(replaces Chapter 11 of Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets)
Harry woke up on Sunday morning to find the dormitory blazing with winter sunlight and his arm reboned but very stiff. He sat up quickly and looked over at Colin's bed, but it had been blocked from view by the high curtains Harry had changed behind yesterday. Seeing that he was awake, Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a breakfast tray and then began bending and stretching his arm and fingers.
"All in order," she said as he clumsily fed himself porridge left-handed. "When you've finished eating, you may leave."
Harry dressed as quickly as he could and hurried off to Gryffindor Tower, desperate to tell Ron and Hermione about Colin and Dobby, but they weren't there. Harry left to look for them, wondering where they could have got to and feeling slightly hurt that they weren't interested in whether he had his bones back or not.
As Harry passed the library, Percy Weasley strolled out of it, looking in far better spirits than last time they'd met.
"Oh, hello, Harry," he said. "Excellent flying yesterday, really excellent. Gryffindor has just taken the lead for the House Cup - you earned fifty points!"
"You haven't seen Ron or Hermione, have you?" said Harry.
"No, I haven't," said Percy, his smile fading. "I hope Ron's not in another girls' toilet… "
Harry forced a laugh, watched Percy walk out of sight, and then headed straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He couldn't see why Ron and Hermione would be in there again, but after making sure that neither Filch nor any prefects were around, he opened the door and heard their voices coming from a locked stall.
"It's me," he said, closing the door behind him. There was a clunk, a splash, and a gasp from within the stall and he saw Hermione's eye peering through the keyhole.
"Harry!" she said. "You gave us such a fright - come in. How's your arm?"
"Fine," said Harry, squeezing into the stall. An old cauldron was perched on the toilet, and a crackling from under the rim told Harry they had lit a fire beneath it. Conjuring up portable, waterproof fires was a speciality of Hermione's.
"We'd've come to meet you, but we decided to get started on the Polyjuice Potion," Ron explained as Harry, with difficulty, locked the stall again. "We've decided this is the safest place to hide it."
Harry started to tell them about Colin, but Hermione interrupted.
"We already know - we heard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick this morning. That's why we decided we'd better get going -"
"The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better," snarled Ron. "D'you know what I think? He was in such a foul temper after the Quidditch match, he took it out on Colin."
"I keep telling you, it's not Malfoy," Ben's voice stated from the stall next to theirs.
"There's something else," said Harry, watching Hermione tearing bundles of knotgrass and throwing them into the potion and ignoring Ben's interruption. "Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night."
Ron and Hermione looked up, amazed. Harry told them everything Dobby had told him - or hadn't told him. Hermione and Ron listened with their mouths open. Ben could be heard humming in thought from the other stall.
"This settles it," said Ron in a triumphant voice. "Lucius Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it. It's obvious. Wish Dobby'd told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school."
"Lucius isn't in his sixties, Ron," Ben said. "It would of have to have been someone before him."
"Alright, maybe his grandfather."
"Maybe it can make itself invisible," said Hermione, prodding leeches to the bottom of the cauldron. "Or maybe it can disguise itself - pretend to be a suit of armor or something - I've read about Chameleon Ghouls -"
"You read too much, Hermione," said Ron, pouring dead lacewings on top of the leeches. He crumpled up the empty lacewing bag and looked at Harry.
"So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your arm." He shook his head. "You know what, Harry? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you."
"Oh, that reminds me," Ben said. "I was testing a spell that would allow for us to find certain intruders. If you three could stay in the stall for a moment, I'd like to test it."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all agreed as Ben tested his spell. Harry felt as though something was swooping low over him, immersing his body in its shadow. Ben was silent for a time as Harry felt the sensation twice more. Ben spoke in a strained tone. "Does somebody have an animal with them? These results currently seem right and wrong … "
"Yeah, I have Scabbers in my pocket," Ron stated, bewildered by Ben's current mood.
Harry himself was confused as Ben inhaled sharply. He heard a stall door unlock as Ben said, "We need to go to Professor McGonagall."
"Why?"
"I think Scabbers might be human," Ben said.
Hermione scoffed. "Don't be daft, there's no way - "
"The spell worked," Ben interrupted. "I got signs that people were in the stall next to me, but I got another signature besides you three's. I tried it three times, just to be sure."
"You could have done the spell wrong," Hermione stated primly.
"Then Professor McGonagall can confirm whether or not I was. Come on."
It didn't take long for the four to find Professor McGonagall. She was in the corridor, apparently heading to her classroom.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"I was testing a spell that allowed me to detect human presence," Ben started to explain, "and had asked these three to help me. I got a result of four people where we were practicing, and one of the signatures that I got was not of a school aged student and didn't look like a professor. I did get three that looked like Harry, Ron, and Hermione but I always got the fourth one as well. The only other being in the room was Ron's pet rat. Could you check to see if the rat's actually a rat?"
Professor McGonagall's mouth thinned. "Very well. Mr. Weasley, please, produce the rat."
Ron pulled a snoring Scabbers out of his pocket. With a wave of the Professor's wand, Scabbers started glowing a bright red. Professor McGonagall seemed to straighten a little more.
"Hand him over to me, please, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said. "Mr. Black was indeed right. Take ten points to Ravenclaw for advanced spellwork and another ten for each of you for reporting your findings."
Ron handed over Scabbers as though he was handling a live grenade. Professor McGonagall conjuered an unbreakable cage before sending them away, saying that she'd summon Madame Bones. As Ben left, he said to Harry, "Well, that's an adventure we won't have to deal with."
-Break-
The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.
Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.
On Tuesday, the school found out that Peter Pettigrew was hiding as an animagus and was the betrayer of the Potters. Harry was shocked to discover that his godfather, Sirius Black, was thrown into prison without a trial. Both Ben and Malfoy were shocked as well, though for entirely different reasons. Harry overheard Malfoy talking about how the Lordship of the House of Black was now definitely going to Ben. Ben himself was more concerned with the fact that his uncle was innocent. After getting over his shock, he raged about the injustice of a system that judged people before they were tried.
Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pure-blood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.
"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face fearful. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."
(skipping Potions, only thing of note is Ben and Daphne are staying the holidays)
A week later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited.
"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days … "
"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he, too, read the sign with interest.
"Could be useful," he said to Harry and Hermione as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"
-Break-
Harry and Hermione were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.
"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him."
"As long as it's not -" Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black. Ben, who was nearby with Daphne, reached over to pat him on the back in solidarity.
Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!
"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works.
"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"
"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear.
Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.
Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.
"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."
"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One - two - three -"
Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.
Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered or applauded, in the case of Daphne and her friend. Ben himself was applauding. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.
"Who cares?" said Harry and Ron together. Ben started snickering, apparently having heard them.
Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.
"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see … "
Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me -"
They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached Harry and Ron first.
"Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter -"
Harry moved automatically toward Hermione.
"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger - you can partner Miss Bulstrode."
Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Behind him walked a Slytherin girl who reminded Harry of a picture he'd seen in Holidays with Hags. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.
"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"
Harry and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.
"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one … two … three -" Harry swung his wand high, but Malfoy had already started on "two": His spell hit Harry so hard he felt as though he'd been hit over the head with a saucepan. He stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, Harry pointed his wand straight at Malfoy and shouted, "Rictusempra!"
A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.
"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees; Harry had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing. Harry hung back, with a vague feeling it would be unsporting to bewitch Malfoy while he was on the floor, but this was a mistake; gasping for breath, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry's knees, choked, "Tarantallegra!" and the next second Harry's legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep.
"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge. "Finite Incantatem!" he shouted; Harry's feet stopped dancing, Malfoy stopped laughing, and they were able to look up.
A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ben and Daphne were standing over their opponents, two wands in hand; Seamus was holding up an ashen-faced Ron, apologizing for whatever his spell had done; but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor. Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off. It was difficult: She was a lot bigger than he was.
"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan … "
"Careful there, Miss Fawcett … Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second,"
"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you -"
"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch- Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.
"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.
"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."
He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited - "
Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"
"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.
"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.
Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"
"What, drop my wand?"
But Lockhart wasn't listening.
"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.
Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"
The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor. A sharp smack rang out among the crowd. Confused, everyone turned towards the origin of the sound. Ben was there, palm resting against his forehead, an annoyed frown on his face.
"Harry," Ben said in a long suffering tone. "Just … just reveal your gift."
Harry was confused for a second before he realized what he meant. "But, I thought you said -"
"Yes, I remember," Ben said, glaring at Snape and Malfoy in annoyance. "But I see no solution out of this that doesn't involve deadly injury or its revelation."
Harry thought about it for a moment before conceding that Ben had a point. Trying not to think of how people would react, he called to the snake, saying "come over here and don't bite anyone." He heard himself hiss, clearly not speaking English. The snake slithered over, coiling at Harry's feet. The rest of the students gasped.
"Now then," Ben stated, returning the attention of the students to him. "I looked into the Potter family briefly and found no connection to the family that stated that they were descendents of Slytherin, meaning the only way that he'd be related to Slytherin would be through his Muggle-born mother's side of the family. Speaking of, Harry what's your view on Muggle-borns?"
"Er - I don't think they're any different than any other wizard," he said, not expecting to be put in the limelight.
"And Muggles?"
"Most are alright. Your stepfather Charles seems like an okay person."
Ben's face twitched slightly before nodding. Many people who had seemed to be previously believing the worst of Harry were now looking like they didn't know what to think or were agreeing with Ben, although he didn't like the way some of the room was looking at him. Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn't like it.
Lockhart blustered a bit before letting the dueling club go.
-Break-
The next morning, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term was canceled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, now that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey.
Harry was currently walking towards the library to meet up with Ben to discuss some of the things he revealed. Ron and Hermione had both lightly grilled Harry about his Parseltongue but had backed off when he explained that he didn't know about it until Ben had mentioned it earlier this semester.
Harry had walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was happening within. Professor McGonagall had been shouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a badger. Harry had peaked his head in and was still laughing at the look on the face of the student and the expression that the badger had when he entered the library.
A group of the Hufflepuffs who should have been in Herbology were sitting at the back of the library with Ben, but they didn't seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Harry could see that their heads were close together and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation. He was walking toward them when something of what they were saying met his ears, and he paused to listen, hidden in the Invisibility section.
"I don't care what you say," a stout boy said. "He's clearly the one doing this. I mean, you saw what he did with that snake. He -"
"- got it to back off, Ernie." Ben interrupted, sternly. "I still don't understand your viewpoint. You've seen Harry. You know that I'm his friend and that I have a better understanding of him than you, and yet you think you know better than me."
"So, you don't think he did it, then?" said a girl with blonde pigtails anxiously.
"Hannah," Ben said patiently. "I was with Harry the entire time on Halloween. I know he didn't release anything then because the only time I was in a different area than him was during classes. And no, Ernie -" he interrupted the stout boy as he opened his mouth "- I'm not just covering for him. I'd say the same thing under truth spells and potions."
"But," Ernie protested, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."
Ben snorted. "So then, by Morgana, Merlin's evil. We must tell the rest of the world this! They've been celebrating a villian!"
His over-the-top delivery caused much giggling among the Hufflepuffs, although Ernie flushed bright red.
"But," Ernie protested, "you remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know - Creevey's been attacked."
"He always seems so nice, though," said Hannah uncertainly, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"
"Of course not," Ben stated. "I will reiterate, I was with Harry for most of the day on Halloween. He couldn't have done it then. As for Colin, he was sneaking down to the Hospital Wing late at night after Harry had his arm de-boned by Lockhart. So, from what I've read about Skele-gro, first he'd be in immense pain if he wasn't asleep and second, if he was that type of person, I think he'd have gone after Lockhart, who de-boned him!"
Harry couldn't take anymore. Clearing his throat loudly, he stepped out from behind the bookshelves. Harry barely restrained himself from laughing at sight that greeted him: Every one of the Hufflepuffs looked as though they had been Petrified by the sight of him, and the color was draining out of Ernie's face.
"Hello," said Harry. "We're still on for that study session, Ben?"
Ben smiled in an amused fashion. "Yeah, sure, grab a seat."
As Harry went to sit at an open spot, Ernie hissed to Ben. "What are you doing?! You know that dark wizard killed You-Know-Who when he was a baby. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that."
Ben snorted again. "You mean whatever his mother did? Because that's the only way a baby could defeat a Dark wizard. Unless the Dark wizard is a complete and utter moron who bungles every spell."
"That's true," Harry said from his newly taken seat. "All I remember is a bunch of green light. I can't remember doing anything."
"Doesn't matter," Ernie said dismissively. "You're clearly evil. And in case you're getting ideas," he added hastily, "I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone's, so -"
"- I don't care what sort of blood you've got!" said Harry fiercely. "Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns?"
"His mother and one of his best friends are Muggle-borns after all," Ben stated.
"I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with," said Ernie swiftly.
"It's not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them," said Harry. "I'd like to see you try it."
"Can we get back to work, please? Before we're kicked out," a girl with plaited red hair begged.
"Of course, Susan." Ben replied, leading them back to the realm of academia.
Relative silence overcame the group, although one or two glares and glances were directed at Harry as he sat there.
It was a few minutes later that Harry heard Peeves cry, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"
The entire group ran out of the library at top speed. Harry heard doors crashing open as a stream of students made their way to where Peeves was. As he made it to the spot, Harry's stomach felt like it had dissolved.
Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.
It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.
"You did this!" Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Harry.
Ben smacked him on the back of the head, leveling a glare reminiscent of Professor McGonagall's. "He was with us in the library when Peeves yelled, where's your proof?"
"That will do, Macmillan, Black!" said Professor McGonagall sharply.
Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft.
"Get back to class, all of you!" Professor McGonagall barked at the students. Everyone, Harry included, scrambled away.
AN: Not really much to say. Hope you enjoyed.
Uploaded May 29th, 2020, Edited Jan 10th, 2025