A/N: reveiw responses on bottom
Harry woke up in the hospital wing, a painful tingle going up his left leg and down his right arm as that horrid potion did its job. Skelegrow, Harry thought, had to be the worst-tasting potion ever produced by wizardkind. He had been forced to drink a full five-ounce dose to completely regrow the bones in his arm, wrist, leg, and ankle. They had all been so badly damaged that Vanishing them and regrowing them was the most effective solution.
When Harry woke, he realized his face was wet and there was a subtle weight next to him. Curious, Harry cracked his eyes open and saw sitting on his bed, wiping his forehead with a damp rag, was an elf, but not one of his elves; it was someone else entirely.
"Dobby, what are you doing here?" Harry whispered to the frightened elf.
"I told you, Dobby, I had to come back. Hogwarts is my home. I belong here," whispered Harry.
"Be that as it may, sir, you should not have come back. Dark things are to happen this year—perhaps are happening right now. Sir, you must not be here, not now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets will be open once more, sir." Dobby seemed to have realized he had crossed some boundary because he had started hitting himself as hard and loud as he could with a bedpan that Harry had no clue where the small elf had procured.
"Dobby, stop! Dobby!" Harry was wrestling with the elf as well as he could with one arm and trying to keep his voice low. Harry managed to pin the small elf down. "Dobby, calm down. The Chamber can't be that much of a threat anymore. My familiar, Smara, is the so-called monster from that chamber. She won't hurt anyone, okay?"
"Oh sir, I mean no disrespect, but there are other dangers in the chamber that could do worse than even the king of serpents could do, si—" Dobby flicked his head toward the door that had just burst open, and the elf vanished.
Through the doors came a small crowd of people escorting a small body as it levitated to a bed. Whoever the student was, for it was a student—they were too small to be an adult—was limp and colorless. Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the hospital, flung herself out of her office and started bustling around the newly filled bed.
"Where did you find him again, Lockhart?" asked the mead mistress.
"Third floor, just past the statue of that one-eyed old crone, Gunhilda. I think he was sneaking down here to visit Potter; he had a bowl of grapes next to him."
"And the lad's camera? What of it?" asked Flitwick.
"Smashed to pieces, I'm afraid. Whoever attacked him didn't want to risk a picture getting developed."
"Well, Poppy, is there anything you can find?" the head Scott's woman asked.
"Well, he's not petrified or immobilized. His brain scan doesn't even indicate sleep." She then vanished the boy's clothes and flipped him onto his stomach. The boy rolled limply. "But there is an odd runic array carved into the skin of his back. I don't know the runes, but something is preventing him from waking, bleeding, or doing anything. Even if I heal them, they just reopen. Snape, you're the resident Dark Arts expert here. Do you have any idea?"
Snape strolled out of the darkness and into a strip of moonlight. "There are, of course, many dark rituals that will do this to their victims to prevent the sacrifice from fighting or escaping. I will need to research which ones require the necromantic runes to do so. I am no expert, but I know that this rune is for life, and this one is for transfer or move. I think I see a seal here. The best we can do for him now is to keep energizing potions in his system at all times. We don't know the rate of whatever this rune set is trying to do." After a moment of silence, he swept from the hall, disappearing into the darkness. Harry saw the teachers look in his direction, and he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep as best he could.
At 8 o'clock the next morning, Harry sat in his bed in the hospital wing while Hermione and Madam Pomfrey fussed over him. He looked and felt dead on his feet. It had taken Harry hours to fall asleep again after the teachers left. Not only was Dobby's visit on his mind, but also the fact that Colin Creevey (at least he assumed it was Creevey—he didn't know anyone else to carry around a camera) was lying in the hospital as if dead. And not to mention, it felt like his arm had been filled with white-hot needles instead of bone. Hermione was more understanding of the lack of sleep, but the fussy healer was talking about keeping him until the end of the day for observation. After she had cleared Malfoy immediately, there was zero chance Harry was going to let her keep him any longer.
"Madam Pomfrey, I promise, I'm just tired. Having your bones regrow hurts, and I woke up partway through the night when—" But Harry stopped and looked over at the curtained-off bed.
"Oh, if you insist, Mr. Potter, but if you feel extra tired or your arm or leg starts hurting again excessively, I want you to come straight back here. And, Miss Granger, ensure that he takes it easy—no running, no fighting, and when he takes the stairs, I want as much weight off that leg of yours as possible for the next three days." After that, she force-fed him another, thankfully smaller, dose of Skelegrow to help heal the microfractures that will occur as Harry's day progresses, and she handed him a note excusing him from extraneous activities for the next three days.
Over the next few days, the school rumor mill spoke almost exclusively of the attack on the Gryffindor first year. But aside from the new presence of a team of highly trained Gringotts curse-breakers taking up residence in the school to work daily on unlocking the Chamber, nothing new happened. Although Ron was having a rotten time of it as his older brother—ex-Prefect, ex-Head Boy, current record holder for the highest-scored N.E.W.T. total, and general favorite of every staff member who knew him—Bill was back at Hogwarts as the junior member of the elite squad of curse-breakers. Bill had come into the Gryffindor common room and done what even Mrs. Weasley had not yet done: publicly dressed Ron down about his grades.
"BUT-"
No! Ron, I don't care about your excuses! They know, your friends know, and your family definitely knows about our financial situation. We've been drowning in debt for three generations. Sending you here is a massive drain on the family finances, Ron! The tuition for this school is not an insignificant sum, and Mom and Dad have to pay it five times, Ron, FIVE! Even with Dad's salary, Mom's pay package from working here now, tack on the money that Charlie and I send every week to help, and Mom and Dad still starve to give you an education! nothing but pain and hunger and sacrifice just to cover the debts of educating us and great grandfather billius' gambling debts, and I walk in here to see my family and see you not only not doing your homework but arguing with your two best friends about not caring about school while playing fucking chess with yourself as an excuse! Why, Ron, do you think you're entitled to come here to waste mum and dad's and mine and Charlie's money with your idiocy and laziness!
A downtrodden Ron had been staring at his feet. "No, but—"
"But nothing, Ron." Bill had stopped yelling. "Mum, Percy, the twins, and I are all too busy to hold your hand and force you to do your work. So I'm going to give you the final bit of motivation that I can. If your grades haven't remarkably improved by the end of the year, I'll intercede on Dad's behalf as the next warlock of our house, and I will bar you from attending school. We have much better things that your tuition money can go to if you're not going to use it. I'm sorry, Ron, we can't afford second chances."
A red-faced Ronald Weasley ran up the boys' stairs and was swiftly followed by his school bag that Bill magicked to follow him. Then the three other elder Weasleys gathered around him, and Harry could barely make out them quietly discussing Ginny.
The next day, Harry sat eating breakfast when the headmistress called out.
"Excuse me, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, could you please come to the staff table?"
Heaving a deep sigh and wondering what he had done, he made his way up to the front of the hall. Standing there with Malfoy next to him, the headmistress gazed at them imperiously.
"At this morning's staff meeting, I was informed of the full details of what happened in the dueling club that led to both of your injuries, and it was agreed that your punishments would be amended. Mister Malfoy, I have placed a zero-tolerance policy on bullying and fighting, so I will be amending your punishment from "pain served," as Professor Chambers put it, to five nights of detention with Hagrid, cleaning the school without magic. As it was you who started the duel early and not only used the wrong spell but a spell that could have led to even more serious injury had Harry landed differently, your wand privileges have also been suspended for the week. Your teachers have been given second-hand wands to give to students who lose wand privileges for in-class practice."
"You can't do that!" Malfoy shouted, interrupting McGonagall. "When my father hears about this..."
"Twenty points from Slytherin, Mister Malfoy," you will find that I can take any pupil's wand I feel deserves it. And your father has already been told of your punishment."
"Mr. Potter, you will serve two nights of detention as well, one with Professor Weasley and one with Professor Lockhart. You will keep your wand only because you did not start the fight."
"Yes, Professor, I understand. With whom will I serve my detention?" asked Harry.
"It'll be me tonight and tomorrow, dear, and Lockhart on Friday," said Mrs. Weasley.
With Harry, returned to his seat, he relayed his detentions to Hermione. Hermione playfully growled while digging something out of her bag. "Oh, Harry, I just finished this, and you're already making me revise it," she said, tutting. It was a timetable for studying for their midterm exams that were now only four weeks away.
"Hermione, is a four-week review period really necessary for our midterms?" Harry whined.
Hermione began to pat his head. "Of course, it's not necessary, but if we start reviewing the basic things now, then we can focus on reviewing the newer information we are taught in the coming weeks!"
Harry groaned and dropped his head onto the table. "Sometimes I don't like how much sense you make."
The rest of the day leading up to Harry's first detention was actually rather exciting. His first class of the day was Charms, where they continued their current unit on cleaning and other charms that were useful for keeping house. Harry had already mastered the Scourgify spell that lathers a target with fresh-smelling soap bubbles, so he spent the double period walking around the class with Hermione, who had also mastered the spell, and helping the students who were struggling. Ron was, in Harry's opinion, already making great strides with his brother's threats as motivation. He had even managed to clean his entire grime-covered cutting board by the end of class. Just as well, because the next class was Potions.
potions class was tolerable. snape was still on probation, a fact that obviously grated on the sour man's nerves. but he led the class through the steps to brew a fun little potion called a bouncing beverage.
"This potion, invented by a sneak thief called Spring-heeled Jack, was invented in the 1830s and allows the wearer to jump as if gravity barely holds them and to run at unnatural speeds. The man who invented it used its effects to bait and scare the Muggles of Victorian England. Today, you shall brew this potion. For those of you who can read, the steps are on the board. For those who are too dim-witted to read, you may follow me as I brew it along with the class," Snape snapped. It was a good lesson, all told, and when Harry turned in his stoppered sample, Snape called out to him.
"Very good, potter. Perhaps you have taken after your mother in more ways than I first thought."
And to round the day out, a period of transfiguration and a period of Dada with a Lockhart who had his students act out Lockhart befriending a group of yeti. Finally, he sat with Professor Weasley across from her office desk.
"So, Professor, what shall I be doing?" Harry asked.
"Oh, you can just do your homework, Harry. I don't condone violence in school, but defending yourself is nothing to be punished for." And so Harry went about doing his Potions and Transfiguration homework. Professor Weasley had a passion for Potions and had been working on a mastery when she was young, but the war caused her to lose her mentor. So she had plenty of reference books around for him to use.
His next detention, however, turned out to be somewhat more hands-on.
after 15 minutes of working on his homework for defense against the dark arts, the headmistress bustled in.
"Excuse me, Professor, but our guests require Mr. Potter's assistance," she breathlessly said.
So after making their way through the castle, Harry stood in front of the round door with a snake motif, and he heard knocking from inside it as they approached. Bill Weasley hit the door hard, and the knocking stopped. Harry heard the muffled hiss of his familiar.
" Smara! you found the way in, that's great!"
"Little one? Yes, I finally found the old junctions, and I believe I removed the physical blocks from the door, but it needs a human parcel mouth to open. I believe the Curse Breakers have ascertained the password," Smara relayed quickly.
Harry looked at Bill. "Well, I believe you have been apprised of the situation?" At Harry's nod, he continued.
"Excellent, now we have managed to figure out the new password for the door. The only problem is, we know this phrase is an activator phrase for any number of dark rituals, and there's no telling if this phrase is just something that whoever changed the locks around picked because it would freak us out and slow us down while we worked it out, or if, on top of opening the door, it started whatever ritual is linked to that diagram carved into Mr. Creevey. It's a grim situation, but there's a possibility that we can detect the start without actually triggering anything."
"So, Harry, I want you to repeat after me, but in Parseltongue, okay?" At Harry's nod, he began talking slowly.
"al-sahr yighzy nufseh butlek al-qarabi ouatani sabab raghbeti maktoube bahrovek."
Harry began reciting the phrase slowly while the curse breakers waved their wands, casting a litany of charms that Harry could only guess the purposes of. He began the fourth word when a hand clamped his mouth, stopping him.
An older man who had silenced Harry spoke up.
"Good call, you were right. Bill, it began to call another trigger into effect. We'll need to study the runes on Mister Creevey even further before we even attempt to open that door."
Harry was escorted back to his dorm room by Bill, who, when they arrived, stood and sat with his baby sister, who had been writing in a well-worn journal. Harry, on the other hand, went over to Ron and Hermione to relay the story and continue working on his homework.
The next night found Harry sitting in Lockhart's room, serving his detention. Harry was exhausted. Wood had taken Harry and the rest of the Quidditch team to the pitch as soon as their last classes were over and wouldn't let them go until a quarter to eight, and Harry hadn't had time for dinner before his detention. So there he was, sitting in the ponce's office, writing the addresses on Lockhart's "fan mail" while the man spouted off random sayings like "Fame's a fickle friend, Harry," and "Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that." Apparently, the loon had gotten it into his head that Harry retaliated against Malfoy because it would throw him into the limelight and wouldn't listen to Harry as he tried to tell the author-turned-professor that he had no desire to be famous. But the detention could have been worse. Apparently, Hagrid had loaned Malfoy out to Snape last night, who had to disembowel an entire 55-gallon barrel of horned toads and sort out the organs needed for potions—without magic or protective gloves. So Harry decided not to complain about the mail.
After Harry had been released near midnight, he was walking through the black abyss that was the school corridor, making his way back to Gryffindor Tower. Using the moon as his light source as the portraits on the walls kept yelling at him for being too bright, he stepped on something low and squishy and landed in something thick and wet. Harry stood up sleepily, complaining about spilled potions. When he cast a quiet Lumos, he subsequently screamed. Two bodies were on the floor: a boy from Harry's grade, Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff, and an older girl he didn't recognize but was a Ravenclaw, going by what was left of her robes. They were both shirtless and had a ritual circle. Harry assumed it was the same as the one Colin had carved into him.
Justin was carved into his back, but the topless older girl had the circle carved on her front. Harry's brain finally unclogged, and he took off at a sprint for Flitwick's office, which was the closest. A few minutes passed before Harry was hammering on the diminutive professor's door, and it opened quickly, a wand pointed at his face.
" Mister Potte-"
"Professor, there are two students down there," Harry said quickly and breathlessly, leaning against the wall, shaking.
"Mister Potter? Lead the way, please. Mister Potter, please lead the way!" And Harry wordlessly took off while the Charms Master conjured five spectral white dogs that spread out through the school. When they got back to the two on the ground, the Aurors were already sprinting through the school to find them. Harry stared in shock at his classmates lying broken and bloody on the stone floor before a female Auror conjured two blankets and covered them.
The Auror was speaking to him, probably asking questions that Harry couldn't answer. But Harry was no longer awake, no longer alert. His eyes were open, but his mind had shut down.
"Mister Potter," the Charms teacher called to him, and when the man's face came into focus in Harry's vision, he collapsed. When Harry came to the next morning, he saw a part of the hospital wing that was rapidly becoming way too familiar. Harry silently wondered if the matron was putting him in the same bed on purpose, and then he wondered how he got there. Looking around and seeing the two new curtains of beds jogged his memory with the force of a freight train. "Ah, Mister Potter, you're awake. Good. You feel free to get up and dressed and off to breakfast," she said while waving her wand quickly over and around his body. "Madam Pomfrey, what happened to me? Why did I pass out?" Harry asked nervously. "Oh, don't worry, dear boy, you're fine. It's perfectly normal to happen to one so young. You had a panic attack coupled with the three sprints you did. Your brain was over-oxygenated, and you fell unconscious. With you running like you were, nobody noticed that you were hyperventilating. But you're fine now, so go and have a shower and then, once again, go and have yourself a nice breakfast!" the matron curtly explained. "Yes, ma'am," said Harry, collecting his clothes and going to the shower at the far side of the hospital wing.
The atmosphere in the Great Hall during breakfast was bleak. Harry had arrived at the tail end of breakfast, and Hermione explained that McGonagall had told the school of the double attack. "There are rumors that they'll close the school soon if they can't find the culprit or open the Chamber," said Hermione sadly.
"Don't worry, 'Mione. I'm sure they'll work everything out soon. Bill is working on it after all," replied Ron. Normally, she would have nagged him for shortening her name, but it seemed that the concept of Hogwarts closing had taken most of the wind from her sails, and all she did was glare at him from across the table and kick him in the shin. Harry turned his attention to the others in the hall. Many were sitting far more rigidly than they would normally, or sitting close together. The entire population had an air of anxiety and depression. The Hufflepuffs especially had a most morose quality to them.
"This sucks!" Harry exclaimed. "I wish there was something I could do, but unless we stumble upon who's doing this, I'm stumped." His two friends nodded in agreement.
"Have you all seen Smara?" Harry asked as he began assembling three bacon sandwiches.
"Hmm, I think I remember Bill saying he's down there, helping the Curse-Breakers in researching the Chamber," Hermione explained, scooping a few pieces of fresh fruit onto Harry's plate while eyeing his sandwiches as if they were a personal offense to her.
"How is she doing that?" But the two only shrugged as everyone either started or continued to eat, as Harry and Hermione pointedly ignored Ron's table manners.
As the day progressed, the trio found themselves in the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Ron were playing wizard's chess, and Hermione was reading her favorite Muggle book, "A Brief History of Time" by Stephen Hawking. Harry had already been soundly beaten by Ron three times, but this match he had been doing much better—until a few minutes later, Harry learned that he had been falling for a long-term ploy by Ron and faced checkmate right when he thought he had Ron pinned for once. Harry groaned and banged his head on the board, causing several pieces to yell loudly in protest as he knocked them over. Then Hermione spoke up.
"You know, sometimes I wonder what could be learned from applying magic to astrophysics. I'm hoping to learn to do that when I start Arithmancy," Hermione said in a monotone that said very plainly that she was very deep in her own thoughts.
"Arithmancy—what?" Harry asked.
"Arithmancy! It's the numerical value of magic—how you can calculate magic like you can calculate physics in the mundane world through mathematics. Arithmancy is an optional class we can take starting in our third year, but I've already started reading the introductory book. It's not quite course-grade material, but it's good enough for an outsider's introduction."
"Hermione, I'm not going to lie. That sounds about as dull as watching paint dry," said Harry.
"So, you won't join the class with me? It's just Maths, Harry, just a different form like Algebra or Calculus," Hermione argued back, sounding displeased.
"I'll consider it. I don't know much about the elective courses," said Harry. The elective courses at Hogwarts had a tiered system, meaning some electives were only available after the completion of prior requirements. Starting in the third year, a student can take Divination, which was a lot like Muggle fortune-telling from what Harry understood; Care of Magical Creatures, the study of magical animals and how to care for them under the restrictions of the International Statute of Secrecy; and the study of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. After the fifth year, however, Hogwarts electives branch out into many varied areas of study, from Introduction to Healing to Ward and Spell Design.
Harry hadn't thought of which electives he would join, not knowing much about the magical world, but that was when it hit him. He was sabotaging himself again like he promised Hermione and Smara he wouldn't do. Harry had to be the best possible; he was going to be a lord, someone people looked to to lead. Harry needed to take respectable courses, not easy ones. Damn it.
"Well, why don't we go see Mrs. Weasley? She has a booklet describing the classes, so you have a whole half a year to decide instead of picking at the end of the year."
And so, the two with mischievous smiles walked up to Ron, grabbed both his shoulders, and frog-marched him from the common room to his mother's office. But, somewhat to their surprise, there were voices coming from the office already—there were students in her office. But the students' visits became immediately understood as the flaming red hair of Percy and Ginny Weasley became visible. Percy, seeing the three walk in, stopped talking. But a shame-faced Ginny seemed to find it hard to look away from her mother.
Genny looked terrible—pale, like she hadn't seen any sun in years, and thin, worryingly thin. Harry knew what that type of weight loss meant. A worried glance passed between Harry and Molly Weasley. "Hello, dears. What can I do for you?" asked the professor kindly.
"We're here for a booklet on the elective courses offered for third years, but we can come back later if you need us to," piped up Hermione.
"Oh, nonsense, I have it right here. Percy was just explaining that little genny here was having nightmares," she said as she quickly copied out three booklets from the one in her hand and gave them to her students and son.
"Hermione? Have you had any nightmares? I was thinking maybe the girls' dorm was still under the effects of the dark magic residue."
"Err... no, Professor. No nightmares outside of my usual one involving a troll and a bathroom, but I'm not in the same room as Ginny. Her room was the one with the circle on the wall," said Hermione.
"True. Very true. Well, I'll have William take another look at that room, just to be safe. Well, Percy, why don't you escort these four back to the common room?"
"Actually, Professor Harry and I were going to go to the library," explained Hermione, waving off Percy.
And so they did. They retreated from the office and through the increasingly frosty corridors down to the library, where they spent the hours before dinner working on homework and studying for the mid-year exams.
The next few days went by, each colder than the last, with the marked absence of the headmistress from the table at both breakfast and dinner. That Friday, it became clear why, as Headmistress McGonagall appeared again to address the school.
A/N: Hey all, sorry. I tried to get this chapter out before I went on a small camping trip, but it didn't work out that way. So I finished this up and edited it while staying up at the family campsite.
I'm not entirely certain about the pacing in this chapter, but since most of my ideas for the story take place after Christmas, there isn't much substance in the first few months at Hogwarts to write about.
Anyway you know the drill favorite follow and review!review responces
Mikeblade: Given what we know of the Weasleys, they "breed like gnomes," so there are a large number of Weasley cousins.
And given what I know of white-collar crime, i.e., the mob and mafia, people who deal in debts outside of a bank will not simply let that debt go. They will hound every generation of the family because, just like banks, interest on a debt is free and easy money in the bank. So it sounds like you don't know how debt works unless it's from a regulated bank. I don't think Gringotts deals in gambling.
you can fuck off I don't need rude asses in my reviews.minordude: yeeea a mistake that I will fix soon lol I spell her name genny becuase her name is genevra lol my phones spell check corrects it I catch it most of the time.