Her body felt heavy and weak. Her head was pounding and her right arm was aching. She tried to open her eyes but her eyelids refused to obey, too tired. She heard voices around her, small murmurs that took shape, as if coming from the depths of the water.
He recognized Hermione's voice scolding someone, probably Ron, he recognized Colin Creevey's little voice trying to join in the conversation Fred and George were having, he distinguished Ginny's voice chatting with another girl whose voice he didn't recognize and finally Cedric talking to the nurse. He tried to remember anything that he could tell him because he was in the hospital wing, there was no doubt now that this was the only place where all those boys from different houses could congregate around him.
He groaned as he tried to shift on the bed and everyone fell silent, finally. The pain in his right arm was almost unbearable, it was like the bone was burning inside him, like it wanted to grow into his skin. And then he remembered. He snorted under his breath, remembering that he had to keep up appearances, remembering that surrounded by Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs he couldn't behimself,that outside of Slytherin he had to appear calm, understanding and cursing Lockhart at the top of his lungs for removing the bones from his arm while promising to freeze his toes off in revenge might not be taken all that well. Draco used to say that having negative emotions like anger or revenge weren't bad as long as the rest of the world couldn't see them, that way, if you retaliated, no one could blame you.
He opened his eyes slowly, thank goodness there was no light to blind him, it was nighttime. The people he had deduced were around him looked at him in silence and with interest, Hermione, Ginny, Cho, Cedric and Colin with great concern, Fred, George and Ron with amusement. However, among the sea of faces Harry searched for one that he did not find. Where the hell was Malfoy? Was it not his duty as a best friend to stay by his side in situations like this? There was not a single Slytherin in the room, only a Ravenclaw who looked like him, apparently a first year with blonde hair and grey eyes that he did not know at all but who seemed to be a good friend of Ginny who, somewhat embarrassed, had hidden behind Ron and looked at him discreetly over her shoulder.
"I told you I would survive," Fred said, reaching out and receiving a galleon from Georg.
"Where's Draco?" she asked, settling herself down on the bed, making her head spin.
"Detention," Hermione said when no one else responded. "McGonagall punished him for cursing Angelina when she accidentally hit you in the head with the Quaffle."
Harry remained silent, it didn't seem normal to him that Draco behaved like that, usually if he was angry he would take it out discreetly, not in front of everyone losing his temper and earning himself a detention, Flint must have been furious, surely they had been left without a chaser as punishment for his unsportsmanlike attitude and that would give Slytherin the disadvantage against Ravenclaw in the second match. He would have to talk to the head of Gryffindor, even to Snape if necessary, invent anything so that Malfoy would get off scot-free and could play without problems, but the most important thing was to talk to Draco, ask him to put into practice everything he had taught him, he couldn't go around being so indiscreet, as if he were a Gryffindor. His parents wouldn't be very proud to know that.
"And how is Angelina?" he forced himself to ask out of sheer politeness.
—It's okay, the teachers fixed it almost immediately, although we didn't know Malfoy could apply charms as powerful as the one he cast on him, it was a mix of the one that gives you boils and the one that gives you warts, it took Flikwick and McGonagall to make it disappear —said George, not at all upset.
"There was pus everywhere," Ron added, half excited and half disgusted.
—Please send my apologies to Johnson for Draco's behavior and to Wood as well, I'm sure it won't happen again... Draco... he's just a bit stressed, he's not usually like this.
"You don't have to apologize for something you didn't do," Colin intervened, "it's Malfoy who should apologize." He did seem annoyed by Slytherin's attitude.
—He did it for me, so yes, I must apologize... At the end of the match...?
"They won," Ron replied bitterly. "You caught the Snitch before the Bludger broke your arm... apparently someone enchanted it to hurt you."
"They're already looking into it," Cedric intervened. "Let's just hope they catch the prankster before your next match or he could really hurt you... they suspect it was the work of some Gryffindor who didn't want to see them win."
"We're already investigating anyway," Ron said, smiling at him. But Harry knew his attacker hadn't been a wizard; he had been able to sense the magical essence.
"Well, boys," the nurse intervened, "I'm sure Mr. Potter will want to rest, so you'd better go to dinner."
The group of boys nodded and left, promising to visit him again the next day. Colin stayed a little longer, chatting about the incredible photographs he had taken of him during the match and which he promised he would show him as soon as he developed them. Harry didn't miss Ginny's look of disgust as she left the infirmary, as if she wanted to beat Creevey out of there. He decided not to give it too much importance, Ginevra and Colin's affairs were theirs and no one else's and he wasn't going to get involved, first because Colin was a great ally, he went around always talking about how wonderful Harry Potter was, showing off his photographs and defending him from those who didn't like him. Ginny on the other hand was the little sister of a great friend, the youngest daughter of the Weasleys who had been extremely kind to him. She was shy in front of him, but he had already noticed that she had a strong and determined attitude that was intimidating; she was a natural leader and many respected her despite being so small, including her older brothers.
When everyone had left, Madame Pumfrey wasted no time checking him over before heading off to dinner like the rest of the castle's inhabitants. Next to his bed was a table full of sweets and gifts, most of them from Slytherins and their allies from the other houses. He ate two boxes of candy of all flavours and a chocolate frog and finally fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from the long day he'd had; from the match, the Bludger that had decided to kill him halfway through the match, his almost uncontrollable hatred towards Lockhart who in an attempt to heal the broken bones in his arm had made them disappear leaving him only skin and muscles and Draco behaving like anything but a Malfoy Black.
Hours later, Harry woke with a start in total darkness, giving a short cry of pain: his arm felt as if it were full of large splinters. For a moment he thought that was what had woken him. But then he realized that someone, in the darkness, was putting a sponge on his forehead.
"Dobby," he said. The elf started and moved away.
—Harry Potter sir, oh, I'm so sorry, Dobby didn't want to, but Dobby had to...
—You better have a good excuse, my bones are almost healed and I won't hesitate to strangle you.
"Dobby is used to threats, sir. Dobby receives them at home five times a day." He paused for a moment. "Harry Potter must come home!" Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make him…
—Die? That wasn't very smart.
"No, not kill him, sir, never!" said Dobby, frightened. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better to be sent home, badly injured, than to remain here, sir! Dobby only wanted to do Harry Potter enough damage to be sent home!"
"I don't suppose you want to tell me why you wanted to send me home in pieces," said Harry irritably.
"Oh, if Harry Potter only knew…" Dobby moaned, tears streaming from his eyes. "If he only knew what it means to us outcasts, the enslaved, the dregs of the wizarding world! Dobby remembers what it was like when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of power, sir. We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, that's how Dobby is still treated, sir," he admitted, wiping his face on the pillow. "But, sir, life has mostly improved for my kind since you defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power fell, and a new dawn dawned, sir, and Harry Potter shone as a beacon of hope to those of us who believed the dark days would never end, sir... And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are going to happen, perhaps they are already happening, and Dobby cannot allow Harry Potter to remain here now that history is about to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets has been reopened...
Dobby stood still, terrified, then grabbed the jug of water from Harry's bedside table and hit himself on the head with it, sending him sprawling to the floor. A second later he reappeared, climbing onto the bed, squinting and muttering:
—Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby...
"You say it has been opened before? Speak, Dobby!" He grabbed the elf's bony wrist in time to prevent him from picking up the water jug again. "Besides, I'm not of Muggle stock. Why would the chamber be a danger to me?"
"Ah, sir, don't ask me any more questions, don't ask poor Dobby any more," stammered the elf. His eyes glittered in the darkness. "Terrible events are being planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they take place. Go home, Harry Potter. Go away, for you must not be involved, it is too dangerous."
"Who is it, Dobby?" Harry asked, holding him firmly by the wrist to prevent him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who opened it? Who opened it last time?"
"Dobby can't talk, sir, he can't, Dobby mustn't talk!" shrieked the elf. "Go home, Harry Potter, go home! And stay away from the Malfoys!" and he disappeared.
Harry lay still on the bed, huffing at the sudden loss of valuable information. The Chamber of Secrets had already been opened, that could be interesting, the question was when. If the event was not long in the past it was possible that the heir was the same as in the past, once a student and now a teacher. There was also the possibility that the culprit had never been caught and now his son was the one in charge of opening it... The possibilities were endless, most of the Slytherins could well meet Salazar's standards, including Draco Malfoy. But if Draco was the heir Harry would know it; they slept in the same room, went everywhere together and were best friends, Draco would have mentioned it and he would not have bothered to suggest that they investigate who the heir was, however...
He didn't finish thinking about that thought, because almost immediately, footsteps coming from the corridor caught his attention. He thought about pretending to be asleep, but abandoned the idea as soon as he heard Dumbledore's voice. If the old headmaster was going to the hospital wing, it must be something important. He settled down on the bed and waited patiently. Dumbledore entered the bedroom, dressed in a long woollen nightgown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, holding the feet. Between the two of them, they placed the statue on a bed.
"Bring Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore whispered, and Professor McGonagall quickly disappeared past the foot of Harry's bed.
"Who did it do this time?" the boy ventured to ask, adjusting his glasses so he could see better. Dumbledore looked at him with impassive eyes and replied.
—Colin Creevey.
He heard urgent voices, and Professor McGonagall reappeared, followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a jumper over her nightgown. Harry heard her take a sharp breath.
"What's happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked Dumbledore in a whisper, leaning over the statue.
"Another assault," Dumbledore explained. "Minerva found him on the stairs."
"He had a bunch of grapes beside him," said Professor McGonagall. "We assume he was trying to get here to visit Potter." The three of them looked at him for a second, then went back to their own.
In the sky a pair of clouds parted in front of the moon, allowing a ray of moonlight to fall on the victim's face. Colin Creevey's eyes were wide open and his hands were holding the camera on his chest.
"Petrified?" Madam Pomfrey whispered.
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think… If Albus hadn't come down for hot chocolate, who knows what might have happened…" All three of them looked at Colin. Dumbledore leaned over and took the camera from Colin's rigid hands.
"Do you think you were able to get a photo of your attacker?" Harry asked expectantly.
"You seem too interested in this," the director said, opening the roll compartment.
"Colin is a good friend," he lied. Albus nodded, concentrating on the object in his hands. A jet of steam rose from the chamber. Harry, three beds away, could smell the sour smell of burning plastic.
"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey, amazed. "All melted."
"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.
"It means," Dumbledore replied, "that the Chamber of Secrets has been reopened." Madam Pomfrey put a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.
—But, Albus... who...?
"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, looking from Colin to Harry, "the question is how."
The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and lay dead in the hospital wing spread throughout the school on Monday morning. The air was filled with rumours and suspicion. The first years moved about the castle in close groups, as if they feared being attacked if they went alone. Fortunately for them, Harry's convalescence in the hospital wing had dispelled the rumours of him being the Heir of Slytherin, although some of the students were still reluctant to believe in his innocence. The terrain at Hogwarts was neutral, which was convenient, as it kept the snakes and the other houses at bay.
During the second week of December, Professor McGonagall came by, as usual, to collect the names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Harry was surprised that Draco was staying but he didn't ask anything, after all, a little company was always welcome.
A week later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were heading to the Great Hall for dinner when they saw a handful of people crowding around the notice board to read a scroll that had just been posted. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas waved excitedly at them.
"They're opening a dueling club!" Seamus said. "The first session is tonight! I wouldn't mind taking some dueling lessons, they might come in handy these days…"
"Why? Do you think the Slytherin monster is going to fight?" Ron asked, but he was also reading the poster with interest.
"I might be useful," Harry said. He looked through the crowd until he spotted his best friend's blond hair and apologetically followed him to the Slytherin table. "They've opened a dueling club," he said by way of greeting and the blond smiled at him sideways.
—You don't want to be humiliated by me in front of everyone, do you?
"You talk too much, Malfoy," she replied, pushing him in a friendly manner. "It won't be the same as at Malfoy Manor during the summer, I've learned some new tricks."
"We'll see, Potter," she replied, taking a seat, and the brunette just smiled at her.
They chatted quietly. Harry was actually relieved that his best friend seemed to be recovering from the strange illness that had afflicted him at the beginning of the year. He no longer looked so exhausted or distracted. It was true that he still wasn't eating well, but at least he was taking more than two bites. After finishing dinner, they went to their common room to take a shower and get ahead on some homework, and at eight o'clock they returned to the great hall. The large dining tables had disappeared, and along one of the walls there was a golden dais, illuminated by thousands of candles floating in the air. The ceiling was black again, and most of the students seemed to have gathered beneath it, carrying their magic wands and apparently excited.
"I hear Snape is one of the managers," Zabini said.
"If it's him, we'll probably learn a lot of new things," Malfoy said, but Harry wasn't sure he wanted to see his face on a day when he hadn't had Potions with him.
However, to his surprise, the second in command teacher was none other than Lockhart, who in his dueling display against Snape had ended up extremely humiliated, and not even his most radiant smiles could hide it. Harry detested Snape with all his soul, but he knew how to recognize a powerful wizard when he saw one and Snape was skilled. His magical power was strong, he could feel it in the air, compared to Lockhart's and he also had a certain mastery to control it. Harry was not entirely surprised, something in Snape screamed at him that he had to be careful and not only because he had previously served Voldemort, the man could see beyond what ordinary people could, between the shadows, silent, like a true snake.
However, despite all the dueling training, it wasn't a total disaster, at least the Slytherins hadn't ruined it. The same couldn't be said for the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, who in the first twenty minutes nearly set the Great Hall on fire. Snape didn't waste the opportunity to shout from the rooftops how "Mr. Malfoy" was the clear example of a wizard worthy of being called one, attention that the blond received with his head held high, earning a few reproachful glances from the boys of other houses. It was almost at the end that Snape decided it would be a good idea to put him and Draco on the main stage, Draco being the example of how to do things and Harry, well, he was the complete opposite. The dark-haired boy went up with an angry gesture, feeling humiliated but not daring to open his mouth.
"Don't take it personally," Draco said, standing in front of him, wand out. But Harry knew it was personal.
—It doesn't matter —he took a breath and calmed down— ready to lose?
"This is the tiebreaker," she replied and Harry smiled.
They looked into each other's eyes and moved a few steps away until they reached the opposite ends of the small stage. As they held their wands in their right hands, the emeralds that served as eyes for their snake-shaped rings shone in the hands of both young men. Lockhart had said that they should wait for the count of three, but they were both Slytherins and it was essential to anticipate the enemy's movements. Draco fired before the defense teacher said two and Harry protected himself with a magic shield. Sparks flew here and there, attack and defense well used by the snakes. From the crowd of fascinated students onlyWow!andAh!could be heard and Harry was having fun like he hadn't in a long time.
"Give up, Potter!" Draco told him with a smile on his lips, protecting himself from Harry's attack.
"Never!" she replied, casting another spell.
The duel lasted only a little longer, both boys had gone around the track for a full lap, Snape seemed really busy trying to deflect the failed spells from the rest of the students watching. Harry wasn't going to deny it, he was showing off for the sole purpose of demonstrating the power he possessed. Draco had noticed this and had decided to play along, being on the same level, giving him a fight and Harry thought that if he had to be defeated by someone, that someone should be Draco, Draco and no one else, because he was the only one worthy of overthrowing him in that childish game.
—Serpensortia!—the blond man exclaimed then, and there was a bang from the end of his wand. A long black snake came out of it, fell to the ground between the two of them, and stood up, ready to attack. Everyone backed away screaming and cleared the place in a second.
"Don't move, Potter," Snape said idly, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing stock-still, staring into the eyes of the angry snake. "I'll deal with her…"
Harry looked at his best friend, who with unreadable eyes waited for him to react. Harry didn't know why he did it, he wasn't even aware of it. He only felt his legs propelling him forward as if he were on wheels and he screamed absurdly at the snake: "Down!" And miraculously and inexplicably, the snake lowered itself to the ground, as harmless as a thick black garden hose, and turned its eyes to Harry. Harry was no longer shocked. He knew the snake would not attack again, although he couldn't have explained why he knew that.
He heard gasps in the room, Snape staring at him with wide eyes. The terror that passed through the faces of everyone present was etched into his retinas. The black snake advanced towards him and bowed before vanishing at Draco's command, who with a mysterious smile took him by the hand and led him out of there.