November 1992, 2nd year

Quidditch. The bane of Lynea's existence. And maybe Harry's, too. Or maybe Bludgers just hated him in general. Two of them had attacked him last year as well, after all, but that had been Quirrel's doing. So whose fault was it this time?

The game versus Gryffindor had barely started, when one of the Bludgers started following him, not letting itself be deterred by anything. The Slytherin beaters tried their best to keep it away from Harry, but the damn thing was stubborn.

"Not again," Theodore muttered and then scanned the crowd. "Do you see anyone chanting?"

They all looked around, trying their best to find whoever was responsible, but even Tracey with her binoculars couldn't find them.

"Dammit," Pansy hissed. "It's either one of the Gryffindors – to better their chances at winning or getting rid of a potential Heir of Slytherin or both – or someone else is after Harry's life, again."

The last time had been during the game against Gryffindor, too. Only back then, Harry hadn't been part of the team, yet.

"I don't think the first option differs from the second," Lynea said. "But right now, we need to help Harry."

"How?" Pansy exclaimed. "There's no one chanting. Or if there is, then we can't find them. And the teachers aren't doing anything. Bloody good-for-nothings."

Harry, meanwhile, was doing a splendid job at avoiding the Bludger, even with the rain that had begun to fall. Then Flint called for a time-out. Lynea and the others watched the Slytherin team converse with Madam Hooch, who signalled something to the commentator – Lee Jordan, if Lynea remembered correctly – and it was announced that the game was put on hold.

Madam Hooch waved her wand in the air and one of the Bludgers came flying towards her, so she could inspect it. The other one, however, went straight for Harry, who couldn't dodge as swiftly on the ground as he had done in the air. He was saved by a spell Madam Hooch threw at the Bludger that instantly reduced it to dust. A new Bludger was brought out and the game resumed.

It seemed as if the issue had been resolved, because Harry was left alone for the remainder of the game and the Slytherins slowly relaxed, even though they kept wondering who was behind all of this. Harry had already shown his excellent flying skills by avoiding the jinxed Bludger, but now that Lynea dared paying attention to the real game, she could see that Draco was holding his own ground, as well. He scored three out of the next five goals.

And then Harry dived and suddenly one of the Bludgers followed him again and the moment his hands closed around a tiny golden object and he held it triumphantly in the air – WHAM! – the Bludger connected with his outstretched arm.

Lynea winced, surging to her feet and running to the stairs with the others following close behind. By the time they had reached the pitch, Slytherin had been announced the winner and Harry had landed face-first in the mud. One of the teachers was already kneeling beside him, but it wasn't Madam Hooch – the woman was busy evaporating the damn Bludger.

"No," Lynea whispered, quickening her pace, but it was too late.

"Ah," she heard Lockhart say. "Yes, well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind."

Because there aren't any bones left, Lynea thought, looking at Harry's arm in horror.

"So, Harry, just toddle up to the Hospital Wing – ah, Miss Parkinson, Miss Fawley, would you escort him? And Madam Pomfrey will be able to – er – tidy you up a bit."

"I will end him," Pansy hissed. "I will drag up every bit of dirt I can get on him and then I will –"

"Leave it," Lynea said tiredly. "The jinx will take him eventually."

"I hope it will be in the most gruesome way possible."

"It's not that bad," Harry said, looking sick. "At least he didn't threaten my life. Lockhart's not skilled enough to send a Bludger after me."

"Unless he's just pretending," Lynea said.

"Like Quirrel?" Harry asked and started shaking his head, but quickly stopped, looking even greener in the face. "I don't think so. And it's just missing bones, Madam Pomfrey can easily fix that, right?"

Of course Madam Pomfrey could fix it, but it wasn't in any way easy. Harry had to stay the night, enduring the pain of regrowing bones. Lynea and Pansy stayed as long as they were allowed to, but Madam Pomfrey kicked them out the moment the Skele-Gro began taking effect.

o

Lynea was studying in the library with Daphne, Blaise, Neville and Hermione on Sunday morning, when Harry came in, looking distracted.

"Do you know where Draco is?" he asked without a greeting.

"Hello to you, too, Harry," Lynea said. "How are you feeling today?"

"Is your arm all healed up?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Harry blinked. "Yes, it is. Everything's fine. Listen – I need to talk to you and Draco. It's important."

Lynea raised an eyebrow. "And it can't wait until later?"

"No, I – Can we just – get Draco, so I can tell you what happened last night?"

Lynea sighed, put down her book and started gathering her things. "Alright. I'll see you later," she said to the others, who nodded, Neville and Hermione with confused expressions on their faces.

"Draco should be in the common room with Theo," Blaise said.

Which was where they found them, playing chess, while Vincent and Gregory were eating snacks in front of a fireplace.

Harry led Draco and Lynea to a more private corner, took a deep breath and then told them that he had woken up during the night and had had the strangest conversation in his entire life so far.

"There it was, sitting the edge of my bed – a little creature with large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. I recognized those eyes – I saw them in a hedge back at the Dursleys on my birthday. He called himself Dobby."

All blood drained from Draco's face. "Did you say Dobby?"

"Yeah? He was talking about himself in third person, but I'm pretty sure he meant himself when he said 'Dobby'."

Draco went, if possible, even paler. "Oh, no."

Harry frowned. "Do you know him?"

"Continue you story, please," Lynea quickly stepped in.

Harry's frown deepened. "Right. Where was I? So Dobby basically told me that he had been trying to stop me from going to Hogwarts all this time – he stopped my letters during the summer and he wanted to do more, but he couldn't get through the wards from the new house I was staying in, the house of Lynea's grand-aunt, and then he stopped the barrier letting us through and when that didn't work he thought hurting me with a Bludger would do the trick." Harry shook his head. "He said I was in mortal danger and that he only wanted to protect me."

"Dobby!" Draco growled and with a loud 'Pop!' a house-elf appeared right between them.

"What can Dobby do for Master Draco, sir?" the elf asked, bowing low.

Lynea cast a quick privacy spell around them.

"What –?!" Harry spluttered. "How did –?"

"Dobby," Draco said, ignoring Harry. "Did you try to prevent Harry from coming to Hogwarts?"

Dobby started trembling. "Yes, sir."

"You intercepted his letters, messed with the barrier and sent a Bludger after him that could have killed him, if Harry wasn't so good at dodging?"

"Dobby never wanted to kill Harry Potter! Only hurt, never kill!"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Did you do all of this, Dobby?"

"Yes, sir," Dobby said in a small voice.

Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "To save him from whatever my father has been planning?"

"Yes, sir," Dobby said. "Dobby has been a bad elf, sir. But Dobby has punished himself for it. Dobby had to iron his hands, he did."

"Dobby, I command you to stop harassing Harry Potter."

"Yes, sir," Dobby said immediately.

"So everything that has happened to Harry so far was Dobby's fault?" Lynea said. "That's one problem solved. And we know from you father's letter that his plan has most likely to do with the Chamber of Secrets – but I don't understand why that would put Harry's life in danger. The heir is supposed to go after muggleborn, not halfbloods."

"And he already found his first victim," Harry said. "Colin Creevey has been petrified. They brought him in right after Dobby paid me a visit."

"That's not good," Lynea said. "Mrs Norris was one thing, but a student … He's not dead?"

Harry shook his head. "Do you think they'll close the school?"

Draco snorted. "As if. If our safety had ever been their priority, the school would have never been allowed to open in the first place."

"Quidditch is one prime example of this," Lynea said.

"Shut up, Lynea," Draco shot back.

"Draco?" Harry asked, his eyes fixed on Dobby the house-elf. "Why is Dobby wearing that rag?"

"Because Dobby is a strange elf," Draco answered. "All of our other house-elves make sure to keep their pillowcases in pristine condition."

Dobby said nothing to that.

"But why is he waring a pillowcase?" Harry asked. "Why not normal clothes?"

Draco furrowed his brows. "All house-elves wear pillowcases, that's just what they wear."

Harry scowled and opened his mouth.

"Can we not get into a house-elf debate right now?" Lynea interrupted. "Harry's life is apparently in danger, again, and I would rather discuss that than get involved in a messy debate about house-elves."

"Dobby, is there anything useful you can tell us?" Draco said.

"Master has already figured out everything Dobby knows, sir," Dobby said with wide eyes.

"Then go home."

Dobby bowed and disapparated with a loud crack. Harry kept staring at the place where he had been standing.

"So Draco's and Theodore's fathers, maybe other people, too, helped the heir open the chamber and somehow this puts Harry's life in danger." Lynea tilted her head. "Maybe the heir is going to purge the school and then kill Harry as a last act? But why kill Harry …"

"Maybe it's the Dark Lord," Harry said. "Dobby said it wasn't him, but he was acting strange – or stranger than he already was acting, anyway. Another possession, maybe? He could be acting through someone else." Harry frowned. "Draco, was you father a follower of the Dark Lord?"

"Yes," Draco said tersely.

"So was my uncle, Theodore's father," Lynea said. "It would fit. But if the Dark Lord is possessing someone again, then he's doing it differently compared to last year. I think we would have noticed, otherwise."

"He was under that turban, wasn't he?" Draco asked quietly. "We would have seen his face, had Quirrel finished unwrapping it before Snape incapacitated him."

Lynea nodded. "I think so, yes."

Draco shuddered. "I'm glad it didn't come to that, then. It was terrible enough witnessing the Dark Lord's spirit leaving Quirrel's body."

Draco fell silent for a while, lost in memories, and Harry had begun looking ill at the mention of Quirrel.

Lynea gave them a moment, before speaking up again. "Do we know why Creevey has been petrified? Do you think that was intentional? Maybe 'purging' doesn't necessarily mean 'killing'. The last time the chamber had been opened, only one person died, but from the letter I got the impression that there had been several attacks before that – no mention of petrification, though. But how are they doing it? What is the monster? If there even is one. Maybe the chamber contains secret knowledge or some other means to attack students and go unnoticed. That might explain the differences to the other time."

"Or fifty years distorted the story," Draco said. "It would be better to hear it from someone who was actually there, but your grand-aunt isn't talking."

Lynea shrugged. "I could ask her again over the winter holidays, but we should keep an extra eye on Harry until we now more."

Harry groaned, but didn't object. "Why is it always me that's the target?"

Draco reached over to pat him on the arm. "Poor little Boy Who Lived."

Harry looked at him with an indecipherable look on his face. "Now that we finished talking about this very important subject … Draco, does your father mistreat all of his house-elves like he does with Dobby?"

"What?" Draco asked, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

Lynea quietly rose from her seat, but Harry, of course, saw the motion. "Where are you going?"

"I'll just … go, alright?" Lynea took a step to the side and picked up her bag.

Harry fixed her with narrowed eyes. "Lynea, why are you trying to run from this conversation?"

Lynea raised her hands defensively, slowly starting to back away. "We don't own any house-elves. No need to drag me into this."

"Lynea!" Harry exclaimed as she turned around and quickly walked towards the dormitories.

o

Colin Creevey's petrification was the proof the students had needed to let themselves be convinced that the writing on the wall was real and not just an insensitive prank.

The younger students now all travelled in packs, Slytherin or not. The snakes had to tread especially carefully and a black market of protective items like talismans and amulets had arisen. Neville let himself be beguiled to buy several ominous objects even though he was a pureblood. He insisted he was basically a squib and the monster had gone after Filch, who was an actual squib – but Lynea pointed out that he had significantly improved since she and Hermione had begun tutoring him and that he was doing mostly fine these days. Neville didn't listen to her.

Harry was growing tired of being surrounded by his housemates all the time, but the others would not let him talk them out of it. Draco had explained to the others that the Bludger incident had just been a misunderstanding, but Harry was still facing an unknown threat.

"Oh, come on!" Pansy exclaimed after Draco's explanation. "You can't just say that and expect me not to get curious. A misunderstanding? What kind of misunderstanding?"

Draco sighed. "They won't go after Harry anymore. Isn't that enough?"

"Not nearly. I need to know all the juicy details – who did it? Why did they do it? What was their motive and why was it a misunderstanding? Also, how did they do it? Jinxing that Bludger was no easy magic."

Draco remained stubbornly silent, as did Lynea and Harry, but Pansy didn't give up. She continued pestering them for the whole of November and then changed her strategy to more cunning methods, trying to trick them into revealing the information. It didn't work. Although Harry nearly cracked on several occasions, but neither Lynea nor Draco ever left him alone these days, so they were always there to intervene. Lynea wasn't even sure whether Draco had a proper reason for keeping the Dobby issue from Pansy (like he had kept his father's plan from her until Harry's tongue slipped) or whether he just did it to spite her – with Draco, either was just as plausible.

"You will never give up, will you?" Draco asked with a deep sigh one day in late November.

They were just coming back from lunch and on their way to their common room.

"You know I won't," Pansy replied with a smug grin.

"Just tell her, Draco," Harry said amused. "What's the use in keeping it from her, anyway? Although by this point, the result will be rather anticlimactic."

"See?" Draco said. "I absolutely can't tell her now."

"Hmpf," Pansy huffed. "I will find out eventually. I always do."

"What's the latest gossip?" Lynea asked, trying to distract her.

Pansy shrugged. "Recently, all they can talk about is the chamber and whoever the heir might be. It's getting rather boresome. I did catch a certain Weasley prefect sneaking out of the dungeons, however. I wonder if that might have had something to do with a certain Quidditch captain."

Lynea racked her brain, trying to remember whether Pansy had said something similar before. "Oliver Wood and … Percy Weasley?"

Pansy nodded. "I haven't caught them for a while and I was beginning to think they had either broken up their secret affair or finally realized there are literally hundreds of less obvious places to snog, where nosy Slytherins won't find them. But it seems like –"

There was the sound of breaking glass and suddenly shards were flying everywhere. Lynea instinctively conjured up a shield and then carefully opened her eyes. She saw movement at the end of the corridor, but Draco's cry stopped her from giving chase.

"Harry!" he cried. "Harry are you alright?"

Draco was kneeling next to Harry, who was holding a bloody hand over his face. Lynea couldn't even tell whether all of that blood came from the gashing wound on his forehead or whether his hand was injured, too.

"We need to get him to Snape," she said. "Pansy, are you alright?"

Pansy picked up her wand and levitated the shards off of herself, before assessing the damage. "Just some scratches. It wasn't aimed at me. What about yourself?" She nodded at Lynea and then freed her from the shards she hadn't even noticed.

"Same as you," Lynea said. "Draco?"

"I'm fine," Draco bit out. "But Harry –"

"Will be fine as well," Lynea said gently and carefully stepped over the glass to help Draco hoist Harry up. "Come on, Professor Snape's office is just around the corner."

They left in the direction they had come from, having passed the office earlier and it was Pansy's job to knock. Their Head of House opened the door shortly after and silently took in their dishevelled and bloodied appearances, before opening his door further and letting them inside.

Draco and Lynea settled Harry into the chair in the corner between Professor Snape's desk and a shelf full of various potions and ingredients. Snape handed them a wet cloth each, so they could clean themselves, kneeling down in front of Harry to do it for him. Harry seemed rather reluctant and eyed their teacher warily, but remained silent.

"What happened?" Snape said softly.

"We were attacked," Pansy said. "I don't know who it was or how they did it –"

"They threw a black vase at us," Draco said. "It was made of glass. I only noticed it, when it was already too late."

"I saw someone fleeing from the scene," Lynea added. "I can't tell for sure, but I think it was at least two people."

"I will investigate this thoroughly," Professor Snape said, his jaw tight, his tone laced with barely contained anger. "The ones responsibly will be found and punished appropriately. This was a very serious offense." He finished cleaning Harry's face and then stood up, raising his hand to the shelf containing the healing potions and that was when Harry flinched.

All five of them froze.

Then Snape slowly lowered his hand, his eyes never leaving Harry as he gestured for one of the others to retrieve the dittany. Lynea slowly stepped around them and directly in front of the shelf, her back to Harry when she raised her hand to grab the dittany. Then she turned and knelt, wordlessly opening the jar and looking at Harry.

Harry was staring at them with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted.

Professor Snape said nothing as he stepped back to let Lynea apply the dittany to Harry's wounds.

Their relationship had improved slightly compared to first-year, but he and Harry were by no means on friendly terms. This, however, had nothing to do with their relationship. This, Lynea knew, was purely the Dursleys' fault.

She waited for a few moments, but it didn't seem like Harry would give her his consent, so Lynea dipped a finger in the jar and then slowly reached for Harry's hand, figuring that starting there might spook him less.

Harry did flinch at her first touch and Lynea instantly stopped moving. But then he relaxed again and let her continue tending to his wounds. When she was finished with the dittany, Professor Snape offered her bandages and when she had done that, there was tea laced with a Calming Draught waiting for Harry and her, Pansy and Draco already sitting in chairs that had not been there before, sipping at their own cups.

"You said it was a misunderstanding," Pansy said quietly.

"This was done by someone else," Draco said, sounding tired. "Trust me, I am absolutely sure about that."

Pansy looked at Draco with an unreadable expression and then nodded.

"Do you think this was what Dobby was talking about?" Lynea whispered. "About Harry being in danger."

"I don't know," Draco said quietly and he sounded so, so sad. "I want to believe my father wouldn't orchestrate something like that, but …"