AN

We are not back.
I'm publishing the rest of my buffer, which neatly ends with year 2, and then I'm ... marking this as abandoned, sorry.

1992, 2nd year

So Harry might have miscalculated how worried his friends would be over him missing the train. The scolding he received from Daphne and Blaise – even though Rhea had apparently told them there was no need for concern – was well deserved, he supposed, considering what he had told them before about some mysterious plot supposedly taking place to kill him.

Harry was quite glad for the Sorting to interrupt his friends' tirade and the feast afterwards seemed to temper their moods, thankfully.

School resumed as usual the next day. It took some time for everyone to get back into their routines and all, but soon they all fell back into a familiar rhythm. Nothing had really changed compared to their first year. Sure, Lockhart was quite the different personality compared to Quirrel (a peacock through and through, as Pansy commented – to Draco's chagrin, as his family owned some prized peafowls), but just as incompetent when it came to actual teaching. If he would stop trying to talk to Harry as a 'fellow celebrity', all would be well. Thankfully, Harry's housemates were as fiercely protective as ever and it only took one 'my father will hear about this' from Draco to instantly shut the peacock up.

The first two months back at Hogwarts went by almost too smoothly.

Draco tried out for the Slytherin Quidditch Team and scored a place as Seeker – like he had always bragged he would. Consequently, Draco and his little group missed several library sessions in favour of attending or watching Quidditch practice, but this only served to allow their study buddies from the other houses to join in more regularly.

Harry enjoyed flying, but did not have a high opinion of Quidditch. He kept this to himself in fear of the wrath of all the Quidditch fanatics he found himself surrounded by. Draco was one of the most insufferable people Harry had ever met when it came to Quidditch.

After their team's first official practice, the rest had the dubious privilege of being regaled with stories about Draco's heroic confrontation with the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, for there had apparently been an overlap with the pitch reservations. Harry didn't believe a single word coming out of Draco's mouth, but the slowly escalating tale, complete with dramatic re-enactings, was amusing to watch.

Harry really should have expected it all to go downhill on Halloween (or Samhain, yes, Draco, he knew). Harry still had hopes this would not become a yearly thing, but they were very small hopes.

The day began as any other if one ignored the tacky decorations. Rhea informed them during lunch that she would skip the feast in favour of attending the Gryffindor ghost's deathday party and only join them to officiate the first of the traditional Samhain rituals afterwards. After some back and forth, Theodore and Millicent both decided to accompany her, hoping for an opportunity to talk to some ancient ghosts about their historical experiences.

The Halloween Feast was … fine. No one burst in to ramble about a Troll in the dungeons. Harry wasn't a fan of feasts in general as they tended to be loud and full of overly enthusiastic people and … well, the real, living bats scurrying about over their heads didn't help.

It happened on the way back to their common room. The plan was to put away their bags and get some candles for the rituals, before meeting with everyone outside on the grounds. But then Harry suddenly heard a voice.

"Harry? You alright?"

"I – Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Harry frowned, tilting his head and concentrating. The entirety of his fellow second-year Slytherins (minus Rhea, Theodore and Millicent) stopped to watch him with worried eyes.

"There's a voice in the walls," Harry said slowly. "It's hungry and … I think it wants to kill someone."

The worry now turned into open concern.

"We don't hear anything. Are you sure?"

"I –" Harry looked at his friends. "Am I the only one?"

They all exchanged looks. That was not a good sign.

"Kids," came a voice from behind and Harry turned around to watch an older student approach. "What's the holdup?"

The others looked at Harry.

"Nothing," Harry lied. "Just thought I heard something." He turned back to the others. "Sorry. Let's go."

"Are you sure?" Blaise asked.

"Maybe the feast was a bit too much for me, after all." Harry shook his head. "I just need some peace and quiet."

Hearing voices was not a good sign. Harry hoped it would be a one-time only thing or he would have to talk to Severus about seeing Healer Wright and while Harry liked Healer Wright, he didn't want to give the man any more reasons for concern. He had been doing so well, recently.

His friends kept shooting concerned looks his way, but no one brought it up again. They briefly parted ways with the girls to go up to their dormitory, then met up again in the common room. They were about to leave right behind a group of older students, when Professor Vector entered the room, calling them all to attention.

"There has been an incident," she said loudly. "Everyone is being called back to return to their common rooms."

A low murmur swept over the room.

"We are still investigating the situation," Professor Vector told them. "You may not leave your common room for tonight, but just like last year, we will allow any rituals that can be safely conducted inside. If there is anything you need, I will be standing guard by the entrance."

Another murmur swept over the room.

Harry turned to Blaise and Daphne. "Rhea and the others are still at the deathday party."

"And Draco and Pansy are missing," Daphne said. "We need to tell Professor Vector."

What?

Harry looked around and, sure enough, Draco's shiny blonde head was nowhere to be seen and neither was Pansy. Harry hadn't even noticed.

As they wormed their way through the crowd and up the stairs leading to the exit, they could hear voices by the door.

"She's not dead, stop spreading misinformation."

Harry recognised the voice as Rhea's.

"Yes, yes. So you've said," came Draco's exasperated reply. In his mind, Harry could almost see him roll his eyes, too.

Harry and his friends reached the top of the staircase and there they were – Rhea, Theodore and Millicent, as well as Draco and Pansy.

Pansy noticed them first. "What are you doing?"

Harry blinked. "Looking for you?"

"Looking for us?" Pansy screeched, making Harry flinch. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"We were about to tell Professor Vector about your absence," Daphne interjected calmly. "Clearly, that isn't necessary anymore."

And back down the stairs they went.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked.

"Following some juicy gossip, of course." Pansy sniffed. "And we found it." She shared a conspiratorial look with Draco.

"We have quite the story to tell," he added with a grin and then broke off from the group to get some prefects to call the common room to attention.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened!" Draco told the whole of Slytherin House. "We saw the message written in blood on a wall – it's right next to the girls' bathroom on the second floor –"

"Myrtle's bathroom," Rhea said next to Harry, making him frown in confusion.

Myrtle? Like the plant?

"– if you want to take a look for yourself tomorrow. Mrs Norris has been taken down, though – she was found dead –"

"Petrified!" Rhea interjected – louder this time and with no small amount of annoyance and Harry thought he heard her mutter, "Otherwise, I would have known."

"–petrified," Draco rolled his eyes, "next to the writing. Filch was beside himself."

Smiling self-importantly, Draco bowed before the crowd and hopped down from the stool he had been using to elevate himself above them, clearly satisfied with the chaos his words caused.

"And? Did I promise too much?" he asked Harry and the others.

Harry ducked his head. "What is the 'Chamber of Secrets'?"

He heard someone laugh at the way Draco's face fell, he thought it might have been Tracey.

"Oh, come one! Everyone knows –" Draco broke off with a sigh, shaking his head dramatically. "It cannot be helped, it seems! Follow me, my little uneducated ducklings. I shall enlighten you."

"Maybe we ought to join the others for the ritual first?" Rhea spoke up. "I believe they will want me to officiate again and they won't be happy if they have to wait for you to finish whatever dramatic retelling you're about to begin."

Draco heaved a theatrical sigh. "Fine. Fine! Let's get it over with, then."

Harry suppressed a smile at their antics and followed Rhea to join the ritual.

o

The story of Mrs Norris' petrification (or death, depending on who was telling it) and the writing on the wall kept the school busy for many weeks. There was a frantic rush in the library, too, that confused Harry immensely until one of the Ravenclaws told him everyone was trying to get their hands on a copy of Hogwarts: A History, for the Chamber was apparently mentioned in there.

Having read said book before, Harry tried to remember what it had mentioned but came up blank. Draco's story had been more than informative, anyway, and Harry was happy to relay it to his friends in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. He would have invited the Gryffindor that always sat near them – Granger – to come over, too, so she didn't have to eavesdrop, but he doubted the gesture would have been appreciated.

"It has to be someone in your house," Hannah said.

"Don't be silly," Oliver returned. "Just because Smith keeps bragging about his relation to Helga Hufflepuff and how his entire family was in Hufflepuff, doesn't mean the same holds true for descendants of the other Founders. People are more complex than that."

Hannah wrinkled her nose at him. "Would a Hufflepuff let a monster loose on the school?" She glanced at Harry and his housemates. "No offense."

"No, no, it's fine," Daphne said in a voice that made it clear this was not fine. "We are the evil house, we know."

Hannah winced. "Sorry."

"You are right, of course," Daphne then continued. "Our house is by its nature the best suited for something like this. Though let it not be left unsaid that evil can be found within any of the four houses. Why, there are known and convicted Death Eaters who were originally in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw."

"But not in Hufflepuff," Justin stage-whispered, giving Daphne a cheeky grin when she looked at him.

"Well, it doesn't matter what house they're from," Oliver said. "The current consensus among the students is that Harry is the Heir of Slytherin."

Harry startled. "Me? But why?"

The others all gave him pitying looks. "Why do you think?"

"Boy Who Somehow Defeated A Dark Lord At Age One Possibly To Become The Next One." Harry sighed. "Right."

"Got it in one."

o

"Again?! Why is it always the Bludgers?! I am never going to watch a Quidditch match ever again!"

"Whoa. I don't think I have ever seen you this angry, Harry."

"I got my arm broken by a bloody Bludger when I wasn't even playing and then that – imbecile –"

"Deep breaths, Harry. Deep breaths."

"So," Blaise leaned over the side of Harry's hospital bed, eyebrows raised. "Who is trying to get you killed this time? Can't be Quirrel again."

"Ask Draco's house-elf," Harry grouched out, realising too late that he shouldn't have said that.

Three people turned to stare at him – it would have been more, had Madam Pomfrey not set a limit – and Draco was one of them.

"My house-elf?"

Harry winced.

"What do you mean my house-elf? You cannot believe I would be behind this! Answer me, Harry!"

"Of course not, I know you're innocent!" Harry ducked his head. "So – er – you remember when I didn't receive any letters via owl over the summer? And we had to find different ways to work around that? And you used one of your house-elves to deliver yours?" Harry averted his eyes. "He confessed he was the one who intercepted my letters. He was hoping not hearing from my friends would dissuade me from returning to Hogwarts."

"That – is utter nonsense."

Harry shrugged his good shoulder. "I'm just telling you what he told me."

"Dobby!"

There was a crack and the odd house-elf Harry had met during the summer popped into existence right at the foot of his bed.

"Master called?"

"Explain this!" Draco made an angry gesture towards Harry's arm.

Dobby's big, round eyes widened almost comically. "Dobby only wanted to make Harry Potter go home. Dobby had hoped –"

"You almost killed Harry!"

"Not kill Harry Potter," Dobby wailed. "Never kill him! Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"

"That is such an idiotic –"

"Quiet down!" Daphne hissed. "If Madam Pomfrey hears you, she will throw us all out."

"Dobby," Draco commanded, "tell us what you know!"

"Dobby can't, master, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" the elf wailed. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, are perhaps happening already, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen — go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too dangerous!"

"Dobby!"

But the elf was inconsolable, wailing into the dirty pillowcase he was wearing, and repeating. "Dobby can't! Dobby mustn't tell!" over and over again until Draco finally had enough and sent him away.

"If he cannot even tell you as one of his masters," Daphne said slowly.

Draco blanched. "My father is behind this?"

Harry looked between them. "Your father wants to kill me?"

"I – I have to write to my father, excuse me."

Draco turned on his heel and fled.

"What – Draco, no!"

And then Daphne was gone, too.

Harry looked at Blaise, who was still leaning on his bed, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"What now?"

"Now," Blaise said in a gentle tone, "you rest and allow the bones in your arm to regrow while Daphne and I will take care of things for you." He smiled. "You don't have to handle everything on your own."

"I know that."

Blaise nodded and then made to leave.

"Oh, Blaise? Professor Snape is aware that something is going on."

Blaise turned back to him, surprise written all over his face. "You told him?"

Not really, but Severus had been there, anyway.

Harry nodded. "About the letters and the barrier incident, too. Can you update him about the Bludger? He was really upset earlier."

"Of course."