A/N: hey everyone I would like everyone's input here I'm designing a conflict fornyear two almost from the ground up and ide appreciate the extra feed back as I dont have a beta reader.
I'd also like to apologize if any of the professors seem too quiet. I'm a quiet person, and these long-winded speeches go against my nature.
review responses on the bottom:
"Confound it all!" Smarra hissed angrily. "It is times such as this I wish I were able to roar; hissing does not do my wrath justice!" They had been standing outside the highly decorative door for nearly an hour, saying every phrase possible to get it to open. "The pale one must have sealed it somehow."
"Little one, I must leave for a time. My nest connects to every pipe in this school, but getting to and finding those pipes that lead to my nest is an arduous task. Blast it all! I wanted to give you certain things from my father to hide, but it might take months for me to work out how to unlock the reliquary. How he managed to change the wards that stood unchanged for a thousand years! Go to bed, young one. The chute we went down—all you must do is ask for the stairs, and you can walk up. Don't forget to put your cloak on."
After that, still hissing, she raised her body, nosed a grating covering a pipe to the side, and slid in, quickly disappearing into the darkness of the tube.
"That's not good, Harry. After she sensed You-Know-Who, the roosters crowing that someone can change ancient words to ignore commands is not a good sign at all," said Hermione
.
"No, it's not, but there's also no evidence that Voldemort is in Hogwarts. Despite Samara, my scar hasn't hurt once, and it prickled all last year when he WAS around. I don't know; I just hope she's okay," groused Harry.
"Are we still going to check out Sir Nicholas's deathday party?" asked Hermione politely, but with a great amount of suppressed excitement.
"Yeah, I reckon so. I did promise him I'd look into it, didn't I?"
"Don't expect me to go with you, bloke. I don't think ghosts serve food at their parties, and I'm not missing the feast tonight."
"Well, for one, I am excited to check it out. I don't expect many people can say they've been to a deathday party, especially Muggle-borns," replied Hermione with disapproving grace that seemed oddly familiar.
"Hey, Harry, no lessons today. Want to head back to the common room, and we can play chess?" asked Ron.
"Maybe later. Hermione and I are going to the library to sort out Lockhart's and Chamber's essays," said Harry. "Come on, mate, it's the weekend. Why ruin it with homework?" whined Ron.
"Because Ronald, Chambers' class is Monday and Lockhart's is Tuesday, and both assignments were given Friday, that means it's weekend work. That's why they are longer than usual, and obviously, unlike you, Harry, and I, actually care about our grades!" Hermione quickly responded, growing more and more agitated by the end of her little rant and storming out of the Great Hall.
"Absolutely mental she is."
"No ron, she isn't" Harry said as he gathered his bag amd hermiones as it to lay forgotten by his feet.
It was during a break that Hermione and Harry were talking about the Reliquary, and Hermione had an idea to see if there were any books about it. After finding Madam Pince, the snippy, swotty, vulture-like librarian, and asking her using the name the Ministry representative used, "the Chamber of Secrets," they asked if there was any book related to the topic.
"No, there isn't. There is a small section in "Hogwarts: A History," but that's it. "The legend of the long-fabled Chamber of Secrets is perhaps Hogwarts' most enduring legend. During the construction of the school, it is said that Slytherin built a chamber in the school and used it to house his collection of knowledge. Later, when he was leaving the school, he left behind an unknown horror that would be used by his true heir to rid the school of all those that Slytherin saw as unworthy of learning magic."
"Please, Madam Pince. An unknown horror?"
"There is believed to be a monster inside the chamber," she looked over at Harry before continuing. "If your serpent really did come out of the chamber, then I'd say she is what the legends spoke of, but as she's as friendly as a housecat, I say we are all in the clear."
"Is there anything else about it? Smara said there are other dangerous things inside it," said Harry.
No, I'm afraid that's it. For most of Hogwarts' history, it was barely a legend, so there is no known inventory of that room, not even its location." And at that, she held up her hand. "And no, I do not wish to know its location personally. I think it should remain a legend.
"Thank you, Madam Pince. That's been a great help, just having that background information."
"Anytime, dear. It is my job as a librarian to pass on knowledge." The sour old woman gave Hermione a rare smile, for whom she seemed to have developed a soft spot.
And so, after a long and torturous day writing two interesting but very boring essays, the two friends found themselves following signs decorated with jet-black, tapering candles that flickered with an odd, ethereal blue light. They descended further and further down into the dungeons of Hogwarts than either of them had ever gone until they came upon a door with more of the candles around it. An unnatural chill that fogged their breath hung in the air. Reaching out, they opened the ancient, blackened oak door, revealing a truly haunting congregation of ghosts, specters, and spirits. They could even see Peeves, the school's prank-loving poltergeist, hovering above the ghostly throng. They couldn't hear him above the incredibly horrible sound of thirty musical saws, but judging by his victims' reactions, it was very rude indeed. Then, Sir Nicholas caught sight of the two entering and wafted over to greet them.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, what a fine night it is for such a lamentable occasion," he said, his somber tone belying his broad smile. "Not a bad turnout, you know. The Wailing Widow is here all the way from Kent, and—" But he was cut off as the back wall seemed to come alive with a crowd of nearly 30 ghosts riding spectral horses, hooting and hollering, throwing their severed heads between each other, and making loud, bawdy jokes. As the loudest and rowdiest among them stopped and "stepped" off his horse and approached them.
"Nick! He's still hanging in there?" Then he shrugged his shoulders in a way that made his head do a jump and a backflip before landing back down on his truncated torso. He pointed at Harry and Hermione, shouting, "Living! What are two young fingerlings doing down here?"
"they are here at my invitation, sir podmore." indicated Nick back with his usual pompous appropose.
"Yeah, I passed him while he was reading your letter, and he told me about the Deathday celebration. Well, I'm Muggle-raised, so I had never heard of it, so I thought I'd have a look in. Hermione here wanted to come and see as well. And back to the letter, I was thinking, if I could be so forward as to make a proposal?" After another comically exaggerated nod, Harry continued. "I don't think it's right that you won't let Nick join the Headless Hunt. Sure, he can't do Head Hockey or Horseback Head Polo as you said in your letter, but there's netting that Nick can do very, very well."
"And what would that be, little Potter?" said Podmore.
"Pomously introducing you lot." with a little showmanship, his hat coming off after a bow, would be great.
"Well, well, hmm, now that is something to think about, Nick. I'll let you know what we decide later. For now, it's time for a good match of head bowling!"
After that, Harry and Hermione remained for another 30 minutes until the stench of rotting food and the extreme cold of the numerous ghosts touching them as they went hither and thither drove them away. And so, after saying farewell to Nearly Headless Nick, Hermione and Harry left and made their way to the Great Hall. When they got to the main entrance, however, they saw something that chilled the marrow in their bones: a scrawny, dust-colored cat suspended in mid-air. Mrs. Norris, the caretaker Argus Filch's cat, co-conspirator. Her body had been twisted in an unnatural way, and her eyes, the bulging lamp-like orbs that every person in the school knew, were gone.
They screamed, so loud and so suddenly that Harry's mouth filled with the taste of copper, and they both tripped before running pell-mell to the Great Hall, whose door had burst open, flooding the entrance hall with students and teachers.
"Back!" shouted a Scottish brogue. "Back away immediately!" As the headmistress approached, she exclaimed, "Mrs. Norris! Oh my!" and she started waving her wand, joined by Filius Flitwick, the school's deputy head and master of charms, and Snape himself. All three completely ignored the wracking sobs of Mr. Filch, who had come sprinting as fast as his flat feet would take him when his cat's name was mentioned. Professor Sprout was comforting the man as the three other professors spoke.
"Is she-"
"Yes, but how?"
"I am unsure. It was a dark curse that did it, and the spell making the cat float is not a levitation charm but a trap as well, but I cannot tell when it triggers. There is only one way to know for certain, however." And Snape quickly reached out and snatched the cat from its glimmering suspension, and the remains of Mrs. Norris exploded. Yet no blood hit anyone. No one was hurt at all. Instead, all the blood seemed to suspend itself in midair before flying to the wall of the entrance hall, forming large red words.
"The Chamber of Secrets is open once more. Allies need not fear, but the enemies of the true heir, beware."
Pandemonium! Students started running as soon as Mrs. Norris liquefied, but a large cannon blast made everyone freeze.
"All students, return to your house dormitories! Mr. Potter, please remain here."
And seemingly from nowhere, Smara, whom Harry hadn't seen for close to twelve hours, appeared, sticking out of a pipe high up on the wall. She leapt from the wall as Harry shouted, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and caught the snake on his shoulders.
"Smara, you stink." Harry cast a cleaning charm on his snake's scales as he waited for the hall to clear.
"Mr. Potter, you will lead us to this reliquary immediately! If this person is hiding there, he will be found!" yelled the headmistress.
Of course, Headmistress. But it's sealed. Smara tried getting in, and apparently, whoever this is... changed the locks, you could say." Harry explained sheepishly.
All four heads of house gathered around Harry, Smara, and McGonagall as they started to march up the stairs to the second floor and into an often out-of-order girls' toilet, where Harry hissed, and a chute opened after he spoke to the faucet and proceeded into the floor. After another short hiss, stairs appeared.
In the end, another hour was spent with McGonagall and the four heads of house poking, prodding, and scanning every inch of the antechamber in front of the round serpent door.
"It's no use," swore McGonagall. "We will have to call in more curse-breakers."
Professor Weasley escorted Harry back to Gryffindor Tower, where after fending off questions about his summons with the headmistress, and once back in his bed, he fell back into a fitful doze.
He was woken up rather rudely.
"Harry, Harry, get up! We're having early training sessions all this week, remember? Get up!" called Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, shaking him out of his sleep.
"Oliver! It's not even dawn yet," the young seeker groused before getting up and begrudgingly digging out his Quidditch gear.
Once down at the pitch, Wood had to fend off his entire team's attempted mutiny. "Look, it's not my fault the Slytherin team booked the pitch specially this week to 'train their new seeker.' This is the only time slot available this week. We'll be up early training from 6 to 8 today, Tuesday, and Thursday. Friday will be a rest day before our first match." After that, Wood got out a small blackboard and talked a lot of nonsense while making stick figures do loops on the board to simulate plays. On and on Wood went, doing his best to emulate Professor Binns. After an hour of Wood droning, Harry sat on his broom high above the pitch and saw Hermione make her way to the stands and sit down. He swooped down lower and hung upside down to talk to her.
"Hello, Harry! Aren't you finished yet?"
"Just started, actually. Woods has been going over some new moves. Where's Ron?" Harry groaned.
"He's at breakfast. You know him; he won't ever risk skipping a meal. Do you have to hang upside down? You're making me nervous."
"Yes!" Harry laughed, "otherwise Wood will accuse me of not doing anything. Inversion practice is good; it helps with grip strength."
"I suppose that is true, but you best get going, Harry, or Wood will put me to work again, flicking golf balls at you." And Wood had done that several times now when Hermione was "distracting his seeker during valuable practice time." Harry laughed and sped off, practicing his usual death-defying acrobatics.
After practicing with the team, they showered and cleaned up. Then, they all went back up to the castle for breakfast, where they found out that a special Sunday announcement was being made. This meant the entire school was being gathered to hear the news.
When the students had been gathered, Headmistress McGonagall stood in front of the golden owl-themed podium from which the head spoke. "Good morning, students. In light of the threat displayed by this so-called 'true heir of Slytherin,' the Hogwarts Board of Governors and the Ministry of Education Commission have been in negotiations, and it has been determined that for now, the school shall remain open and functioning as normal. However, an Auror substation has been created inside the castle. This will allow Aurors to always be on hand and patrol the castle while maintaining their normal schedule and workload. They have been instructed to allow the school to handle all misdemeanors, but I will warn you, one and only one time, that while they are in this building, they have a duty to act against all felonies. So please, everyone, be on your best behavior. If anyone sees or experiences anything odd or out of place, I urge you to come forward. That is all." And the ex-Transfiguration professor claps her hands, and the breakfast food appears piled around them. Harry sat next to Ron, whose angry red face was stretched out as he tried to shove an entire sandwich made of French toast, fried egg, bacon, and sausages into his mouth in one bite. "Excuse me, Ron, but you do know that's disgusting, right?" snarked Harry, trying to keep his voice light, contrary to his own appetite, quickly leaving him in response to Ron's table manners. What followed was a completely unintelligible response from Ron that caused both of his brothers, who had seated themselves on either side of their little brother, to whack him on the back of the head.
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ron," said one twin.
"Yes, you're already putting us all off our breakfast," said the other.
"If you don't remember your manners, we will have to go get the good professor to sort you out," they both finished in tandem.
"And what seems to be the problem here, boys?" the new Head of Gryffindor asked from behind the twins, causing everyone around to jump in surprise.
"Nothing, Mum!"
"Just having a morning chat with our dear baby brother," the twins said in unison, shaking Ron back and forth. "Hmph! Well, do behave, won't you? And Ron, you are not a starving wretch in the desert. You don't need to stuff your mouth so full. Good morning, Harry, Hermione," she finished as she walked back to the teachers' table.
"How did she sneak up on us?" Harry muttered to Hermione.
"I don't know, but we'll have to remember that if we ever need to talk during her class. Speaking of which, I am excited for her class. Form shifting is a very useful practice, and the first permanent transformation we will be learning. I wonder what we are going to start with." wondered Hermione.
"If she's anything like McGonagall, then you'll be shaping-changing glass faces to form different shapes," said the twin on the left.
"Oooh! Well, that could be fun!"
And suddenly, from across the hall, they all turned as a familiar, whiny voice called out.
"Hey, scarhead! Want to come and see what my father has just donated to the Slytherin team?"
Harry got up, actually curious, as he called out, "What are you on about now, Malfoy?" But he had spotted seven sleek, black, finely polished broomsticks. Even at the distance he was, Harry could see the "Nimbus 2001" relieved in gold on the top of the handle.
"What do you think, Potter? Pretty nice brooms, eh?"
"I've got to admit, Malfoy. This is a very generous gift from your father, especially since you're not on the team," Harry responded coolly as the other Quidditch players of the royal houses gathered around Harry to see the broom.
"Yes, well, my father is very generous, scarhead, but you'd be wrong to say I'm not on the team. I am, after all, the new Slytherin Seeker." Smugness was dripping from the blond ponce's mouth like water from a broken tap. It made Harry want to punch him.
After a deep sigh, Harry turned and started walking away and said, "If you'll excuse me, I need to go have a chat with the headmistress."
Walking the length of the Great Hall, Harry settled on a plan. Malfoy had a rich father, but Harry was just as rich, if not richer, than the Malfoy family. Two can play at that game.
"Hello, headmistress. Before I get out of line, I'd like to ask if that," he indicated the brooms by pointing, "is legal."
"There is no school rule that does not allow a donation or gift to one particular house team, and when I tried to block it anyway out of fairness, I was overruled by the governors." She sniffed in clear disapproval.
"Excellent. Then, as the lord and warlock of the most ancient and noble house of Potter, I would like to donate twenty-one Nimbus 2001 broomsticks to the three houses that have not already received such a magnanimous gift. And I'd like the school to purchase them before next weekend's match, please."
"Thank you very much. Hogwarts as a whole appreciates your gift, Mr. Potter. You will need to come up to my office and sign the necessary parchment," said McGonagall in awe.
"Understandable. Call me whenever, although I think..." And Harry paused for a moment before nodding to himself. "Yes, I think I will donate 1,000 on top of the brooms. The school could do with updated equipment, don't you think?"
"I would never turn down donations, Harry. The abuses and running of this school have left the..." But she stopped talking, realizing Harry had assumed that she was still talking to a student.
"And another 1,000 galleons in an incidental account." That made McGonagall's head shoot up and stare at him with wide eyes, and Harry smiled, bowed slightly, and walked away back to the Gryffindor table.
Harry and Hermione spent the rest of Sunday relaxing in the Gryffindor common room by the fire, reading books, telling jokes, and pointedly refusing to help Ron, who spent the day rushing through an entire week's homework because he refused to get to it earlier. It was only with Harry's insistence that Hermione hadn't worn out and helped him. "He won't learn otherwise," Harry had said.
The next week had been rather fun. Interesting lessons in Transfiguration—learning to change the form of an object while keeping its properties the same—by taking a round glass vase and making it a cube or pyramid. And in Charms, a basic moving spell, "Mobiliarbus." Just say "Mobiliarbus" and the Latin name for an object, and it will move at your command. Both talents were deceptively tricky, yet Harry and Hermione were praised for being the first and second to achieve each.
History remained interesting with this week's lectures focusing on the basic history of early China.
Potions was bearable as Snape was still on probation. The dungeon bat was still trying to grade Harry far too harshly, but in both lessons, Harry had turned in perfect potions that he couldn't complain about.
And Lockhart in DADA had taken to acting out some of his adventures in the guise of teaching the students how to properly do things through "simulation practice, like the Muggle policemen do!"
On top of that, Harries' donation of the twenty-one brooms had the desired effect of making Malfoy angry. After all, Harry had just erased the advantage that got Malfoy onto the team to begin with. He had actually almost fought Harry after McGonagall had made the announcement at breakfast that Thursday.
"If you all could give me your attention for one moment, I would like to take this time to offer Hogwarts' gratitude to Lord Harry James Potter for his wonderful donation of 2,000 galleons and 21 brand-new Nimbus 2001s, to match the generous gift to the Slytherin Quidditch team by Lord Malfoy earlier this week!" Malfoy had all but run up on Harry, seething, red-faced in anger.
"How dare you, Potter! I-"
"You'll have your father try to bribe the Ravenclaws into letting you win, Malfoy? You already bought your way onto the Slytherin team. Can't you imagine a more original way to get back at me?" Harry said, his voice full of forced bravado.
"You watch yourself, Potter, one of these days. We'll see who bought their way onto a team during our match, Potter!" But the blonde Slytherin stormed off angrily. Lucius had written Harry as a courtesy to a business partner and told him that he had ordered his son to watch his tongue.
Two days later, the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff match had been one for the record books. With the broom advantage no longer a factor, people were expecting a nice, long, and even match-up. But they didn't account for the skill of the youngest seeker in a century, who caught the Golden Snitch after about five minutes of gameplay.
The party in the Gryffindor common room had done a lot to let off the tension that had built since the prior week's events on Halloween.
Harry and Hermione would be found the next morning on the couch in front of the fire, woken up suddenly by the large flash and acrid smoke coming from a camera that belonged to a first-year named Colin Creevey, an overzealous Muggle-born fanboy of Harry's.
After that, time marched on through November, with the only notable thing that happened being that Professor Chambers decided that the lower years had finally mastered the dueling forms and set up their first dueling practice, which did not go well.
Professors, Chambers, Lockhart, and to everyone's horror, Snape stood at the center of the dueling platform as the underclassmen group gathered for the starting instruction of today's meeting. Of course, it was Lockhart who attempted to command the room.
"Welcome and good evening to you all. Professor Chambers and myself were discussing your group, and we have agreed that you are ready to move on to actual practical lessons. We thought it would be a good idea to start with the basic shielding charm, which is a third-year-level spell, so all second years, do not get discouraged if you struggle to cast it."
"Yes! Now, the spell we will be practicing is called 'Protego.' I cleared that pronunciation with my colleagues here, so no jokes. Now, we are going to pair you all off, and since there are going to be so many pairs, I asked Professor Snape here to stand in and help, as he has, uh, dueling experience," finished Chambers in the two teachers' usual style of public speaking. Harry and Hermione made to pair with each other when...
"I don't think so, Miss Granger. Mister Potter, you both are two of the best students, so I want to pair you with someone who will benefit from it.
Miss Granger, how about you go partner with Neville over there? Be easy on him now!" Chambers called out as Hermione made her way over. "And Mister Potter, how's about you go with?" But he paused there, looking around, but Snape had beaten him to it.
"How about Mister Malfoy?" Snape said in his deep and even tone, even if Harry could make out the hidden disdain in his speech. "The two boys are well matched for each other, I assure you."
"Perfect!" said Chambers. "Now, I assume Lockhart over there has gone over the Shield Charm in class?" But the preteens snorted in unison, and they glared at each other.
"He's, er, gone over the theory, si—" Harry started but was cut off by Lockhart himself.
"Yes, I had gone to the theory. I know we were close to these practical lessons, and I thought they would be a much better teaching approach than a boring lecture and a stagnant classroom demonstration. And since all of my second years have joined this club, it just seemed the most opportune."
"Right, well then, cast a quick one, everyone. The group cast Protego. It took Malfoy four tries for his shield not to falter. Hermione's was pristine, of course, and everyone else's was a slight variation of iffy, but they held."
"Perfect! Well, no, not really, but it'll be good enough for some stinging hexes."
And at that, the group was instructed to duel, taking turns, one casting a stinging hex and the other blocking it. Harry could see Hermione waiting patiently to hex Neville, who was having great difficulty forming a cohesive shield. Ron and Dean were already trading spells back and forth, and Malfoy was getting an evil glint in his eye as Snape whispered something to him.
"Okay, on three, you two. One. Two. Three—" said Chambers, but Malfoy had fired his spell on "three," and it wasn't a Stinger, either.
"Flipendo!" Malfoy shouted, shooting a pinkish-red bolt at Harry, who had just cast the shield, but not quickly enough. He was sent flipping through the air before crashing down to the stone floor. He extended his left hand to catch himself, but he hit the floor with an audible crack as his arm broke. However, Harry, accustomed to pain, shot up with his wand raised and fired an Ascendare!
Malfoy, who had been laughing at his successful trick shot, shot up off the ground about eight feet and fell badly, landing poorly. Multiple pops sounded as both his ankles and most likely his femurs broke on the odd-angled impact.
Chambers and Lockhart didn't even have time to react to stop them, but he quickly restrained the two children. When, to his surprise, Harry snapped the restraints of magic, he shakily turned to the professor and said, "I don't like being held down, sir," before sitting down and extending his very clearly broken ankle and breathing heavily. Hermione came running to Harry to make sure he was okay.
"Miss Granger, could you please help Mister Potter to the hospital wing? And Co-" Professor Chambers was cut off by Snape, who waved his wand and levitated Draco. "I'll escort him. He took advantage of my advice to start casting early to get the jump on Potter. I think, due to the injuries on both parties, a point reduction will not be necessary tonight."
"Yeah, I reckon I can agree to that. The use of Skelegrow is enough punishment." Chambers did a long flourish with his wand and conjured a stretcher, setting it to levitate. After Harry was situated on the stretcher, Hermione called out "Mobili stretcher" and started pulling Harry to the hospital wing.
It was not a good night.
A/N: Part 2
thereader81: yea in Canon I think theu did that to try to freak Harry out after all no one knew Harry was a parcel mouth then. also, snape is being a tiny bit more respectful in my story his job is already on thin ice.skyemoor: You don't have adhd do you? I have at minimum 5 thoughts in my head at all times. but thanks for the review. I'm currently trying to find a beta ready, but it looks like the beta community is dead.
azariel218: ooooooh, man, I'm getting recommended now? damn thats that what I call motivation!
I'm not entirely sure about this chapter. I think it's to crowded with not very good segways inbetween actions.
I've sent messages to beta readers on this site, but I never hear anything back. So, if you all can leave reviews and let me know what I can improve on, it would be very helpful.. other than that I hope you enjoy it and are as excited tonsee where this goes as I am to write it