape clearly couldn't believe it, but in the back of his mind his cynical voice reminded him of the general egocentrism of politicians.
"We are stuck in a bad position and can only pray it doesn't come to that." For his part, Dumbledore again felt that he was slowly starting to get too old for this job.
o
The common room of Gryffindor tower was deserted, all of the students having decided to go to bed after it became clear they would be restricted to the tower until morning. That of course didn't mean the speculation about these words on the wall was already gaining steam. However, six second-year students were still in the common room, sitting close to the fireplace.
Harry was holding his mirror while they were telling Sirius of what had happened.
"Well... and that's all I could find out from Hogwarts: a History. There has to be more and we are trying to find out tomorrow," Hermione concluded.
Ron groaned at the idea that they would spend so much time in the library. "Thing is, we don't even know where to start looking."
"You already know quite a lot," Sirius told them, looking quite proud at them, before becoming serious again. "Thanks to my 'dear' parents, I do know of the chamber. They were really proud to tell me the monster actually killed a muggleborn girl in 1943."
"That's news to us." Neville looked a bit nervous when hearing the monster was real.
"I actually learned lots of it only after the fact from Dumbledore while we made plans for the preschool. Take three guesses who opened the chamber," Sirius said further, remembering his own surprise at the revelations.
The children did pale a bit - even Luna - when realizing who had been the guilty party. "You mean... him?" Ginny asked, gulping hard.
"Yes. Dumbledore didn't go into much detail however. For that you have to ask Myrtle, since she's the girl who got killed." Sirius saw the astonished silence. "Thing is, Voldemort then blamed Hagrid for it and Dumbledore only managed some years ago to finally clear his name and reveal the truth."
"Hagrid? But... he's the nicest person you could imagine!" Harry had become good friends with the man, so it was shocking that he'd been framed for such a crime.
"Let's say many people can't look beyond their bias," Sirius explained to them.
"So you think it's Voldemort again? But... how is he doing it?" Ron wondered.
After last year, he no longer had any trouble using the name. In fact, none of them were afraid of using the name by now. Harry and Hermione never had been to start with. Luna had never shown the irrational fear of the name normally found in the magical world, most likely due to her personality. Ron, Ginny and Neville had all lost their fear of the name after being confronted by Voldemort. After being confronted by him in person, they had something they could actually be afraid of, instead of his name.
Sirius then gave them an expression which meant the next part was a warning. "That is the big question, and something I will speak about with the Headmaster. You six on the other hand promise me you do nothing stupid like trying to find the monster. Since the monster is a basilisk - a huge snake that can kill if you see its eyes."
Only Hermione and Luna actually knew what a basilisk was in detail, but Sirius' description alone was enough the deter them from trying anything stupid. "We promise to be good! After last year we really don't want to get into danger again. We just look for the whole story, nothing more," Harry promised.
"Good, I hope so. Otherwise your parents and guardians won't be very amused." Sirius then looked to the side. "Oh, Diane also wants to have some words with you."
The picture on the mirror shifted to Diane. "Hello, children. To be honest, what you just described is not something that makes me feel the school is safe. However, I do know there are many factors... Had I not known the school has already turned over every stone to find that monster, I would have accused them of endangering children."
They knew Diane had some strong opinions about keeping children safe, especially due to being a mother herself. After what happened the previous year, she had honestly asked Sirius if there are options to pull the children out of school. He must have told her why that would be very difficult, but clearly her doubts remained.
"Also, if anything happens, tell us right away. Oh, and Harry. Do not think we won't share these things with Thomas and Veronica. We do know you at times tend to think things are not important," Diane reminded Harry.
"One time..." Harry groaned. Clearly, his guardians still remembered him not telling them about the sorting.
"And before I forget... this goes for all of you. We won't hesitate to tell your parents as well if you do something stupid and we learn of it," Diane added.
To them this was one of the strongest threats that could be given - one they knew Diane and Sirius would not hesitate to make good on if they felt it would keep the children safe.
...the next day, Hagrid's hut...
"Oh, hello, really unexpected to see you come to visit me out of the blue," Hagrid greeted the six friends while he was busy with loading the remaining pumpkins from his pumpkin patch onto a cart to sell them to the grocery in Hogsmeade. "Does it have something to do with what happened yesterday?"
The slightly guilty faces were answer enough, but Hagrid laughed it off. "Don't worry, I'm not angry you visit me for that. I shrugged off the injustice, so I don't mind if you are curious and ask questions." That said he led them inside and set up the kettle for some tea.
"Still sorry, Hagrid, that we visit you for that, " Harry apologized while being busy with making sure Fang wouldn't knock him over with his enthusiastic greeting.
"Again, I don't mind. Can't actually blame you that you are rattled, considering what happened last year..." Hagrid then served the tea once it was done, pouring it into the cups. "So, how much do you actually know?"
"Well, I tried to puzzle it together from old issues of the Daily Prophet from the library and Hogwarts: a Histoy. It's been surprisingly much work due to how much has been hushed up," Hermione admitted.
"We now do know that the Chamber of Secrets was built by Salazar Slytherin and when he left Hogwarts after bitter disputes with the other founders over also accepting students from non-magical families, he left behind some kind of monster in the chamber, which one day was supposed to do what he couldn't - remove all muggleborn students from the school by murdering them," Harry started to explain what they did know.
"Which proves the guy was a completely insane maniac," Ron added, being highly unimpressed with what a horrible person that Hogwards found had been.
"However, puzzling together things then became a chore. We puzzled together from the newspapers of 1943 and 1986, that the monster is a basilisk and that Voldemort is the Heir of Slytherin. He opened the chamber in 1943, which caused Myrtle's death. He then framed you for it and it took over 40 years until your innocence was finally proven," Hermione continued.
"The newspapers were awfully vague about these events. We didn't even learn Voldemort's real name. So perhaps you can fill the blanks for us?" Ginny asked.
Hagrid had looked a bit unsteady at the constant use of Voldemort's name, but tried to hide it. "Sure, there are some gaps I can fill in for you," Hagrid offered while putting one big chunk of sugar into his own cup.
"Myrtle got killed in the very bathroom she likes to hang out in. Actually, that very toilet she dwells in at times is where she died. At that time I was raising an Acromantula named Aragog. I was worried because Aragog became bigger and wanted to ask a teacher for help... well, until a Prefect named Tom Marvolo Riddle claimed I'm guilty of having caused Myrtle's death and that Aragog did it."
"That Tom Marvolo Riddle, was that...?" Neville asked, remembering Voldemort all too well from the confrontation some months ago.
"Yes, that was him. At the time he didn't look like he did later on - don't ask me how that happened - and had an easy time to make everyone believe him. Aragog managed to get away into the forest, but Riddle got an award for 'catching' me and my wand got snapped." Despite saying he was over it, it was clear Hagrid still was bitter at how everyone had believed Riddle so easily.
"There are no spiders that can kill like a basilisk does. They didn't even bother to verify his claim?" Hermione asked, her trust in authorities shaken by hearing it from Hagrid.
"Headmaster Dippet wanted quick results and someone to blame the whole thing on. Also, many were only waiting for a pretext to remove me. In their eyes I held no place in society." Hagrid left it at that, not wanting to talk about why that was the case.
"Uh, wait a minute... I know Acromantulas can get really big. Is that Aragog still around?" Ron asked, having become pale due to his fear of spiders.
"Oh, he still is, but life has not been the same for him in recent years," Hagrid bemoaned when thinking of his friend. "He's quite old by now, lost his wife Mosag some years ago and has gone blind from the stress. He knows his children will become rebellious once he's too weak to lead them any longer." Hagrid then saw how afraid not only Ron looked. "Oh, don't worry. After the Headmaster learned of the colony, he made sure they can never leave a certain area deep in the forest."
Knowing of Hagrid's love for dangerous animals, hearing that was quite the relief.
"Something that's making me afraid... If Voldemort is the Heir of Slytherin, could it have been him who has painted that message?" Neville asked, dreading that it could be the case.
"Dumbledore made sure after last year that his wraith can't enter Hogwarts. It can't be him. Not to speak of the fact he would be unable to write anything." Hagrid then scratched his beard. "Very strange all of that..."
Some time later saw Harry, Ron and Neville stand next to the door of a girls' bathroom, waiting.
It was how Percy found them when walking around the corner. "I'm almost afraid to ask. Why are you three standing outside of a girls' toilet?" he asked them, hoping it was something innocent.
"Oh, Perce." It was times like these where Ron was glad that Percy had become more relaxed, not wanting to imagine 'Prefect Percy's' reaction. "No, nothing weird is going on. We just need to talk to Myrtle and the girls have not yet come back out with her. No idea what takes them this long..."
"Oh, it's that bathroom," Percy said in recognition. Him only now realizing could be excused, since it was the girls who had to deal with Myrtle liking to hang out in that bathroom at times. "Are you fishing for information regarding the chamber?"
"Yes. We already looked through written records and visited Hagrid. Myrtle was directly involved as well. It's not forbidden for us to want to know more," Harry told Percy.
"No, it's not." Percy knew he had no grounds to intervene. "Personally, I believe these smeared words are just a tasteless prank. However, as long as you don't break any school rules, I'll keep out of it."
They watched Percy leave and it was only after he was gone, that the door opened. "Good, he's gone. Nothing against Percy, but I don't exactly want him present for this," Ginny said, clearly having listened at the door.
Myrtle then followed them out, simply floating through the door. "I must say, I must feel a bit flattered that you want to know more about that day. The girls already told me what you did find out."
"Yes, Myrtle. Can you help us understand what exactly happened that day? There were no details and you... eh... were there after all," Neville explained to Myrtle, stumbling a little over his words.
"Please, I'm not offended if you just say I was the victim of the crime." Myrtle then looked thoughtful. "I can't give you that much. I was sitting on my toilet, crying my eyes out, when suddenly I heard the voice of a boy."
"Voldemort?" Harry asked.
"Well, I didn't know back then, but yes. Partway through, his voice suddenly turned into hissing sounds for some moments. I honestly didn't care and just wanted to give him a piece of my mind for entering a girls' toilet. I opened the stall door. I did see him... a face I'll never forget... and next to him. The one thing I do remember best were the big yellow eyes," Myrtle stopped for a moment. It seemed the yellow eyes were still haunting her.
"The basilisk, right?" Luna asked, seeing that Myrtle seemed lost in memories. "You seem still afraid of it."
"I never saw any details of that beast. Seeing these horrible eyes, it was like my brain got fried... and I died. When I did awake the way I am now, the bathroom was silent and no one was there, apart from my corpse." In retrospect Myrtle felt the horror of seeing her own corpse.
"That's basically it." Myrtle then remembered something. "Oh yes, they did find a small snake scratched into the tap of an out-of-order faucet facing my stall, the exact place where I saw the eyes, but no one ever found out what that was about. I only know the faucet never worked."
"Can you show me?" Luna asked, feeling that one of them would be more than enough.
Myrtle did so and showed Luna what she meant. Luna pushed her glasses up her nose while taking a closer look. Indeed, scratched into the side of one of the taps was a tiny snake. Luna also tried the taps, but Myrtle had been correct, the faucet didn't work. After thanking Myrtle for her help, Luna left and then told her friends what she had seen while they walked back to the tower.
"Why would Voldemort scratch a snake into a tap?" Ginny wondered.
"Who knows what goes on in the head of a madman?" Ron counter-asked, correctly pointing out that with a person like Voldemort, actions not necessarily need to have rhyme or reason.
Hermione for her part looked thoughtful. "I for my part wonder why he had brought the basilisk into that bathroom in the first place? I mean, not to kill Myrtle, otherwise he wouldn't have been so hectic in erasing his tracks."
"You mean him killing Myrtle had not been planned and messed up his plans?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded. "Yes. But that begs the question... what had he planned with that monster before things went awry?"
They found no answer to that.
...Defense class, November 5th...
Ever since the disastrous incident with the pixies, Lockhart no longer brought any live creatures to class. However, he also didn't teach them anything else. No spells, no tells of what the Dark Arts are and certainly nothing useful. Instead, he'd decided to turn his classes into him reading from his books, and sometimes roping other students into re-enacting some scenes.
To say it was an utter disappointment was putting it mildly. Even the biggest Lockhart fans by now realized that in order to not get a dead-sure failing grade later down the road, they had to compensate by investing time in the study groups that made up for the lack of quality in first four years of Defense class. Also, the teacher reading to you from a book constantly not only was boring, it also damaged Lockhart's image.
Right now Harry was barely hiding his contempt for the man, because the scene they were re-enacting - and which he had been forced to participate in - was Lockhart's bogus takedown of a werewolf, which to Harry was a huge insult to his Uncle Remus. Not to speak of the fact that Lockhart often picked Harry for these re-enactments, which made Harry dislike these classes even more.
The only thing worse was, that right now Harry was in the role of the werewolf.
"Nice loud howl, Harry - exactly - and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced - like this - slammed him to the floor - thus with one hand, I managed to hold him down - with my other, I put my wand to his throat - I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm - he let out a piteous moan - go on, Harry - higher than that - good - the fur vanished - the fangs shrank - and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective - and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."
It was not only Harry and his friends. Basically everyone who had went to the preschool felt offended at this display. After all, Mr. Lupin had been nothing but helpful to them and honest about his condition, even telling them that the wolf is very dangerous.
Just then the bell signaled the end of the lesson.
"Homework - compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!" Lockhart called.
The classroom emptied suspiciously fast.
"I was so close to telling him I won't do it..." Harry made no secret of his anger.
"Well, it felt more like 'Lockhart's fairy tale session' than anything else," Seamus complained. "Is he really the best that was available?"
"He was the only one available," Hermione said, then saw she got the attention of everyone not in the know. "We've got it from someone in the know. After what happened to Quirrell, no one else wanted the job. Lockhart was the only one applying for it."
"Oh boy..." Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw groaned. "You would think a school like Hogwarts would attract good teachers."
"It's not common knowledge, but there's a curse on the position they can't remove. Why do you think starting with fifth year Professor Snape teaches Defense without any official position? It's to protect him and to make up for the first four years. Defense has become a thankless teaching position," Hermione explained further.
"You are serious." They saw to their surprise that Schuster had listened to their conversation. The boy normally didn't say much, preferring to keep to himself, but recently he had started to help out some of the less able students due to being so much ahead. "I wish I could just opt out. I know a private tutor is possible, but my parents are still being stonewalled."
They had heard the story before, but this was new. It seemed some things had happened over the past year. Not that they could have known, considering how untalkative Schuster was. It wasn't that he was rude to the other students, he just didn't interact much with anyone. It seemed however, the constant loneliness had gotten to him, as he'd become somewhat more open this year.
"That can't be legal. It's a right to opt for private tutoring, even though few do so due the prestige that comes attending Hogwarts," Neville said, having heard his parents discuss in before Remus had approached them for the preschool.
Schuster let out a humorless laugh. "It's difficult when some petty, racist and xenophobic bureaucrats treat your parents as if they are what you see at a zoo in the monkey cage. My parents experienced some of them telling them to the face with a smug expression 'we don't serve your kind'. Not that I think all of you are like that, but there are enough to cause things like that. It certainly paints a shitty picture of your country to any outside observer."
My parents never interacted with the Ministry. Would they be treated the same way, or better because they are not foreigners? Hermione wondered. What she had heard had happened sound highly racist and illegal, but she didn't doubt it did happen.
...November 7th, Quidditch pitch...
The time had come for the first Gryffindor Quidditch match of the year. By bad luck of the draw - as the matches were randomized - they again had their first match against Slytherin. Hufflepuff would play against Ravenclaw the next week. By now the incident with the tasteless graffiti had been forgotten by most, since after all it only had been words painted onto a wall, and little more than that. By now everyone's mind was on the match that was about to start.
Inside the locker room, Wood was giving final instructions.
"All right, we all know of the broom upgrade the Slytherin team got. However, that's not everything and I really have to thank Ron here, who managed to find ways for us to counter that," Wood announced, causing Ron's face trying to match the color of his hair, especially when Fred and George started to applaud - at least until one look form Ginny silenced them.
"Ah, yes. Now, we drilled extensively how to counter that. Show them that this slime Malfoy bribing his way into the team hasn't done them any good!" Yes, Wood's anger at this unfairness was clearly shining through.
"Winning last year really did us some good..." George whispered to Harry.
"Yes, Oliver has not done his usual speech," Fred added. Clearly, they had become sick of the standard speech by now.
"So all of you know what to do. Let's go to the pitch!" Wood told the team.
While the team started to leave, Ron looked a bit nervous. "I hope my ideas work..."
"Ron, stop worrying. You did good. Don't think otherwise," Ginny told her brother. "Remember we had no strategy at all before you spoke up."
"Still can't help it..." Ron did feel the pressure that if his ideas proved to be wrong, the team would pay dearly for it. Of course they would have done so as well without any counter-strategy, but to Ron that wasn't important.
Ginny sighed and looked to Harry. "Thank all goodness he's not playing. Ron was never good at concentrating once there's too much pressure on him due to expectations."
Harry said nothing but knew Ginny was right. Ron didn't do well once the expectations were too high. He had gotten better about it over the years, but a stadium full of people - with all of Gryffindor essentially hoping his strategy would work - still was too much. Thank all goodness Ron still got two years to be eased out of it before he would ascend to keeper. Funny enough, he never was like that when it came to chess, regardless how high the stakes.
Up in the stands meanwhile, the other half of the six friends again were having an interesting conversation.
"The two of you really seem to like sitting next to us. Is there something that makes us attractive to you?" Luna asked the two girls sitting next to them.
Daphne laughed at the question, finding it funny. "Oh, not in that sense. We enjoy sitting close to you because certain people avoid sitting close to you." She then looked to a different part of the stands, where she spotted Parkinson together with Crabble and Goyle. "He must have loaned them out to her."
"I'm still a bit perplexed that you're not rooting for your team, despite your friend being on it," Neville asked.
"Oh, he actually told us about what happened. He's not too happy with it either. Malfoy getting on the team by bribery and an artificial advantage... It's difficult for us to root for our house's team after all that," Millicent explained, though she seemed a bit distracted by looking at the pitch.
"Understandable. It's good to see students that go against cliches," Hermione remarked, playing on the reputation of Slytherin.
"Yes, but part of it is no cliche. Our house has without doubt the highest number of jerks in it. We're not whitewashing that. Something went very wrong in the past," Daphne added, knowing the truth behind the reputation.
"Well, statistically... Ah, there they are!" Hermione then said when seeing both teams walk onto the pitch.
Down on the pitch Wood had to try very hard not to grimace when seeing the smirk Flint was giving him. However the knowledge that Flint would soon get a surprise helped. Just wait until we are in the air. Then you'll see how little your expensive brooms are really worth.
Harry for his part saw the expression Malfoy was giving him: one a king would give to a peasant. That clinched it to Harry that he wanted to humiliate Malfoy. Malfoy who was riding on his high horse, while all he did was whine to his father until Malfoy Snr. bribed the team to let Draco in. No, he really wanted to cut this tosser down two or three sizes. Not to speak of Malfoy's impossible behavior.
Then, finally, the game started.
After the first few minutes, something did become clear.
"Obviously, these brooms are not as big an advantage as they thought they would be," Luna observed.
"No doubt about that," Daphne replied, watching what was happening with interest.
The Nimbus 2001 was the perfect broom for a seeker, as it could reach its top speed very quickly. However, its shortcomings in the other positions were obvious. The Slytherin chasers, while certainly fast, had trouble navigating their booms in time or with the needed precision. The beaters always had to work on not accidentally flipping their brooms over due to the momentum when hitting a bludger. The keeper was suffering from the broom not being made to turn on the spot and sometimes suddenly rocketing in one direction.
"Looks like the bribe backfired big time on them," Neville observed.
Hermione certainly was not broken over a bribe backfiring that way. "They deserve it."
Marcus Flint for his part was cursing up a storm.
These brooms, as good as they had looked in theory and were used in training, proved less than ideal in an actual match. Oh, sure, Malfoy got the best broom for his position, but the rest of the team only now realized they got a raw deal, since the Nimbus 2001 was only perfect for a seeker. Even worse, the Gryffindors certainly seemed to have realized that and were mercilessly exploiting these weaknesses.
And I let that pipsqueak in for that?! Flint cursed himself. Not that he could get rid of Malfoy now, but he certainly would have some serious words with him. Next game they would switch back to their old brooms.
Harry had little mind for that however. By now the snitch had taunted him half a dozen times, but he hadn't caught it yet. That mainly was due to Malfoy constantly trying to foul him, as if that was more important than winning the match. Thankfully, Malfoy had been just as unsuccessful in getting the snitch.
"Looks like you are out of luck, scar head!" Malfoy taunted, showing off the speed of his broom.
"Like you are doing much better!" Harry shot back, then... -woooosh- He barely managed to avoid a bludger zooming by. However, that helped little as the bludger suddenly made an impossibly tight turn and zoomed right back towards him. He managed to evade it, but it simply turned around to attack him again. "What the...? Crap!"
"Damn thing!" George cursed, having caught up with Harry. Hitting the bludger hard with his bat, he sent it towards Malfoy, only for it to make a curve around him before with unnatural speed zooming back towards Harry. "Crap, that's tampering! Angelina, tell Madam Hooch!" he then called to Angelina Johnson, who was passing by right now.
Angelina saw quickly what that was about, George being busy with defending Harry from that wild bludger. "Cripes!" She then made a beeline for Madam Hooch, who as usual was refereering the match. "Madam Hooch, that damn bludger has been tampered with to only aim for Harry!"
As fanatical as she was about the sport, Madam Hooch needed only a few seconds to see how the bludger was single-mindedly attacking Harry. Unlike other people who would just say 'Don't act like a pussy!', she was very much concerned with the health of the players. That, and this smelled of cheating. She was just about to blow her whistle to stop the game until that bludger was caught and replaced - that had nothing to do with forfeiting the game - when things happened very quickly.
Harry suddenly saw the snitch while Malfoy was being busy with taunting Harry about this sudden turn of events. The damn thing was hovering left of Malfoy's ear and out of his sight. Instincts kicked in and he suddenly shot forward, knocking Malfoy aside. He... did manage to grab the snitch... -WHAM- and the bludger, suddenly altering its trajectory, managed to smash the bones in his arm to pieces!
Still holding onto the snitch, he spiraled down towards the pitch, falling off his broom just barely above the ground. The pain kept him from moving, but lying face up, he could see Madam Hooch managing to finally get the bludger captured in a conjured iron box, the thing still trying to break lose. The team and reserve team, together with other people, were running onto the pitch, clearly concerned about his health.
Harry knew things would get better soon... at least until he heard a very much unwanted voice.
"He certainly has a flair for the dramatic." That was Lockhart speaking loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm. Lie back, Harry. It's a simple charm I've used countless times -"
Harry, knowing of Lockhart's ineptitude, was horrified at that idea. "Guys! Stop him! Stop him!"
Before anyone could react however, Lockhart was already casting the spell.
Harry's arm suddenly deflated, bending like it was made of rubber. It also didn't feel like an arm anymore. Harry looked in horror at his altered limb.
"Ah," Lockhart said, suddenly looking nervous. "Yes... Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So..." Hearing the enraged shouts from the Gryffindors, Lockhart fled as quick as he could.
Harry was still starting at his arm, before he screamed as well. But instead of in anger, it was in terror, before he fainted from all of it.
...hospital wing, later on...
As it turned out, Lockhart in his incompetence had vanished the bones in Harry's arm, much to the anger of Madam Pomfrey. Instead of a simple fix, that meant an overnight stay in the hospital wing for Harry, his floppy arm fixed in an contraption so that his bones could re-grow correctly. That meant drinking the unpleasant Skele-Gro potion.
"Tastes horribly," Harry said in distgust when he was done. "What was he thinking?"
"Not to badmouth a member of the faculty, but healing magic is to be left to professionals." Madam Pomfrey looked like she would love to strangle Lockhart. "If not for the fact the man is irreplacable due to certain factors, the Headmaster would have ended his contract today."
"That certainly is job security..." Harry grumbled. Madam Pomfrey left for her office, but Harry's friends stayed, having promised to behave themselves.
"Here, that should get you through the day," Ginny offered, putting a generous lunch package on the nightstand next to Harry. "Hospital food after all is not that great."
"Thanks... you are a life saver. So, what happened after I was out?" Harry asked, having been understandably preoccupied with other things.
"Well, Gryffindor did win. You made sure of that, but Ron's tactics certainly worked well to make sure the point balance is good as well." Hermione noticed Ron blushing a bit and wondered if it was due to him being humble or due to her saying it, as he seemed to do recently whenever she said he did something well.
"Uh...eh, yeah." It took Ron a few seconds to get his wits back. "Man, while it blows you got hit, you made Malfoy look like an idiot. He looked pissed... well, until Flint got his hands on him. He looked ready to wet himself once Flint had shouted his piece. Guess Flint doesn't think anymore these brooms were such a good 'gift'."
"What about that bloody bludger?" Harry right now couldn't help but curse when thinking about that thing.
"It exploded into tiny pieces before anyone could take a closer look," Ginny told Harry, looking disappointed. "The only reason the game does count is because we as the impacted side still won by a good margin."
"I did hear Professor Slughorn is trying to find out who did it. It seems he is especially concerned because it was you who got injured," Luna told Harry. "It seems the man's priorities have an interesting order."
They stayed with him for several hours, before he became tired and fell asleep.
Harry again woke up later on. The hospital wing was bathed in only faint light, meaning it had to be evening by now. There also was pain in his arm, and he guessed that meant the bones in his arm were growing back properly. However, he also noticed someone else in the room.
"Dobby..."
"Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah Sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he was about to miss the train?" the elf complained in a quiet voice.
Harry heaved himself up on his pillows. "So it was you who did it after all."
"Indeed yes, Sir," Dobby said, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward" - he showed Harry ten long, bandaged fingers - "but Dobby didn't care, Sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby think it was for nothing. Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, Sir..."
Harry knew that some house-elves had it rough, but this sounded more and more horrible. "Don't say anything, but you life sounds like it completely sucks."
Dobby didn't say anything, but his defeated expression made he clear he fully agreed with that sentiment.
"Uncle Sirius told me what I have to know about your people. You had the bad luck to come to serve a family of what sounds like psychopaths." Harry then came back to why Dobby was present. "You are still trying to get me out of Hogwarts? ... Wait a minute!" Harry looked at his arm. "That was you!?"
Dobby looked very ashamed. "Dobby had to do it, Sir! Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"
Harry was quite angry, but controlled himself enough not to scream at the elf. "It was a stupid plan! They would have healed me up and sent me back to school. What were you thinking?!"
It seemed Dobby realized that now as well. "Oh dear!" Dobby groaned, tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If Harry Potter knew what he 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, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, Sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, Sir," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase.
"But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end. And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more."
Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his 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..."
Having listened to all of it, Harry by now had reminded himself of the fact the Dobby was someone who was suffering from abuse. "Well, we already know about the chamber and who opened it last time. But how can it be him this time? The castle is keeping him out after all."
Suddenly however... "Bad elf is hurting Master's godson!"
"Oh no!" Dobby gasped when all of a sudden another elf appeared and tried to take a hold of Dobby, who quickly vanished and the last moment.
"Too late," the other elf cursed, then looked to Harry. "Kreacher is sorry he came too late to stop the bad elf."
"Uhm, thanks?" Harry took a closer look at the new elf. He seemed considerably older than Dobby, but also in much better health. Also, instead of wearing a pillowcase, he was wearing an actual uniform. "Can I ask who you are?"
"To be called Kreacher, head elf of House Black... though at the moment also only elf of House Black." Kreacher then looked over Harry to make sure he was in good health. "It is a great honor for Kreacher to finally meet Master's godson."
"Ah, you mean Uncle Sirius." Now Harry remembered something he'd heard Sirius say in passing. "So, you are his servant?"
"Yes. Master Sirius told Kreacher to keep his eyes open after what happened today. Even told Kreacher to stay at Hogwarts over the weekend to keep watch. Master Sirius' suspicions were not unfounded. Bad elf hurt Master's godson."
"Thanks... though I don't think Dobby would have tried anything." Harry then realized something. "Eh, Kreacher, you know which family Dobby serves?"
"Sadly, Kreacher does not know, as he he normally is not thinking about gossip." Kreacher however then thought about it. "Kreacher could attempt to find out, but won't have success if that elf kept quiet about his family. The bad elf won't return, now that Kreacher knows." Suddenly there were steps beyond the door. "Kreacher has to go for now. Report to Master."
The elf vanished and seconds later the door opened. What Harry saw... "What in all names?!"
He did see Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall hover in something he at first mistook for a statue, but once the lights were on, it proved to be a person. It was Colin Creevey, and he was completely stiff, as if frozen in time. He was still holding his camera in front of his face, showing a look of horrified surprise. The teachers noticed Harry after his shocked gasp.
"He was found in the corridor to the hospital wing. It looks like he wanted to visit you," McGonagall told Harry, then saw Madam Pomfrey arrive from her rooms next to the hospital wing. "A student found him like this near this place, Poppy. No idea how long he had been there"
Madam Pomfrey pulled her wand and made a quick diagnosis. "Petrification. He's in good health apart from the fact it's like he's frozen in time."
"Let's take a look at that camera..." Dumbledore carefully removed the camera from Colin's hands, but when opening it up he was greeted by steam and the smell of molten plastic. "The film is molten. That proves it, Mr. Creevey has been attacked by the basilisk. Its stare destroyed the film. The film... died."
"But why is Mr. Creevey only petrified and not dead?" McGonagall asked the obvious question.
"He didn't see it directly, only through the lens of the camera. I can only speculate that it weakens the death magic of the basilisk's stare significantly," Dumbledore speculated. "It however means the message didn't lie. The Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened."
McGonagall looked troubled at this revelation. "But how is he doing it? He has no body and can no longer enter the castle."
There was no answer to that question and Harry, having listened to all of this, suddenly had the feeling that this would be a difficult year.
to be continued...
Next Episode:
"The Curse Gets Worse"
Notes:
Here the notes.
I felt the whole thing with the deathday party was just a plot device to make the school mistrust Harry and I could ignore it. Of course I then used my magic to actually make this a win for Nick, who now does have a reason to feel better about himself.
I also wanted to show that yes, our six friends do have activities of their own (or just with one of the group) to remind readers that they do have lives of their own and not do everything together. Gave me the chance for some character development.
Since our friends skip the deathday party, I got the chance to write the actual halloween feast and it gave me the chance for even more character scenes (I'm good at writing those). Of course as soon as the feast is over, the message is discovered.
I hope you like how they puzzled together all the known facts after reading up about it... by simply talking to the right people. That allowed them to get all the facts painlessly. Here Hagrid of course would be willing to talk about it after his innocence was proven, and Myrtle no longer is the miserable spirit of canon.
Lockhart of course continues to be an idiot.
Ah yes, and the bludger scene. In canon there was so much stupidity surrounding this scene... I hope I made the whole thing way more logical. Also, the brooms now bite the Slytherin team in the ass.
