Summary of the last chapter:

On Halloween, when Harry excuses himself from the dinner table to go to the loo, he hears the mysterious snake again and tries to find it. It results pretty much in the same situation we know from canon, except that Professor Snape brings Harry to his office for further interrogation afterwards and ends up telling him what he knows about the chamber: that it was opened in 1943 and a student died, and that Hagrid's pet spider was blamed for the death. Harry and his friends decide to go to the source and interview Hagrid, who insists that it wasn't Aragog, and that the spider knows the true culprit, but won't name it. According to the game keeper, there weren't any petrifications when the Chamber was last opened.

A/N: For Bob, Amber and LilyMommy! Thanks for commenting!

Bathroom Blues

"I think we should look at the crime scene once more," suggested Harry. "That's what they always do in detective stories. Maybe there are some clues we overlooked."

Neville and Hermione nodded. They didn't have anything else to do at the moment, and the mystery continued to occupy their minds. The hallway where the writing was still slightly visible on the wall despite all the scrubbing Filch had done was just a quick walk down the corridor from the library. They passed the girls' loo on their way.

"What do you think caused the floor to be so wet that night?" wondered Neville. "The entire corridor was flooded. It must have come from the bathroom."

"That was probably Myrtle," said Hermione. "She's a mopey ghost who haunts the loo, and the reason nobody ever uses it."

Harry frowned. "Myrtle? I've never heard of her."

"Well, you wouldn't have, unless you have a habit of using the girls' loo. I don't think she ever leaves it."

"Let's check in with her then. Maybe she heard something. Or can explain why the floor was flooded that night."

"It's a girls' loo!" Neville squeaked, scandalized. "What if someone's in there?"

"I'll go check," offered Hermione and resolutely opened the door. "All clear," she announced half a minute later, and Harry and Neville saw the weirdest bathroom they had ever seen. Its architecture was quite spectacular for a bathroom – high ceilings, columns, huge windows with light flooding in, but it was in a desolate state. The mirrors above the sinks were cracked and spotted, the wooden doors to the stalls chipped or dangling from damaged hinges. The floor was damp, which, in a loo, never was a feel-good factor. An air of neglect hung over the place.

"Who's there?" asked a plaintive voice from one of the stalls. "Have you come to make fun of me?"

"Hello Myrtle!" said Hermione. "We're sorry to disturb you. We're just here to investigate."

"Investigate what?" The ghost Hermione had told them about came drifting through the door. She was, like all ghosts, completely colourless and very pale. She wore an old-fashioned Hogwarts uniform, pigtails and very thick glasses.

"The events on Halloween. Have you heard what happened?"

"No. I'll have you know, I have my own troubles, and I was very upset on Halloween!"

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Neville, thinking it was the polite thing to say. Besides, the ghost seemed close to tears right now as well, and he hated it when girls cried. "Did something happen?"

"I was at Nick's death day party, having a good time, but then Peeves came and was really mean to me and so I came back here to kill myself. Then I realized that I couldn't because I was already dead and got very depressed!"

To Harry, the ghost looked as if she was getting depressed right now, too. But should you express empathy for someone not being able to kill themself? And if so, how? Tom was no help, but thankfully, Neville didn't seem to be at a loss for words.

"That sounds horrible" he said, feeling genuinely sympathetic. "I can't even imagine what that must be like, knowing that your woes are never ending! Peeves is a right menace; he loves to upset people for no reason. Nobody likes him."

Myrtle nodded emphatically. "Yes, he had no right to say those things about me! Ugly, miserable, moaning Myrtle!"

"She seems pretty miserable," remarked Tom, "but I should object to 'ugly'. I just thought that she looks remarkably like you, Harry. Almost like a twin sister!"

"Hey- that's just the glasses! They are basically the same."

"But you're not ugly," assured Neville, ever the gentleman. "Really, you shouldn't listen to him. Peeves clearly has no taste. Just look at the way he dresses! That silly, bell-covered hat and the loud, orange bow tie he wears. He looks ridiculous!"

Myrtle actually giggled. It was quite the contrast to the morose, teary-eyed expression she had worn before. Neville noticed too.

"There - you have a nice smile!" he said guilelessly, probably because as a ghost, Myrtle wasn't as intimidating as girls of flesh and blood. He'd never have dared to say something like that to any of his classmates. "Don't let anybody make you cry."

"I like you!" declared Myrtle, her expression curious as she looked at Neville. "What's your name?"

"Neville. Neville Longbottom."

"Well, if you ever die, Neville, you're welcome to share my toilet!"

"Uhm, thanks."

"Are you always in this bathroom, Myrtle?" asked Harry.

"Where else would I go?"

"I don't know … Roaming the castle, like the other ghosts? Aren't you terribly lonely in here if nobody ever uses this bathroom?"

"Oh, but some people do. There's this little firsty who comes here to have a good cry from time to time. But she wants her privacy and always casts me out."

"Casts you out? How does she do that?"

"I won't tell you! It's not as if I like to hang out in the prefects' bathroom or the lake the whole time. It's not the same as my toilet."

"Do you know who the girl is or what has her so upset?" Hermione inquired.

"How would I know? I have enough problems myself! She should find herself her own toilet and not come wailing in mine. You can tell her that if you find her."

"So you have no idea what happened in the corridor on Halloween?"

"No, I wasn't here. Imagine that: I hardly ever leave my loo, and the one time in the year I actually do, something interesting happens. What happened, by the way?"

"Mr. Filch's cat got petrified. And someone wrote something very nasty on the wall."

"Oh! Did they use very bad swearwords?" Myrtle's tone implied that she very much hoped they did.

"No, not really. Just threats. Mr. Filch is very upset."

"Well, I can't say I mind. He's a nasty one himself, and so is his cat."

It was probably a hard-hearted thing to say, but none of them protested. Nobody liked Filch or Mrs. Norris.

"Well, we'll be out of your way again, then," said Harry. "Sorry for intruding on you!"

"It wasn't so bad. If you want to, you can drop by again some time. You know, if you need a place to cry. As long as you don't banish me!"

"We wouldn't even know how to do that. We're only second years."

"But thanks for the offer, Myrtle," Neville added politely. "I guess we'll see you around!"

They left the loo not much wiser than before, but that still… that had been an interesting experience.

"Wow, Neville – you're quite the charmer," said Hermione, not sure if she was impressed or aghast, given the object he had practiced his charms on. "I've never seen Myrtle so – cheerful before."

"Yes – she even invited you to share her toilet!" said Harry, laughing. "I don't think she makes that offer very often!"

"Don't tease! I felt sorry for her! What kind of afterlife is that – hanging out in a loo for all eternity? No wonder she's miserable."

"Well, you sure brightened her day," said Harry, grinning, and Neville poked his ribs.

*'*'*'*'*'*

Apart from the really upsetting fact that some students seriously believed that Harry was the mysterious heir of Slytherin and steered clear of him, Harry soon had a new problem to deal with: Lockhart and his lessons, which continued being a complete waste of time. They had been reading his books, but when that failed to keep students' attention or build up enthusiasm for DADA lessons, Lockhart thought he had to step up the game and make the stories of his heroic deeds more entertaining by acting them out in class for better visualisation and greater impression.

Unfortunately, he always chose Harry to act out his opponent. At first, he was happy with Harry just standing there so he could use him as a kind of demonstration dummy, but in today's lesson, he wasn't satisfied with Harry's passivity, given that he was supposed to be a werewolf.

"Now, Harry, come at me and growl, please."

"What?" Harry, who was already in discomfort at having been singled out for such a stupid and completely unnecessary 'demonstration', stared at his teacher aghast. What did Lockhart plan to do? Tackle him and throw him to the ground like he supposedly did in the Carpathian mountains?

"You're supposed to be a werewolf! You have to come across a little menacing."

"Why?" Harry asked, very much overwhelmed with the situation. He didn't like it one bit. He had never liked being in the limelight, and even standing here, put in the spotlight like this, made him very uncomfortable. But he couldn't outright refuse, could he?

"Well, to make it a little more realistic, of course! The werewolf wasn't just standing there. It came at me! It was a really life-threatening situation! So please try to act the part."

"No," Harry burst out before he could think about it. "I mean why do you want to reenact it in the first place? What will we learn from it? It's all in your books. You made us read them." Harry was getting desperate. He surely couldn't be expected to growl like a deranged werewolf and mock-attack his teacher?

"Oh, come on, Harry, now don't be a spoilsport! It's just a harmless little fun."

"He uses emotional blackmail and tries to make peer pressure work in his favour," fumed Tom inside his head. "That's disgusting, and not an acceptable means of dealing with kids! Don't do it, Harry, I'm sure that's a severe abuse of power!"

Harry was shaking and balling his hands into fists to prevent it from showing. "I don't think it's funny," he said aloud. "I find it awkward."

Neville, one of the few who did not seem to find the exchange amusing, gathered his courage and stood up. "I - I don't think it's funny either," he said, stuttering slightly and blushing in discomfort at suddenly being the centre of attention. "I wouldn't feel comfortable acting in front of the class, and I don't think Harry should have to."

Harry threw him a grateful glance. Lockhart, however, completely ignored him and gave Harry another of his patronizing smiles, though it seemed a little forced.

"Look, if this is out of some concern for your reputation as new rising dark wizard …" Lockhart said, probably intending it to be a joke. But it made Harry's hackles rise. It was no laughing matter for him.

"No!" he said, emphatically now. "I won't do it! I'm here to learn defence, which doesn't really seem to be happening. I didn't sign up for an acting class. Maybe you should try and find a volunteer. Draco seems very excited about the prospect of a reenactment of the scene."

"Good one, Harry!" Tom applauded, while Draco paled, instinctively shaking his head at the suggestion. Lockhart found himself backed into a corner, but despite his jovial attitude, he wouldn't give in.

He stood even taller in an attempt to demonstrate his non-existent authority, and, probably intent to save face, said: "I'm afraid I have to insist, Mr. Potter. I'm your professor and in this class, you have to do as I say. Unless you want to fail it."

Tom's mouth, had he had one, would have fallen agape. For once, he was struggling to come up with a fitting response, but Harry was on a roll, his temper getting the better of him.

"Then I'll fail it," said Harry with an icy voice, as he went back to his seat and gathered his books. "There's nothing to learn in this class anyway. It's ridiculous. And I don't believe you did any of the things you claim to have done in your books. You're a fraud, and a disgrace to all teachers in Hogwarts."

And with that, he left the classroom.

*'*'*'*'*'*'*'*

Shaking with anger, Harry stormed down the corridor blindly, until he found himself in front of Myrtle's bathroom again. Well, this was as private a hiding place as he was going to get, and its depressive and derelict state seemed the right background for some ranting and sulking.

"Well, hello there!" said Myrtle, startled out of her melancholy when he came storming into her bathroom. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"I got into a fight with Lockhart, the DADA teacher, who wanted me to be his role playing partner, and basically told him to shove it," Harry reported miserably. He would probably get expelled for it.

"Oh!" said Myrtle, an excited gleam in her eyes. "How very daring of you! Was he very angry?"

"He said he will fail me in class." While Harry still felt that he was right in standing up for himself, he couldn't help but worry about the consequences. Could Lockhart really fail him in DADA? And what would that mean – would he really have to leave Hogwarts?

"Calm down, Harry," said Tom soothingly. "What Lockhart did was not acceptable, and any adult with a sound mind will see that. I'm sure you could file a disciplinary complaint about him or something."

"What – with the school governor who happens to be Lucius Malfoy?"

"There are others. If things go very badly, talk to Neville's gran. She's sort of your surrogate godmother now. And don't forget Professor Snape. He'll be on your side."

Harry nodded, feeling a bit comforted by that. His Head of House surely wouldn't let him down. Though to be fully honest, he did have some bullying tendencies in Potions, too. He often threw around insults about students' intelligence if they didn't live up to his expectations. But that was different, wasn't it? He never singled anyone out, but was mean to everyone who wasn't a Slytherin. Even Neville had lost most of his nervousness around him and was able to brew a potion successfully in partnership with Harry.

"You know," mused Tom pensively, "Professor Snape could actually use some pedagogical training, too. I'm sure there's a better way of teaching than threatening or scaring students into being successful. And let's not even get started on Binns. Hogwarts really is in need of educational reforms."

"Don't worry," said Myrtle, offering what she considered consolation. "You can always kill yourself before they kick you out, then you'll be able to stay forever. You could haunt the DADA classroom and make them all miserable, too. Or we could haunt your teacher together, like I did with Olive Hornsby. That would teach him!" Myrtle seemed excited at the prospect and Harry didn't have the heart to tell her that considering suicide did seem a bit exaggerated at this point.

"Thanks, Myrtle," he said. "I appreciate the sentiment."

Harry sat down on the floor, noting that the depressing environment of the bathroom mirrored his mood pretty well. No wonder Myrtle chose to hang out here. However, he was not given a chance to work himself up into higher levels of self-pity and anxiety, because as soon as the lessons had ended, Hermione and Neville found him.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, outrage in her voice. "That was so awful of Lockhart, I couldn't believe it! I should have said something, too, but I guess there's a reason why I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor. I just sat there feeling stunned, not knowing what to do. I mean, he's a professor, and students should do what they say, but he had no right to ask that of you! Neville was so brave, I guess there's no doubt whatsoever that he's been sorted into the right house after all."

Neville blushed. "It wasn't much. And it didn't help Harry at all."

"It doesn't matter," said Harry. "You supported me, and that's what counts. And don't worry, Hermione. I know how difficult it is for you to stand up to a teacher. I guess I'm just less respectful of adults because of the Dursleys. I was struggling inside, too, and I'm still not sure if I did the right thing, telling him 'no' like that. It certainly wasn't clever to say everything else. What if they kick me out? Lockhart will certainly complain to Dumbledore."

"Harry, there's no way they will kick you out. The worst Dumbledore will do is to give you detention and make you apologize."

"I don't think I can do that. I told him nothing but the truth. Apologizing would mean lying."

"That's very upright of you, Harry," said Myrtle with great solemnity.

"Maybe you should go to Professor Snape and tell him what happened before the entire school knows."

Harry nodded. That was probably a good idea. Better his professor heard it from him. "I'll go see him right now," he said, getting up from the floor. "Thanks for your support, you all!"

*'*'*'*'*'*'*

Given that DADA had been the last lesson of the day, Harry hoped that he would find his Head of House in his office. Luckily, his knock was followed by the Professor's invitation to enter right away.

"Potter – of course! Do you realise that if I were to rank the students voluntarily coming to see me, you are at the top position – with no one even trying for second?"

"No, I didn't realise, Sir. And I'd rather not be here right now, but I thought you should hear it from me. It'll surely be all over the castle by dinner."

Professor Snape sighed. "What have you done this time?"

"I more or less called Lockhart an idiot, but only after he insisted I play a werewolf and attack him in class."

"Excuse me?"

Resignedly sinking down in the chair in front of his professor's huge desk, Harry told him exactly what had happened, how Lockhart had made him feel, how Neville had stood up for him, and how concerned he now was that he would fail DADA.

"I don't suppose there is a self-learning option with an exam to take so I could pass?" he asked with a hopeful voice. "I'm really good at teaching myself! Honestly, I would learn way more outside of his class. It's not even a challenge, given that we learn nothing by reenacting scenes he describes in his books."

"That's what he does in class? Surely, you have covered material from the syllabus as well?"

"There is actually a syllabus?" asked Tom, surprised. Harry repeated his question for his professor.

"Of course there's a syllabus!" he replied, visibly agitated. "What spells have you learned?"

Harry blinked. "We are supposed to learn spells this year?"

His professor pinched his nose and remained silent for a while.

"I bet he's counting to twenty in his head," mused Tom. "That's what I do when someone says something really stupid."

"Except you're counting to twenty in my head. I can hear it when you do so. It's annoying."

"Trust me, it's better than me not counting until I calm down."

"Mr. Potter – please describe to me, as much as you remember, what Professor Lockhart has been teaching in his classes so far."

Dutifully, Harry told him about the test at the beginning of the year, the Cornish Pixies (the only 'practical' lesson so far), and the intensive studying of 'Travels with Trolls' and 'Voyages with Vampires' they had been reading.

"That's all?" Harry nodded, pleased to note that his Head of House didn't seem to think it much, either.

"It pains me to say so, but I feel a bit at a loss right now. I have to speak with the headmaster about this. Just go to dinner and I'll let you know what we come up with to sort out this – situation."

"I'm not really hungry. May I be excused for tonight?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you may."

*'*'*'*'*'*'*

Severus was incensed. It seemed to be his default setting when he went to visit the headmaster in his tower, lately. He had long suspected that Lockhart was a fraud and idiot, but the extent of his idiocy and incompetence still came as a shock. The man had been a Ravenclaw! Even an idiot should be able to teach second years a disarming charm, a tickling charm or a full-body-bind, or explain to them how to deal with gnomes or ghouls. It wasn't rocket-science, for heaven's sake!

He also had no idea how to get Harry out of the hole he had dug for himself. Disrespecting a teacher could not be tolerated, but behaviour such as demonstrated by this teacher could not be tolerated either. But then – it was mainly Albus' problem. He had thought it a smart move to hire Lockhart – Severus had made his reservations known. Let Albus deal with it.

Severus refused the offered lemon drop but accepted a Firewhiskey when Albus offered it after hearing the full story. For once, the headmaster was at a loss, too.

"It's not as if I have a lot of option as far as the DADA position is concerned. No one in their right mind will accept it, which leads to us having to deal with Quirrells and Lockharts."

"But Albus!" protested Severus. "Defence is such an important subject! You keep warning us that the Dark Lord will be back one day, and then what? We have a generation of pupils totally incapable of defending themselves even against Hinky-Punks! How should they deal with a Dementor? Or, heaven forbid – a Death Eater?"

"Fortunately, students have always found a way to educate themselves so far. You have no idea how many secret defence clubs there have been over the years. They always think it's a brilliant idea no one has ever come up with before."

"I fail to see the amusement. Surely, education can't rely on the whims and vagaries of a few dissatisfied students?"

"The alternative would be to admit to the Ministry that I'm incapable of finding a competent teacher for the position. Do you have any idea what the result of that might be? Cornelius would gleefully rub his hands, happy to finally get one of his little minions into Hogwarts. I don't dare to think about what havoc that might lead to. There's a good reason we've always strived to keep the Ministry out of Hogwarts' business. You know that, Severus!"

He did. He was highly distrustful of the Ministry as well. There were even bigger fools than Lockhart in charge there, and the levels of incompetence were higher, as impossible as that seemed.

"What do we do about him and Harry?"

Albus sighed. "I'll speak with Gilderoy. Make it clear to him that he's not supposed to force students into acting if they don't volunteer for it. Try to remind him that we have a syllabus he's supposed to stick to. And that he can't expel students from his classes."

"And Harry?"

"Speak to him, Severus. Tell him that he won't have to do any reenactments anymore, but that he must apologize for calling his professor stupid to his face. He will hopefully see that its not acceptable. And he will have to serve a detention."