Summary of the last chapter:

Harry and Tom continue their chats with Riddle and learn a bit more about what happened at Hogwarts back in the 1940s. Eventually, Harry has a slip of the tongue and tells Riddle his real name. Tom is disappointed, angry and frustrated with Harry. They have a heart-to-heart, and Harry, realizing that he's been affected by the charms on the diary, buries it in the depths of his trunk.

Meanwhile, a serious incident involving fireworks in Potions class incenses Professor Snape. Unbeknownst to him or anybody else, the disruption was caused to steal Polyjuice from his stores. The thief uses the disguise to break into the Slytherin dormitories and steal the diary from Harry.

More Trouble with Lockhart

"I really miss the diary," said Harry to Tom, when they were in their bed that night. "Now that it's gone, a thousand questions come to mind which I should have asked Riddle while I had the chance. For instance, what he knew about the Avada Kedavra curse."

"I admit I'm torn. I didn't like you conversing with him all the time like he was your new best friend. In that regard, I'm glad he's gone. But strangely, I miss the diary, too. It doesn't make any sense."

"It must be the charms on it. They make you want to have it. That's why whoever had it before us regretted having thrown it away and stole it back."

"Do you think Riddle conversed with them too?" wondered Tom. "He never said so."

"Another thing I never asked," Harry realized, dismayed. "Why didn't I?"

"Because he was doing most of the asking. But we shouldn't have relied on his answers anyway. We can still do our own research, like we always did, and find out about the Avada Kedavra and how it affects a body it's cast on. Isn't it funny how similar the incantation is to 'Abra Kadabra' which Muggles use when they pretend to be wizards casting spells?"

"Now that you mention it ..."

Harry's and Tom's curiosity about the curse Voldemort had used had been piqued. Admittedly, asking their DADA teacher wasn't really a logical approach when said teacher happened to be Lockhart. Still; Harry thought that the workings of the death curse might be common knowledge, and since he had just had a DADA lesson and the teacher was right there when he was ruminating about it again, he decided to try and ask. After all, Lockhart had been a Ravenclaw, and after Dumbledore's one-on-one, he had actually managed to teach them a few useful charms, like the tickling charm and the full-body-bind. Harry figured that in combination, those two spells were almost as good as a torture curse. If he ever came across Voldemort again, he'd be in for a surprise.

So Harry approached his teacher's desk after the other students had left, hoping that he might be able to answer his very specific question. "Professor Lockhart …"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I've been wondering about a curse we have not yet discussed in class … "

"Why, yes, of course! If you have any questions, ask away! I'm always happy to help our future generation to educate themselves. That's why I'm here after all: To share my vast knowledge on this subject with you!"

"Well, then, could you explain to me how exactly the Avada Kedavra curse works?"

Lockhart blanched. "What? Harry … that's an Unforgivable!"

"I know. I'm not asking to learn it, I just want to know how it works."

"Absolutely not!" Lockhart shook his head and put on a false, patronizing expression. "Now, I understand that you're basking in the attention you've been getting …. Your tragic past, your parents' violent death, and being hailed the hero of the wizarding world whose secret powers bested a dark lord – it's enough to go to anybody's head. But with all the rumours about you being the heir of Slytherin and people thinking that you're a dark wizard in the making, do you really want to pour oil into the fire?"

At the mention of his parents' death, Harry saw red. How dare he use that against him! It was really beyond the pale. "I'm not enjoying the attention!" he shouted angrily. "I've never been! And I'm not a dark wizard in the making!"

"Well, many would say that evidence suggests the contrary. Let me give you a piece of advice …"

"No!" Harry, very much regretting his decision to ask this sorry excuse for a teacher for anything, raised his voice even further. "I don't want any more advice from you if that's what you're thinking! I very much doubt you have any advice to give anyway. I bet you don't even know how to cast the Avada Kedavra! Well, I'm good at self study, I'll find out!"

Enraged, Harry stormed out of the classroom, ignoring the gaping and gasping sixth year students who had gathered in the corridor for their next lesson. How dare Lockhart accuse Harry of being an attention-seeker, when Lockhart himself was the very epitome of the word!

"I don't know why you even bothered to ask him," said Tom. "After all, the man was too stupid to use a shield charm and block Professor Snape's Expelliarmus. Makes you wonder how he even got his NEWTS."

"Probably by cheating!" spat Harry angrily. "Though one would think someone would remember and speak up when he got famous."

"Maybe he's rich enough to pay hush money. Let's get your invisibility cloak and search the Forbidden Section after dinner. We've always got the best results when self-studying anyway."

*'*'*'*'*'*

Harry's chat with Lockhart had unexpected consequences. By evening, rumours were flying all over Hogwarts again: Harry had got into another fight with the Defence teacher. Harry had accused him of being incompetent. And the worst yet: Harry had threatened him with the killing curse!

Hermione and Neville were shocked when they met in the library after dinner. "Harry, just what did you do? How can people claim such ridiculous nonsense?"

Harry waved them off. "It was just a misunderstanding. I asked him if he could teach me about the Avada Kedavra curse, but he said he wouldn't, and that I was a dark wizard in the making." He told his friends what exactly their teacher had said, and how upset it had got him. "I told him I would find out by myself and left his office."

"But Harry!" squeaked Hermione. "Why would you want him to teach you the death curse?"

"I didn't want him to teach me how to cast it!" Harry snapped. "Teach me ABOUT it – how it works, what exactly it does. It's just scientific interest. Professors are supposed to answer pupils' questions, aren't they?"

"I don't think that was a wise move. Now they're all talking about you being Slytherin's Heir again."

"You know what – let them! It's too ridiculous to even comment. Or do you know any second years who go and throw around death curses? There's nothing I can do about people's stupidity except not care anymore."

Looking round to see if they were unobserved, Harry pulled his invisibility cloak out of the new backpack he had mail ordered. It was much better than his old one: Made of leather and equipped with the same charms as his trunk. Actually, even better ones, like the featherlight charm. It hadn't been quite so outrageously expensive on a backpack as on a trunk.

"What are you doing with that?" asked Hermione, frowning at his cloak.

"Going into the restricted section. Finding a book on the Unforgivables."

"Harry, I hate saying it, but you're a bit insane," said Neville. "If they catch you, you'll be in dire straits."

"If they catch me, Dumbledore will have to explain why he gave me an invisibility cloak. At worst, I'll lose points and get a detention. So what?"

Hermione gnawed at her lips, looking more worried than disapproving. "Neville's got a point. What has got you acting so rebelliously lately?"

"I'm in a sour mood. Lockhart pissed me off. And so do all the gossip-mongers." And with that, Harry pulled the cloak over his head and vanished from sight. "Don't wait for me," he told his friends. "I'll be a while."

It took quite some time to even find the right books. Harry wished he knew some detection spells to determine in advance if a given book would scream or try to bite him, or if it would sound an alarm. As he didn't, he could only hope for the best. Finally, he found a promising looking tome that thankfully was peaceful. Harry sat down at one of the small desks mounted along the line of bookshelves in the narrow row and began to read.

There were three Unforgivables – the Imperio, the Cruciatus and the Avada Kedavra. Apparently, they were Unforgivable because there were no defence spells against them. You couldn't block an Avada (unless with a solid object as a shield), but at least it delivered a painless death. Harry would much prefer it over the Entrails-Expulsion-Curse, which was just as deadly, but strangely not an Unforgivable.

The incantation of Avada Kedavra, Harry read, caused a blindingly intense green bolt of light to shoot from the end of the caster's wand, which, on contact with the victim, resulted in instant death. There were no secondary effects; the victim simply dropped dead for no biological reason.

"It says here that the Avada rips the soul out of the victim's body," Harry read, wide-eyed. "The body only dies in consequence of that. Tom, that means it's just like I said: The curse left my body soulless - free for the taking!"

"Then why did your soul move back into it instead of going to heaven?"

"Don't know," mused Harry, "maybe Voldemort didn't cast the spell correctly?"

"One would think that the darkest wizard of his time would know how to cast a killing curse …"

"The supposedly greatest DADA expert doesn't know how to counter an Expelliarmus," argued Harry, though admittedly, it wasn't the best example. "It seems that a lot of tales about famous wizards are greatly exaggerated. But whatever the reason – we now have our answer: My soul was supposed to leave my body, yet it remained where it was. And yours was reincarnated into my body for some reason. It's like I was fated to die and didn't."

"That's creepy. How long do you think Riddle has been dead in 1981?"

"I've no idea how long souls stay wherever souls are before they get reincarnated. And most likely, we will never know as long as we live."

Harry turned back to the book to see if there was anything else, but the next paragraph was about the Imperious Curse. "That's interesting. It says here that while it can't be countered, it can be resisted, but only …"

Harry didn't get to tell Tom what the book had to say about resisting the curse as there was some commotion in the not forbidden section of the library. Professor Snape's voice rang loud and clear in the silence.

"Where is he?" he demanded emphatically, making Harry suspect that he was repeating a question he had asked before.

Harry hastily put the book away and edged closer to where the voices were coming from. It was indeed his Head of House, who stood threateningly before Hermione and Neville, who, for some reason, were still hanging about. By now, it must be past curfew. Why had they stayed when he had told them not to?

"I'm asking you one last time, Miss Granger: Where is Harry Potter? Don't lie to me, girl!"

Before Hermione could get herself in trouble by lying for Harry, Harry quickly pulled off his invisibility cloak and came into view.

"I'm here, Professor."

Professor Snape swung around, his coat billowing. "Mr. Potter! In the Forbidden Section, no less. Care to explain what you were doing there?"

"Research," said Harry stubbornly. "I wanted to know how the Avada Kedavra worked, and Lockhart wouldn't tell me."

"You were researching the killing curse?" His Head of House stared at him as if he had grown a second head. "Please enlighten me as to why?"

Harry was sick of having to explain himself to people who would believe the worst of him. "Well, if I'm to be a dark wizard, I need to know all about it, don't I?" he said petulantly, which made Neville slap a palm to his face and shake his head. Hermione just gaped at him, shocked to hear him speak to his favourite teacher in such a tone of voice.

"Five points off Slytherin for disrespect," said Professor Snape with an icy voice. "I have no idea what has got into you, Potter, but this is no laughing matter." Harry hung his head, feeling abashed. His guardian didn't deserve this, certainly not after defending him against others and believing him in the first place.

"I'm sorry," he said ruefully.

Professor Snape shook his head resignedly. "Come with me, Potter. We have a situation."

That made Harry raise his gaze in concern. "What situation?" he asked, alarmed.

"One in which the teacher you threatened with an Avada after classes was found lying lifeless on his office floor by a student about a quarter of an hour ago."

Harry sucked in a breath. "Lockhart's dead?"

"No. Just petrified. But after your stunt today, we'll probably have to exhibit him in the entrance hall to convince people of that. Now come along."

Hermione threw him a sympathetic glance, while Neville looked scared. "You two as well," ordered the professor. "Given that the heir is active again, we can't take any chances."

*'*'*'*'*'*

In Lockhart's office, Harry and Tom stared at the sight in front of them with a most peculiar mix of dread and morbid fascination. The reason for this ambiguity lay prone before them, right in front of a manhigh mirror and in the perfect pose for a picture no less: both hands on his hips, shoulders straight and his chin high - with a very white, charming smile on his face.

"Well, I guess we can all imagine how that happened …" Professor Snape said sarcastically. Harry had the ridiculous thought that if they painted Lockhart white, they could indeed put him on a pedestal in some alcove and everyone walking by would think him a statue.

"And he'd be much more useful that way, too," added Tom pensively.

The headmaster stroked his beard, looking worried. "Whatever attacked him must have appeared behind him." They all turned and looked to where the creature must have come from. There was nothing there. No hidden door, no closet, just a corner formed by two solid walls.

"The door was closed when we found him," said Professor McGonagall. "How did the attacker get in without being noticed by Gilderoy?"

"I think there is just one possible answer to that question," Severus replied. "They were already in his office when he posed in front of the mirror. The monster is either so small that he failed to notice it or the mysterious heir must have disillusioned it. Or the monster story is a hoax and there's a dark wizard loose in the castle. It wouldn't be the first time."

Minerva frowned. "So we could have an invisible monster or a disillusioned dark wizard running amok in the hallways?"

"No, Minerva, I'm sure that the petrified victims have seen whatever attacked them," said the headmaster, rubbing his beard. "Mrs. Norris had a look of fright in her eyes – her hair was standing on end. And Mr. Creevey had raised his camera to take a picture of it. Which is quite astounding, if you think about it."

"I don't think it is," offered Harry. "Colin's a Muggleborn. As first years, we have too little knowledge of the wizarding world to know what to be afraid of. Take ghosts, for instance. A Muggle would probably have a heart-attack if he saw one. In the wizarding world, they are treated as something perfectly normal. So are the giant squid and the goblins. If Colin saw a Manticore waiting for him at the top of the stairs, he would probably have thought 'cool', raised his camera and taken a picture to show his parents. He wouldn't have known that a manticore inside the castle wasn't normal, when so many weird things are."

"Interesting point!" said the headmaster. "Now if we only knew what Mr. Colin might have found so fascinating that he wanted to take a picture of it..."

Harry thought that with Colin, it could have been anything. He had only ever seen the young Gryffindor vibrating with excitement.

"Why was Professor Lockhart attacked?" wondered Neville. "He's a half-blood!"

"I'm afraid this might have something to do with your friend here," the headmaster answered gravely. "You had another altercation with him, Harry? There are the wildest rumours about you having threatened him with the killing curse ..."

Sighing, Harry once again explained what had happened in Lockhart's office and why he had been so upset about it.

"Understandable," said the headmaster with a kind voice. "But tell me, Harry, why were you researching the Unforgivables to begin with?"

"Because Voldemort tried to kill me with the Avada and failed for some reason. I wanted to understand why."

Dumbledore's eyes lit up with surprise, then he shook his head regrettably. "I'm afraid you won't find what you're searching for in those books, Harry, as the answer is a bit more complicated. Remember what I told you about your mother's protection?"

"You said something about her love protecting me and staying with me. Forgive me, but I was looking for something a bit more scientific."

The headmaster smiled at that. "I see. The scientific answer would be 'Sacrificial Protection'. It's a form of blood magic, Harry."

Harry remembered his conversation about that with Riddle. "But Sir – isn't any kind of magic involving blood and sacrifice considered dark?"

"Nowadays, it's indeed a branch of magic frowned upon. But I guess no one would call a mother who gives her life for her own child a dark witch. So there are always special circumstances to consider."

Harry nodded. That made sense. Riddle would have agreed. "So you think the heir attacked Lockhart because I had a fight with him today? So I would look like the culprit?"

"That's my best guess at the moment. And I'm afraid the heir's plans are bearing fruit. Please, Minerva, escort Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom to their dorms. Severus, you should accompany Mr. Potter to the dungeons. We'll meet in my office to confer. I'll contact Pamona and Filius as well."

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

About half an hour later, four very concerned Heads of House were gathered in the headmaster's office, two of which were being briefed on recent events.

"I'm afraid this will not look good on Harry," said Albus wearily.

"It's not going to look good on you either, Albus," Filius pointed out. "Two students and a teacher petrified. Parents of Muggleborns might not be able to raise hell on you by contacting the governors or the Ministry, but you can't keep Lockhart's petrification a secret. Lucius Malfoy will try to have you suspended."

"I'm sure he will. But he's only one of twelve governors. I'm confident that I still have the others' support."

Severus wasn't so sure about that. If Lucius had been planning this since the beginning of the school year, he probably had some aces up his sleeve. It had been a clever move of Albus to get Skeeter on board, but the fact that she was obviously a Lockhart fan could easily backfire on them now.

"What about DADA? I'm not saying it's going to make a difference whether the students have Lockhart or no teacher at all, but the Ministry is going to see things differently. Given the trouble you had finding someone for the position, Fudge might just force some idiot from the Ministry upon us. The very thing you've been trying to avoid all these years."

"Indeed. We can't allow that to happen, especially now. I see only one solution. You have to take over DADA, Severus."

"Me?" The Potions Professor stared at his employer, aghast. "I didn't know that you wish to get rid of me, Albus. Why didn't you just say so? I'd be happy to hand in my resignation."

"I hardly wish to get rid of you, my boy! Despite your horrible classroom attitude, you are one of our best teachers – the potion marks of our NEWT students are proof of that."

"Then why do you want me to teach DADA – a position that has a habit of terminating contracts early one way or another?"

Albus smiled at him. "Oh, I don't believe you're in any danger. You'll only teach it until the summer. I hope I'll be able to find a new teacher by then. This is a bit short notice. The position does need some persuasion."

"And what about potions?" asked Severus. Anyone competent in potion making was better advised to earn his money by doing exactly that rather than try and teach the craft to dunderheads. Severus himself surely wouldn't ever have considered it, hadn't certain circumstances forced him to accept a teaching position. He doubted there were many other competent potion masters out there that Albus had an emotional hold on.

"I'll be paying Horace a visit and ask him to come out of his retirement. I'm sure I can tempt him. It's only for a couple of months, after all."

Ah, yes – bribery! That would probably work. Horace was a collector of people. Coming back for two months of teaching and being given the opportunity to make friends with Harry Potter? It was a sure deal. He'd have to be way more subtle than Lockhart, though, given how badly that had ended.

"Well, it seems you have your hands full, Albus," commented Minerva. "Silvanus is going to retire by the end of the school year. You'll have to find a replacement for him as well."

"That's one of my lesser worries – at least the Care of Magical Creatures position isn't cursed."

Severus' thoughts were on a more imminent problem. "We need to put safety measures in place. Until the culprit is caught, younger students will have to be accompanied from one class to another by teachers."

"How's that going to protect them when we don't know what the danger is?" Pomona asked sceptically.

"The circumstances in which the victims were attacked indicate that the attacker was lying in wait for them. A teacher – or even the older prefects – can cast the 'Revelio' charm to make sure a corridor is empty before entering it. Besides, if the heir is a student, he can't lie in wait in the castle corridors if all students are accounted for at all times."

"For how long are we supposed to keep that up?" Minerva wanted to know. "It'll take a lot of time to walk the students back and forth between classes. And what do we do the rest of the time?"

"It's only until the Easter holidays. I suggest that we send all children home this year. That way, we can search the castle from top to bottom and try to find this mysterious chamber – if it exists at all."

Filius looked worried. "And if we don't find it?"

"That, my dear friends," said the headmaster gravely, "is something I prefer to not even consider at this point."