4. Rumours of My Death . . .

Getting word to Hermione was especially important, so, how would he get out of this chamber? He couldn't fly up the pipes to the castle — there wasn't a broom around — and he didn't know apparition.

He wondered if Fawkes would come if he called?

He started pacing, again. If he called for Fawkes, would he even hear him? But Fawkes would probably take him to the Headmaster — whom he had little trust in, anymore. The man had abandoned him to his fate every year.

So, who could get to this Chamber besides Fawkes?

House-elves?

But they reported to the Headmaster, and were not supposed to listen to students. But the twins had told him they had convinced the house-elves to help them with some of their pranks. Which meant the Headmaster probably knew everything they did.

No, house-elves would take Harry to Dumbledore, if they responded to him at all.

Then he grinned. There was one house-elf who might listen to him!

"Dobby!" he yelled.

And waited.

"Dobby!" he tried once more.

Third time is the charm, the Muggles said, so Harry shrugged and took a deep breath to yell again. There was a sudden POP! beside him before he could say anything.

"Dobby be here!" the house-elf called, spinning in a circle to see if the one who had called was really the one he hoped had called him.

Unlike last time Harry had seen the house-elf, instead of a worn pillowcase he wore a long, ragged jumper with an equally ragged pair of shorts. He seemed to be wearing four socks, two per foot. None of the socks matched, but all were garish in the extreme, and different lengths.

The moment the house-elf saw Harry he leaped forward and hugged him around the legs, almost slamming his head into Harry's crotch.

"Harry Potter Sir called Dobby! All the elvesies said Harry Potter Sir had died! But Dobby could sense Harry Potter Sir and Doby was very confused! Dobby is happy Harry Potter Sir isn't dead!"

Harry flailed about for a moment trying to keep his balance, then stopped, his hands held up at shoulder height as he wondered what to do next.

"Umm, no, I'm not dead . . . at least not anymore."

He settled on patting Dobby on the head and pushing him gently away.

Dobby gasped and jumped back. "Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter Sir! Dobby will punish himself later!"

"Ah," Harry cried out, "No! No punishing yourself! Not for anything you do and say to me!"

They stood a moment, eyeing each other.

"What does Harry Potter Sir, want from Dobby?" the house-elf ventured hesitantly.

Harry sighed. "Dobby, I know I'm not allowed to give you orders —"

"Dobby is a free house-elf and he can obey anyone he likes and Dobby will do whatever Harry Potter Sir wants him to do!" Dobby said quite firmly, and in a very uncharacteristic manner from what Harry had heard about elves in general.

"Uh, thank you," Harry said a bit taken aback at the house-elf's vehemence. It threw him off track for a moment.

His stomach suddenly and loudly growled. He hadn't been very hungry at breakfast, and had definitely been too nervous to eat at lunch. Now that it was past dinner, he was starving. "Dobby," he said, "Would you please get me something to eat from the kitchens?" He looked around, again. "And maybe something to sit on?"

"Dobby will do," he exclaimed and disappeared.

Dobby returned barely seconds later with a platter of sandwiches, chips, and a mug of pumpkin juice. He snapped his fingers and a worn couch and table that were clearly from the Gryffindor dorm appeared, the table in front of the couch.

As soon as they were placed, though, he had sniffed, made a face of disgust, and snapped his finger. The musty smell was gone, replaced by a slight lemony odour. He nodded in satisfaction.

Harry sat and started eating. Dobby sat on the floor and watched intently, as if watching Harry eat was somehow fascinating.

After reducing the worst of his hunger and starting to feel full, he said, "Ah, Dobby, do you know where Hermione is?"

The house-elf shook his head rapidly, his ears flopping back and forth violently. "Dobby doesn't, but Dobby can find out!"

"Right," Harry said. "She should be either in the Great Hall having dinner, or her dorm room, I expect."

The house-elf disappeared with a POP!

Harry waited, somewhat impatiently, idlily studying the snake. Now that he looked, he noticed that basilisk's eyes, ripped apart by Fawkes claws, had partially healed. Instead of being sliced apart, the internal liquids having run down the creature's face, they only looked partially-deflated in the snake's eye sockets.

He stared at them intently, standing and moving closer. That could not have happened after the snake had died! It took him only a few moments to realize it was fortunate that he had killed the snake when he had. Its eyes, apparently, had been actively healing when he had killed it with Gryffindor's Sword!

A few more minutes and he would have had to try to fight the snake with his eyes closed, or suffer instant death when the snake looked him in the eyes. He shuddered at how lucky he had been. Phoenix tears would not have saved him like they had from the venom.

Dobby POPed back. "Hermie be in her room, crying," he said.

He nodded. Of course, she would be crying.

"Can you go get her? Bring her down here?"

"Dobby can do!" he said firmly.

"Okay," Harry said, "Go back to her and tell her who you are and that you are a free house-elf. Tell her that I didn't die in front of the dragon. Well, I did die, but I got better. I'm not hurt or anything. I need her help, and I'm hiding in the Chamber of Secrets."

Dobby started to nod, but then Harry said, "Wait! Do I have any tracking charms on me? Or anything else that would let someone find me?"

Dobby stared at him, squinting. "Does Harry Potter Sir want them removed?" he said hesitantly.

"Absolutely! And do you have any way to block spells looking for me?"

Dobby nodded and snapped his fingers. Then he frowned for a moment, before snapping them a second time. "Dobby has fixed it," he said, "so noes wizzies or wichies can finds Harry Potter Sir with spells."

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry said wholeheartedly. It was rather disturbing that someone really had placed tracking spells on him. Although he could guess who had done it — a certain whiskered old goat of a Headmaster.

"Oh! Do you think you could do the same for all my stuff in my dorm-room?"

"Dobby can do!" he said nodding his head so fast Harry thought his flapping ears might let him take off into the air. He disappeared almost immediately. His return was only seconds later. "Dobby has done!" he announced proudly.

Harry nodded. "Good," he said. "Okay, would you see if Hermione will come here?"

"Dobby will do!" he exclaimed before disappearing with a POP!

.o\O/o.

The faint pop! sound, and the sinking of the foot of her bed, brought Hermione fully awake from her teary about-to-doze-off state.

She sat up and stared at the strange-creature standing on her bed. After a moment, she recognized it as a house-elf. What was a house-elf doing coming to her?

"Harry Potter Sir wants me to tells yous that I ams a free house-elf," he said proudly, "and my names Dobby. He says," the house-elf screwed up his face, "he didn't die in fronts of the dragon. Well, he dids die, but he gots better. He's not hurts or anything. He needs yous help, and hes hidings in the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione stared at Dobby, slack-jawed, at his announcement.

"Harry's alive!" she breathed out in astonishment. She was suddenly wide-awake. Her heart hammered in her chest and she felt she might faint.

Dobby nodded his head vigorously. "Harry Potter Sir is alive," he restated happily.

"This isn't a prank?" she said faintly, not actually believing it could be possible he was alive. If it were a prank, she would kill the perpetrator, resurrect him, and kill him again, only very, very slowly — several times.

Dobby again nodded his head vigorously.

"And he needs my help?"

"Harry Potter Sir did say he needs yous help," he readily affirmed.

She just stared at him, finding it difficult to believe, but desperately wanting it to be true. After sitting in shock for several seconds, her thoughts racing, she grabbed her wand from the tiny wand-shelf on her headboard.

"Take me to him," she said.

He stepped close and gently grabbed her arm.

An instant she was sitting on a cold rock floor and Harry was staring at her in surprise.

Which was when she belatedly realized she was wearing her nightgown only, not her clothes or school robe — not even knickers.

.o\O/o.

Harry was stunned. He had expected Hermione to be in a hurry, and slightly dishevelled, but he had never expected to see her in her nightgown!

She scrambled to her feet and made vague motions with her arms as if she wanted to cover herself up. She stopped, looked at him a moment, then threw herself at him and grabbed him in a tight hug. It was almost as tight as one of Mrs. Weasley's hugs, but not nearly as suffocating — and certainly more fun!

"Oh, god, oh merlin," she babbled, "I thought you were dead! The dragon blew flame and you were gone! Just smoke!" She burst out crying.

Harry didn't have any experience with girls crying, especially not girls crying on him. She was hugging him tightly, his arms trapped against his body. Fortunately, Harry was no longer the shortest student in Hogwarts, he had finally had a growth spurt. Unfortunately, it hadn't been much of a growth spurt. He was grateful for even that little bit, however, since it meant he and Hermione were now almost the same height. Which meant her chest was mashed against his.

He had just enough room to lift his forearms and sort of gently pat her on the back.

While she had given him a few hugs in the past, none had ever been so tight. She had also been wearing lots more between herself and him.

Now, however, he was intensely aware of the fact that only his robes and a thin layer of cloth separated him from Hermione. She wasn't wearing a bra under her nightgown when she had arrived — no chance of missing that when the gown was not completely opaque or bulky. The flicking light here in the Chamber made it seem as if the pale pink gown wasn't even there! Not to mention the way she had bounced jumping to her feet — he had certainly noticed that!

While she wasn't as . . . developed . . . as Susan, who had the reputation as having the biggest . . . chest, he could tell Hermione was far more developed than he or any of the other guys in the dorms had ever thought.

Distressingly, though, his noticing and the continued pressure against his chest was starting to generate an awkward response on his part. He just hoped and prayed she wouldn't notice what was going to start pushing back against her rather quickly.

He just kept patting her back and striving to remember the exact wording of Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration and the five Principal Exceptions to it . . . and then he started doing multiplication tables.

"I thought you were dead, I thought you were dead," she kept mumbling over and over, squeezing slightly harder at each "dead".

He didn't know how long they stood there. All he could do was hope she didn't notice his rather physical response to her hug.

She suddenly took a deep breath, exhaled hard, and stepped back. She hit him on the shoulder with her right hand, her wand in her fist and pointing up. "Don't you dare do that again! What were you thinking? You were supposed to use your broom to fool the dragon!" Her chest was heaving with her harsh breathing. "It scared me half to death when you just walked up that dragon."

She brought up her hands and started wiping her eyes.

Her nightgown, unfortunately for him, was one that his aunt called a V-neck, mid-thigh shortie. The amount of cleavage on display rivalled a low-cut swimsuit, and the thin material did absolutely nothing at hiding the dark circles with their stiff tips that a swimsuit-top would have hidden. He knew he was blushing by the way his face got hot.

He quickly redirected his eyes when her hands dropped. He hoped she hadn't noticed where he had been looking when she dropped her hands.

She glanced over at Dobby.

He did, too.

Was the little twerp smirking?

"Dobby," she said quietly, "Would you please bring me my house-robe?"

Dobby POPed out and back so quickly it was as if he hadn't left at all. He handed Hermione what Harry would have called a floor-length, thick, plush bathrobe.

He couldn't take his eyes off the way her chest bounced as she swung the robe over her shoulders and pulled it closed.

He quickly redirected his eyes to her face as she looked down to tie the belt, and then looked around.

She stopped, frozen, finally noticing the giant snake not that far from where they were. Finally, she incredulously said, "Is that the basilisk?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he said simply.

"And you killed it with Godric's Sword?" she continued incredulously.

He nodded again. "Yeah," he said, and smirked.

She shuddered. "No wonder Ginny has a massive crush on you!" she said, staring at him.

He glanced away and nervously ran his hand across the back of his neck. He sighed. He really wished the little witch didn't. She had had a bad case of hero-worship before then, and that incident had made it almost impossible to stop. She would probably never see him as a person. On the other hand, she did admire him for something he had done in addition to his reputation — killing that enormous snake while saving her life — so there was that difference, now.

She glanced back and forth, studying its length. "And here I thought jumping on the back of a Troll was stupidly brave!" She looked back at him and gave him another evaluating look.

He embarrassedly shrugged and tried to surreptitiously adjust himself.

Hermione spotted the couch and table, and the platter that still had a few sandwiches left on it. She moved over to sit sideways at one end of the couch, tucking her legs primly under herself and the robe over them.

She leaned forward and grabbed one of the sandwiches.

Harry moved over to the other end of the couch and turned sideways. He cocked one knee against the back cushion, his other foot remained on the floor. Their knees were almost touching on the couch.

Dobby sat on the floor, again, to listen.

Neither sad anything for a few moments, as Hermione polished off the sandwich with quick and efficient bites.

Harry figured she had probably been too upset to eat anything for dinner.

Harry went to hand his mug to her, but Dobby snapped his finger and a second mug appeared on the table.

"Thank you, Dobby," Hermione said.

Tears came to the house-elves eyes as he nodded eagerly.

After finishing two sandwiches, Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry. "So," she said, "What. Happened?" she demanded

She and Dobby both were staring, slack-jawed when he related how many times the man had said he had died, and then his deaths had been reversed.

"You've died forty times?" she said, incredulously, breathless at the thought.

"Apparently," Harry said a bit dryly.

Hermione looked stunned.

Dobby? Well Dobby looked at him in admiration. "Dobby knew Harry Potter Sir was Great, but Harry Potter Sir is even Greater than Dobby could imagine!" he said breathlessly.

Harry sighed and explained what the man — his Death Agent, he clarified — had said about free-will with certain set points in time, things that had to happen. That led to the prophecy involving Voldemort, also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, and the two of them being one of those points — and Tom's soul being split into eight pieces, now six.

Hermione looked horrified.

If anything, Dobby looked more impressed. "To come backs from dead forty times . . .." He shook his head, awestruck. "No house-elf has ever come back from dying even once to finish their task!"

After relating what had been said about the room opposite the tapestry, Hermione's eyes began to sparkle in a rather disturbing manner.

"A room with a professor that is Hogwarts?" she said excitedly. She looked ready to bolt out of the Chamber to find the room.

"I'm not done, yet, Hermione," he said "We can explore the room, later."

She frowned, but settled back down.

"He also told me that some adults can see things you've done if you look them in the eye."

She gasped.

Dobby nodded.

They both looked at Dobby.

"What do you know about it, Dobby?" he said.

Dobby looked melancholy. "Dobby heard Bad Master say to Bad Master's Son thats many wizzies sees whats others know by whats they sees in their minds. Not reading thoughts, but seeing things. Never look any wizzies in the eyes, he said."

Dobby gaze flicked back and forth, as if he were looking for something to hit himself with and he nervously shifted back from side to side.

Harry cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows when the house-elf looked at him. Dobby settled back down.

"Did he mention any people he knew could do that?" Hermione asked.

Dobby nodded. "Dumbly, Snapey," he shivered, "He-We-Does-Not-Mention . . .," his voice trailed off.

She pursed her lips tightly together for a moment, then looked at Harry. "That means every time Professor Snape looked you in the eyes and blamed you for something that someone else did, he knew you were innocent." She growled. "And every time Headmaster Dumbledore did nothing about it, he knew you were innocent, too!"

She turned back to Dobby. "Is there a way to protect ourselves, besides avoiding looking someone in the eyes?"

"There be books."

She nodded firmly. "Are there any necklaces, head-bands, hairbands, that sort of thing, that are spelled to stop those people?"

"Dobby doesn't know," he said twisting one of his ears.

"That's alright, Dobby," Harry said comfortingly. "That you have told us as much as you have is a great help."

Dobby brightened up.

"Maybe this professor Hogwarts can answer that question," Harry suggested.

"Anyway, one of the last things the man told me was that I had tracking charms on me and my stuff. Dobby," he nodded towards him, "confirmed I did indeed have some on me, and removed them."

She looked alarmed, while Dobby nodded.

"I think we should have Dobby, if he's willing, to check us and our stuff every day." He looked at Dobby and raised his eyebrows in query.

Dobby was already nodding eagerly. "Yes, Dobby woulds be honoured Harry Potter Sir wants Dobby to check Harry Potter Sir, and Harry Potter Sirs things for finding charms." He looked at Hermione. "And Harry Potter Sirs Hermie, too."

Hermione gave him a puzzled look at his odd address to her.

Harry considered stopping there, but then, he didn't know want to keep any secrets from Hermione. He shook his head and sighed.

"He said I should enjoy myself."

"And you should!" Hermione said forcefully.

He swallowed. "Well, uh, he said I should see how many birds I can . . . uh . . . wet my willy with? . . . That there are quite a few who'll say yes, if only to brag to their friends." He could feel his face getting hot as he blushed.

Hermione had a stunned look on her face.

His voice got quieter. "And a few are even up for threesomes . . .."

Hermione's face had turned red at this point.

"Then he said, that with a bit of luck I could have more than one baking in an oven." Harry was almost whispering by this point, but the Chamber was so quiet that what he said was easily heard. "I'm not sure what he meant by that."

Hermione's face was quite red at this point, and she was looking everywhere but at him!

Dobby was grinning like a mad-elf, and nodding rapidly.

Harry took another deep breath and slowly let it out.

"The other thing he told me, I don't understand. As he was sending me back, he said something about how I had a soulmate."

That got her eyes back on him. "Soulmate?"

"Yeah. Soulmate. I have no idea what that means. He said," Harry frowned in thought. "He said he thought it was a girl named," he paused to think, " 'Ginger? Gracie? Granger? Luner? Lurra? Or is it Ellie? Gillony? Sue? Susie, or something like that.' " Harry was trying his best to remember it exactly.

She had a nonplussed expression as she repeated, "Soulmate?" to herself. "Me?"

He nodded. "He definitely said Granger, so I assume that means you. You're the only girl I know in school with that name. I think he meant Ginny when he said Ginger, and maybe Susan Bones for Susie? But the other names? I don't know anyone called Granny or Luner."

Hermione sat quietly for a moment, thinking. "Well, because he said he wasn't sure, you could assume that him saying Ginger was for Ginny, and Granny might have been for Granger, which he finally did. But then him saying Luner, Lurra, Ellie, and Susie throws that into question," she said, musing.

"We need a spell to find people," she continued, "and then say those names to see if we can find likely candidates. We'll have to vary the names a bit. Ginny's full name is Genevra, after all, and I think Susie is usually short for Susan, Susannah, and Suzanne — with a 'z'. Oh, and Susie is sometimes spelt with a 'z', too."

Harry shrugged. "Well, I'm pretty sure Granger means you, so we have at least one name that we are sure of."

She blushed slightly and wriggled slightly.

"But that's for later," he continued. "The question now is, what do I tell people when I return to the school?" He looked around. "And where I should say I went?"

"Well, you said your . . . Death Agent . . . said you should blame accidental magic for putting you wherever you landed," she reminded him.

"I can say I was deep in the Forest?"

She shook her head. "You would have sent up sparks from your wand and someone would have seen them immediately."

"Not if I was knocked out, like I was."

She nodded slowly, then looked around the Chamber, again. "Snakes always have an emergency exit from their holes," she stated. "So, you said the snake came out of the statue's mouth?" she looked up at the statue. She frowned. "Ugly, wasn't he?"

She turned to the house-elf. "Dobby would you please take us up there?" She pointed.

A few seconds later they were standing at the edge of the ledge, their wands aglow. The space behind the entrance wasn't that large, really. It appeared as if it was only slightly larger than the snake, if it were loosely coiled, but also deeper into the rock.

"It must have some sort of expansion charm on it that makes the room grow as the snake does," Hermione muttered, looking around.

At the back of the lair, right where Hermione had thought it might be, was a hole just barely big enough for them to walk into. It was quite long, easily longer than the pipes and antechamber that went from Myrtle's toilets to the Chamber.

They continued onwards.

.o\O/o.

Albus was in deep thought as he ate. His biggest problem was that Dowager Longbottom did not have a favourable view of him. Next came the boy's lacklustre performance in his classes. While he was clearly brilliant at Herbology, the best in the entire school, his wanded-class results were disappointing, to say the least. Herbology was the only class in which he showed any potential.

Unfortunately, Harry's poor performance in his subjects was due to the Weasley boy and not any inherent deficits. Longbottom, however, just did not appear to be that great of a wizard, in either theoretical or practical wand subjects.

But he would use the cards he was dealt. It was possible that the boy's difficulties might lie in his wand. He would arrange an "accident" to land the boy in the Hospital Wing, and take the opportunity to inspect both the boy and his wand. There might be more to work with than he thought.

He finished his after-dinner tea and started on his way to his office. He decided he would mention the prophecy to Moody, with the comment that maybe he had been wrong to think it was Harry that was the subject. After all, Neville had been born mere hours before Harry, and the Prophecy only said "born as the month dies," not "the last born as the month dies."

Both had been marked by Voldemort, although in vastly different ways.

He glanced at his monitors, out of habit, as he entered. As he had expected, the tracking charms on the boy that let Albus find him no matter where he went, were lifeless. They had faithfully tracked the boy for over thirteen years. Oddly, even the tracking charms on the boy's invisibility cloak, clothes, and trunk, were dark and silent.

That last didn't matter, though. The boy was dead.

He sighed, again, and moved to his desk. Tomorrow was Wednesday and the Longbottom boy had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs just before lunch. If he got up early, he could easily set a trap by one of the more-easily upsettable plants and have the boy stumble into it. As clumsy as the boy appeared, at times, no one would suspect Albus. Plus, Albus would be at the Ministry, taking care to make a public scene of him "fixing" the broken Tournament.

Madam Pomfrey would keep Neville overnight, of course. Albus could examine both the boy and his wand late that night for anything he could turn to his purposes.

He leaned back in his chair.

"Spiffy," he said loudly.

"Spiffy be here," can the immediate response as a house-elf POPed into the office.

"Would you please tell Alastor that I request his immediate assistance?"

The house-elf nodded, waited a second to see if there was more, then POPed out.

Fifteen minutes later, Moody came stomping up the stairs.

"Alastor, I need your help," he said as the man walked over to a chair and sat — after a few minutes of casting detection spells of one sort or another. "Director Bones has pointed out just how lax the Tournament security installed by the organizers has been," he said as if he hadn't been one of the Tournament's organizers. Then he proceeded to mention all of the witch's observations. He mentioned her suggestions as if he had suggested them to her.

"Now, then," he finished, "are there any other measures you can think of that we can use to make the tasks safer, but without removing the dangers the Champions have to navigate, nor the skills needed to succeed?"

They talked for another hour before Albus leaned back in his chair, pinched the bridge of his nose lightly, and sighed deeply with his eyes closed.

"This is a terrible tragedy," he said softly, "One that will haunt me for the rest of my life." He sighed and let his hand fall back to his side. Crouch, as Moody, did a wonderful job of appearing as distressed at what had happened as he did.

It was a given that Tom would not take kindly to Harry being killed before Tom's plans could come to fruition. He idly wondered if he would have to find a new DADA professor when Tom found out what had happened.

.o\O/o.

Harry, Hermione, and Dobby eventually reached the end of the tunnel.

The exit was under a big flat rock that angled downward beside a stream. It was arranged in such a way that when they looked back, it was impossible to see that the big rock had an opening under it. In fact, now that they had exited it, neither could find the opening at all!

They were, of course, in the Forbidden Forest, but had no idea where they were. Hermione just shrugged. "Send up sparks. I'm sure the dragon handlers are awake. They should see you. If not? Dobby? Which way is Hogwarts?"

He pointed.

"If you pop Harry to the lawn, could you then lay a back-trail to here, so if anyone checks they can find signs that Harry walked all that way?"

Dobby frowned, then slowly nodded. "Dobby can do."

She turned and stared at Harry. "As soon as you get to the dorm, send Dobby to get me and we'll check out that room on the seventh floor!"

Harry nodded. If the room worked as his Death Agent had said it did, he wouldn't be losing any sleep tonight, just getting two-week's worth of magic lessons!

Otherwise, he would have dreaded getting back to the castle and staying up so late, especially after not getting much sleep the night before. He'd end up sleeping all day!

In fact, he was rather surprised that he wasn't falling asleep on his feet right now! Could his agent have done something besides knocking him out?

"Dobby," she said, turning to the house-elf. "Would you please take me back to my bed?"

As soon as they were gone, Harry sighed, looked around, then lifted his wand and shot off a cannon blast, followed by a long stream of sparks for almost a minute. Then he waited a minute. He fired a second set of a cannon blast and sparks, and waited. He repeated this several more times.

He was about to give up and call Dobby when he heard a distant voice, clearly using a sonorous. He fired off another stream of sparks then lit his wand with the brightest lumos he could manage.

Soon enough a couple of people on brooms were landing beside him. It was only when they landed that they realized who he was.

"Harry Potter!? You're supposed to be dead! We saw you die!" one said. Harry recognized the voice as Charlie Weasley, and looking closer, Harry could see his Weasley-red hair and the tall, thin build.

They all were staring at him as if he were a ghost.

He shook his head. "Nope, I'm alive. What did you see anyway? One moment I was holding the Golden Egg in front of the dragon when it suddenly got bright and hot, the next I was somewhere else."

They just stared at him in silence.

Charlie shook his head quickly. "Why didn't you signal anyone as soon you realized you weren't in the arena?"

"I passed out immediately when I got there. When I woke up, I was in the Chamber of Secrets under Hogwarts."

Charlie nodded, "I remember Ron and you talking about that."

Harry gave them the story he and Hermione had decided would be best. He had been stuck in the Chamber for a while until he remembered a conversation with Hagrid about snakes and how they always have an escape hole. He had only just now made his way out.

"Where's the exit?"

Harry waved vaguely at the rocks. "It's hidden behind some kind of aversion spell," he explained, "somewhere over there. I tried retracing my footsteps, but they stop several steps from the rocks."

The three men spent ten minutes trying to find the exit point, but failed.

Finally, Charlie came over to him, "Hop on," he said, "I'll take you back to the castle." He shook his head. "This is going to drive a lot of people barmy."

They had been in the air only a minute before he asked, "Were you actually talking to that dragon?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I was. Parseltongue. Dragons are reptiles, just like snakes, so I figured I could talk to her. She was quite nice, really. She was very angry at you for moving her here, and very worried about her eggs. She said all four had to stay up all night. They had to keep moving their eggs to prevent vermin from tunnelling underneath them, not to mention watching out for other vermin in the forest trying to sneak in. She wanted a rock underneath the sand to protect them. It's why all the dragons live in rock caves."

"Huh," he said. "We didn't think of that," he said ruefully. "We thought the dragons' very size would keep the predators away."

Harry said nothing.

"Look, would you be willing to come out tomorrow and translate for us? We've never had a chance to talk with Dragons, before."

Harry snorted. "Right, like a wizard would be brave enough to walk up and say 'Hello' and expect to get a response other than instant death."

There was a moment of quiet. "Yeah, there is that."

"Tomorrow is Friday and I have Double Potions in the afternoon . . . so does around three work for you?"

It did.

.o\O/o.

"I wanted the boy to have a normal childhood," Albus said to the fake Mad-Eye, shaking his head sadly. "Losing his parents at such a young age, and then being put on a pedestal for what his parents did in temporarily chasing away Voldemort." He stroked his beard looking out the window but watching Barty with his peripheral vision. "That's why I put him in the Muggle world. They didn't know his fame, so he would be just another boy. It worked, for the most part. He didn't have an inflated ego, expect everyone to adore him, and expect everyone to worship the ground he walked on, when he arrived at Hogwarts."

He sighed. "I had hoped that after he left Hogwarts, I could begin his serious training, to prepare for Voldemort's eventual return." He pretended to stare at his desktop, watching the fake Moody from under his eyebrows.

"I'll need your help this summer," he said, looking up at the other man. "Voldemort is a wraith in Yugoslavia, I believe." The wraith wasn't there anymore, he knew. He was somewhere close to Hogwarts.

Moody slowly nodded. "I'll start laying the groundwork," he half-growled.

"I can ask no more," Albus allowed.

They talked a bit more about the Tournament, primarily about the other Champions and how they might fare in the coming Tasks. Finally, Moody left.

Albus was still at his desk considering his next move when a patronus burst into the room. In Professor Sprouts voice, it said, "Potter is alive. The dragon-handlers found him in the forest and are bringing him to the Front Entry." It faded out.

He stared, stunned, at where it had been.

Then he glanced at his monitors, which still showed no signs of life or location.

Standing, he disapparated.

.o\O/o.