“Get up! Up! Now!”

Harry groaned and shifted on his cot in the cupboard under the stairs. It was just three weeks after he had arrived at the Dursley’s, fresh out of his first year at Hogwarts. He had found three friends, a fourth in his raven (who could talk and was over a hundred years old), and defeated the most feared Dark wizard since Grindelwald for the second time in his life. And yet, here he was, stuck in a broom cupboard with a rickety cot and a thin blanket with only the spiders and a disgruntled Jardin for company.

“Get up you mangy little brat!”

Okay, now he was awake. And angry. Harry threw the blanket aside and shoved the door of the cupboard open, ducking his head as he stormed out, moving past his Aunt Petunia into the kitchen. His uncle and whale of a cousin were already there, sitting at the table. Dudley stuck his tongue out at him and Harry scowled in return, earning a box on the ear for it.

Petunia snapped in her fingernails-on-chalkboard voice, “Cook the bacon, boy! And don’t burn it!”

Harry, still scowling, complied. Aunt Petunia had told him already that if he wanted to return to that ‘freak’ school of his, he’d have to work for it. Or he wouldn’t be going back.

Harry snorted at the thought. It would be simple enough to break his way out of the cupboard and run with Jardin. He had smartly kept his wand with him when he had put all his other things in his trunk – even if they had been told not to use magic over the holidays. Certainly if he ran he wouldn’t have his trunk but he could get other books with the money in his Gringotts vault. He had also smartly kept his father’s invisibility cloak with him. It, his wand, and Jardin were his most prized possessions – not that he actually considered Jardin a possession; more like a friend.

Speaking of which…

< AH! Breakfast!>

Harry wasn’t the least bit startled when Jardin’s voice had echoed through his head. If he had, he’d be sporting severe burns on his hands. He had gotten used to the raven’s voice since he had gotten him Christmas morning.

Jar, what in the bloody heck are you doing?

< Catching breakfast. There are some delectable looking spiders in here.>

Harry grimaced.

Jar.

< Yes?>

That’s gross.

< Correction. …gulp… That’s breakfast.>

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed mentally at the raven before taking the bacon out of the pan and putting it onto plates. He carried them to the table and handed one to his aunt, uncle, and cousin then sat down with his own. Under his aunt’s piercing gaze he finished it quickly then went back to the cupboard, giving the rinds and a piece of toast to Jardin.

< Ah! Bacon rinds and a slice of toast. Such a wonderful breakfast you had.>

Shut up, Jar, snapped Harry then turned to take the list of chores from his aunt. She looked down her nose at him in a way that reminded him rather of Malfoy and snapped, “I want those down by this afternoon. No exceptions!”

Harry nodded and set to work.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Gods…”

Jardin hopped from his perch on one of the narrow shelves in the cupboard to Harry’s back. Harry had come in just a moment before, moaned, and collapsed facedown on the cot.

< Something wrong?>

Yeah. All the sodding work I have to do. Have you seen my cousin? My aunt should get him to do some of the work.

< And your uncle?>

He’s actually not that bad. Terrified of Aunt Petunia though. I think she’s a relation to Malfoy.

Jardin laughed in both their heads and said, < Perhaps. She has the face for it!>

Harry lifted his head and looked over his shoulder to grin at the raven standing on his back.

“Good poin’.”

“Shut up!!”

Jardin jumped and gave a startled squawk.

“And keep that bird quiet!”

Harry was half tempted to tell Jardin to squawk again but didn’t dare risk it. He had the feeling his aunt could get rather testy and he was not in the mood – nor would he ever be – to be beaten again. Argil had been enough.

Thinking of Argil started him thinking of Tyls and he wondered where his friend was now.

< Harry?>

Go to sleep, Jar.

< Ah, but there is a very large spider crawling on your leg.>

Harry looked down and flicked it off. It hit the wall with a soft splat and fell to the floor. Jardin flapped down after it and as Harry turned over onto his back, he heard the sound of the raven gulping something down.

< Thank you.>

Welcome. Now go to sleep.

< Hmm.>

Jardin hopped back up to nestle down on the pillow beside Harry’s head as the boy pulled the ragged blanket over himself and fell asleep.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

As July 31 rolled around, Harry began to wonder if his friends had forgotten about his birthday. He thought he remembered telling them about it but couldn’t remember for certain. And shouldn’t they have sent him a letter by now? Maybe he could sneak Jardin out tonight and send something to Niamh.

Quirking a smile at the thought, Harry brushed the sweat off his brow and went back to weeding the garden. It was blazing hot outside and he had taken off his shirt, revealing his scars, which showed white against his pale skin. He was sure he saw the old woman who lived across the street wince when she had walked by earlier. Shrugging, he dug the trowel deeply into the dirt.

And a voice sprang out at him.

“Stupid human!”

Harry jumped and watched as a small black snake with sparkling black eyes slithered out from behind the plant he had been trying to dig up. He peered at it and said, “Was tha’ you?”

The snake blinked and looked up at him.

“You can understand me?”

Harry jumped again and fell back onto the ground, staring at the snake. He sputtered, “I’ was you!”

“Of course it was,” said the snake irritably, reminding Harry of his Head of House, Professor Snape. “But I have never heard a human speak back to me.”

Harry snorted and said, “Well, I ‘aven’t talked ter a snake before.”

“Hmm. Strange. What were you doing?”

“Weedin’. Me aunt makes me.”

“Why?” asked the snake.

Harry shrugged. “I doan know. Jardin thinks she’s a relation ter Malfoy.”

“Who is Jardin? And Malfoy?”

“Jardin is me raven – he c’n talk as well. An’ Malfoy is a bloody bastard who goes ter me school.”

“I see…,” said the snake. “Could I perhaps stay on you while you weed? And talk? I have not talked in anyone in so long…”

Harry nodded and said, “Sure.” He let the snake wrap around his wrist then continued weeding, talking to it all the while until Aunt Petunia stormed out of the house and shrieked, “Boy! Get inside!”

She then spotted the snake and started towards him, rage flashing across her face. Harry staggered for a moment in surprise but stood his ground, eyes flashing. Aunt Petunia pointed at the snake and hissed, “And get rid of that thing, you little freak.” She slapped him hard then turned and went back into the house.

Harry rubbed his cheek, feeling the bone underneath ache. As summer had progressed he had grown a few inches and his cheekbones had become more pronounced, making him look like a corpse Aunt Petunia said.

Looking down at the black snake he asked, “Did ye hear her?”

“Yes, I did. She is not a nice woman. She has killed many of my kind.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was not your fault. I shall go now.”

Harry placed the snake back on the ground and asked, “Will I see ye again?”

The snake looked up at him and replied, “I do not know. Perhaps we shall meet again. Until then.” With that it had vanished into the grass.

Heaving a sigh, Harry shrugged back into his shirt then put the tools back into the shed before heading inside to find out what Aunt Petunia wanted.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

When he was eating lunch, Uncle Vernon suddenly said, “Mr. and Mrs. Mason are coming over tonight for dinner. If everything goes well, this could be the biggest deal of my career.”

Aunt Petunia smiled and said, “That’s wonderful, dear!” She then turned to Harry and snarled, “And you, of course, know where you’ll be?”

Harry nodded and glumly replied, “In me cupboard na makin’ a soun’.”

“And if you do anything to ruin this, you know what will happen.”

Harry nodded again, knowing full well she was talking about his going back to Hogwarts or not, then sent a furious scowl at Dudley for laughing at his accent. He then dumped his plate in the sink and went to finish his chores.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Just before the Mason’s arrived, Aunt Petunia shoved Harry towards the cupboard and hissed, “Remember what I said, boy. One sound out of you or that bird and you won’t be going back to that freak school of yours.”

“Yeh, Aunt Petunia.”

She sneered at him then left. Harry sighed and headed for the cupboard. As soon as he reached the door Jardin’s voice blasted into his mind.

< HARRY!!!>

Harry winced and snarled, I’m right here, Jar! What in the sod did you yell for?

< We’ve got trouble.>

What? snapped Harry irritably, hearing Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia greeting Mr. and Mrs. Mason in the next room.

< It’s a house-elf.>

A WHAT?!

< A house-elf >, replied Jardin. < A rather…bouncy house-elf.>

Is that bad thing?

< In a house full of Muggles? Yes.>

Harry cursed under his breath then said, What does he want?

< I would not know as I can’t speak to house-elves.>

“Oh, bloody ‘ell,” hissed Harry under his breath then shot into the cupboard as Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon began to lead Mr. and Mrs. Mason towards the dining room. He closed the door as quietly as he could then turned to see a little creature with large, bat-like ears and tennis ball sized green eyes. It was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase.

“Um…‘ello,” said Harry uncertainly, glancing at Jardin. The raven looked back at him from his perch and shrugged.

The creature said in a high voice, “Harry Potter! Dobby has waited long to see you!”

Harry heard the voices from the dining room falter and whispered, “Thank ye but…who are you?”

“Dobby, sir. Dobby the house-elf.”

“Okay. I ‘ave ter tell ye, this is na a good time fer me ter have a house-elf in my – erm…”

< Cupboard? > suggested Jardin.

Shut it, you, spat Harry, annoyed.

“…my bedroom, I guess.”

< Bedroom? Ha!>

Jar… growled Harry warningly, giving the raven the Evil Eye.

Harry turned back to Dobby and asked, “Erm – is there any reason why yer ‘ere?”

“Yes, sir!” cried Dobby, “Dobby came to tell you something, sir…very important, sir… But Dobby does not know where to start…”

“The beginnin’?” suggested Harry, listening to the voices drifting out of the kitchen.

“Dobby has come…Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter!”

“Warn me? Warn me abou’ wha’?”

The house-elf bounced up and down, his eyes shifting back and forth.

“Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!”

Harry looked taken aback.

“But…I ‘ave ter go back. Tha’s my world. I doan belong ‘ere! I can’na stay ‘ere!”

Dobby shook his head wildly and squeaked, “If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger!”

Jardin snorted mentally and said, < When is that not so?>

Harry glared at the raven then asked, “Wha’ danger?”

“A plot, Harry Potter! A plot to make very bad things happen! Harry Potter must not go back! You is too important, sir!”

“Terrible t’ings?” said Harry, arching an eyebrow. “Who’s plannin’ them?”

Dobby’s eyes went wide and he made a choking sound before beginning to bash his head against the floor. Harry jerked him off it and looked at Jardin.

What in the bloody hell was that about?

< House-elves are bound to wizarding families. If they say something bad against their family, they must punish themselves.>

Bound? Like me and you?

There was a pause then Jardin said, < Something of the sort.>

‘Something of the sort’ he says… grumbled Harry then let go of Dobby, who was hiccoughing.

“Shhh,” he whispered, straining his ears to hear for voices in the dining room. They had faltered at the sound of Dobby bashing his head against the floor then slowly rose again. He sighed with relief then turned back to Dobby.

“Okay. Ye can’na tell me, I get tha’. But does i’ ‘ave ter do with Voldemort?”

Dobby clapped his hands over his ears and moaned, “Do not say the name, sir!”

“Okay, okay!” Harry waved his hands frantically and took a deep breath.

“Okay, does i’ ‘ave anything ter do with You-Know-Who?”

Dobby shook his head and said, “Not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir. No, no, no…”

Harry frowned then said, “But who else cou’ make somthin’ ‘orrible happen at Hogwarts?”

Dobby bounced on his feet some more, eyes wide as though he were trying to give Harry a hint.

“Nothin’ c’n happen a’ Hogwarts, Dobby. Dumbledore’s there.”

“Albus Dumbledore is a great Headmaster. Yes, sir. But there are things he…things no decent wizard…” He suddenly began to pound his head on the floor again, at the same time shrieking, “Bad Dobby! Bad!”

Harry grabbed a sock and shoved it into his mouth to stop the sound. He heard the voices from the dining room falter then pick up again. Sighing with relief, he removed the sock from Dobby’s mouth.

“Okay. So, somthin’s goin’ ter happen. But I still can’na stay ‘ere, Dobby. Think of me friends!”

“Friends who do not send you letters?”

Harry blinked then scowled down at the house-elf. He snarled, “How do ye know me friends ‘aven’t been writing ter me?”

Dobby reached into his pillowcase and pulled out a wad of envelope’s, shaking all the while under Harry’s furious scowl. “Harry Potter mustn’t be angry at Dobby…”

“Ye’ve been stoppin’ me letters?” growled Harry in a low voice dripping with rage as he recognized Hermione’s neat writing, Ron’s untidy scrawl, and Niamh’s spidery hand among the letters.

“Harry Potter must forgive Dobby…he thought – he thought if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him he would not want to go back to school…”

Harry was becoming angrier by the minute. Jardin cautioned in his head, < Easy, Harry. Easy. > But Harry wasn’t listening. He made a lunge at Dobby, who jumped nimbly away, clutching the letters to his chest.

“Harry Potter will have them if he promises not to go back to Hogwarts.”

Harry snapped, “I already told ye, I can’na stay ‘ere!”

Dobby looked sadly at him and said, “Then Dobby is sorry, sir.” The house-elf dashed out of the cupboard. Harry cursed and followed him, Jardin flapping after him. He darted into the kitchen and saw Dobby crouched on a shelf. Aunt Petunia’s pudding was floating in midair. Harry looked up at it then at Dobby as Jardin came to land on his shoulder.

“Dobby, please…”

“Harry Potter must promise!”

“I can’na!”

“I am sorry, Harry Potter,” said Dobby mournfully and disappeared with a loud crack. The pudding crashed to the floor, sending glass and cream splattering everywhere. Harry sputtered and spit some out of his mouth. On his shoulder, Jardin made an indignant sound.

Suddenly Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon charged into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia saw the mess and glared at him. Striding forward, she grabbed him by the collar and hissed, “Clean this up, boy. And you won’t be going back to that freak school of yours anymore.” She threw the mop at him then dragged Uncle Vernon back into the dining room. As Harry started scrubbing the kitchen clean, a huge barn owl suddenly swept into the kitchen through the dining room, earning a shriek and a run from Mrs. Mason. He clearly heard Mr. Mason saying something about his wife being afraid of birds then the slam of the door. A moment later Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen again.

Aunt Petunia pointed at the barn owl and the letter tied to its leg. She hissed, “Read it.”

Harry cast a look at Jardin, who was standing on the counter cleaning his feathers, then walked over to the owl. As soon as he untied the letter from its leg, it flew off. He opened it and read it out loud.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine.

As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree of Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).

We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy.

Enjoy your holidays!

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE

Ministry of Magic

Harry swallowed hard and Jardin said solemnly, < A deep puddle we are in now, my friend.>

Aunt Petunia gave him a feral grin and said, “Forgot to tell us you can’t do magic out of school, didn’t you? Must have slipped your mind, aye? Well, you won’t be going anywhere anymore, boy.”

“Petunia, perhaps…” began Uncle Vernon.

“Shut up, Vernon.”

Uncle Vernon closed his mouth and gave Harry a rather sad, pitying look. Aunt Petunia snarled, “Finish cleaning up the kitchen then back into your cupboard, boy.” As she started to leave the room she yelled, “And get rid of that bloody raven! I don’t want to see it in my house again!” She stormed out of the room, followed a moment later by Uncle Vernon.

Harry sighed then turned to look at Jardin, who was preening on of his wings.

Jar.

< I heard, Harry.>

Go to Ron’s. Tell him to come get me the hell out of here. I don’t care what it takes. I want out.

Jardin bobbed his head in a nod and said, < I will. Good luck.>

Go, said Harry, ducking his head. He heard Jardin fly out the open window in the dining room then silence. Sighing, he set back to cleaning.

“Ron, I’m worried about Harry.”

Ron looked up from his chess game with Ginny to look at Niamh.  She was visiting her aunt in Ottery St. Catchpole for a week while her parents were on a trip to America and had told her aunt she ‘just so happened’ to remember one of her school friends lived there.  So, Niamh had trudged up to the Burrow on her first day there and had been coming ever since.  Today was Wednesday and she was sitting on the Weasley’s couch reading the now slightly battered book of hexes and curses she and Harry passed between each other.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.  Because he hasn’t written anything to either of us?” replied Niamh irritably.

Ginny frowned and said, “Maybe he forgot.”

Niamh shook her head.  “You’ve met Harry, Ginny.  He stayed here for…what? a month?”

“Something like that,” muttered Ron as he peered down at the chessboard.

“Okay, so, Gin, you know he doesn’t forget things.”

“Forgets to do his homework.”

“Ron, you forget to do your homework.  Harry waits till the last minute and does it in class.”

“Oh.  Right.  So, what do you want to do?  Go to…where was it again?”

“His aunt and uncle’s house,” sighed Niamh.

“Yeah.  His aunt and uncle’s house and check on him?”

“Actually I would like…”

She was interrupted when a large black bird shot into the living room from the kitchen, followed by an angry-looking Mrs. Weasley.

“Would someone care to explain what that is?”

Niamh looked at the bird, which had perched on the mantelpiece and gasped, “Jardin?”

Ron’s head came up (he was too engrossed in the chess game to notice the bird’s entrance) and he whirled to look at the raven.  “Jardin?”

< The one and only.  Now, could you please tell her not to hit me with that rather large frying pan? >

Niamh jumped up and said, “That’s Harry’s bird, Mrs. Weasley!”

Mrs. Weasley frowned and asked, “Why does Harry have a raven?  I thought he bought that lovely snowy owl – what did he call it?”

“Hedwig,” said Niamh softly.  “Draco Malfoy killed her and Harry got Jardin for Christmas.”

“From who?”

“Apparently someone who hadn’t liked what Malfoy did.”

Mrs. Weasley shook her head and said, “Malfoy’s.  Always Malfoy’s.”  With that she went back into the kitchen and Niamh turned back to Jardin.

Okay, what’s going on?  You’re here, you have no letter, and I am seriously pissed off now from remembering what Malfoy did to Hedwig.

Jardin made a sound in his throat then said, < Harry is in trouble.  His aunt – who I believe may be a relation to Malfoy (Ron made a hacking sound here) – told him he could not return to Hogwarts. >

“WHAT!!” screamed both Niamh and Ron.

< I haven’t finished.  A house-elf came into Harry’s cu-bedroom and told him that he couldn’t return to Hogwarts.  Something bad’s going to happen this year, kids. >

Niamh scowled at him then turned to Ron.

“What’s a house-elf?”

“They’re elves.  Mum’d like one.  They clean and all sorts of things.  Of course, they only come with big castles and old mansions.”

Niamh frowned then jerked as Jardin suddenly spoke once more.

< Oh, and Harry said to get him the hell out of there. >

Anything else?

< Do it any way you can. >

Niamh smiled.  That should be fun.

Fun?  What are we going to do?

Niamh grinned at Ron and said, “Find your brother’s.”

“Percy?  What will he do?”

“Not all your brother’s!  Fred and George.  We need their…expertise.”

“Niamh?”

“Yes, Ron?”

“What are we doing?”

“Rescuing Harry,” replied Niamh in a savage voice.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Get in there and stay in there!”

Harry was flung into his cupboard by his aunt, landing hard on the floor.  He heard the lock snap closed and slowly sat up, wincing.  His aunt had officially given him his first beating.  He lifted his shirt and peered at the bruise purpling on his side.  Oh, that was going to be a beauty…

Putting his shirt back down, he climbed into his cot, wincing again as he hit one of the old scars.  Aunt Petunia had opened a few of the more recent one’s from Argil’s last beating a year ago.  Sighing, he buried his face in the pillow, almost wishing he were back with Argil.  The man may have beaten him, but he hadn’t hated him.

What seemed only a few minutes later, he heard the sound of someone sliding open the lock.  Sitting up, he pulled his wand from the holster he had bought when he was with the Weasley’s at Diagon Alley last year.  He kept it hidden under his baggy t-shirts at his aunt and uncle’s.  It was also the reason he was so fast at pulling his wand out.

Suddenly the door opened and he was looking into two familiar freckled faces.  “Fred!  George!” he whispered excitedly.  “What in the sod are ye two doin’ ‘ere?”

“Rescuing you,” replied George (or was that Fred?).

“Rescue?”

The twins nodded.

“So Jar made i’!”

“Yep.  Interesting bird, that one.”

“Yeah.  Seems it can talk.”

Harry nodded then said, “We’d better ge’ out o’ ‘ere.  If me aunt and uncle wake up…I’m dead.”

“Let’s go then.  We’ve got your trunk in the car.”

“Car?” said Harry incredulously as he dug through different things and grabbed his invisibility cloak.  He left everything else, even the clothes.  His aunt had given him Dudley’s old things, one of which he was wearing.

“Let’s go,” said Fred (or was that George?).  They headed upstairs and into the smallest bedroom, which was stuffed full of Dudley’s old toys.  Outside the window Harry could see an old turquoise car floating in midair.  Ron and Niamh were perched in the backseat, along with Jardin, who was sitting on Niamh’s shoulder.

“Harry!”

Harry quickly shushed his friend.

“Sshhh, Ni.  They catch me gettin’ ou’ and I’m dead.”

Niamh’s eyes widened and he thought he heard her mutter, “And I thought my parents were bad.”

Fred climbed through the window into the front seat of the car and George followed him.  Just as Harry was starting to climb through there was a shriek from downstairs and then his aunt appeared in the doorway.  He leapt for the car as she lunged at him.

“GO GO GO!!!” he bellowed at Fred as he dived through the back window of the car.  Fred punched the gas and they shot away from No. 4 Privet Drive.  Harry straightened in the backseat then said, “T’anks.”  He then hung partially out the window and saw his aunt staring up after them.  Waving cheerfully to her, he then sat back down.

And was buried under Niamh.

“Harry!  Your okay!”

Harry yelped as he hugged him, hitting out of his bruises.

Niamh pulled back and looked at him worriedly.

“What was that?”

Harry sighed and lifted his shirt for her to see.  Niamh gave a gasp of horror while Ron looked on in shock.  They had known about him getting beaten by Argil but had never seen his scars, which were now overcast by Aunt Petunia’s bruises.  George turned to look at what they were doing and froze.

“Harry, mate, what happened?”

Harry dropped his shirt and replied, “Aunt Petunia happened.  I t’ink she’s related ter Malfoy.”

“Oh no…” moaned Ron and Niamh.

“So could you, Harry.  Your face is rather…”  Ron’s voice drifted off as Harry scowled at him.

In the front seat George looked at Fred, who turned slightly to look before turning back around to drive.  He said quietly to George, “He looks even more like Professor Snape than before.”

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t know what to think.”

George nodded and leaned back in his seat, listening as Harry told Ron and Niamh about his month with the Dursley’s.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry, dear, what happened to you?”

Mrs. Weasley had begun to fuss over Harry as soon as he got back to the Burrow.  She had firmly scolded her sons and Niamh then turned perfectly cheerful towards him.

“S’all righ’, Mrs. Weasley.  I’ve ‘ad worse.”

They were sitting in the kitchen and Mrs. Weasley was putting something on his bruises and reopened cuts.  Niamh entered the kitchen and blanched at the sight her friend (Harry had taken off his shirt).  She moved to sit down in the chair in front of him, her eyes going to each scar that marred his thin arms and chest.  Harry looked at her and said, “S’na tha’ bad, Ni.”

“Not that bad?  Harry, look at you!  You’ve got more scars than anyone rightly should have!”

Harry shrugged (“Harry, dear, don’t move.”) and said, “I’ve been through worse then anyone should ‘ave.  I lived on the stree’s, ‘member?”

“I remember.”

Suddenly Ginny ran into the kitchen, brown eyes widening when she saw Harry.  Her eyes went to each scar as Niamh’s had then she met his eyes.  “Harry?”

“‘Ello, Gin.  ‘Ow ‘ave ye been?”

“Good, good.  You?”

Harry shrugged again (“Harry, dear, stop moving.”) and said, “I’ve ‘ad better.”

Mrs. Weasley finished and said, “There.  Those should be healed up in a few days.  I can’t get rid of the scars though.”

“S’alrigh’, Mrs. Weasley.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded, looking at him rather sadly.  He smiled at her then turned back to Ginny and Niamh, both of whom were also looking rather sadly at him.  Harry said, “I’m fine.  Doan worry.”

“Oh, Harry!” cried Ginny and flung her arms around him.  Harry winced as she hit one of his bruises but didn’t say anything, simply hugged her in return.

“T’anks, Gin.”

Ginny blushed and mumbled, “Welcome.”

Harry grinned then looked out towards the garden, where Fred, George, and Ron were.  Turning back to the two girls, he said, “C’mon.  Le’s go see ‘ow those three are doin’.”  He grabbed his shirt and they headed forward.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Duck!”

Harry ducked as George let a gnome fly over his head.  It landed over the hedge and got back up, waving its fist at George.  Ginny and Niamh applauded from their spot near the door.

Suddenly a gnome appeared near Harry’s feet and he snatched it, swinging into around twice before letting it go.

“Whoa!  That must’ve been fifty feet, Harry.”

Harry beamed at Fred then at Ginny and Niamh, who were going into raucous bits of applause.  The boys kept throwing gnomes, Ginny and Niamh applauding in different degrees for each of them.  Harry seemed to get the most applause.

As they were going inside, Fred flung an arm about Harry’s bare shoulders (he still hadn’t put his shirt back on as it was hot outside) and said softly, “I think Ginny and Niamh are crushing you.”

Harry blinked then realized what he was saying.

“Wha’?  Na…”

“Yeah.  Why do you think they gave you the most applause?”

“Ni, ‘cause she’s me frien’.  Gin…”

“Ah, can’t think of a reason for that one, can you?”

“Shut up.”

“Heheheh.”

Harry scowled at him and disengaged himself from the older boy.  As he walked into the Burrow, he looked back at Niamh and Ginny.  The two of them had found one last gnome and Niamh was spinning it.  She let it go and it sailed in a high arch before landing directly on top of one of the other gnome’s.  Niamh screamed, “Just where I wanted it to land!” and began to jump up and down, hugging Ginny, who was laughing.  Ron was staring at them in awe.  Harry looked from one to the other then began to laugh at them.

“Harry!  Harry!”

“Yeh, Mrs. Weasley?”

“You have some owls down here.”

“‘Kay!”  Harry turned to look at Niamh and Ron, who were sitting on Ron’s bed.  “Why would I ‘ave owls?”

Ron shrugged but Niamh gasped and said, “Your birthday, Harry!  That was yesterday!  31st of July.”

Harry blinked then nodded.  “Yer righ’, Ni.  I forgot wi’ everyt’ing.  Le’s go see wha’ the owls brough’.”

Ron and Niamh leapt up and the three of them clambered down the stairs.  The owls had come in through the kitchen window and dropped their parcels on the table before they swooped out again.  Ginny was sitting at the table, peering at a rather long parcel a large screech owl had brought in.  Harry blinked at all the presents then reached out for one of the parcels.  Hermione’s neat handwriting ran across it and he grinned, opening it.

“Whoa,” said Niamh from where she peeked around his shoulder.  “That’s a really rare book.”

“What is it?” asked Ginny.

Ron read the title from over Harry’s other shoulder.  “Curses: From Light to Dark.”  Mrs. Weasley turned to look at him.

“What was that?”

“A book ‘n hexes an’ curses, Mrs. Weasley.  Ni and me like ter learn abou’ ‘em.”

Mrs. Weasley arched an eyebrow at Harry and Niamh then said, “As long as you don’t use them.”

“Only against Malfoy,” muttered Niamh as Harry reached for the long parcel.  He ripped the paper aside and gasped.  Ron and Niamh did the same.

“What is it?” asked Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.

Niamh breathed, “A Nimbus 2001.”

“Someone must really like you, mate,” gasped Ron.

Harry nodded numbly then picked up the small piece of parchment that had come along with the broom.  He read it, noting that Niamh and Ron were doing the same over his shoulders.

A broom for you as you have none.  Be careful with it and make sure you win.

Signed, a concerned Slytherin

Ron gaped.  “A Slytherin sent you that?”

Niamh and Harry promptly glared at him and he snapped his mouth shut.  Harry looked at the note again then at the broom.

“Who would ‘ave sent me this?”

Niamh shrugged and said, “None of the Slyth’s would.  Most of them have their heads shoved too far up Malfoy or Flint’s asses.”

“Niamh!”

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but it’s the truth.”

“Well, I’ll have none of that language in my house.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry shook his head then frowned.  “So who…?”

“Snape?” suggested Ron.  “He’s head of Slytherin House and Hermione thinks he may have been a Slytherin himself.”

“He was,” said Mrs. Weasley as she began to fix dinner.  “A first year when I was a seventh year.  Awfully smart but shy.  From what I heard he hung out with the wrong crowd.  Except for one.”  She turned and continued, “Your mother, in fact, Harry.”

Harry blinked.  “’E knew me mum?”

“Yes.  They were in the same year.”

Harry blinked then looked down at the broom in his hands then to Jardin, who was perched on the mantle in the living room, asleep.  He wondered…

“Harry, c’mon.  I think this one’s mine.  I’m sure I sent it to you…”

Harry turned back to the table and the presents and finished opening them.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Alright you lot.  Now, you know what you have to get, so get it.  And Fred, George, don’t you dare set foot in Knockturn Alley!”

“We will, Mum!”

“George!”

“Calm down, woman.  We swear we won’t take a peek into Diagon Alley.”

“Knockturn Alley!”

“Yeah, that’s it!”

Mrs. Weasley sighed and muttered, “I don’t know why I bother,” before walking off with Ginny and Mr. Weasley in tow, leaving Ron, Harry, and Niamh on the steps of Gringotts.  Harry was still trying to get soot off his shirt from when he had taken a wrong turn on the Floo network and ended up in Knockturn Alley.  He had been tempted to linger when he had seen Malfoy and apparently his father in a shop but had been found by Hagrid.  Niamh frowned and grabbed his shirt, savagely rubbing the spot out.  As she did, she growled, “What are we waiting for?”

“Hermione,” replied Ron.  “She wrote me and we agreed to meet here.”

“Ah.  There you go, Harry.  Spotless once more.”

Harry rubbed at the shirt where she had stretched it then looked up as a mass of bushy brown hair bounded up into him.

“Harry!”

“Nice ter see ye too, Mione,” choked Harry as Hermione hugged him.  “Ow, ow.  Ow!”

Hermione jumped back, brown eyes wide.  “What happened?”

Harry rubbed his back, where she had squeezed one of the half-healed bruises a bit too hard.  He said, “Explain later.  Le’s go ge’ our t’ings.”

“Okay,” agreed the other three and they were off.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

A half-hour later they were pushing their way through a crowd into Flourish and Blott’s towards Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny.  Harry frowned at a poster Hermione held in her hands.  A cheerfully smiling man with blond hair and mauve robes winked up at them from it.  Harry sneered at it then asked, “Why are ye carryin’ tha’ around?”

Hermione blushed and stuttered, “W-w-well…”

“She fancies him,” said Niamh cheerfully.

“Niamh!”

“Fancy?  HIM?”  Harry looked incredulously at the poster.  The far too cheerful man was beginning to give him a headache with his winking.  “Who in the sodding ‘eck is i?”

“Gilderoy Lockhart,” spat Niamh.  “Supposed to be an Obliviator according to my copy of Aurors of the Centuries.  Pah.  Obliviator my ass.”

“Niamh!”

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Quite alright, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, patting her hair.  “Oh, we’ll be able to see him in a few moments…”

And she was right.  The crowd moved and they got a clear view of Gilderoy Lockhart, blond and grinning, surrounded by winking pictures of himself and signing books.

“It can’t be…  Harry Potter!”

Harry groaned and attempted to duck down behind Niamh but Lockhart had already spotted him.  Lockhart pulled him forward and held him tightly about the shoulders, smiling cheerfully for a man with a camera that was billowing purple smoke.  Harry coughed and tried to pull away from Lockhart.  When he couldn’t, he smiled evilly.  If he couldn’t get away from Lockhart, he might as well make the position worthwhile…

As Lockhart finished some silly speech and thrust a pile of his books into Harry’s arms, he finally got away, tucking his prize into his pocket.  Staggering over to Ginny, Harry tipped the books into her cauldron.

“‘Ere.  I c’n buy me own.”

Ginny blushed and said, “Thanks, Harry.”

“No trouble, Gin.”

“Harry!” hissed Niamh.  “Did you hear?”

“Wha’?”

“What that Lockhart said?”

“I was busy.”

“Doing wha….  Nevermind, I don’t want to know.  Actually, I do but don’t tell me yet.”

“I was’n plannin’ to.”

“Evil little bastard.”

“Ni.  Wha’ did ‘e say?”

“He’s going to be teaching us DADA!”

“WHAT!!”

“Oh, she’s not going to marry you, Potter?  Such a pity.”

Harry didn’t even have to look to know who it was.  He and Niamh both turned at the same time, teeth bared.

“Malfoy.”

Draco smirked.  “The one and only.”

Niamh snarled, “What do you want, scumbag?”

“Ooo, such a big word for a lowly little Mudblood like you.”

Harry growled and grabbed Draco by the collar of his robes.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, Potter.”

“Why?”

“Because my father just so happens to be right behind you.”

Harry released Draco then turned to look up into Lucius Malfoy’s face.  He wasn’t surprised to see the man looked almost exactly like Draco.

“‘Ello, Mr. Malfoy.  ‘Ow are ye?”

Lucius sneered at him then spotted the Weasley’s, who had also spotted him.

“Arthur.”

“Lucius,” said Mr. Weasley.

Lucius picked up one of Ginny’s books, a rather battered Charms I book.  “A third-rate copy.  Just what I expecting from Muggle-loving scum.”

Mr. Weasley’s face darkened and a moment later he had ploughed into Mr. Malfoy.

“Arthur, no!”

“Go, Dad!” yelled Fred and George, who had just arrived.

Niamh whispered to Harry, “A Galleon says Mr. Weasley gets in a punch before Malfoy.”

“Deal!”

A few moments later…

“Ow.  Encyclopedia of Toadstools right in the eye.  One point for Mr. Weasley!”

“Damn.  I jus’ lost a Galleon.”

“Too bad for you.”

“Bet on who ge’s firs’ blood?”

“Okay.  Mr. Weasley!”

“Malfoy.”

“What?”

“Trus’ me.”

A few more moments later…

“Ha ha!  Ye owe me a Galleon, Ni!”

“Damn!”

“Break it up, gents!”

Hagrid plowed into the crowd and pulled Mr. Weasley and Lucius apart.  Lucius thrust the Charms book at Ginny and snarled, “Here, girl.  It’s the best your father can get you.  Come, Draco.”

As they swept out of the store, Hagrid turned to Mr. Weasley and said, “Yer shouldn’t let him get ter ye, Arthur.  Bad blood that family.”

Mr. Weasley brushed his hand over his lip, which was sporting blood, and said, “I know.”

“Arthur, how could you?  And in front of the children!”

Harry shook his head then nearly fell over when he heard Lockhart asking a reporter if he could put that into his story.  Niamh actually did fall over, only stopping because Harry caught her.  As they left Flourish and Blott’s, she muttered, “What an idiot,” before handing a Galleon over to Harry.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry Potter, you will tell me right now what you are grinning so much about!”

Harry looked calmly up at Niamh from the book on curses Hermione had given him for his birthday.  He arched an eyebrow and asked, “Abou’ what?”

The four of them (Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Niamh) were all up in Ron’s room.  Hermione and Harry were staying for the rest of the summer and Niamh had convinced her aunt to let her as well.

“C’mon, Harrrreeeeeeey!  Please?”

< Please tell her, Harry.  Her whining is annoying me. >

“Jardin!” shrieked Niamh.

The raven smirked mentally then began to preen his wings.  Harry sighed and grumbled, “Alrigh’, alrigh’,” closing his book and sitting it down beside him.

“Yay!” cried Niamh and bounced up and down, clapping.

Ron looked at her like she was crazy then turned to Harry and asked, “What exactly is she talking about?”

Harry grinned mischievously and reached into his pocket, pulling out a large mauve pouch.  He said proudly, “Be’old.  Lock’art’s…”

“..purse?” injected Niamh.

Jardin made a strange sound and Ron burst out laughing.

Hermione looked up from her book then snapped, “Harry!  How could you?”

“Wha’?  Pickpocket i’?  Mione, I may na live on the stree’s anymore, but tha’ does’n mean I can’na use me stree’ skills.”

“That’s still wrong.”

Niamh rolled her eyes then turned back to the…purse.  Smiling, she said, “Open it.”

Harry opened the bag and spilled its contents onto the bed.  Ron and Niamh bounced up onto the bed with Harry while Hermione wandered over and stood.

Niamh picked up a robin’s egg blue comb and curled her lip at it.  “Ick.  I hate that color.”

Harry blinked at the comb then poked through the stuff, coming up with a wad of pictures.

“Oi, ‘e ‘as a picture o’ himself.”

Ron arched an eyebrow and Niamh muttered, “Self-loving prat,” earning a frown from Hermione.

Harry rolled his eyes at all three of them then began to look through the pictures.

“Dear bloody gods…”

“What is it, Harry?”

“’E’s got a picture o’ Professor Snape in here!”

Niamh and Ron looked at each other then back at Harry, who was still staring at the picture.  Ron gave a little shake and then Niamh said, “I just had a thought.  Why would Lockhart have Professor Snape’s picture?”

Harry and Ron looked at each other then it clicked.  Both of them made faces and yelled, “Blearg!!”

Ron looked at Niamh and said, “Niamh, that’s gross.”

“Yes, I know.  Poor Professor Snape.”

“Poor Snape?  What about poor me?  I just got that picture in my head!”

Niamh gave him a Look.

Harry laughed at the both of them then left them to go through Lockhart’s things, taking his book and going over to sit on his cot in Ron’s room.

“Harry!  Ron!  Niamh!  Hermione!  Percy!  Fred!  George!  Ginny!  Let’s go!”

Eight pairs of feet thundered down the stairs, followed by the dull thunks of trunks.  Jardin and Percy’s owl Hermes screeched at the noise and everyone had to cover their ears until they subsided.  After that, they stuffed eight trunks into the Weasley’s Ford Anglia, crammed ten people and two owls and a rat into it, then set off to King’s Cross.

“Fred, move over!”

“I can’t, Percy’s taking up all the room.”

“This is…”

“Argh!”

“…rather uncomfortable.”

“Shut up, Percy!” chorused everyone but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“Fine,” grumbled Percy and pulled out a book.  Harry sighed and shifted underneath Niamh, who had thrown herself over his, Ron, and Fred’s laps.  Ginny was sitting on George’s lap and Hermione was squeezed between George and Percy.  Hermes was in his cage up front and Jardin had taken a perch on top of Niamh.

< Oh, this is rather comfortable. >

Shut up, Jar.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Stupid thing.  Open!”

“Niamh!  Shhh!”

“What?”

“People are staring.”

Niamh glared at the aforementioned people and they moved quickly away.

“Problem solved.  Now, if we could get back to the original problem…”

“Is sarcasm an automatic Slytherin trait?”

Niamh scowled and Harry decided to get in-between his two friends before a fight broke out.

“Alrigh’, ye two.  Enough.  Okay, so the barrier woan open.  We need ter figure out some other way ter get ter Hogwarts.”

“The car!”

“What?” said Niamh and Harry.

“The car!” said Ron again.  “We can take the car!”

“A brilliant idea, Ron, but one question.  Who’s going to drive?”

“Me, of course.”

Niamh moaned and muttered, “Slytherin save us,” before grabbing the trolley with her trunk and following Ron back towards the car.  Harry followed them, wondering if there was some other way besides the car that they could get to Hogwarts.

By the time he got out to where the car had been parked, Ron and Niamh had already plunked their trunks into the boot.  They shoved Harry’s in then scrambled inside, Ron and Harry into the front and Niamh into the back.  Ron started the car and with a grin, punched a button.  As they watched, they entire car disappeared around them.

“Whoa,” breathed Niamh.

Ron grinned some more then punched another button.  A few minutes later they were heading up towards the clouds.  That’s when the car reappeared around them.

“What?”

“PUNCH IT AGAIN!” screamed Niamh.

Harry and Ron pummeled the button but it didn’t work.

“THE CLOU’S!” bellowed Harry, pointing.  Ron aimed the car up and they were hidden by the fluffy white clouds.  Niamh snarled, “Car can turn invisible, can it?  Car can fricking not turn invisible and we probably got spotted by a Muggle!  You know that right?”

Ron blinked while Harry nodded.  Jardin sighed and said, < We’re going to be in trouble. >

“You?” snapped Niamh.  “You mean, the three of us are going to be in trouble.  You’re a raven.  Nobody but us knows you can talk.”

Ron said, “Please don’t do that.  It’s weird.”

“What?”

“Talk to him out loud.”

Niamh scowled.  Harry frowned then asked, “Ron, c’n ye hear Jardin?”

Ron shook his head.  “Only when he’s talking directly to me.  I think it’s only you two that can hear him when he says something that’s not directed at anyone.”

“Wow.  Did that take a lot of thought?” deadpanned Niamh.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Yes, I thought so too.”

Harry sighed and looked out the window.  It was going to be a long drive – er, flight.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Almost there!”

Harry was jolted out of sleep by Ron’s cheerful voice.  Rubbing his eyes, he peered out through the windshield.  They were flying below the clouds and he could see the lights of Hogwarts up ahead of them.

< Oh, look.  Home sweet home. >

“Shut up, Jar,” snapped Niamh and Harry.

Ron frowned slightly at them then said, “Okay, down we go.”

Niamh muttered, “Buckle up,” and moved to fasten her seatbelt.  Harry did the same, ignoring Jardin’s complaint about him not having one.

As the car began to drift lower there was a sputtering sound.  The three of them look at each other then back towards the ground.  The lower they went, the louder the sound got.  Ron kept muttering, “C’mon, c’mon…  Just a few more feet!”

They didn’t make it.  The car’s engine gave out and they all looked at each other for a moment before they fell.

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

< AHHHHHHHHH! >

THUNK!

Ron said, “Well, we’re okay.”

Niamh groaned and growled out, “Ronald Weasley, so help me if you ever convince me to drive with you in a car again…Harry will kill me.”

“Wha’?  No, I woan!”

“Harry!”

“No.”

“Fine.”

Thunk!

“What was that?”

Thunk!  Thunk!  Thunk!

< Something’s hitting the roof! > yelled Jardin at all of them.

“What?” asked Ron.

Thunk!  Thunk!  Thunk!  Thunk!  Thunk!

“PUNCH IT!” bellowed Niamh.

“THE ENGINE’S DEAD!” yelled Ron back.

“PUNCH IT ANYWAY!!”

Ron pummeled the gas, turning the key at the same time.  The engine rattled to life and they shot away through a frenzy of moving branches.  Harry ducked as one came towards his window, shattering the glass.

“FASTER!”

“I’M GOING AS BLOODY FAST AS I CAN!”

“ARGH!!”

Finally they broke free of the tree and Ron stopped the car, the three of them slumping in their seats.

Ping!

“What was that?” asked Niamh.

Thunk!  Thunk!  Thunk!

“Erm…” said Ron.

Suddenly the car doors flew open and their seats tipped, slinging them out onto the ground.  Jardin, cawing loudly, took off out Harry’s broken window and flew up towards the castle.  The car, meanwhile, slammed its doors closed and rumbled off into the Forbidden Forest.

Ron got up and waved his fist after it, roaring, “OI!  COME BACK HERE!”

Harry shook his head and said, “‘Opeless, Ron.  It’s gone.”

“Bloody hell.  Mum’s going to kill me!”

Niamh said, “Worry about your mother later.  We’ve got to get up to the castle.”

The two boys nodded and grabbed their trunks, the three of them starting up to the castle.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Damn, we missed the Sorting.”

“What?  What’d Ginny get?”

“How should I know?  You want me to look at everyone with red hair in the Great Hall?”

“Yes.”

“Are you mad, man!”

“No.”

Niamh rolled her eyes then frowned.  “I wonder where Professor Snape is…”

“Sick?” suggested Ron hopefully.

Harry and Niamh scowled at him and he blanched.

“Oookay.  Erm…working?”

“Or perhaps he is wondering why the three of you did not arrive on the train.”

The three students turned to see Snape towering above them, a black bird sitting on his shoulder.  Harry blinked then exclaimed, “Jardin!”

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” said Snape.  “Your raven came into my office like a Hellhound was after him.  Speaking of my office, why don’t we visit it?”

It wasn’t a question.

“Leave your trunks here.  I will inform the house-elves to take them to your dormitories.”

Harry, Ron, and Niamh nodded then followed Snape down towards the dungeons, Jardin flitting over to Harry’s shoulder as they went.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“So, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, and Miss O’Feir.  Decided to fly here did you?”

Ron turned a shade of pasty white while Niamh choked, “I-I don’t know what you mean, professor.”

Snape held up a newspaper.  The front-page title read MUGGLE’S REPORT FLYING FORD ANGLIA.  A picture of the Weasley’s old turquoise car was below it.  Harry heard Ron gulp audibly.

“And I saw that you made quite a mess of the Whomping Willow.”

“Tree did more damage to us than we did to it, professor.”

“Silence, Miss O’Feir!  Now, Weasley, the decision to expel you does not lie with me, else you’d already be back home.  However, Miss O’Feir, Mr. Potter…”

Now Harry heard Niamh gulp audibly.  He was scared too but he wasn’t showing it.  He did not want to have to go back to his aunt and uncle’s after the way the Weasley’s and Niamh had broken him out.

“Mr. Potter, why did you not think of sending your raven with a message?”

Snape had changed the subject.  Harry sighed and said, “I ‘ad na thought o’ it till we were ‘alfway here, professor.”

“I see.  A pity you did not think of it earlier, Potter, but it was good that you did think of it.”

Snape rose and left suddenly, snapping at them to stay put.  As soon as he was gone, Ron moaned, “My mum is going to kill me!”

Harry patted his friend on the shoulder then look at Niamh.

“Ni?  Ye okay?”

“Yeah.  Fine, Harry.  God, what if we get expelled?  I can’t go back to my parents!”

“I know, Ni.  I can’na go back ter me aunt and uncle’s either.”

“So, what are we going to do?”

Harry sighed and looked at his two friends before sinking down in his chair and latching his eyes onto a phial full of an emerald green substance up on one of Snape’s shelves.  He said, “Cross our fingers, I ‘spose.”

Suddenly Snape returned with McGonagall in tow.  Ron yelped and quickly covered his mouth.  Snape smirked at him.

McGonagall frowned down at Ron and said, “Explain.”

Ron quickly launched into an explanation, stuttering worse than Quirrell had.

“And you didn’t think to send a letter with Mr. Potter’s owl?”

“Raven, professor.”

McGonagall frowned at Harry then at Jardin before turning back to Ron.

“Well, Mr. Weasley?”

“No, professor.  We didn’t think.”

“That, Mr. Weasley, is obvious.”

Ron winced then fell off his chair when the door opened again and Dumbledore entered Snape’s office.  Niamh’s jaw fell and Harry went rigid in his chair.  Dumbledore looked down at them and said, “Miss O’Feir, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley.  Please explain why you did this.”

This time Harry told the story as Ron was too embarrassed to speak and Niamh was still staring at Dumbledore.  He found that he couldn’t meet any of the three professors eyes.  He didn’t care about McGonagall but something made him feel bad to have Dumbledore and Snape looking at him with clear disappointment in their eyes.

“We’ll get our things, then,” said Ron gloomily.

“Pardon, Mr. Weasley?”

“We’re-we’re expelled aren’t we?”

Dumbledore allowed a small smile.  “Not today, Mr. Weasley.  But, I must warn you, if anything such as this happens again, I will be forced to expel you.  I will, however, how to inform your families of this.”

Ron fell out of his chair again.

“Now, I shall leave you two to decide their punishment, Minerva, Severus.”  With that Dumbledore left and the two professors turned on their students.

“Get up, Weasley.”

Ron pulled himself back up into his chair under Snape’s sneer.

“Professors?” quavered Niamh.  “Erm – since term hadn’t actually started when we took the car, so…”

“You don’t believe points should be taken,” finished Snape.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Then points shall not be taken.”

“Severus!”

“Miss O’Feir is right, Minerva.  However, if you want to take points from your house and lose the Cup again this year, please, be my guest.”

McGonagall turned a nasty shade of purple then dragged Ron out of Snape’s office.  As the door slammed behind her, Snape smirked and said, “Ah, she’s so easy.”  He then turned on Harry and Niamh and said, “Harry, Niamh, I’m very disappointed in the both of you.  You’re my best students but this incident has made the two of you look worse than Crabbe and Goyle.”

Harry and Niamh winced at being compared to the two Slytherin’s that followed Draco around.

“I hope I won’t have reason to be disappointed in the two of you again.  Now, if you two are hungry…”

Snape waved his wand at his desk, where a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice appeared along with three goblets.

“A little food would not hurt anything.”

Harry and Niamh looked at each other then said, “Thank you, professor,” before digging into the sandwiches.  Snape watched them with a raised eyebrow for a moment then poured pumpkin juice into the third goblet and took a sip.  As the two students ate, he said, “Of course, the two of you will have detention with me tomorrow night.”

“Yes, sir,” said Harry and Niamh.  Harry offered a corner of his sandwich to Jardin, who ate it with gusto.

< Mmm.  Turkey.  Needs some spiders. >

Harry laughed, earning an amused look from Snape and Niamh.

“Something you’d like to share with us, Harry?”

“Erm – well, see,  Jardin ‘ere can – um – talk.”

< Oh, that’s a really spiffing explanation. >

Shut up, Jar.

Snape smirked – no, smiled – and said, “Yes, I know.”

“Really?  How?” asked Niamh.

Snape smiled again and said, “Let us say that I am familiar with the type of creature Jardin is.  The Headmaster’s phoenix is one as well, I believe.”

“‘E is,” said Harry.  “Jar told us.”

“‘Told us’?  The both of you can hear him?”

Harry and Niamh nodded.

“Well, well.  That’s interesting.  Ah, you’re finished.  Well, off with the both of you.  And if you wouldn’t mind not mentioning anything said here to your fellow Housemates…”

Niamh grinned and said, “Our lips are sealed, sir.”

Snape smiled.  “Good, good.  Off with you then.”  He ushered the two of them out of his office and closed the door after them.  Harry and Niamh grinned at each other then set off down the hall to where the door to the Slytherin dormitories lay hidden.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Well?”

“Well, what, Albus?”

“What did you do to them, Severus?  I’ve been dying to know ever since I left your office.”

“Gave them detention,” said Snape with a shrug as he moved one of the black chess pieces.  The black queen smashed the white bishop to the board then drug him off to the side.

Dumbledore arched a white eyebrow.

“Only detention?  Severus, that could ruin your reputation.”

“Pah.  You know how I treat my Slytherins, Albus.  I don’t give them half the detentions I give the other houses.”

“I believe the Ravenclaws had less than others from you.”

“Only because my mother was a Ravenclaw.  I simply do not feel right given detentions to students in her old house.”

Dumbledore nodded and carelessly moved a white knight forward into striking range of a black bishop.  Snape took the knight easily.

“And what of your father’s house, Severus?”

“You know very well how I treat that house, Albus.”

“Yes, you treat the Gryffindors rather a bit too harshly.”

“You wish me to stop?”

“Certainly not.  You would not listen anyway, would you, child?”

Snape smirked as he took a white pawn.

“No.”

“Ah, you see.  By the way, what did you think of the incident tonight?”

“I thought Harry was rather foolish to have not thought of sending Jardin.  I’m surprised Jardin did not suggest it.”

< That raven is not as smart as you think he is. >

Dumbledore looked at Fawkes and said, “Ah, you know that’s not true.”

< Really? > said the phoenix in an amused tone.  Snape smiled then moved another piece on the board.

“Check.”

“Really?  How interesting.  So, again, what did you think of the incident tonight?”

“I think Mr. Weasley and Miss O’Feir dragged Harry along.”

“I believe I remember a young third year who, when his father refused to let him return to Hogwarts, flew here on his broomstick with his trunk tied to it.”

Snape flushed slightly.

“I was a third year, professor.”

“Yes, I know.  But I believe your son had inherited your inert belief that some things should be jumped into, not slid into.”

“Albus…”

“Checkmate.”

“What!”

Dumbledore chuckled and rose, leaving Snape to stare down at the chessboard.

“And the first class of the day is…damn!”

“Wha’?”

“Ah, we get the lovely joy of looking at – no, excuse me – through Binns face this morning.”

“HoM firs’?  Wha’ are they thinkin’?”

“Obviously that we Slyth’s have no need for work today and should be put to sleep by another astounding lesson on goblin rebellions.”

“‘Ave ye ever noticed that’s all ‘e talks abou’?”

“Yes.  Strange, isn’t it?”

“Yep.  Well, a’ least we ‘ave Potions afterwards.”

“Ah yes.  I have the joy of seeing all of the lovely Gryffindor faces.  Y’know, with the exception of the Weasley’s and Hermione, I hate the Gryff’s.”

“Y’know, the res’ o’ the Slyth’s think we’re crazy ‘cause o’ tha’.”

“Ah, bugger to them.”

“Hey, guys.”

Harry and Niamh looked up from their conversation and said, “Hi, Ginny.”

Then they did a double take.

Niamh asked, “Gin, what are you doing over here?”

Ginny simply pointed at her house badge and Niamh’s eyes widened.  Harry said simply, “Welcome ter Slytherin, Gin.”

Ginny smiled and sat down across from them.  She said, “It’s not as bad as Fred and George made out.”

Niamh grinned.  “Of course its not.  Me and Harry are here, aren’t we?”

Ginny nodded.  “Yeah.”

“Ah, don’t worry, Gin.  We’ll keep the yokel’s off you.  Harry and me have a rather…interesting reputation…”

Ginny blinked at them and Harry grinned.

“Known far an’ wide fer our immaculate knowledge o’ curses an’ hexes.”

“And our scowls,” added Niamh with a grin.

Harry nodded then looked up.

“Damn.”

“Wha…  Damn.  And I was going to have a good few minutes before being bored to death in HoM!”

Ginny blinked at them and asked, “What?”

“Malfoy,” growled Harry and Niamh, sending identical glares down the table at the blond.  If looks could kill, Draco would have been dead.

“Well, hello Potter, O’Feir.  And a Weasel.  What are you doing here, Weasel?”

Niamh rose out of her seat and snarled, “She’s got as much right to be here as you do, Malfoy.  No, wait.  I was wrong.  She has more of a right to be here than you do.”

Draco sneered then saw Ginny’s house badge.

“What!  A Weasel in Slytherin!”

Harry rose out of his seat now, eyes flashing and his right hand on his wand.

“Sod off, Malfoy.”

“Or what, Potter?  You’ll curse me?  There are teachers in the room.”

“Ye think I’m scared o’ cursing ye when there’s teachers ‘round?”

“Yes.”

Harry laughed harshly then hissed, “Well, I’m na.”

“Harry!” hissed Niamh, prodding him in the side and hissing, “Dumbledore!”

Harry shot a glance up at the staff table, where Dumbledore was watching him intently, motioning a rising McGonagall to sit down.  Turning back to Draco, he snarled, “I’m na afraid of ye, Malfoy.  Mess wi’ Ginny an’ ye mess wi’ me an’ Ni.”  He narrowed his eyes and continued, “An’ ye really doan wan’ ter do tha’, do ye?”

Draco paled, eyes widening, then gained back his composure.  He sneered at Harry and spat, “I’m not afraid of you or O’Feir, Potter.  You had better watch your back.”  With that he turned and walked down the table.

Niamh sneered at his turned back as she sat down and snarled, “The bloody bastard!  I’d like to show him how scared he should be of me!”

Harry sat down again and growled, “Shut i’, Ni.  ‘E’s plen’y scared.”

“Yeah.  Of you, Mr. I-Beat-Up-Draco-Malfoy-Twice-And-Hate-His-Guts.”

“Ni.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Niamh scowled at him but he ignored it, turning back to Ginny.  Smiling, he said, “Doan worry, Gin.  ‘E woan mess wi’ ye wi’ me and Ni ‘round.”

Ginny smiled weakly and said, “Thanks, Harry.”

“No trouble, Gin.”

Harry grinned then looked up at the Head Table.  His eyes met Dumbledore’s and the older wizard nodded.  Harry grinned then looked down at Snape, who was watching him with…pride?

“C’mon, Harry.  Let’s go see Binns lovely face.  C’mon, Gin, you can walk with us.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“You flew in the car?”

Harry nodded as the left the Great Hall.  Niamh had begun telling the story of yesterday’s events as soon as they had got up and Ginny had been listening intently.

“Hey, Harry!  I was wondering if I could borrow your…”  Ron’s voice trailed off as he ran up and spotted Ginny.

“…charms book.”  His eyes flicked to her house badge then back up to her face, which had turned white.

Ginny began, “Ron….”

“No.  Tell me it’s a joke.”

Ginny shook her head.  “It’s not a joke, Ron.”

Ron’s face turned red and he spat, “You slimy Slytherin!”

“Ron!” shrieked Niamh, throwing an arm about Ginny’s shoulders.

“Slytherin!  How could you, Ginny?  How could you?”

“Ron…”

“No!  I don’t want to talk to you, you Slytherin.  I want nothing to do with you!  Your not my sister!”

Harry stepped forward, hand on his wand.  “Ron, stop bein’ a prat.”

Ron whirled on him.

“A prat, am I?  Ginny’s a Slytherin, Harry.”

“So’m I.  Ye goin’ ter disown me too, Ron?”

Ron turned red then shot off down the hallway.  Harry turned back to Ginny and Niamh, the former of which was sobbing into the latter’s shoulder.  Niamh gave Harry a sad look before glaring at something over his shoulder.  Harry whirled, pointing his wand at the group of students standing in the doorway.  He snarled, “Ge’ los’.  There’s nothin’ ‘ere ter see.”

A few of them skittered backwards but most stayed.  Harry scowled at them then turned back to Ginny and Niamh.  He said, “Le’s ge’ ‘er back ter the common room.”

Niamh nodded and they both took a hold on Ginny, leading her towards the dungeons and the Slytherin dormitory.

“Oi!  Let us through!”

Fred and George suddenly burst through the crowd and ran after them.

“Harry!  Niamh!  Wait up!”

Harry and Niamh stopped, throwing glares over their shoulders at the twins, who blinked at them in confusion.  Niamh snarled, “What?”

“We wanted to see how Gin was,” replied George.

“Heard what Ron said,” added Fred.

“The bloody prat.”

Fred and George were practically snarling.  Niamh tightened her arm around Ginny and snapped, “Bloody git’s more like it.  I hope the two of you don’t see Ginny as he does.”  She glared at them coldly as she said this, joined by Harry a moment later.  The twins shuffled their feet under their cold glares.

“No,” mumbled George.

“Not in the slightest,” echoed Fred.

Niamh nodded sharply and Harry said, “Goo’.  Talk some sense inter Ron, will ye?  I wou’ but I doan think ‘e’ll listen ter me.”

Fred and George nodded then Fred leaned forward and softly asked, “Ginny?  Gin?”

Ginny lifted her head, eyes puffy and red and smiled.  She wrenched herself free from Niamh and Harry, throwing herself onto Fred, who hugged her.  She then hugged George before hugging the both of them at the same time.

Niamh smiled then said, “You two’d better get to class.”

Fred asked, “What about you three?”

“Break for personal matters.  Me and Harry have already got detention with Snape.  He’ll understand.”

Fred and George snorted.  George then said, “We’ll talk to Ron.”

“Don’t know what his problem is,” said Fred.

“Nope.  Not at all.”

“After all…”

“…Niamh’s a Slyth…”

“…and your okay.”

“So’s Harry…”

“…he’s almost okay.”

“Oi!” said Harry, grinning.

Fred and George grinned in return then set off after hugging Ginny once more.  Niamh and Harry wrapped their arms about Ginny again and they set off towards the dungeons.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“I can’t believe Ron actually said that!”

< He was angry. >

“That’s no excuse and you know it, Jar!” snapped Niamh irritably at the raven.  It was after classes and she, Harry, and Ginny were sitting in a corner of the common room in three plush chairs.  Jardin had made his way down from the Owlery and was perched on the back of Harry’s chair, preening the feathers of his left wing.

< Perhaps.  But, look at it this way.  Ginny is the youngest, Ron’s little sister.  The entire family is made up of Gryffindors.  They obviously expected Ginny to be one too. >

Niamh frowned at that then turned to Ginny.

“That comment spurs my question.  Gin, how did you get in Slytherin?”

Ginny shrugged slightly and replied, “I-I told the hat I wanted to be myself, not overshadowed by my brothers.”

“Ye wanted power,” muttered Harry.

“I guess so…”

Niamh nodded and said, “Well, that’s definitely a Slyth trait.  I told the hat something of the same sort.”

“Really?” said Ginny.

“Yep.  Hey, Harry, what’s your story with the good ole’ Sorting Hat?”

Harry blinked and sat up slightly from his slouched position in the chair.

“Well…  ‘I tol’ me I had plen’y o’ courage, a good mind, lots o’ talent, and a….ah! – a thirs’ ter prove myself.  I tol’ i’ ter put me anywhere and ‘ere I am.”

Niamh arched an eyebrow and said, “Courage, aye?  I suppose so.  Must’ve took courage to pickpocket that purse off Lockhart.”

Harry looked at her in amusement for a moment then burst out laughing.  He said, “Na courage, Ni.  Ye could ‘ave gotten tha’ out o’ ‘is pocket.”

Niamh laughed while Ginny asked, “What purse?”

Still laughing, Niamh launched into the story of the meeting in Flourish and Blott’s and Harry’s pickpocketing of Lockhart’s – ahem – purse.  By the time she was done the three of them were laughing loudly with Jardin looking on in amusement while the few other people who came into the common room stared at them.

Niamh, Harry, and Ginny were eating breakfast at the Slytherin table when Niamh looked up and said, “And today on the agenda: Malfoy, the most annoying braggart in the world.”

“What?” asked Ginny, blinking at her.

Harry jerked him thumb down towards the other end of the table, where Draco was sneering at them.

“As I said, the most annoying braggart in the world.  Say, Harry, have you put the finishing touches on that lovely little hex you thought up?  I was wondering if I could use it on Dirt-For-Brains down there.”

“Na yet, Ni.  I still ‘aven’t figured ou’ how to keep the thing ye cast it on from explodin’ afterwards.”

Ginny wrinkled her nose and moaned, “Ewww.”

Harry nodded and said, “Spider par’s all over the floor.  Jar cleaned ‘em up though.”

Ginny shook her head and said, “Harry, that’s just…gross.”

Harry smiled.  “I know.”

“You don’t mind it?”

“Gin, Jar ate spiders a’ me aunt an’ uncle’s.  I’m used ter i’.”

Ginny shivered and said, “That’s still gross.”

“Yeh.  Ni, what are ye doin’?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Bashing your head against the table,” said Ginny.

“Exactly.”

“Why?” asked Harry and Ginny.

Niamh looked up then dug a sheet of paper out of her pocket, handing it to Harry.

“Look.  Look at what he have first.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“What is it?”  Ginny craned her neck to try and peer at the piece of paper but Harry handed it back to Niamh.

“Lock’art.  We’ve got ‘im firs’.”

“Surely he can’t be that bad.”

Niamh said, “Gin, according to my book, he’s a bloody prat who was stripped of his title as an Obliviator because of some misfired memory charm on a little kid.”

“What book?”

By then Niamh was already up and going to class.  Harry sighed and rose to go after her, leaning close to Ginny.

“Aurors of the Centuries.  She bough’ i’ over the summer according ter Mione.  See yer later, Gin.”

“Yeah, see you, Harry.”

Harry smiled at her and patted her shoulder before heading off after Niamh.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“And now – the idiot parade.”

Harry glanced sideways at Niamh as Lockhart entered the room, beaming brightly at the Slytherins, who were all looking at him rather sickeningly except for Pansy and Millicent.  Niamh rolled her eyes at them and ducked down behind her books.  The two of them had been first in the class and had taken the seats back in the darkest corner, piling their books up on the desk in front of them so they wouldn’t have to look at Lockhart.

“Welcome!  I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Memory of the Dark Force Defense League (Niamh snorted here), and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award – but I don’t talk about that.”

Niamh snorted again and muttered, “Suuuure you don’t.”

Harry shook his head at her and wondered what was next.

“Ah, you all have a set of my books.  So…let’s take a little quiz to see how much you’ve taken in!”  He smiled cheerfully at them and Niamh made a hacking sound.

As soon as they got their tests, the two of them blinked at it.

“You have thirty minutes!” said Lockhart with another bright smile.

Niamh gagged and read the first three questions under her breath.

“‘What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?’ ‘What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?’  How in the heck should I know?  ‘What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?’  What sort of questions are these?  Harry, mate, have you read these?”

“Yeh.”

“Any ideas?”

“Na.”

“Me neither.  By the way, what sort of name is Gilderoy?  Eh?  Any ideas?”

Harry gave her an amused look then hunched over the test.

Some time later…

“Alright, papers up!”

Lockhart gathered the papers and shuffled through them in front of the class.

“Hardly any of you remembered by favorite color is lilac.  A few of you should read over my books again…”

Niamh gagged again and Harry struggled to keep from laughing.

“…but Miss Parkinson managed to answer all my questions correctly!  Where is Miss Parkinson?”

Pansy raised her hand tentatively and Lockhart beamed his blinding smile.

“Five points!”

Pansy flushed darkly and ducked her head.

“And Miss O’Feir…  You didn’t answer any of my questions.  Where is Miss O’Feir?”

Niamh cursed and lazily held up her hand.  It took Lockhart a moment to see it.

“Ah, Miss O’Feir.  Is there any reason why you did not answer my questions?”

“Yes, sir.  I had soooooo much to do over the summer I found no time at all to read your books.  I promise it’ll never happen again.”

Lockhart beamed and said, “Very good, Miss O’Feir.”

Niamh dropped the false smile she had put on and muttered, “It might also be the fact that you sicken me and you are nothing but an air-headed prat.”

Harry coughed to cover his laughter, earning the attention of the Slytherin’s around them.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?”

Harry, still coughing slightly, sat up and said, “No, sir.  Nothin’ wrong at’tol.”

Lockhart beamed at him and Harry and Niamh both gagged.  Niamh growled, “He does that one more time and I swear I’ll hex him.  I’ll hex him till nobody recognizes him!”

Harry whispered, “Ge’ on, then!”

“What!  Are you mad?”

Harry grinned.  “I knew ye would’n do i’.”

“What!  I’ll do it!  Just…not right now.”

“Sure, Ni.  Suuuure.”

“You doubt me?”

“Mmm…  Yeh.”

Lockhart’s voice brought them back to attention as he announced the first creature they would be looking at.

“Freshly caught Cornish pixies!”

Up in the front row Mika Davids snorted with laughter just as Niamh fell out of her chair.  Harry looked down at her in amusement and asked, “Comfy?”

“Oh, yes.  It’s absolutely wonderful down here on the floor.  Oh, look!  A pink flower.”

Harry snorted with laughter and tried to pay attention to what was going on.  But the sound of something being shredded under the table was distracting.

“Die you annoying little flower.  DIE DIE DIE!!”

Suddenly Lockhart said, “Let’s see what you make of them!”

And opened the cage.

Electric blue pixies shot everywhere, zipping out the window, grabbing inkwells, tossing books.  Two even picked up Draco and began to spin him around the room.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

And still Niamh pounded the flower.

“DIE DIE DIE!  DIE YOU SODDING…”

Harry ducked under the table as an inkwell full of green ink came flying at his head.  It smashed against the wall, causing Niamh to look up from her task.

“Harry?  What are you doing down here?”

Harry simply pointed at the pandemonium around then and she heaved a sigh, shaking her head.

Lockhart, meanwhile, pulled up his sleeves, pulled out his wand, and bellowed, “Peskipiksi Pesternomi!”

A pixie grabbed his wand and threw it out the shattered window.  Lockhart whimpered and dived under his desk.  Niamh laughed and crowed, “I knew it!”

“Knew wha’,” asked Harry.

“He’s an idiot.”

“Ahhhh.”

“Yeah.  C’mon, let’s get out of here?”

“‘Fore class ends?”

“Yep.”

“Goo’ idea.”

The two of them picked up their bags and inched towards the door.  As soon as they were close they stood and opened it.

“Miss O’Feir!  Mr. Potter!”

Harry and Niamh turned to look at Lockhart, who was peering out from under his desk.

“Where are you going?”

Niamh looked at her watch, smiled, then pointed upwards at the ceiling.  A moment later the bell rang and there was a mad dash for the door.  Grinning, Niamh closed the door behind herself and Harry as they left last, watching Lockhart trying to wrestle his hat out of a chattering pixies grasp.  They headed for their next class (Charms) laughing their heads off.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“So, Gin, what did you guys do in DADA today?”

Ginny looked up from writing in a small black book and blinked.  “What?  Oh, nothing.  Class was canceled.”

Harry and Niamh glanced at each other.  Niamh then said, “Canceled, you say.”

“Yep.”

“Any idea why?”

“Something about ‘pick-axes’ or something….”

“Pixies?” suggested Harry.

“Yeah, that’s it!”

Harry and Niamh exchanged another glance then burst out laughing.  Ginny blinked at them and asked, “What’s up with you guys?”

“Nothing!” cried the two second years around their laughter.  Ginny shook her head at them then took her book and vanished into the girl’s dormitory, leaving the other two laughing their heads off.

“Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry!”

Harry groaned and said, “‘Ello, Colin.”

The first year Gryffindor beamed at him and cheerfully asked, “Where you are you going?”

“Quidditch practice.  Why?”

“Ooo!  Quidditch!  I’ve never seen a game played before.  Are there actually four balls?”

“Yeh,” replied Harry sullenly, hoping the younger boy would go away.

He didn’t.

“Harry!  Oh, hello, Colin.”

Colin grinned at Niamh and said, “Hey!  Coming to Quidditch practice too?”

Niamh looked at Harry who shrugged then turned back to Colin.

“Erm, Colin, you do know that this is a Slytherin Quidditch practice, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well – wouldn’t you be safer at the Gryffindor one?”

“I don’t think so…”

Niamh moaned and hung her head.  “Nevermind, Colin.”

Harry sighed and shifted his Nimbus 2001 on his shoulder.  He had his cloak on over his green and silver Quidditch robes as it was early in the morning and promised to be cold.  Also there was the fact that the dungeons were freezing.  Niamh herself was bundled up in her cloak and green and silver Slytherin scarf while Colin was only wearing his robes.  The three of them left the school, walking across the grounds towards the pitch.  When they entered the stands, Niamh and Colin headed upwards while Harry headed out onto the field where the rest of the team was waiting.

“Potter!  It’s about time!”

Harry sighed and said, “Sorry.  La’e breakfast.”

Flint scowled and growled, “Whatever.  Let’s get in the air!”

The team mounted their brooms and kicked off into the air.  Harry had a second’s trouble controlling the Nimbus, which he hadn’t rode since he’d gotten it, but he easily got it under control.  It was a much better broom than the old school broom he had been riding.  As he flew he heard the shutter flash of a camera and groaned.

One of the Beaters, Bole, yelled, “What’s that Gryffindor doing in the stands?”

Harry moved down to hover beside him and said, “Colin Creevey.  ‘E’s been following me ‘round fer a while.”

Flint now was beside them, his face stern.

“Gryffindor spy?”

Harry shook his head.

“Na.  Too…‘appy.  ‘E’s na a spy, doan worry.”

Flint frowned then nodded, snapping, “Alright.  Let’s get back to practice.”  They were an hour into practice when there was suddenly movement on the ground below them.

“What?!” bellowed Flint and shot towards the ground.  The rest of the team followed him, all of them but Harry glaring at the Gryffindor team in their scarlet robes.

“The field’s ours,” growled Flint.  “We’ve got another hour.”

“Not anymore,” said Wood, the Gryffindor captain.

“What do you think your pulling, Wood?”

“What do you think your pulling, Flint?  The pitch is booked to us for the next three hours.  McGonagall approved it.”

“Snape approved us!” roared Derrick, the other Slytherin Beater.

“Not anymore,” said Wood.

Flint turned a shade of crimson and snarled, “We’ll see about this.”  With that he charged off the field, the Slytherin team slowly following him.  Harry turned to Fred and George and asked, “Wha’s goin’ on?  We still ‘ad the field fer another hour!”

Fred shrugged and replied, “Wood pulled something with McGonagall.  She wants to win the Cup this year.  Really does.  I can’t believe she’d pull something like this.”

“Seems more like something Snape would do,” said George.  “No offense, Harry.”

“None taken.  Can she do tha’?  Kick us off?”

The twins shrugged.  George said, “Don’t know.  But she just did.  You’d better get going Harry.”

“Before Oliver claims your trying to put a spell on us or something,” added Fred.  “After all, you are the renowned ‘Lord of Hexes’.”

Harry snorted.  “Wha’?”

“Silly little nickname everybody’s been calling you since we found out you know all those hexes and curses.”

Harry shook his head then looked up to see Wood stalking towards the three of them, looking very angry.  He said, “I’ll ge’ off now.  I’ve got a hex to finish workin’ on anyway.”

“Hex?” asked Fred and George in surprise.

“Yeh.”

“You’ll have to show us it when you’re done.”

“You will show us won’t you, Harry?”

“‘O course!” said Harry with a laugh as he turned and headed off the field.  He didn’t see Niamh in the stands but he did see Colin, camera clicking away.  Guessing Niamh had headed back up to the castle after the other Slytherins thinking he was with them, Harry turned in that direction.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Broomstick slung over his shoulder, Harry wandered along the halls, stopping from time to time to talk to the portraits.  As he reached the way that led down into the dungeons he heard an icy voice.  A voice that seemed to be coming from the very walls.

“Come to me…Let me rip you…Let me tear you…Let me kill you…”

Harry gasped and stumbled backwards into the wall, his Nimbus clattering to the floor.  He strained his ears, listening, but the voice was gone.  Leaning down to pick up his Nimbus, he muttered, “What in the soddin’ ‘eck was tha’?”

Eyes flickering along the cold stone walls, he hurried down the stairs and to the door to the dormitories.

“Crucio.”

As the wall slid aside, he grumbled, “Trus’ the ‘Ead Boy ter pick an Unforgivable fer the password.”

He entered the common room and saw Niamh sitting in the darkest corner of the room, a single torch above her head giving her enough light to read.  Harry recognized the big book easily enough.  Walking on silent feet towards her he asked, “Aurors of the Centuries again?”

Niamh yelped and must have leapt six feet.  She glared at Harry as he laughed at her.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“The look on yer face was.”

Niamh glared at him some more but that only caused him to laugh more.  Rolling her eyes, she said, “Oh, shut up.  Go get changed then grab some couch.  You’ve been wanting to look at this book for ages.”

Harry grinned and went to change, returning a few moments later.  He slid onto the couch beside Niamh and they sat the large book in-between them.  Harry completely forgot about the voice.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Two weeks later…

“Halloween, already?”

Harry nodded, not looking up from the book of hexes and curses.

“Yeh.”

“Are you reading that again?  What is this, the second time?”

“Fourth.”

“Fourth!”

“Ni, ye read more than I do.”

“But I don’t read the same book four times!”

Harry glanced up, giving her a skeptical look from under the fringe of black hair that fell over his face.  Niamh sighed and said, “Alright, alright.  I give.”

“Na read the same book four times.  Ha!  If I doan recall, ye’ve read Aurors of the Centuries six times.”

“So?  It’s a good book.”

“So’s this,” said Harry, closed the book and waving it at her before heading into the boy’s dormitory to put it up.  When he returned, he said, “C’mon.  Le’s go find Hermione and Ron.  Is Gin comin’?”

Niamh shook her head.  “I asked her but she said no.  I guess she doesn’t want to see Ron or Percy.”

“They’re still on abou’ i’, are’n they?”

“Yeah.  Silly prats.  At least Fred and George aren’t acting like she’s got the plague or something.”

Harry nodded then said, “Le’s go.”  The two of them left Arx Serpens and headed upstairs towards the Great Hall.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Hmm.  No Ron, no Mione.  Where do you think they are?”

Harry squinted at the Gryffindor table then shrugged.

“Doan know.”

“Should we go look for them?”

“I’ll go.”

“Harry…”

“Oi, I c’n call off Norri, ‘member?  An’ hide from Filch.  I’ll be fine, doan worry.”

Niamh smiled and said, “Alright.  Just don’t get caught.  Don’t want to be pickling toad livers with Snape again, do you?”

“‘Onestly, Ni, i’ was’n tha’ bad.”

Niamh shook her head, still smiling.

“You and your potions.”

“Ye an’ yer Aurors.”

“You and your curses.”

“Ye an’ yer hexes.”

“Alright, alright.  Get going.”

Grinning, Harry rose and crept out of the Hall.  He slipped past snoozing portraits, eyes darting back and forth as he watched for any sign of Filch, Ron, or Hermione.  Or any other wandering student.  Relying fully on his street instincts, Harry slipped down the hallways.

Then he heard it again.  The cold, icy voice that filled him with dread.

“…kill…rip…tear…kill…”

He gasped, grabbing the wall for support.

“…so hungry…sooooo hungry…”

The voice was fading, moving forward.  Down the hallway.  Harry sprang after it, running for all he was worth, ears cocked as he listened for it.

“…kill…rip…tear…kill…time to kill…”

Harry followed it, hurtling up staircases to the second floor.  He vaguely heard feet pounding behind him and two familiar voice yelling, “Harry!  Wait up!”

“…I smell blood…I SMELL BLOOD!”

He kept running until something on the floor in front of him shimmered.  Skidding to a halt, he found himself hovering at the end of a puddle of water.  Looking around he noticed in a corner of his mind that he was right outside the bathroom where he and Ron had rescued Niamh from the mountain troll the year before.  But that wasn’t what he actually did notice.

Painted on the wall in large red letters were words:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.  ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Harry stared at it, not noticing two people come up behind him until one of them tapped him on the shoulder.  He whirled and came face to face with a surprised Ron and Hermione.  Hermione looked up at him (he was a head taller than her) with concerned brown eyes and asked, “Harry, what’s wrong?”

Harry quickly said, “I – I ‘eard a voice.  It was talkin’ abou’ killing!”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

“We didn’t hear anything,” said Ron.

Harry shrugged and turned back to the letters.  That’s when he noticed something hanging from one of the torch brackets.  Inching forward, he recognized it, letting out a low moan.

“Oh, Norri…”

Mrs. Norris was hanging from the bracket, stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

“C’mon, Harry, we’ve got to get out of here.”

“But…  Norri…”

Ron tugged on his arm and growled, “Now!”

But it was too late.  The sounds of footsteps barreling up the stairs echoed down the halls.  A few moments later they were surrounded.  The cheerful voices stopped as soon as everyone saw the cat.  And then their eyes turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Enemies of the Heir, beware!  You’ll be next, Mudbloods!”

Draco shoved his way to the front of the crowd, face flushed.  Harry’s fists clenched involuntarily at the sight of the other boy and he growled, eyes narrowing to furious slits.  Niamh suddenly appeared out of nowhere and threw her arms around him.

“Harry!”

“What’s going on here?”

Filch shoved his way through the crowd of students, face paling when he saw Mrs. Norris.

“My cat!  What happened to her?!”

His eyes scanned the crowd, falling on Harry, who was still glaring at Draco.

“You!  You did this, you…”

“Argus!”

Dumbledore strode forward, followed by the other teachers.  He detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket then said, “Come with me, Argus.  Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, I suggest you come as well.”  He then added, “You may come too, Miss O’Feir.”

“My office is closest, Headmaster…  Feel free…” said Lockhart as he stepped forward.

“Thank you, Gilderoy,” said Dumbledore.  Niamh didn’t even snort at the mention of the name, simply clung to Harry’s arm.  She looked worried.

Snape and McGonagall followed them into the dark office.  As the light went on, there was a flash of movement from the walls.  Pictures of Lockhart were all over the walls and their occupants dashed out of sight when the lights came on.  Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on Lockhart’s desk and began to examine her, McGonagall leaning close over him.  Snape stood looking over them, his face half hidden in shadow but one could see he was trying hard not to smile.  Lockhart hovered around them, making comments.  And it was all punctuated by Filch’s hacking sobs.

Harry, Niamh, Ron, and Hermione were clustered over to the side.  Ron and Hermione were watching Dumbledore and McGonagall while Harry shook his head, eyes closed, Niamh saying something to him in a soft voice.

Dumbledore finally straightened and said, “She’s not dead, Argus.”

Filch jerked as though he had been electrified.  “Wh-what?”

“She’s not dead.  She’s been Petrified.”

“Ah!  I thought so!” said Lockhart, earning a snort from Niamh that in turn earned a half smile from Harry.

Dumbledore continued, “How she came to be Petrified I cannot say…”

“It was him!  Ask him!”  Filch pointed a bony hand at Harry.

“No second year could have done this, Argus,” said Dumbledore.  “It is Dark Magic of the most advanced…”

“It was him, I tell you!  HIM!”

Harry bristled visibly, rage flashing across his features.  Eyes flashing angrily, he bellowed, “I did’n touch Mrs. Norris!”

“LIAR!” shrieked Filch, causing Harry to snarl in rage.  Niamh and Ron grabbed his arms, just in case.

But Harry didn’t make any move forward.  He simply looked coldly at Filch, his voice harsh as he snapped, “Why would I ‘urt Mrs. Norris?  I’ve go’ no reason ter!”

“You hate her!  All you measly brats hate her!”

“Na me!”

The four teachers in the room looked at him.  “What do you mean, Harry?” asked Dumbledore.

Harry took a deep breath and explained.  Filch was shaking his head furiously all the while, as thought refusing to believe it.  When Harry finished, Dumbledore nodded.

“I see…yes, Minerva?”

McGonagall looked at Harry and asked, “What were you doing on the second floor, Potter?  I understand why Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley were there but not you.  Why?”

Harry’s mouth fell open.  He couldn’t very fell tell the teachers he had heard a voice talking about killing.  They’d think he was mad.  He tried to think of an excuse.

But Hermione thought of one for him first.

“Er – he was walking with us, professor!”

McGonagall frowned at her and said, “Don’t try and protect him, Miss Granger.”

“But it’s the truth!”

“Yes, professor, it is,” said Ron.

McGonagall looked sternly at them but was interrupted by Snape.

“Perhaps they were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.”  He turned his black eyes down towards McGonagall’s face and asked silkily, “Is Mr. Potter to be punished for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

McGonagall frowned then said, “Well, where were Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley?  I did not see the two of you at the Feast.”

Hermione and Ron shifted uneasily before answering.  Hermione answered actually.

“Well, professor, Ron got invited to this – erm – party and he wanted me to come.”

“What party?” asked McGonagall.

“Nearly Headless Nick’s deathday party,” mumbled Ron.

“And you didn’t come to the feast afterwards?”

Ron and Hermione shook their heads.  McGonagall frowned at them then said, “Alright.  Though I believe Mr. Potter should be taken off the Quidditch team.”

“What!” cried Harry and Niamh in outrage, echoed by Ron and Hermione.

“You can’t!” shrieked Niamh while Harry scowled at McGonagall, who started at him.  From behind her Snape sneered.

Dumbledore shook his head and said, “Innocent until proven guilty.”  He turned to the four students and added, “You four may return to your dormitories.  Severus, would you escort them?”

Snape nodded and ushered them out of the room as Filch began to scream in outrage.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

As soon as Ron and Hermione were safely back in Gryffindor tower, Snape escorted Harry and Niamh down to the Slytherin dungeon.  Niamh kept look between the two of them, eyes wide.  Neither of them noticed or just simply ignored it.

Harry only spoke once on the way down.

“Ye doan think I did tha’ ter Mrs. Norris do ye, professor?”

Snape smiled gently down at Harry and shook his head.  He softly said, “No, Harry, I do not.  And you will not be taken off the Quidditch team.  Draco’s the reserve and he’d make a much better Beater than a Seeker.”

Harry nodded his acknowledgment while Niamh smiled.  When they finally reached the entrance to the dormitory, Snape bid them goodnight and walked on down the hallway to his personal quarters.  Niamh spoke the password and the two of them went inside.

Harry headed straight for the boys dormitories, not even giving Niamh a second glance.  But Niamh understood how he felt.  She smiled after him then vanished into the girl’s dorm.  Neither of them noticed a pair of bright brown eyes watching them from the most shadowed corner.

“Harry!  Harold James Potter, wake up!”

Harry rolled over as someone tried to wake him by bellowing into his ear.  He pulled the covers over his head and heard a sigh.

“Damn.  Jar!  WHERE’S THAT BLASTED RAVEN WHEN I NEED HIM!!”

“What in the…  What are you doing in here, Mudblood?”

“If you haven’t noticed, Malfoy, we have class today and you five idiots are all late and are hence making me so.  So, if you do not want to be hexed into the next ten centuries, I suggest you not piss me off this morning.  Do we understand each other?”

A pause.

“Yeah.  Sure.”

“Good.  You wake your two-cents-for-brains friends and I’ll wake mine.”

“Two-cents-for-brain Potter?”

“Don’t tempt me, Malfoy.”

“Of course not, oh wondrous Lady Hex.”

“Sod off.”

“Ouch.”

“Braggart.  Harry.  HARRY!”

More shaking.  Harry pulled the covers tighter around him.

“Hex the idiot!”

“Why don’t I hex you, Zabini?”

“Because I really want to see Potter get it.”

“And I’d really like to see you get it, so we’re even.  Now get out of my face before I wipe that stupid little smirk off of it.  The hard way.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Oh shut up, you idiots.  As if I’d want to see the two of you naked, let alone Malfoy here.”

“Hey!”

“Shut up, Malfoy.  You two slugs can hide under your covers till I get Harry up.  ZABINI!”

“What?”

“GET SOME CLOTHES ON!!”

“Aw, c’mon, O’Feir…”

“Do you want me to hex you?”

“…no…”

“Then put some RUDDY CLOTHES ON!!”

Harry rolled over finally and sat up, looking at the room around him.  Crabbe and Goyle were peering out from under their covers at Draco, who was standing in the middle of the room.  Blaise was digging through his trunk under the sharp eye of Niamh, who was standing beside Harry’s bed glaring at the four boys with her wand clenched in her hand.  Harry yawned; stretching, and she whirled upon him, blue eyes blazing.

“It’s about bloody time!  We’re late!”

Harry rubbed his eyes and peered at her.

“For wha’ class?”

“HoM.  But if you don’t get up in – oh…ten seconds…we’re going to be late for Potions!”

“What!”

“That’s what I said.  Now…MOVE YOUR LAZY ARSE!!”

Harry sprang out of bed and ran.  Niamh smiled smugly and remarked, “That’s better.  ZABINI!  I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T GET SOME CLOTHES ON, I WILL FEED YOU TO THE GIANT SQUID!  SAME GOES TO YOU, MALFOY, IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE HEXED AND MISS POTIONS!”

“WHAT!”

“YOU HEARD ME!  WE’VE GOT TWO MINUTES TO GET DOWN THE HALL OR WE’RE LATE!!”

Draco and Blaise looked at each other then dove for their robes.  Harry already had his on and grabbed his bag, dragging Niamh out of the boy’s dorm.  They shot out of the common room into the hall and sprinted down to the Potions classroom, dashing inside.  The few Gryffindors in the room and the other second year Slytherins looked up.  As Harry and Niamh fell into seats at a table on the Slytherin side, Mika turned around and asked, “Where were you two this morning?”

“What?” asked Niamh.  “Did we miss another exciting lesson on Goblin rebellions?”

Mika gave her a friendly smirk; he counted Niamh and Harry as friends and they him.

“Nah.  He actually mentioned the Chamber of Secrets.  After we bugged him a bit about it.  By the way, I didn’t see Malfoy either.”

Another reason why Harry and Niamh counted Mika as a friend.  He disliked Draco as much as them.

“He was still asleep with Harry here.  In fact, all five of them were asleep.  Which spurs a question.  Mika, where do you sleep?”

“In another dorm.  There are – what, Harry? – seven second year boys?  Only five fit in a room so we’re stuck with three of the sixth years.  They’re not too happy about the arrangement.”

“A’ least ye aren’t stuck wi’ Malfoy, his goons, an’ Zabini,” grumbled Harry as he tried to straighten his flyaway hair.

“Good point.”

The bell suddenly rang and Mika turned around just as Snape entered the room, dark eyes looking coldly at the Gryffindors then lightening when they fell on the Slytherins.  Most particularly Harry.  Harry didn’t notice this from trying to get his hair to lie flat but Niamh did, looking between the two of them.  One could practically see the wheels spinning in her head…

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

“OW!” cried four voices and then the door flew open.  Crabbe and Goyle collapsed onto the floor with Draco and Blaise sprawling across them.  Snape arched an eyebrow at them and said silkily, “How good of you to join us, Misters Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini.  Take your seats and don’t forget to close the door.”

The four disentangled themselves and went to their seats, Draco and Blaise taking the table behind Niamh and Harry.  As Snape began to speak, Draco leaned forward and hissed, “I’ll get you back for this, O’Feir.”

Niamh turned and snapped, “Hey, you just be happy I told you.  If I hadn’t, you’d still be asleep and in trouble with Snape.”

Draco scowled at her and she sneered in return before turning back around and starting to work on their potion.  Harry cast a mild glare back at Draco, noticing that he was whispering an awful lot to Blaise.  Then he noticed the piece of Boomslang skin that Blaise was holding.  Which didn’t look too suspicious.

Except for the fact that the potion they were making had no need for Boomslang skin.

Harry looked quickly from the two boys to the list of potions ingredients on the board, trying to think of what Boomslang skin would do to the potion as Niamh only had it half done.  It clicked at the same moment Blaise tossed the skin in a high arch while Snape’s back was turned.

“MOVE!” he roared, grabbing Niamh’s arm and pulling her to the floor.  The potion exploded as soon as the skin hit it, sending olive colored potion and pea-green smoke everywhere.

Snape whirled around and bellowed, “FOOLS!”  He strode over to the cauldron and peered over the edge into it.  Rule number one in the Potions classroom: do NOT put your face (or any other body part) over a cauldron that just exploded.

“Miss O’Feir?”

“Yes, sir?” said Niamh from where she was crushed under Harry, who had landed on top of her when he’d pulled her aside and thrown himself in the same direction.

“Why did you put Boomslang skin in your potion?”

“What?”  Niamh sat up quickly, sending Harry sprawling onto his back.

“Boomslang skin, Miss O’Feir.  Only it causes this type of reaction with this potion.”

“Sir,” said Niamh, “I didn’t have any Boomslang skin out.  I…”  Her voice trailed off as she saw Draco and Blaise snickering behind Snape’s back.

“You two,” she growled, narrowing her eyes at them.  Snape looked at the two, who stopped snickering immediately and put on false innocent looks.

“Malfoy, Zabini, my office.  Now.  O’Feir, clean this up and come down here tonight to redo your potion.  Potter, I suggest you come with her as your potion probably got some of hers in it.  Class is dismissed!  Those of you who were hit by the potion, go to the Hospital Wing.  Madam Pomfrey will sort you out.”  Snape then turned and ushered Draco and Blaise into his office.

“Yesssss,” hissed Niamh as she went to empty her cauldron.  Harry shook his head and drug his cauldron over to the stone sinks to drain it as well.  Only Niamh could be happy that Draco and Blaise got in trouble seconds after she almost had her potion explode in her face.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry and Niamh were walking down the hall to the dungeons after classes that day when they ran into Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was a slight friend of Niamh’s.  She spotted him coming up the hallway towards them and waved cheerfully.

“Hey, Justin!”

He smiled at her then got a horrified look on his face when he spotted Harry.  Quickly he turned and ran in the other direction.

“Wha’ was tha’ about?” asked Harry in confusion.

Niamh shrugged.

“No idea.  C’mon.  I really want to see that hex now that you’ve finally figured out how to do it.  Got your spiders?”

“Doan I always?”

“Yep.  You going to show Fred and George this one?”

“Yeh.  Already promised ‘em.”

“Goody.  Now I have to fear for my life.”

“Na.  Ye’ll have ter fear for yer life when Malfoy finds out about it.”

“Oh, hell yes.”

Harry laughed and he and Niamh continued on their way.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Okay, something really weird is going on.”

“Wha’?”

“Haven’t you noticed that everyone but the other Slyth’s have been looking at you…well – strangely?”

Harry looked up at Niamh from his lunch and said, “Tha’ would depend on yer definition of strange.”

“C’mon, Harry, I’m being serious!”

“So’m I.”

Niamh scowled at him and he sighed.  “Alrigh’, Ni.  Yeh, I ‘ave noticed them lookin’ a’ me strangely.  Why?”

“Well, I was just wondering about something.  First, yesterday Justin runs away at the sight of you.”

“Yeh.”

“And last night I got Mika to tell me about the Chamber of Secrets.”

“An’ the poin’ ter all o’ this is?” asked Harry lazily.

“Harry!  They think you’re the Heir of Slytherin or something because you were there.”

“What!”

“That’s what I thought,” grumbled Niamh.

Harry blinked a few times then looked up as Ginny walked up and sat across from them, looking distraught.

“‘Ey, Gin.  Wha’s wrong?”

Ginny shrugged and sighed, “Nothing…”

Niamh and Harry looked at each other.

“C’mon, Gin, you can tell us.”

“Its nothing, okay!”

Half the table and the Hall looked over at them as Ginny yelled.  Niamh nodded and held up her hands.

“Okay, Gin, okay.  But, remember, me an’ Harry are here for you if you want to talk or something.”

“I know,” whispered Ginny.

Niamh forced a smile then left.  Harry lingered for a moment longer, watching Ginny closely, then left as well.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“And next on our agenda for today…I have no idea.”

“Not a clue?”

“Nope.”

Hermione shook her head at Niamh, who grinned at Harry, who laughed at the both of them.  The three of them were in the library looking for anything on the Chamber of Secrets.  Ron wasn’t with them.  He had taken to avoiding Harry and Niamh like the plague.  Like he avoided Ginny, which was seriously beginning to annoy Niamh.

“Oh, I know!  We could go find Ron and pummel him until he figures out that Ginny being a Slyth isn’t so bad.  How about that?  Would that be good?  How ‘bout it, Harry?  Want to do a little Ron-pummeling?”

Harry gave her a Look and she gave him a feeble smile.

“I guess that’s a ‘no’, then…”

“Yeh,” said Harry irritably as he turned back to the book he was reading.  Although the three of them were supposed to be looking for information on the Chamber of Secrets, he was actually looking for something else.

“Harry, that’s a potions book.”

“I know.”

“Why are you looking for information on the Chamber of Secrets in there?”

Harry fixed Hermione with a dark scowl and replied, “I’m lookin’ fer somethin’ else.”

Hermione shrank away from him so Niamh asked, “And what would that be?”  She hastily added, “If I may ask,” as Harry turned the dark scowl towards her.

“A potion.  Wha’ else?”

Niamh frowned and said, “What potion?”

“I DOAN KNOW!” snapped Harry, standing up.  He earned a glare from Madam Pince but ignored it, scowling darkly down at Niamh and Hermione.  “An’ if yer gonna bug me abou’ i’, I’m goin’ ter leave.”  He grabbed the book and left, already having checked it out with Madam Pince.

“Harry…” began Hermione, rising to go after him, but Niamh stopped her.

“Let him be, Mione.”

Hermione nodded and sat down.  After a moment she whispered, “Did you notice anything – strange – about the way Harry looked just a moment ago?”

Niamh thumbed a page of her book over and said, “Maybe.  Why?”

“Well, I did.  Did you notice who – who he looked like?”

Niamh looked up at Hermione and nodded.

“Professor Snape, Mione.  He looked like Professor Snape.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry’s POV

I stormed out of the library, angry with Niamh and Hermione.  A little voice in my head kept telling me that they had just been curious but I shoved it aside.  I went straight back down to the dungeons and entered the common room, ignoring the looks I got from a few of the first year Slytherins’.  Stalking straight over to the dark corner where Niamh and I usually sat, I flopped into one of the two chairs there and opened the book on my lap, flipping back to the page I had been on.

I read for I don’t know how long, never noticing that Jardin flew in and landed on the arm of my chair.  I only noticed he was there when I found what I was looking for.

“Tha’s i’!”  I punched my fists into the air at the joy of finding it and heard a startled squawk from my right.  Turning, I saw Jardin hop back up to the arm from where I had knocked him to the floor.  He rustled his wings irritably and glared at me.  I winced and said, “Sorry, Jar.”

< Nothing hurt but my feathers and a bit of my pride.  What have you found anyway? >

I glanced around the room and decided it was safe enough to talk to Jar out loud.

“I foun’ the potion Snape ‘ad me help him wi’ last year.”

< Why didn’t you look for it last year? >

“Na enough time.  Bu’ now I’ve found i’.”

Jardin tilted his head at me and asked, < Well, what is it? >

I looked back down at the book.

“Prosapia Potion.  ‘Sposedly i’s ‘sposed to tell ye if yer related to someone.  Shows their person’s paren’s House colors.”

< And the point to all of this is? >

“‘E used my blood in i’, Jar.”

< Yes? >

I looked at the raven and breathed, “The on’y reason ye need blood in this potion is i’ must be the person ye want ter know the paren’s of.  Tha’s why Snape asked me to help ‘im wi’ the potion.  ‘E wanted ter know who me parents are.”

Jardin looked mildly confused.  < Harry, everyone knows who your parents are.  James and Lily Potter. >

“But I doan look li’ either of ‘em, do I, Jar?  Mrs. Weasley tol’ me tha’ ‘erself.  She knew ‘em.  An’ she said I doan look anyt’ing li’ either of ‘em, ‘cept fer my nose and eyes.”  I smiled slightly and continued, “She said those are definitely me mum.”

< So, > said Jardin, preening a wing.  < What are you going to do now? >

“Brew this potion.  I wan’ ter know.  I ‘ave ter know.”

< And what if you find out something you don’t want to know? >

I sighed and leaned back into the chair.

“I guess I’ll ‘ave ter cross tha’ bridge when I ge’ there.”

“Soooo, now what?”

Niamh looked at Hermione, who was sitting beside her.  They were outside by the lake, sitting with their backs to an oak tree.  Ron had nervously joined them – if you could count being dragged along by Hermione as joining.

“I don’t know,” said Hermione.  “Who could it be?”

“Who could who be?”

“The one who opened the Chamber.”

“Ohhhhh.”  Niamh frowned and continued, “Well, who would be attempting to scare all the Muggleborns out of Hogwarts?”

“Malfoy,” said Ron.  “You heard him: ‘You’ll be next, Mudbloods!’”

“Malfoy?” said Niamh skeptically.

“Well, it could be.  Isn’t he always boasting that his entire family has always been in Slytherin?”

“Yes.  We got treated to a good round of that last year.”  Niamh sighed heavily, remembering.

“Soooo,” said Ron, “they could easily be Slytherin’s descendants, passing down the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!”

Niamh shook her head.  “Maybe.  But still…Malfoy?”

“What abou’ Malfoy?”

The three of them looked up to see Harry standing there.

“HARRY!”

“Don’t do that!”

Harry grinned and threw himself on the ground beside Niamh.

“Do wha’?”

Niamh punched his shoulder lightly and growled, “Sneak up on us!”

“I was’n sneakin’.  I was walkin’.”

Niamh punched him again while Hermione shook her head.  Harry grinned again then asked, “So, wha’ were yer all talkin’ about?”

“The possibility of Malfoy being the Heir of Slytherin,” replied Hermione.

Harry’s eyes brows shot up into his hair.

“Malfoy?  Ye must be jokin’.”

“That’s what I said,” said Niamh peevishly.  Hermione frowned at her then looked back at Harry.

“No.  It could actually be him.”

Harry gave her an unidentifiable look then began to laugh.  He shook his head and said, “I – doan – think – so – Mione.”

“And why not?” asked Hermione hotly.

“Well, fer one t’ing, its Malfoy.  ‘E could’na ‘urt anyt’ing.  Fer another…bloody ‘ell, Mione, this is Malfoy we’re talkin’ about!  Are ye insane?”

“Actually,” said Ron, “I suggested it might be Malfoy.  He is a Sly…”  His voice trailed off as Harry, Niamh, and Hermione fixed him with frowns.  “Nevermind.”

“Yeah,” said Hermione dryly.  She turned to Harry and said, “Where have you been lately, Harry?  We haven’t seen you much since last Saturday.”

Harry shrugged.

“‘Ere an’ there.  Ni’s seen me.”

“Actually, I haven’t, Harry.  You’ve been awful sparse in the common room.”

“I’m workin’.”

“Oh what?” asked Niamh and Hermione simultaneously.

Harry shrugged again and replied cryptically, “A potion.”

Niamh rolled her eyes and said, “You and your potions.  Don’t you ever get tired of them?”

“No.”

“God, I swear.  You and Professor Snape are like two peas in a pod.”

“What?” asked Ron.

“Muggle saying,” sighed Niamh, Harry, and Hermione.

“Oh.”

“Anyway…what’s this new potion?”

Harry shrugged and replied, “Nothin’.  I’ve go’ Jar tryin’ ter st – er, borrow some ingredien’s from Professor Snape’s stores.”

“Is that wise?” asked Hermione.  Harry looked at her for a moment then shifted and rose to his feet.

“Goo’ poin’.  I’ll see yer all later.”

With that he walked off, leaving the three of them sitting under the tree.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

The next day…

“Ow.”

“Still hurting?”

Harry rubbed his neck as he and Niamh walked out of Defense.  He had been forced into acting out a scene between Lockhart and the Wagga Wagga Werewolf.  Of course, he was the werewolf.

“Yeh.  Git.”

“I totally agree with you, mate.  But here’s a question.  How how how did he defeat a werewolf?  I mean – they’re what? – ten times stronger than us plus they have those claws.  And! no human emotions.”

Harry looked at Niamh, still rubbing his sore throat, and said, “Goo’ point, Ni.  Ye should point tha’ out next class.”

“An excellent idea!  Oh, don’t you have Quidditch practice?”

“BLOODY ‘ELL!!”

Harry dashed away, running full out for the dungeons.  Niamh shook her head after him and followed at a much slower pace.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Two days later…

“Harry, I don’t care who the Gryffindor Seeker is or if you know them.  I want you to get that Snitch.”

“Alrigh’.”

“No matter what.”

“I GE’ I’, FLINT!!”

Harry scowled furiously at Flint then grabbed his Nimbus 2001, which had been the talk in the Great Hall that morning at breakfast.  The rest of the Slytherin team was armed with Nimbus 2000’s, given to the team by Lucius Malfoy in hope that Draco would become the Seeker instead of a Seeker.  As they walked out onto the field, Draco grabbed Harry’s arm and hissed, “Break a leg, Potter.”  Harry scowled at him and threw off his hand.  He snapped, “Sod off, Malfoy,” then followed the first team out as the reserves dragged Draco away.

“Let’s go, Potter!”

Harry jumped onto his broom and kicked off into the air.  As he flew past Fred, he got a wink from the twin.  Grinning halfway in response, he flew up to hover in front of the other Seeker, a Gryffindor fifth year he didn’t recognize.

“So, your, Potter.”

“Yeh.”

“Weird accent.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the Gryffindor and drawled, “Well, ye grow up on th’ streets and yer accent wou’ be weird too.”

“Jeez, no wonder you’re a Slytherin.”

Harry snarled and looked down as Madam Hooch released the Snitch then blew her whistle.  He kicked the Nimbus forward and shouldered past the Gryffindor, pushing him aside.

“Hey!”

“Idiot,” growled Harry as he nosed his broom upward so he could get a good view of the field.  Suddenly a Bludger rocketed past him and he rolled to avoid it.  Bole rushed past him and yelled, “You alright, Potter?”  Harry nodded as began to look for the Snitch again as Bole whacked the Bludger down towards Wood.  But then the Bludger changed direction and came back towards Harry.

“WHOA!” yelled Bole, as he had to duck to avoid the Bludger taking off his head.

Harry saw it coming and turned the Nimbus downward, going into a steep dive.  He looked back over his shoulder and cursed when he saw the Bludger following him.

“Damn, damn, damn, damn.  Damn.”

Bole chased after him, yelling at the other Beater.  “Abram!  Get over here!  This ruddy Bludger’s gone mad!”  Derricks held his bat up in the air and hovered, waiting for Harry to pass him.  As Harry blew past, he whacked it hard in the direction of the Gryffindor Seeker but it just circled back to have another go at Harry.

“What the…?  What’s wrong with this thing!”

“If I knew, I’d tell ye,” yelled Harry back over his shoulder as he circled back past Derricks so he could have another shot at the Bludger.

“Gryffindor lead, eighty points to zero…”

Harry cursed and said, “Abram, David!  Ferget the sodding Bludger!  I c’n ‘andle it!”

“Are you mad, Potter?  That thing’ll kill you!” yelled Derricks.

“I hope na,” muttered Harry.  He then yelled, “Jus’ go!  If ye doan ge’ back ter the game we’re gonna lose!  I c’n ‘andle the Bludger.  Now GO!”

“Alright!” yelled Bole and the two of them shot away from him, leaving him alone.

With the crazy Bludger.

Harry weaved around a Gryffindor Chaser and began to lead the Bludger on a runaround trip around the pitch.  He could just hear Lee Jordan’s voice in his ears as the wind rocketed past.

“And Potter is making a round-about route around the pitch.  It seems one of the Bludger’s is following him…”

Harry ignored the voice and shot down the field, turning sharply as he reached the Gryffindor goals.  The Bludger shot past him, as it was heavier and couldn’t turn as quickly.  Harry spun and went back through one of the golden hoops, making Wood jump and yell after him.

“That wasn’t funny, Potter!”

“I’ was’n meant ter be!” shot Harry back as he flew on.

“Nice moves.  For a Slytherin.”

Harry looked up at the Gryffindor Seeker as he shot past.  He was angry enough to curse the older boy but then he noticed something else.  The Snitch was hovering about a foot above his head.  Which he didn’t see because he was following Harry.

Grinning ferally, Harry drove upwards, getting ready to dive.  He saw the Bludger coming after him and paused for only a moment to get his target.  Then he dove.

Straight for the Gryffindor Seeker.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The boy yelped and stared up in horror as Harry shot down at him, not bothering to move.  Harry shook his head mentally and kept his eyes on the Snitch where it hovered.  As he rocketed downward, the Gryffindor Seeker turned upside down as Harry blew past.  When he righted himself he yelled, “What the fuck was that, Potter?!”

Harry flew past him, holding up his hand.  In which the Golden Snitch was nestled.  The Seeker cursed and Harry grinned.  Then something slammed into him and sent him hurtling towards the ground.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry!  Harry!  C’mon, mate, wake up.”

Someone was shaking him and yelling in his ear.  In a very familiar manner.  Harry opened his eyes and looked up into Niamh’s wide blue ones.

“‘Lo, Ni.”

“You fall fifty feet from a broomstick from being hit by a possessed Bludger, break your arm, and all you can say is ‘Hello’?”

“Er – yeh.”

“Harry, my friend, your insane.”

Harry grinned up at Niamh, who grinned in return.

“C’mon, c’mon!  Let me through.”

Harry groaned.  “Na ‘im.  Anyt’ing but ‘im!!”

“Harry, just hold still.  I’m about to fix your arm.”

“NO!” yelled Harry and Niamh at the same time.

“It’ll just take a moment…  Very simple charm….”

“Can’t I jus’ go ter the Hospital Wing?” asked Harry.

“He should go to the Hospital Wing,” snapped Niamh, tightening her grip on Harry’s sodden Quidditch robes.  It had just started raining.  Harry could see Bole, Derricks, and the Weasley twins all teamed together to wrestle the rouge Bludger into a box.  It seemed to be putting up a terrific fight.

“Stand back,” warned Lockhart.

Niamh yelled, “DON’T YOU…”  Her voice trailed off as Lockhart waved his wand and pointed it at Harry’s arm.  A strange sensation started at Harry’s shoulder and traveled all the way down to his fingertips, feeling as though his arm was being – deflated?  He didn’t dare look down after he heard Niamh’s gasp of horror.  He did however smile when Niamh began to yell at Lockhart.  However, he didn’t have much to smile about, as he could no longer feel his arm.  It no longer even felt like an arm.

“What the – MOVE OFF, ALL OF YOU!”

Snape came charging through the crowd, eyes widening as he saw Harry.  He then turned to Lockhart, who was still being yelled at by Niamh.

“Miss O’Feir.”

Niamh stopped in mid-yell and turned towards Snape, her face turning a shade of pasty white.  “Professor!  I – I…”

“Nevermind, Miss O’Feir.  If you wouldn’t mind moving away from Mr. Potter’s head.”

Niamh moved and Snape swept Harry up into his arms, earning a few surprised looks.  He stalked through the crowd, Niamh trailing behind him.  Harry looked down at his arm as Snape carried him up to the castle.  From inside his sleeve dangled what looked like a rubber glove.  He sucked in a breath as he realized what Lockhart had done.

The idiot hadn’t mended his arm.  He had removed all the bones.

Harry slowly went over the scenario of cursing Lockhart into oblivion in his head as Snape, who was muttering under his breath, rushed him up to the castle.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

As they entered the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey took immediate notice of them.

“Severus?  Mr. Potter!  What on earth…?”

“Lockhart,” growled Snape, his grip on Harry tightening.

“WHAT!  Who let him – nevermind.  I don’t want to know.”

“Ye c’n regrow me bones, can’t ye?” asked Harry.

Madam Pomfrey smiled at him.  “Of course.  But – it will be painful.  You’ll have to stay the night.”

Harry moaned.  “Na again….”

Snape smiled inwardly.  It seemed his son had inherited his dislike of the Hospital Wing.

“Sit him over there, Severus.  And put these on him.”

Snape looked at the pajamas sitting on the bed then back to Harry, who was looking up at him.  He nearly choked as he looked into those familiar green eyes but managed to keep his composure.  Letting Harry drop to the floor, he grabbed the pajamas and handed them to the boy, drawing the curtains around the bed.  He had to pull the limp arm through the pajama sleeve.  Meanwhile, he also got a good look at the scars on his son’s body.  Wincing inwardly, he wondered where they all were from.

Madam Pomfrey and Niamh came around the curtain, the matron holding a large bottle of something called Skele-Gro.  Snape winced outwardly at the sight of the stuff.

“Oh, so you do remember this, Severus.”

Niamh and Harry looked at Snape, who narrowed his eyes at Madam Pomfrey.

“Yes, Poppy, I do remember when you used that – stuff – on me.  Now, if you will excuse me…”  With one last glance at Harry, his son, Snape stalked out of the Hospital Wing.

Harry looked after him then took the steaming beaker that Madam Pomfrey held out to him.  He downed it in one gulp and sputtered as it went down.  Madam Pomfrey walked off muttering about inept teachers and Niamh took up a perch on the end of Harry’s bed.  They talked a little about the match then Madam Pomfrey bustled Niamh off, leaving Harry alone with the pain in his arm.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“You carried Harry off the field, did you not, Severus?”

“Yes, Albus.”

“Which must have been a strange sight.”

“The cruel Potions Master carrying a student off the Quidditch pitch?  Oh, yes, it must have been rather shocking.  I’m not surprised the entire student population didn’t faint and half the staff didn’t have heart attacks.”

Dumbledore chuckled.

“They simply do not know you as well as I do.”

Snape snorted and moved one of the chess pieces.

“No one knows me as you do, Albus.”

“Not even Lily?”

There was a moment of silence then dark eyes met blue.

“Lily’s dead.”

“Not for you, Severus.  As long as Harry’s around, she’s still alive for you.”

“I know.  He has her eyes.”

“And your temperament.”

“Yes.  What a burden for the boy.”

“When do you plan to tell him the truth?”

“I don’t know, Albus.  I really don’t know.  I – I thought about not telling him.”

“That sounds rather like something your father would have done.”

“Damnit, it does, doesn’t it?  I swore I’d never be like that bastard.  And I won’t.  I’ll tell him.”

“Good, good.  I saw the boy’s broom.  From you, I presume?”

“Who else?”

Dumbledore smiled and moved a chess piece.

“Check.”

“Oh, no.  You aren’t going to win this game, Albus.”

“Albus!  Albus!”

Dumbledore looked around the board at Snape and said, “I think neither of us is going to win this game, Severus.”

Snape nodded.  “Yes.  This is the – what? – fourth game Minerva had interrupted?”

“Seventh.”

“I should hex her.”

McGonagall suddenly burst into the office, her hair escaping from the tight bun she wore it in.  From the way she was panting, she had obviously run up the moving staircase.

“Albus – Severus…”

“What is it, Minerva?” asked Dumbledore.

“Its- happened – again,” breathed McGonagall.

Snape and Dumbledore exchanged a look then Dumbledore turned back to McGonagall.

“Lead us.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry awoke later that night to the pains in his arm.  And also something sitting on his chest.

“Jar?”

No.  Not Jardin….

“Dobby!”

The house-elf jumped backwards.

“Harry Potter come back to school.  Dobby warned Harry Potter.  Why didn’t Harry Potter go home when he missed the train?”

Harry sat up abruptly, sending the house-elf sprawling.

“How did ye know I missed the train?”

Dobby wrung his hands together and Harry’s eyes narrowed.  He hissed, “I’ was you!  Ye stopped us from getting’ on the train!”

“Yes, sir.  Dobby sealed the gateway and had to iron his hands afterwards.  When Dobby heard Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts, he burned his master’s dinner.  Such a flogging Dobby got…”

Harry glared down at the house-elf and growled, “Ye nearly go’ Ron, Niamh, and me expelled.  Ye’d better ge’ out o’ ‘ere before my bones come back or I’ll strangle ye.”

“Dobby gets death threats five times a day at home, sir.”

“Dobby’s goin’ ter get abou’ five more if ‘e doan ge’ out of ‘ere.”

Dobby sniffed and blew his nose on a corner of his filthy pillowcase.  Harry sighed and asked, “Why do ye wear tha’?”

“This, sir?  It is a mark of the house-elf’s enslavement, sir.  Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes.  The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, for then he would be free to leave their house forever.”

He then looked up at Harry and cried, “Harry Potter must go home!  Dobby thought his Bludger would make him do that.”

“This is me home!”  Harry blinked.  “‘Old on.  Yer Bludger?  Ye made that Bludger try and kill me?”

“Not kill, sir!  Never kill!  Dobby only wanted Harry Potter to be sent home!”

“Hogwarts is me home, Dobby.  I doan belong anywhere else.”

Dobby bounced up and down on his feet and cried, “Harry Potter must go home!  He means so much to the lowly dregs of the magical world!  Harry Potter was a light of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end…  Now terrible things are happening at Hogwarts.  Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is about to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open…”

“So there is a Chamber!  Where is i’, Dobby?”

The house-elf shook his head frantically and smashed himself over the head with a silver plate on the bedside table.  Harry grabbed the elf’s bony shoulder and shook him.

“Who opened i’ before?  Tell me, Dobby!”

“Dobby can not, sir!  Do not ask any more!”  Dobby’s big green eyes looked up in Harry’s face as the elf said, “Harry Potter must not be here when the dark deeds planned happen.  Harry Potter must go home.”

“I’m na goin’ home!  Two of me frien’s are Muggleborn!  I can’na leave them!”

Suddenly there were footsteps outside the Hospital Wing and Dobby disappeared with a loud crack.  Harry threw himself back under the covers, eyes watching the doorway.

Dumbledore backed into the room a few seconds later, carrying one end of what appeared to be a statue.  Snape appeared carrying the other end, McGonagall trailing after them.  The two men heaved it up onto a bed then Dumbledore whispered to McGonagall, “Get Poppy.”  Harry lay quietly, his eyes just peering over the top of the blanket.  Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall appeared a few minutes later.

Madam Pomfrey whispered, “What happened?”

“Another attack.  Minerva found him on the stairs.”

“He looked like he was coming up here.  To visit Potter most likely,” said McGonagall.

Harry frowned and pushed himself up so he could see.  The ‘statue’ was Colin Creevey.  Harry gasped and Snape looked in his direction.  The professor looked at him for a moment then turned back to the still figure on the bed.  He reached out and pried Colin’s camera out from where the boy had obviously had it held up in front of him.

Pomfrey looked at Dumbledore and asked, “You don’t think he got a picture of his attacker, do you?”

Dumbledore shrugged slightly as Snape opened the back of the camera.  Harry could smell the burnt plastic from where he was.

“Melted,” said Snape.  “All of it…”

“Albus, what does this mean?”

“It means that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again,” replied Dumbledore solemnly.

Pomfrey gasped while McGonagall looked at Dumbledore in shock.  Snape simply looked down at the broken camera in his hands.

“But…who, Albus?”

“The question is not who, Minerva.  It is how…”

“Harry!”

“Ooomphf!”

Harry looked up at Niamh and said, “Good mornin’, Ni. Can I ge’ up now?”

“Oh, sorry, Harry.” Niamh scrambled up off of Harry, crouching on the floor beside him. Harry sat up slowly, holding his left arm and wincing.

“Ow.”

“Still hurts?”

“Yeh. Jus’ a little.”

“Hmm. Hey, y’know that idiot’s starting a dueling club?”

“Malfoy?”

“Not that idiot, stupid. The other idiot.”

“Oh! Lock’art.”

“Yeah. That idiot.”

“‘Im? A dueling club?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“We’re gonna die.”

“Yep. But we’ll have fun.”

Harry let himself fall back down onto the floor.

“Oh bloody ‘ell…”

Niamh laughed and pulled him up.

“C’mon, my friend. We have to go sign up.”

“Then wha’?”

“Then…update our immaculate knowledge of hexes and curses and charms. Must keep up our reputation!”

“Ni.”

“What?”

“Stop bein’ so damn cheerful.”

“Then you stop being so bloody angsty.”

“I’m na angsty!”

“Liar.”

“Pish.”

“You’re a horrid liar, y’know that?”

“I am na!”

“There you go again.”

“Shut up, Ni.”

“Hmmm…”

“I’ll curse ye.”

“Oooo, I’m scared. No! I’m terrified! Somebody save meeee!!”

Niamh collapsed on the floor in a dramatic, highly exaggerated faint and lay there. Harry leaned over her, an amused look on his face.

“Very amusin’, Ni. An excellent fall too.”

Niamh opened her eyes and grinned up at him.

“Why thank you, Mr. Potter. Will you be a gentleman and help me up?”

Harry snorted. “I’m a Slytherin, na a gentleman!”

“Oh, but you sooooo look the part. I can just imagine you in a tie… Wait, you are in a tie.”

Harry shook his head then reached down and pulled her up.

“C’mon. We’ve go’ a duelin’ club ter sign up fer.”

“So…you’re going to do it?”

“Ye think I’m gonna le’ you ‘ave all the fun of cursin’ Gryffindors senseless? I think na!”

Niamh grinned and slung her arm about her taller friends shoulders. She cheerfully cried, “There’s the Harry I know! The Lord and Lady Hex are back!”

Harry smirked, “Ye know abou’ those names?”

“Yeah, sure. I think they suit us rather well, don’t you?”

“Yeh. Sure.”

“You don’t sound very positive.”

“I am na a positive person.”

Niamh smiled and said, “Your also not a negative person.”

“Who says?”

“I do.”

“Mmm. Shows wha’ ye know.”

“Hey!”

“Ow!”

Harry rubbed his side where Niamh had punched him then proceeded to ruffle her hair into wild spikes.

“Hey, now!”

“Tha’ shows ye.”

“You braggart. It unfair when you do that.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t reach your hair! Your too bloody tall!”

Harry grinned down at her and said, “Na. Yer too short.”

“Oh, shut up, you overgrown braggart.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

A few days later…

“What the….”

“Erm…”

Harry and Niamh looked a few rows ahead of them to see Crabbe and Goyle’s potion billowing smoke. As Snape charged over to them, he swore he saw Hermione dart into Snape’s office. He nudged Niamh and nodded casually towards the door. The two of them watched it until Hermione darted back out, the front of her robes bulging.

“Oookay. Tell me I didn’t just see Hermione steal something out of Snape’s office.”

“Erm…”

Niamh sighed. “I thought that was what you were going to say.”

Harry half-smiled then watched in amusement as Snape pulled a blackened firework out of Goyle’s cauldron. He and Niamh looked at each other then over at Ron and Hermione, who were looking innocently at Snape. Rather too innocently.

Niamh smirked and whispered, “It was them.”

“Yeh,” whispered Harry back. “They’re tryin’ too hard ter look innocent.”

“We should give them some pointers.”

“Hmm.”

“Question is; what are they doing? AND WHY IN THE BLOODY HECKIT DIDN’T THEY TELL US!!”

Harry gave Niamh an amused look and gave her a gentle prod with his elbow.

“Per’aps they’re tryin’ somethin’ on their own.”

“Oh, like what? Sneaking into the kitchens?”

“Orrrr…our comm’n room.”

“Whaaaat?”

“Welllllll,” drawled Harry, “they t’ink Malfoy is the Heir o’ Slytherin.”

“Crazy, that.”

“Yeh. So, they fin’ a way inter the common room ter find out if they’re righ’.”

“Yeah. Sure. Makes since. Question, though.”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“How how HOW would they do something like that?”

Harry smirked and replied, “Polyjuice Potion. Makes ye look li’ someone else fer an hour.”

“Cool! I could turn into Malfoy and make him look like an idiot.”

“As amusin’ as tha’ would be, we need ter figure out wha’ Ron an’ ‘Ermione are doin’.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged and leaned on the table, head tilted forward so his hair fell about his face.

“Who knows?” He then grinned sideways at her from behind his hair and asked, “But doan ye wan’ ter know?”

Niamh grinned and slung her arm about his shoulders.

“Of course! How shall we find out?”

“Oh, I’m sure we c’n ge’ Jar ter follow ‘em.”

“He’ll be spotted.”

Harry smirked.

“No ‘e woan.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“And here we go. Can we have a drum roll please as we walk into our – no, excuse me- everyone else’s impertinent doom?”

Harry laughed at Niamh as the two of them, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny walked down to the Great Hall for the dueling club. They had managed to convince Ginny to join them. Or Niamh had dragged her along and Harry and Hermione had dragged Ron when he wanted not to come when he heard Ginny was coming.

Now Ron and Hermione were walking up in front of them, silent, with Harry and Niamh behind them and Ginny trailing behind. As Niamh launched into more about everyone else’s doom, Harry trailed back to walk beside Ginny. She didn’t notice him until he slung an arm about her shoulders, making her jump.

“‘Ey. Jus’ me.”

Ginny smiled and mumbled, “Hey, Harry.”

“Ye okay?”

“I-I guess so.”

“Ye doan soun’ too confident.”

Ginny shrugged.

“‘S Ron, is’n i’?”

Ginny closed her eyes and whispered, “He hates me…”

Harry’s eyes widened and he tightened his arm about her shoulders.

“No ‘e does’n! Wha’ makes ye thin’ tha’?”

“He’s avoiding me. He won’t even talk to me.”

Harry smiled and said, “‘E’s still in shock, Gin. Doan worry. ‘E’ll come ‘round.”

“I still think he hates me.”

“Well, I know ‘e doan, so stop thinkin’ tha’ way. ‘E jus’ doan know ‘ow ter handle ye bein’ in Slytherin.”

“Your in Slytherin.”

Harry blanched and looked at Ron. “Yeh. I know. But, tha’s different. Yer Ron’s sister. His little sister.”

“His only sister,” corrected Ginny darkly.

“Exactly!” cried Harry, trying to get the younger girl to brighten instead of darken. “He – I doan know. ‘E probably feels li’ e’s got ter protect ye or somethin’. I – I would’n know fer sure as I…”

Ginny smiled and softly said, “Because you’ve never had anyone to protect.”

“Yeh. ‘Cept maybe Tyls.”

“Who?”

“A friend. ‘E – ‘e and I grew up tagether on the stree’s. ‘Fore I came ‘ere, ‘e was me best friend.”

Ginny smiled again. “He was lucky to have you. And – I guess so am I. Thanks, Harry.”

Harry beamed and said, “No t’anks needed, Gin. I ‘elp wherever I c’n.”

“That’s what’s so amazing about you, Harry.”

“Wha’?”

“Well, you grew up on the streets and you told us all that you didn’t have the best life there. Yet – you do this. You help people. And you don’t ask for anything in return.”

Harry shrugged and said, “Na a very Slytherinly trait, but…its me.”

“I don’t see how you did it.”

“Now tha’ ye mention i’, neither do I.”

Ginny laughed and Harry smiled in return, happy he had gotten through to the girl he had considered a sister since her mother had taken him off the streets. He then noticed that they were nearing the Hall and disengaged his arm from her shoulder. When she looked at him questioningly, he winked and whispered, “Would’na wan’ yer brothers to trounce me, would ye?”

Ginny’s cheeks flushed and he smiled, patting her shoulder as they entered the Hall.

Niamh suddenly turned to them and hissed, “What are you two doing? C’mon! I want to get close?”

“Why?” asked Harry but never got an answer as Niamh grabbed his arm and pulled him along. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny trailed along behind them.

The five of them found themselves positioned at one of the corners of the gold stage. Ron suddenly turned to Harry and asked, “Do you know who’s…”

His voice trailed off into a groan as Lockhart tromped onto the stage in bright, canary yellow robes. But it was the dark figure following him that made Harry and Niamh look at each other in awe.

Snape himself was walking behind Lockhart, an expression of disdain on his face. Niamh stood on her tiptoes to whisper in Harry’s ear, “I’d look like that too if I knew that Lockhart…y’know…”

Harry coughed then hissed back, “Ye’d look like tha’ whether ye knew tha’ or na.”

Niamh grinned and said, “You know me too well, Harry.”

“Far too well.”

Niamh punched his shoulder for that then pushed Ron’s jaw up as he had been gaping at the two professors on the stage.

“Can everyone see me? Good, good! Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to start this little dueling club – just in case you ever need to defend yourself as I have in countless situations. And let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape (Snape’s upper lip curled here). He’s told me that he knows a bit about dueling himself and has agreed to help me with a little demonstration before we begin. But don’t worry – you’ll still have your Potions Master in one piece when we’re through!”

Niamh snorted and said, “He’ll be lucky if he’s still in one piece after this!”

“Why do you say that, Ni?” asked Ron.

Niamh grinned. “Because, Ron, my friend, Snape, our dear Potions Master, was once an Auror!”

“An Auror?” gasped Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

Harry looked up at the dark professor, trying to imagine him as an Auror. He turned back to Niamh and said, “‘E was’n in yer book.”

“Sure he was. He’s in the back under ‘Dark Wizard Hunters’. It says he was almost as good as Mad-Eye Moody!”

“Who?”

“Nevermind. Let’s just watch the show.”

Lockhart and Snape were now facing each other on the stage, holding their wands out in front of them like swords after they had bowed (which had been a simply nod from Snape). Lockhart was commentating.

“Now, we hold our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three we will both cast our spells – not aiming to kill of course.”

Niamh, Ron, and Harry and snorted at that, earning a glare from Hermione.

“One – two – three…”

The two wands swirled above their owner’s heads and Snape brought his down with a cry of, “Expelliarmus!” There was a brilliant flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was sent flying, crashing into the wall and sliding down to the floor.

Hermione let out a cry of horror while Niamh, Harry, and Ron let out cheers.

“Oh, stop it you three. He could be hurt!”

“Who cares?” said Ron as Harry and Niamh continued to cheer, earning a small smile from Snape.

Lockhart scrambled to his feet, his hair disheveled and his hat sitting on the ground beside him.

“And that was a Disarming Charm. I’ve lost my wand – thank you, Miss Brown – an excellent idea to show them that, Severus!”

Snape sneered. He had hoped to at least break the idiot’s skull open. Or his arm. Something broken would have made him very happy.

“Now!” said Lockhart, clapping his hands together. “Let’s divide you all up into pairs! Severus, if you would help me…”

Snape sneered some more but went down into the crowd, pairing students as Lockhart did. Harry watched as Lockhart moved towards them and he froze.

“Ah! Mr. Weasley, if you would pair up with Mr. Finnigan. Miss Granger…with Miss O’Feir, Miss Weasley with Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Potter…ah! with Mr. Malfoy.”

Harry turned to see Draco standing behind him, looking at Lockhart in shock. He then turned his eyes to Harry and smirked. Harry bared his teeth in a parody of a grin. Oh, this was going to be fun…

Niamh sidled up beside him and whispered, “Kill him. Please.”

Harry glared at Draco out of the corner of his eyes and growled, “‘E’ll wish I killed ‘im.”

“Get ‘em, mate!”

“Alright!” yelled Lockhart, “face your partners and bow!”

Harry and Draco barely moved their heads, their eyes locked on each other. Harry’s grip tightened on his wand as he searched for a nice hex to use…

“Wands at ready! On the count of three, cast your spell to disarm your opponent – only disarm – we don’t want any accidents. Now…one – two – three!”

Harry had already started casting at count one. He brought his wand down on ‘two’ and yelled, “Praecipito!” Draco was struck by a jet of light blue light and pitched headlong onto the stage. Winded for a moment, the other boy raised his wand and yelled, “Tarantallegra!” causing Harry’s legs to begin a jerky quickstep.

Harry cast the counter-charm and, ignoring Lockhart’s cries of “Stop!” sent another curse hurling at Draco.

“Gelo!”

Draco froze midway in casting another spell at Harry, his eyes wide. Harry took this time to look around at the other duelers. Ron was holding up Seamus, who looked like he was about to collapse. Beyond them, Niamh was removing the number of hexes she had cast on Hermione in the space of five seconds. Harry could also see Ginny helping Neville up off the stage.

Lockhart looked at all of them and said, “Perhaps I should teach you how to block unfriendly spells…how about…” His eyes fell immediately on Harry and Draco and Harry barely held back a moan.

“Potter and Malfoy!”

Draco actually did groan, rubbing his chest from where Harry had sent him sprawling on the stage. Lockhart suddenly came over to Harry and said, “Now Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this.”

He attempted to perform a strange maneuver with his wand but ended up dropping it. As he leaned over to get it, Harry resisted the strong temptation to kick his teeth in. When Lockhart straightened, wand in hand, Harry gave him a fake smile and said, “Thank ye, professor. I’m sure I c’n ‘andle it.”

“Are you sure…?”

“Yes,” snarled Harry, fixing Lockhart with a murderous stare. Lockhart backed away hurriedly and Harry turned his attention to Draco, who was smirking.

“Scared, Potter?”

“Drop de’, Malfoy.”

Draco smirked again and Harry narrowed his eyes at him. He’d teach the little rat…

“One – two – three!!”

“Serpensortia!”

A long black snake shot out of Draco’s hand, landing on the floor in-between them. Harry watched as it lifted its angular head and flicked its tongue at him. It looked rather like the snake he had talked to in the garden over the summer.

“Don’t move, Potter,” said Snape, from somewhere to his. “I’ll get rid of it…”

“Allow me!” Lockhart brandished his wand at the snake, causing a loud bang. But nothing happened but the snake flying through the air then chasing after Justin Finch-Fletchley with an angry hiss.

Harry ran forward to the edge of the stage and yelled, “Leave ‘im alone!” The snake dropped to the ground, its head arching around to look at Harry. Harry smiled then looked up at everyone else. The angry faces he found looking back at him were not what he had expected. Justin glared at him and yelled, “What exactly are you playing at, you snake!” before storming off. Harry gaped after him in confusion then yelled after him, “Well, ‘cuse me fer savin’ yer LIFE!” He then whirled and left the Hall, not spotting the strange way Snape was looking at him.

Snape watched as Niamh, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny left the hall after Harry, all of them looking worried. He himself got rid of the snake, his eyes watching the door where his son had disappeared as he silently cursed himself.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry!”

Harry rammed his wand into its holster on his belt then whirled to face whoever was behind him, his face a mask of fury. He snarled, “What?” causing Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Niamh to scramble backwards.

Ron breathed, “Why didn’t you tell up you were a Parselmouth?”

Harry’s anger faltered a little and he asked, “I’m a wha’?”

“A Parselmouth!”

“It means you can talk to snakes,” said Hermione.

Harry blinked then said, “I know. I did i’ before. There was a snake in me aunt’s garden and I started ‘avin a conversation wi’ i’. It said i’ was lonely.”

“A snake told you it was lonely,” repeated Ginny faintly.

Harry nodded at her, the rest of his anger fading away. “Yeh.”

“Harry, this is bad. Really bad.”

Harry frowned at Ron and asked, “Why? I’m sure loads o’ people can do i’.”

Niamh shook her head. “No, Harry, they can’t. I’m surprised you haven’t read about Parselmouth’s in one of your books. It’s not a common gift.”

Harry’s anger returned now as he spat, “Well, if I was’n one Justin’d be dead!”

“You told it to back off?” asked Hermione.

“Ye were there! Ye heard me!”

The four of them shook their heads. Ron said, “All we heard was you speaking Parseltongue – Snake Language. You could have been saying anything. It was creepy.”

“I – I spoke a diff’ren’ language? ‘Ow? ‘Ow can I speak a diff’ren’ language wi’out knowin’ it!”

Ron shook his head and the three girls shrugged. Harry glared at them then asked, “Well, wha’ does i’ matter if I spoke Parseltongue? Justin would’ve been killed by tha’ snake!”

“Harry,” said Niamh, “it matters because Slytherin, our House Founder, was famous for being able to talk to snakes. That’s why the symbol of our house is a snake.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as he took in what that implied.

“So – so…”

“So, everyone’s going to think you’re his great-great-great-grandson or something…” said Ron.

Hermione nodded and said, “And for all we know it could be true.”

Harry shook his head and whispered, “I’m na.”

“You’ll find that hard to prove,” said Ron.

Harry fixed him with a glare and asked, “Well, do ye think I am? Tell me, Ron. Do ye think I’m the Heir o’ Slytherin? Pray tell me if ye do.”

Ron’s blue eyes went wide and he sputtered.

“H-Harry…”

“Tell me!”

Harry’s green eyes blazed as he glared at Ron, then turned his fierce gaze onto his other three friends.

“Wha’ about ye three? Do ye think I’m the Heir?”

The three girls stared at him in awe, not answering him. Harry’s eyes narrowed to slits of green fire and he spat, “Fine then,” and walked away from them, ignoring them as they yelled after him.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Jar. JAR!

< AH! Harry! You scare me half to death.>

Very funny. Did you get all of the ingredients?

< Yeah. Why?>

Get down here.

< You’re brewing it tonight?>

Yes. Now GET DOWN HERE!!

< Okay, okay. What dungeon?>

The one where I told you to put the ingredients after you stole them.

< Should we have stolen those things, Harry?>

I’ll pay them back if you’re so worried about. Now get your feathered arse down here before I come up there and curse your beak off.

< Testy tonight, aren’t we? What happened?>

/snarl/ I don’t want to talk about it.

< But…>

I said I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!

< Okay, okay. I’m coming. Open the window, will you?>

Harry opened the small dungeon window them turned back to the bubbling cauldron. A few minutes later Jardin flew in and landed on his shoulder, nipping his ear gently. Harry smiled slightly at the raven and reached up to stroke the midnight feathers.

“Sorry I yelled at ye, Jar. I’s jus’…I’ve ‘ad a really rough day.”

< I presume you do not wish to talk about it?>

“No,” replied Harry stonily, turning back to the potion.

< Ah. Do you want me to read out the recipe?>

Harry smiled again and nodded.

< All right then. > The raven fluttered down to the table from Harry’s shoulder and peered at the book propped up again another cauldron.

< And our first ingredient is…>

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

< And stir three times clockwise and we are done.>

“Yer sure?”

Jardin turned his head to glare over his shoulder at Harry.

< Of course.>

“Okay. One – two – three… ‘Dere we go.”

< Now what?>

“Now we wait. It’s ‘sposed to turn the color o’ me parents House but…”

< But what?>

“I modified i’.”

< Yes, I guessed that. When you showed me the recipe the first time, I didn’t think I saw ‘Hallen’s Write-Everywhere Pencils’.>

Harry looked at the raven and said, “‘Opefully tha’ will cause me parents names ter appear on th’ potion.”

< Hopefully.>

“Yeh.”

< You sound awfully positive.>

“I’m na positive. I’m ‘opeful.”

< That’s my point. You’re not positive.>

Harry sent a mild glare at the raven and dryly said, “T’anks, Jar.”

< Anytime.>

Harry snorted then watched as the potion, a deep purple, swirled, its color changing. Jardin hopped up to Harry’s shoulder and peered down at the potion.

< Seems to be working.>

“We ‘ope.”

< Yes.>

The two of them watched the potion as it swirled, turning a deep scarlet. Slowly, in pure gold the words ‘Lilliane Evans’ scrawled itself across the scarlet surface. Jardin rustled his feathers and said, < Well, that’s one. > Harry silenced the raven with a scowl then looked back down at the potion as it turned from scarlet to the color of blood before darkening to a deep green that was very familiar.

“Slytherin green,” breathed Harry.

As the two of them watched, an invisible hand scrawled a name in silver across the potion. Harry let out of hiss and scrambled away from the cauldron, eyes wide. He didn’t stop until he collided with the stone wall and he sank down it to the floor, eyes unfocused. Jardin hopped to his knee and looked him in the eyes.

< Harry. Harry?>

Harry didn’t hear him. He kept seeing those words scrawled in silver across the dark green of the potion. The words kept repeating over and over in his head.

Severus Snape.

Severus Snape was his father.

Ron and Hermione were sitting at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast when Niamh ran up to them, eyes wide.

“Guys! Guys!”

The two turned to blink at her as Niamh pulled to a stop and stood panting for a moment. Hermione frowned at her and asked, “What is it, Niamh?”

“Harry. Have you seen him?”

“Not since yesterday,” said Ron, his eyes darting to a few fifth years that were glaring at Niamh.

Niamh nodded and looked at Hermione. “What about you, Mione?”

“The same. Did you ask Ginny?”

“Yeah. She hasn’t seen him either.”

“The other Slytherins?” suggested Fred, who was sitting across from Ron and Hermione.

Niamh nodded. She shook her head and said, “I even asked Malfoy and his cronies. Including Zabini, who I had to slap a few times to get him to stop goggling at me. I’ve got Mika looking for Harry in places we know he goes sometimes.”

“Mika?” said Ron, Hermione, and Fred in confusion.

Niamh nodded again.

“Mika Davids; a friend of me and Harry’s. He’s a Slyth – second year like us.”

“Oh.”

“Where do you think Harry is?” asked Ron.

Niamh shrugged and replied, “I have no idea. When I finally got Zabini to talk, he said Harry never came into the dorm last night. And what’s really creepy is that Jardin is missing too. He’s probably the only per – thing that could find Harry!”

“Have you told Professor Snape?”

Niamh shook her head at Hermione.

“Not yet. I’ll go do that now then go see if I can hunt down Mika. Maybe he’s found something.”

With that she turned and headed up to the Head Table. Ron, Hermione, and Fred watched as she walked down to Snape and said something to him. The Potion’s Masters eyes widened and he rose, walking down to Dumbledore and saying something before sweeping out of the hall, motioning Niamh to follow him.

Fred asked, “What was that about?”

Ron shrugged and Hermione said, “No clue.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“How long has Mr. Potter been missing, Miss O’Feir?”

“Yesterday. After the – er…”

“The dueling club.”

Niamh nodded.

“Yeah.”

Snape looked down at her for a moment then asked, “Are you afraid of him?”

“What?”

“Are you afraid of him, Miss O’Feir?”

“Harry? No! I’m not. He frightens me sometimes but I’m not afraid of him. I’m his friend.”

Snape nodded.

“That is good. He will need friends.”

Niamh frowned and looked up at Snape in confusion. She asked, “What do you mean, sir?”

“You are aware of the legend of the Chamber of Secrets?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you are also aware of the fact that it is said that it was built by Salazar Slytherin, who was a Parselmouth as Mr. Potter is?”

Niamh nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you see the dilemma.”

“Er – sort of. Because Harry’s a Parselmouth they’ll think he’s the one doing all this.”

“Exactly, Miss O’Feir.”

“But…I thought the Chamber of Secrets was just a legend?”

Snape sighed and turned to look down at Niamh. He looked up and down the hall then said, “Miss O’Feir, I assure you, the Chamber is very real. It has been opened once before and is now open again.” His dark eyes narrowed as he added, “And I must ask you not to tell this to anyone. Not even Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger.”

“What about Harry?”

“He, you may tell.”

“But, sir, how can the Chamber be open now if its wasn’t Harry that did it?” Niamh frowned and looked up at Snape, blue eyes wide as saucers. “Sir…you don’t think Harry opened it do you?”

Snape smiled – a very faint smile, but one nonetheless. He said, “No, Niamh, I do not. As Harry only discovered he had this ability yesterday, its unlikely he opened the Chamber.”

“But nobody else will realize that.”

“Another dilemma,” said Snape dryly.

“But Harry told us yesterday that he had talked to a snake before.”

“He most likely simply went along with it. If my memory serves me correctly, his mother’s sister would have set him to work doing something so he may have been bored and begun talking to the snake.”

Niamh blinked. “You knew Harry’s mum?”

“Yes. But – that is a topic for another time. Right now we must find Harry. Is anyone else searching?”

“Mika. I could go find Ginny and see if she’ll help. But I doubt it. She was crying last I saw her.”

Snape frowned then said, “You go find Mr. Davids. Get Weasley and Granger to help you.”

“All the Weasley’s?”

“If they will help. Today is Saturday. No one will notice them prowling about the castle.”

Niamh nodded and sprinted back down the corridor to the Great Hall. Snape watched her until she vanished around a corner. He then turned and looked down the hall. Sighing, he softly asked the thin air and empty corridor around him, “Where are you, Harry?”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“So, you and Snape are mounting a search for Harry?”

“Yes. Professor Snape is helping.”

“Why would that greasy git be helping?”

“Ron!”

“Sorry, Niamh.”

“I should hope so! Now, c’mon. We’ve got to find Harry.”

“Where do we start?”

“Anywhere, Mione. Ron, can you get your brothers to help?”

“I can get Fred and George. I don’t know about Percy.”

“Well, get them. We’ve got to find Harry.”

“What if he wants to be alone?”

Niamh glared up at Ron and growled, “And what if somebody that doesn’t like him finds him?”

“He can take care of himself.”

“What if five people that don’t like him find him?”

“Good point.”

“I’m so glad you’ve finally seen the light. Now let’s go.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Snape searched through the dungeons, throwing doors open as he went. He had gone through the lower dungeons first, even though there was very little chance a student could get down there. Now he went through the upper dungeons, the one’s where his classroom and quarters were located along with the Slytherin dormitory.

As he passed the door of one of the rooms just two doors down from his classroom, he heard a muffled sound. Turning to the door, he gently pushed it open, peeking through the crack. Seeing nothing inside he entered, cursing when he saw the torches were extinguished.

“Lumos.”

Lifting his wand high, Snape looked about the room, which was empty except for two long tables and a stool. But it apparently had been used recently as a cauldron, potions ingredients, and a book lay on one of the tables.

Walking over to the table he picked up a spoon and dipped up some of the potion, sniffing it.

“Prosapia Potion.”

There was a noise to his right and he turned, holding his wand out in front of him. He growled, “Come out or I’ll bring you out.”

There was a light shuffling sound and then a shape moved into the edge of the circle of light from Snape’s wand. The wandlight illuminated Harry’s face as he smiled coldly and said, “‘Ello, Father.”

Snape sucked in a hiss of breath and his wand hand shook slightly.

Merlin help me.

He knows.

Snape’s POV

“H-Harry?”

Harry scowled in response then snapped his head up to glare at something behind me.  Turning, I saw a pair of bright eyes wink at me from the table.  Jardin, the boy’s –my son’s– raven.  A bird such as Dumbledore’s Fawkes.

“Harry,” I said huskily.

He looked at me, eyes hard and cold.  Lips curling into a sneer he snarled at me.

What’s wrong, Father?

I stumbled backwards, surprised.  His voice had been in my head, practically dripping with barely suppressed rage.  I could see him shaking as well.  His rage, inherited from me.  Me and my wondrous temper.  But yet, Lily must have given some of her own as well.

Surprised?  Surprised by my voice in your head or by the fact that I figured it out?

I licked my lips and replied, “Both.  I would never had asked you to help me with that potion last year had I known you would try it yourself.”

Harry sneered and his voice echoed through my head in harsh tones.

Well, what did you expect me to do?  Be a good little boy and wait until you told me?  And when would that have been, Father?  When would you have told me the Truth?

“Soon.  Harry, I swear, I was going to tell you.”

WHEN?!

“When-when I thought it was best.  When I thought you could handle it!”

And I can’t handle it NOW?

“I…”

You didn’t think, Father.  But now, a question.  Who’s idea was it to leave me on the streets?

“You were left with your aunt and uncle.”

You said you knew my mother.  Did you not know her sister was capable of something like that?

“I told Albus.  I told him.”  I shook my head, shaking.  “He didn’t listen.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again, looking straight up at me.

And did you, Father, know?

“No.”

And what would you have done if you had?

“If I had known you were – mine?”

Yes.

“I would have raised you as best I could.”

I see.  Jardin.

The raven flew from his perch on the table and landed on my son’s shoulder, his pale yellow eyes bearing into mine.  That was how Harry had been talking to me.  Through the raven.  Because of his accent.  I had just noticed it.  Aloud, his street accent overruled.  Through Jardin, his voice was clear.

Another question.

I looked at him, waiting.

Were you…?

I nodded.  “Yes.  Jardin and the broom.  Both from me.”

Ah.  So, what do we do now?  Go about as though everything were normal?

“That would be best.  Until…”

Until what?

I sighed and replied, “Until we can figure out what to do about this.”

I see.

There was silence in the dungeon room until I said, “Your friends are looking for you.”

Harry smirked and said, And here I thought they were afraid of me.

I locked eyes with Harry and said, Niamh is not.

You can do it too.

As I am sure Jardin explained, the Headmaster’s phoenix is a bird such as he.

He did.

I nodded vaguely.  Harry frowned then said aloud, “I ‘spose I should go fin’ Ni.”  He turned to go, moving out of the light from my wand towards the door.  As he pulled it open I spoke.

“Harry.”

He turned, arched one dark eyebrow at me.  An eyebrow I recognized as my own.

“Come-come talk to me if you wish.  If you have an questions…anything.”

“Alrigh’.”

With that he was gone.

I whispered, “Nox,” then slumped against the table.

He knows.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry’s POV

I stormed up out of the dungeons, nearly shaking Jardin off my shoulder.  As I reached the entrance hall I turned my head to glare coldly at him.

You knew.

He ducked his head, eyes half-closed.

< I knew. >

And you never told me.

< No. >

Why?

< He-he was afraid, Harry. >

Of what?  Me?  Playing the role of a father?  He already plays one role.  Was he afraid of playing two?

Jardin sighed mentally and said, < I cannot tell you the why.  That is Severus’ business. >

Ah, so it is ‘Severus’ now, is it?

< Harry, please. >

What?  Too much sarcasm for you?  Sorry, that’s a trait of mine.

< I know.  You got it from him. >

Yeah.  Don’t I know it.

I then began to laugh.

Imagine it.  All this time – all this bloody, damn time, I’ve had a father.  Ha ha.  Now that’s funny.  That’s really really funny.

< Actually its not. >

Look at it from a different perspective and it is.

< And yet you sound rather calm. >

I sneered, I’m ALWAYS calm, Jar.

< Yes, I know.  It’s unnatural. >

I, Jar, am an unnatural creature.  I presume that my mum and Sn – FATHER– weren’t married as my last name is Potter, though it should assuredly be Snape, and as I was told that my parents were Lily and James Potter.  Shall we continue with my other strange traits?

There was no answer so I went on.

I am a pickpocket.  I just so happen to have an uncanny ability with potion making that I suppose comes from my father.  We also cannot forget my knowledge of hexes and curses and then, of course, there is the kicker.  The fact that I am a Parselmouth.

< Which I am surprised you had never read about before. >

I actually had, if you must know.  It slipped my mind.

Jardin sneered mentally and said, < At an unfortunate time. >

Yes.

I sighed heavily and continued walking down the corridor.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“DAMNIT, WHERE IS HE?!”

Niamh stormed into the Slytherin common room and found Mika and Ginny both sitting by the fire.  She stalked over to them and snarled, “Why aren’t you two out looking for Harry?”

Mika looked up and replied, “Professor Snape came in a few minutes ago.  He found Harry in the dungeons.”

“So, where’s Harry now?”

“Still in the castle somewhere.  Professor Snape let him go.”

“GRAAAAH!!”

Niamh let out an angry bellow and whirled, heading back into the corridor.  Mika called after her, “Where are you going?”

“The library!  It’s the only place I haven’t checked!”

As the wall slid closed behind her, Mika turned to Ginny and asked, “Should we go after her?”

Ginny shook her head.

“No.  I’m going to bed anyway.”

“What?  Gin, its…”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m tired.”

“Okay…  See you, Gin.”

“See you, Mika.”

Ginny disappeared into the girl’s dormitory as Mika frowned after her.  He absently thought, There’s something up with that girl…

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry slumped down at a table in the library, folding his arms and burying his face in them.  Jardin hopped from his shoulder to the table and stood there, rustling his wings angrily at anyone who tried to come close.  Harry had decided to come to the library because it was quiet, something nowhere else was.  Just as he was verging from dozing into sleep, Jardin’s voice popped into his head.

< Harry.  You should hear this. >

Harry lifted his head wearily and peered at the raven out of slitted eyes.

I was trying to sleep, y’know.

< I know, I know.  But you should hear this. >

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, stretching with a catlike grace before turning back to the raven.

What?

< Table over there behind the bookshelf. >

Which one? snapped Harry irritably.

< Behind the Transfiguration section. >

Harry rose, giving the raven a mild glare before making his way over to the Transfiguration section.  He ducked his head as he saw a group of Hufflepuffs sitting there talking.

“So, where Justin?”

“I told him to hole up in our dormitory.  If Potter’s got him down as his next victim, it’s best he keep a low profile for a while.”

“So, you think it is Potter?”

“Yeah, Hannah, I do.  He’s a Parselmouth.  Everybody knows that the mark of a Dark wizard.”

“Y’know,” said one of the other Hufflepuffs.  “That first year who was attacked – Creevey – was following Potter around taking pictures.”

“Yeah.  And I heard he had some trouble with Filch first year.  What better way to get Filch that to attack his cat?”

Harry swelled with anger at that.  How DARE they think he’d attack Norri!  He leaned closer to listen to them.

“He’s always seems so nice though.”

“He’s a Slytherin, Hannah.  You can’t trust them.  Look at Malfoy.”

Now they were comparing him with Malfoy!!  That was the last straw!  Not every Slytherin was like that bloody git Malfoy!

Harry stepped around the bookshelf, eyes glittering as he glared at the Hufflepuffs.  They were all frozen stiff, eyes wide as they stared at him.  Harry walked over to them and planted his hands on the table, causing the Hufflepuffs to cringe back.  He leaned forward until his face was inches from the one that had compared him with Malfoy.  He allowed a few moments for the color to drain out of the boy’s face before he spoke.

“Ye should make sure I’m na around ‘fore ye talk about me.”

He then leaned back and turned on his heel, walking swiftly out of the library.  Jardin flapped to his shoulder and commented, < That was smooth. >

Harry glared at him and snapped, “Shut up.  Yer na helpin’.”

< Well, if I may point out… >

“I’d rather ye not.”

Jardin fluffed up his feathers and Harry smirked at him before he suddenly found himself sprawled on the ground.  A startled squawk came from Jardin as the raven was thrown from his shoulder and Harry looked to make sure he was all right before turning to see what he had tripped over.

“Bloody ‘ell…”

Justin laid there, eyes staring stonily up at the ceiling.  And lying beside him was Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost – his head half off and his face reflecting the same look of shock as Justin’s.  Harry scrambled backwards and ran into Jardin, who let out another squawk.  The raven then saw the two Petrified victims and said quickly, < We have to get out of here, Harry. >

“But..”

< Harry!  If they find you here, you’ll be expelled! >

Harry stared at Justin and Nick for a moment longer then picked up Jardin and took off down the corridor at a dead run.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Madam Pomfrey!  Madam Pomfrey!”

“Mr. Potter?  What in Merlin’s name is going…”

Harry came to a halt in front of the mediwitch, panting.  Jardin hopped from his arms to his shoulder and nipped his ear.

“Madam Pomfrey.  It’s – ‘appened – again.”

The mediwitch’s eyes widened and she hissed, “Show me.”

Harry nodded and led her back to where he had found Justin and Nick.  As they went Jardin spat, < This is the stupidest thing you have ever done. >

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

As they reached the bodies, Harry stood nearby as Madam Pomfrey tutted over them.  He looked aimlessly about the corridor, noticing a line of spiders racing along the space where floor met wall.  They were heading away from the bodies and seemed to be doing so as fast as they could.

Jar?

< Yes? >

Is that normal spider behavior?

The raven looked.

< No. >

I didn’t think so.

Harry was shifting from foot to foot nervously when the Hufflepuffs came out of the library and caught sight of them.  The boy that Harry had snapped at yelled, “Caught in the act!”

Jardin let out an angry caw and flapped his wings as Madam Pomfrey stood and snapped, “That’s is enough, Mr. Macmillan.”  She then turned to Harry and said, “Mr. Potter, I suggest you go to the Headmaster’s office.  Mr. Macmillan, Miss Abbott, Mr. Astor, if you would help me.”  Harry watched as Madam Pomfrey sorted the Hufflepuffs into help her cart Justin and Nick up to the Hospital Wing for a moment then turned to Jardin.

Any idea where Dumbledore’s office is?

Jardin bobbed his head in a nod and gave directions.  As Harry began to walk, he laughed inwardly at what Madam Pomfrey had called him.  He wasn’t a Potter.

He was a Snape.

Harry followed Jardin’s direction to a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.  He then looked at the raven and asked, Now what?

< You have to say the password. >

Which is?

< No idea. >

Harry rolled his eyes and said sarcastically, That helps me LOADS, Jar.

< Hmm. > was the only response he got out of the raven.

“Mr. Potter?”

“AHHH!”

< AHHH! >

Both Jardin and Harry jumped then turned to see tiny Professor Flitwick standing there.  The small, white-haired wizard smiled warmly as Harry struggled to get back his breath.  He was amazed that someone had managed to sneak up on him for all his street senses.

“‘Ello, professor.”

Flitwick nodded, still smiling.  Harry had always gotten along with the warm, Charms professor who was also Head of Ravenclaw House.

“Hello, Harry.  What would you be doing outside the Headmaster’s door?”

“Madam Pomfrey sent me ‘ere.”

Flitwick arched an eyebrow and Harry added, “There’s been another attack.”

Flitwick’s eyes widened and he asked, “Who?

“Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly ‘Eadless Nick.”

“A ghost?”

Harry nodded.  That was exactly how he felt about the situation.  He often ran into the ghosts on his late night wanderings of the castle and Nick was the one he ran into most.

“Oh my…this is not good.  I should have a talk with Albus…”

“Let me do that Frederick.”

Harry and Flitwick turned to see McGonagall standing there.

< Oh dear, > said Jardin.

Shhh, warned Harry.

“Well, I don’t…”

“I have to talk with him anyway, Frederick.”

Flitwick nodded and said, “Alright, Minerva.”  He smiled at Harry and added, “I shall see you next class, Harry.”

Harry nodded and watched the little professor as he walked off.

“Potter.”

< Oh…damn. >

Harry turned to look up at McGonagall.  He had never gotten along with the Transfiguration professor and he had yet to find out why.  She seemed to have a strange dislike of him.

McGonagall watched him for a moment longer then turned to the gargoyle and barked, “Lemon drop!”

The stone gargoyle sprang aside and Harry saw a moving spiral staircase behind it.  McGonagall ushered him onto it and stepped up behind him, as if to keep him from turning and running.  As they went up, he heard the wall thud close behind him.

They rose in countless circles until Harry saw a large oak door looming up ahead.  A golden griffin’s head formed the brass knocker.

< Straight into the lion’s jaws, > muttered Jardin.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

The Headmaster’s office was a large circular room, full of snoozing portraits of the former headmaster’s and headmistresses.  A large, claw-footed desk took up part of the room.  Harry was watching one of the portraits slowly slide down out of its frame until Jardin spoke.

< Harry. >

Harry turned and saw the Sorting Hat sitting on a shelf behind the desk.  McGonagall frowned at him for a moment then curtly told him to wait.  He barely noticed it when she left.

< That’s the Sorting Hat. >

“I know.”

< The Sorting Hat.  Godric Gryffindor’s hat. >

“Uh-huh.”

Jardin gave a little shake and said, < I am amazed. >

Harry shook his head at the raven and continued to look around.

< So, you’re the young scamp that Dark Knight of Albus’ gave the silly little raven to. >

Harry blinked and turned to look at a decrepit-looking bird with half of its feathers fallen out.  As he watched another feather fell from its tail.  But the dark eyes that looked balefully at Harry were as black as Sna – his father’s and glittering darkly.  Jardin puffed up his feathers and cried indignantly, < Silly raven!  I’ll show you ‘silly raven’ you old… >

Harry concentrated and silenced Jardin.  The raven let out a surprised squawk and glared balefully at Harry.

“Ye were askin’ fer i’, Jar.”

Jardin puffed up his feathers and buried his head under a wing.  The decrepit-looking bird’s voice echoed through Harry’s head as it laughed.

< I see you have a fine hold on the young snapdragon. >

Harry chuckled at the reference to Jardin as a snapdragon then snapped to attention as the bird made gagging sound before bursting into flames.  He watched in awe as it burned until only ashes remained.  Just as Dumbledore entered the room, a tiny newborn bird poked its head up out of the ashes.

“Ah, Harry.  I see you found Fawkes.  A pity you had to see him on a Burning Day.”

Harry nodded and watched as Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk.  Just as he was about to speak, there was a bang from somewhere outside the door then the sound of footsteps charging up the staircase.  A moment later Snape burst into the office.

“Headmaster…”

Dumbledore arched an eyebrow but his blue eyes twinkled.  “Severus.”

Snape looked to his left and froze.

“Harry!”

Harry smiled partially and said, “So ‘appy ye remember me name, Father.”

Dumbledore chuckled.

“So, the truth has come out.”

Harry whirled to look at the older wizard in surprise.

“Ye knew?”

“Of course.  Severus told me and I told him to tell you.”  Dumbledore looked at Snape and continued, “I suppose you did?”

Snape shook his head and said, “He found out on his own.  Brewed the same potion I did in order to find out.”  The dark-haired wizard cast a look of pride in Harry’s direction and Harry involuntarily felt a surge of happiness.

“I see,” said Dumbledore, looking from Harry to Snape.  “Was there something you wanted, Severus?”

“Yes.  Minerva came and informed me that Harry was being charged with the attack on Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas.”

“Not in the slightest.  Though I do want to talk to Harry.”

Harry blinked and said, “Sir?”

“Only one question, Harry.  Is there anything you would care to tell me?”

Harry frowned and thought.  Was there?  He thought of that strange voice he had heard on the night of the first attack and which he had not heard since.

“No, sir.  Nothin’ a’tol.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” said Harry as he concentrated on releasing his hold on Jardin’s ‘voice’.

“You do remember what I said?  About us having a talk?”

“Yeh.”

“Here it is.  Have you been hearing ‘voices’ in the hallway?”

Harry blinked and looked up at Sna – his father.

“Why?” he asked suspiciously.

Snape shrugged slightly.  “Simple curiosity…”

“Oh.”

“HAROLD JAMES POTTER!”

Harry froze as he saw a flash of dark hair and angry blue eyes coming down the corridor.

“Oh no…”

Niamh charged forward, eyes as hard and cold as icicles.  She grabbed him by the collar of his robes and jerked him down so their faces were level.  Jardin gave a startled squawk and flew to Snape’s shoulder, who was watching the confrontation with unveiled amusement.

“Where – in – all – nine – hells – were – you??”

Harry looked calmly into Niamh’s eyes and said, “The dungeons.”

“Not when I looked.”

“Then the library.”

“Where the third attack was!”

“Yeh.”

“Harry!”

Snape smirked and stepped into the conversation.

“I assure you, Miss O’Feir, that Mr. Potter is not being blamed for that.”

Niamh looked from her friend to her Head of House three times before releasing Harry and taking a step back.

“Well, that’s good.  So, Harry, erm…”

Harry arched an eyebrow at her and said, “Wha’?”

“Are you - erm…”

“I believe,” said Snape, “that Miss O’Feir is asking if you are mad at her.”

Harry gave his father a mild glare then turned to Niamh.  He smiled and said, “I’m na mad a’ ye, Ni.”

Niamh beamed and enveloped him in a rib-crushing hug.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, Harry.”

Harry rubbed at his ribcage, wincing, and grumbled, “S’okay.”

“I should go find Ron and them; they’re still combing the castle for you!”

“Le’s go then!”

Harry and Niamh ran off, leaving Snape standing in the corridor as Jardin flew after them.  Just before they rounded a corner a voice echoed through Snape’s head.

We’ll have that talk soon, Father.

“Harry!  Harry, wake up, mate!”

Harry opened one bleary eye and looked up at Niamh, who was bouncing up and down on his bed, her black hair flying about her face in a disheveled manner.  She thrust her face in his own and cried, “C’mon!  Get up, sleepyhead!”

A voice from over to Harry’s left groaned, “Shut up, O’Feir!”

Niamh turned and snapped, “Sod off, Malfoy!”  She then turned back to Harry and shook his shoulder.

“Come on!  Harry, presents!!”

Harry groaned and sat up, ending up knocking Niamh off the bed.

“Ooomphf!”

“Sorry, Ni.”

“Nice job, Potter,” drawled Malfoy.

“Shut i’, Malfoy,” snapped Harry and climbed out of bed to help Niamh up.  He pulled her up easily and said, “Sorry, Ni.”

Niamh smiled and said, “S’okay, Harry.  C’mon.  We wouldn’t want to let Malfoy miss his beauty sleep.”

“Oh, how ingenious you are, O’Feir.”

“Such a big word, Malfoy.  Did that hurt?”

Harry chuckled and ushered Niamh out of the boy’s dormitory.  They sat down in the common room by the sparsely decorated tree and opened their presents.  Jardin flew in to join them eventually, making the two of them remember the last Christmas, when Harry had received the raven.

Niamh squealed and hugged Harry about the neck as she opened her present from him, which was a pair of Quidditch gloves.  She had talked endlessly about trying out for the Slytherin team and had finally decided to tryout next term.

“Hey, Harry, you’ve got one more.  Somebody stuffed it back here in the back.”

Harry took the present from Niamh after he had pulled the emerald green sweater he had received from Mrs. Weasley over his head.  He opened the package, wondering what on earth it could be and who it could be from.

“Whoa…”

It was a thick green cloak.  Silver thread lined the trim and outlined the small serpents that ran along the edges.  A silver clasp lay atop it, the metal worked into the shape of a coiled serpent, small blood red rubies gleaming up from the snake’s eyes.

Niamh gaped at it and ran her hands over the smooth fabric.  She breathed, “Who sent you this?”

Harry shrugged and picked up the cloak.  Underneath it, he saw a small piece of folded parchment.  Setting the cloak back down, he picked up the letter and unfolded it.

Perhaps it would be wise for you to not wear this, but I hope that despite the fact of the reputation it would bring you that you will.  Merry Christmas.

Your father

Harry quirked a smile and shook his head as Niamh asked, “What is it?”

“Nothin’, Ni.  Nothin’ a’tol.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Snape was sitting in his office later that day when he heard a soft rapping at his door.  Without looking up from the novel he was reading, he said, “Come in.”

The door opened and Harry stepped in, Jardin perched on his shoulder.  As he closed the door, Severus – still not looking up – asked, “Come to talk?”

“Yeh,” replied Harry as he sank into one of the chairs in front of Snape’s desk.  He peered at the novel for a moment then said, “Charles Dickens?”  Arching an eyebrow at his father, he continued, “I never pictured ye as one ter read Muggle novels.”

Severus smiled slightly and marked his page in the book.

“I have always like Dickens.  Particularly Oliver Twist.”

“The orphan boy who was taken in by Fagan and taught pi’pocketry by th’ Artful Dodger.”

Severus arched an eyebrow and said, “You’ve read it?”

“Yeh.  I’ was one o’ the books I taught meself ter read out of.”

“Ah.  Well, I suppose you didn’t come here to talk about novels…”

“Na.”

Severus nodded and sat the book down on his desk, leaning back in his chair and watching Harry.  The boy looked him straight in the eyes and asked, “‘Ow?  ‘Ow did i’ happen?”

“Your mother and I?”

“Yeh.”

Severus sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk.

“A particularly good question, Harry.  We were third years.  I had flown to school on my broomstick with my trunk tied to it because my father refused to let me return and Lily thought it was a very stupid thing to have done – which it was, though I did not know how so then.  Your mother and I were vague friends at this time as I’d been tutoring her in Potions since week one of first year.  She in turn had been tutoring me in Transfiguration, my most dismal class.”

“Anyway, my father came to the school during the Christmas holidays, supposedly to bring me home because my mother wanted to see me.  The true story was he wanted to take me home and beat me until the floor ran red with my blood for disobeying him.”

Severus paused and looked at Harry to see how he was taking that.  The boy stared calmly back at him so he continued.

“He never got to take me home.  Dumbledore expressly forbid him to do so (I believe to this day he threatened him).  In turn, my father decided that if he could not beat me at home, he could do just as well at Hogwarts.  He cornered me in an empty corridor and had broken my left arm and given me a number of bruises and cuts by the time help arrived.  In the form of your mother.  She, like you, was an expert at curses and hexes and taught me most of them.  And like me are yourself, she had a temper.  She hexed my father so badly he had slugs dribbling out of his ears for a month.  He nearly hit her in return but not before I brought him down with a curse and threw myself in front of Lily.  My father, beaten by two thirteen-year-old’s, left.  After that, your mother and I were best friends.  And eventually (and through all of James Potter’s sabotage) boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Harry nodded slightly then said, “Tha’ doesn’ explain…”

“Let me continue.  At the end of our seventh year, Lily and I were together for our second time.  She found out what I was that night and told me she never wanted to see me again.  A few days after our graduation I heard she was marrying Potter.  A month after that, I heard she was pregnant.  I had no thoughts at all as if you could possibly have been mine.”

“Why?”

Severus sighed and said, “Harry, have you ever heard of Death Eaters?”

“They were Voldemort’s followers.”

“Yes.”

Harry gave him a quizzical look and Severus thought, Might as well get it over with.

“Harry…I was one of them.  That was the reason why your mother told me she never wanted to see me again.  I suppose she felt betrayed for all our years of friendship, the many time she had defended me against Potter and his friends.  The Ministry was in chaos then, Aurors taking in anyone who was thought to be a Death Eater.  Voldemort himself killed some of his Death Eaters for disobedience.  I sometimes thought back then that she was actually afraid for me, rather than of me.”

Harry blinked a few times then nodded solemnly.  He said, “Ye were a Death Eater.  Alrigh’.  So tha’ explains why me mum married James.”

“Yes,” said Severus.  “She went to him.  It hurt me like hell to see her marrying him because I still loved her.”

“‘Old on.  Ni said ye were an Auror.”

“I was.  A cover for my Death Eater duties.  I had to catch some of my own to keep it up and in some ways it was not a charade, as it was to originally be.  An Auror’s life is as dangerous as that of a Death Eater’s, though a Death Eater’s possibly more so.  But…fighting against the dark was much more satisfying than fighting with it.  Although I did not truly have much choice in the matter…”

Seeing Harry’s confused look, Severus continued.

“Just after my seventeenth birthday, my father took me to Voldemort.  He was a Death Eater and he knew how much I myself loathed every bit of news of the Death Eater’s.  So, he cast me under Imperius and took me.  By the next day when he released me I was Marked.  And there was no going back from a pact made with Voldemort, even if it was not of my own will.”

“Your mother should have understood that.  She knew me well enough to know I would never have joined Voldemort on my own.  That is why I did not simply vanish from existence but took a post as an Auror.  Because I wasn’t truly with them.  When I was doing my duty as an Auror, I felt as though the Death Eater half of me was gone.”

Severus looked at Harry, who was watching him with a perfectly blank face.  Harry gave a little shake then looked at the raven on his shoulder, his eyes going opaque for a moment.  A moment later he was back.

“Sooo…”

Severus waited, watching his son for his reaction.

“Why wou’ yer father do tha’?”

“He was a hard man, Harry.  He loathed me, hated me; despised me even.  He did all he could to get rid of me, even going as far as to leave me at an orphanage in Knockturn Alley when I was two.  None too happily, he took me back after I received my Hogwarts letter.  Most of that was my mother, who by the time I got to know her, was already half dead.  My father, if I could call the man that, had beaten her constantly, taking out his rage on her.  She barely even recognized me when I came home for the summer.  The last one was the one before my third year.  Dumbledore refused to let me return after that and my mother died in the second term of that school year.  I never even knew until Lily told me.  My father had neglected to tell me of her death.”

“Tha’s ‘orrible.  Wha’ ‘appened ter ‘im?”

“I, in my Auror duties, took him in.  He went to Azkaban for eight accounts of Muggle-torture and use of the Unforgivables.  The last time I saw him was when he was dragged, raging, from the courtroom, screaming at me for being a traitor.  No one guessed that he was calling me a traitor to Voldemort and not a traitor as his son.  And he, being locked in Azkaban, could not tell any of our fellows that I was a turncoat.  Though, I never truly was with them at all so I wonder why he ever even considered me one of them.”

Harry nodded vaguely and looked at Jardin again, his eyes growing dull once more.  He then turned back to Severus and asked, “Wha’ – wha’ abou’ the nigh’ Mum died?”

Severus sighed.  He knew this would come up.  Taking a deep breath, he launched into another monologue.

“I-I was there that night.  Voldemort had finally found out where the three of you were.  I still haven’t the slightest idea as to why he wanted Potter dead.  It wasn’t simply the fact that he was an Auror and had picked off almost as many as Mad-Eye Moody, I know that much.  But, I was there.  All of the Death Eaters were there outside the Potter Manor in Godric’s Hollow.  I watched helplessly through a window as Voldemort killed Potter – something I wished I could have stopped despite the fact that he and his comrades in arms made my school years miserable – and moved upstairs to supposedly kill you.  I heard the entire screaming fight between him and your mother through an open window in your room.”

Severus paused for a moment then continued, reliving that night in his mind’s eye.

“I nearly killed myself when I heard the words of the Killing Curse and saw your mother fall.  But then that amazing bout of magic you are so famous for happened and Voldemort was gone.  The Death Eater’s dispersed in confusion as pain lanced through us from our Mark’s.  I ignored my own pain and entered the house.  A fire had been begun by another Death Eater and was slowly spreading.  I got you out then went back in for Lily and Potter’s bodies.  By the time I had returned, you were gone.  I left that place before I killed myself from the sheer sorrow I felt looking at your mother’s body.”

Harry looked across the desk at his father and softly said, “Nobody’s ever tol’ me the whole story about wha’ ‘appened.”

Severus forced a smile, which must have looked like a grimace, and said, “I don’t believe anyone knows the entire story, Harry.  Albus might but he holds his secrets like a man drowning and will not let them go.”

Harry chuckled slightly then sent a mild scowl at Jardin.  He snapped, “Yeh, I know we ‘ave ter meet Ni.  I ‘aven’t fergotten.”

Severus smiled and said, “The two of you seem to get along quite nicely.”

“Yeh.  When e’s na botherin’ the ‘eck out o’ me.”

< I highly resent that remark, > said Jardin, puffing up his feathers slightly.

“Well, i’s true, Jar.”

< It is not! >

“Jus’ keep tellin’ yerself tha’ an’ i’ might come true,” said Harry with a smirk.

Jardin gave a < Hmph! > and began to preen the feathers on his right wing.  Severus laughed at the two of them (Jardin had been speaking so Severus could hear) and said, “I think you two make a perfect couple.

< “Hmph,” > said both Harry and Jardin, making Severus laugh all the more.

Harry smiled slightly as he watched his father laugh, which seemed to make the man much younger.  Perhaps that was how he had been when he and Lily had been friends.  Harry simply smiled some more and joined in the laughter.

Two months later…

Harry and Niamh walked up from Arx Serpens in fairly good spirits, laughing over a signing card Pansy Parkinson had given Draco that morning for Valentine’s Day.

“I have no idea Pansy was so – so…”

“Lyrical?”

“Yeah!  She’s a poet and she didn’t know it.”

Harry laughed then froze as they turned into the Great Hall.  Beside him Niamh blanched and moaned, “Tell me I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing!”

Harry wrinkled his nose and grumbled, “Only if ye tell me tha’.”

“I was afraid you’d say something like that – ”

It looked like someone had let loose a three-year-old in the Hall with pastel paint and a paintbrush.  The normally gray walls were a bright, lurid pink and were covered in flowers of various sizes and bright colors.  The tables were also decorated in flowers and balloons of hot pink, matching the streamers that hung from the ceiling.  And standing in the middle of it all was a beaming Lockhart in lurid pink robes matching the walls.

Niamh scowled and muttered darkly, “I should have known.”

“What the hell?”

Niamh and Harry turned to see Mika standing behind them, gaping in horror at the pastel decorations.

“Lockhart,” growled the white-haired boy.  Harry and Niamh nodded and Mika blanched.

Niamh sighed heavily and said, “C’mon.  I really want to eat breakfast but first – we must kill those flowers and balloons.  And we must do it now.”

“Definitely,” agreed Harry and Mika.

The three of them marched over to the Slytherin table, drawing their wands as they went.  Only two other people were sitting at the table and they were both looking at Lockhart in a sappy sort of way.  Niamh rolled her eyes and growled, “Bints,” before severing the tie on two of the balloons with her wand.  Harry and Mika followed her lead and soon the Slytherin table was free of balloons.  As they sat down, Niamh pointed her wand at some of the flowers and hissed, “Incendio!”  She watched gleefully as they burned, laughing manically.

Mika gave her an incredulous look then leaned over to Harry and whispered, “I she…?”

“Insane?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Yeh.”

“She obviously does not like flowers.”

“Na pink one’s anyway,” said Harry.  “An’ I agree wi’ her on tha’.” He burned a flower of fluorescent orange to ash while Mika nodded in agreement.  Harry then looked up at the Head Table towards his father, who was sending an icy look of contempt at Lockhart.  If looks could kill, Lockhart would have died at least a thousand times in different horrible deaths each time.  Harry then noticed that empty chairs sitting to Snape’s right and remembered the purse he had snitched off Lockhart.  He winced and turned back to Niamh and Mika, the former of which was burning more of the pastel flowers with a sadistic grin on her face while the latter watched her with a wary look.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!  Thank you to everyone who have sent me cards!”  Lockhart beamed at everyone in the room and continued, “I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for all of you.  But – it doesn’t end here!”

“Oh, still my beating heart,” grumbled Niamh.

Suddenly two lines of short, surly-looking dwarfs with golden wings tied to their backs and harps in their pudgy hands, came marching into the Great Hall.  Mika’s jaw dropped and he gasped, “I can’t believe this.  He got a troupe of performing midgets.”

Niamh let out a snort of laughter at that and was quickly silenced by Harry.

“My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” declared Lockhart with a wide grin and much waving of his arms.

Niamh snorted again and muttered, “Friend my – ”

Harry and Mika clamped their hands over her mouth and earned a Death Glare.

“They shall be roving about the school delivering your valentine’s!  And I’m sure my colleagues will want to join in on the fun!  Why not ask Professor Snape for a Love Potion?  Or – how about asking Professor Flitwick to teach you and Entrancing Enchantment?”

Mika, Harry, and Niamh watched as tiny Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands and Snape cast an icy glower about the room, as if daring anyone to ask him for a Love Potions.  Harry chuckled and wondered what little tortures could possibly be going on in his father’s head for Lockhart.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Look – a wandering dwarf.”

“You mean a wandering midget.”

“Same thing, Mika.”

“No, its not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, its not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No…”

“Will both o’ yet shut up?  Ye can call ‘em either thing.”

“Speaking of the wandering midget, it’s coming our way.”

Niamh, Mika, and Harry paused on the stairs, watching as the dwarf made its way through the crowd.

“‘Arry Potter!”

Niamh blinked.  “Harry, the dwarf (she glared at Mika here) seems to be carrying something for you.”

“Oh, bloody ‘ell…”

Harry turned and hurtled up the stairs, followed closely by Niamh and Mika.  Ron and Hermione suddenly appeared out of seemingly nowhere and Ron asked, “What’s going on?”

“There’s a singing midget (here he glared at Niamh) after Harry,” replied Mika.

“I’ve got a musical message to deliver to ‘Arry Potter in person!” yelled the dwarf in a loud voice.  Harry groaned and decided to take whatever was coming.  He stepped down a few steps and said loudly, “I’m Harry Potter.”

The dwarf shoved its way up the stairs and growled, “Here is your singing valentine:

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackhoard.

I wish he were mine, he’s really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.”

The dwarf then turned and marched off, leaving them alone in the corridor with the snickering that followed Harry’s singing valentine.  Harry simply shrugged, shouldered his bag, and turned to walk down to DADA.  As he did, he swore he spotted a blushing Ginny hunkering down behind two of her dormmates.  He smiled at them as he walked past.

Absently he wondered what everyone would think of him if they knew his father was actually the most hated teacher in the school.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“So, Potter.  I heard you got a singing valentine this morning.  From one of your many admirers.”

Harry looked up at Draco from the potions books he had snitched from his father’s immense collection in his office and drawled, “Well, a’ leas’ mine was written by a true poet.”

Across the common room Pansy flushed and turned away as Draco turned red.

“You had better watch yourself, Potter.  Not even a snake could save you from the tortures I could plan for you.”

Harry laughed harshly and spat, “I doan need the help o’ a snake ter ge’ away from ye, Malfoy.  After all, I am a snake meself.”  He made a hissing sound through his teeth and narrowed his eyes imperiously at Draco.  The blond backed away quickly and walked over to sit with Pansy by the fire.  Mika come over a moment later and flopped down in the chair across from Harry.  He asked, “What did you do to Malfoy?  I haven’t seen him that scared since he woke up and found his broomstick gone.”

Harry chuckled at the memory of an earlier prank of theirs and repeated his conversation with Draco, which set Mika into gales of laughter.

“You hissed at him?  Oh, bravo, Harry, bravo.”

Harry bowed mockingly and said, “Thank ye, thank ye,” which set the two of them to laughing all the more.

“Oi, you cackling hyenas.  Look at what I found.”

Harry and Mika looked up at Niamh, who was holding a small black book out to them.  The covers were drenched and were spattering water all over the rug-covered floor.

Niamh flopped down in another chairs and tossed the book on a small table that sat inbetween them.

“I found that in the girl’s toilet on the second floor.  Somebody tried to flush it.”

Mika frowned and asked, “Why would someone want to flush a book?”

Niamh shrugged.  “Who knows?  Strange thing is, the covers are drenched but the pages are perfectly dry.  And – not to mention it – completely blank.”

“Strange,” commented Harry as he peered at the book.  He was getting a very weird feeling from it.

Easter holidays came, and with it, their choices for their classes as third years.  Hermione kept up an ongoing run of how it would affect their future in the wizarding world.

“I just want to ditch Potions,” grumbled Ron.

“You can’t,” said Niamh. “Or I’d ditch Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“But that’s very important!” cried Hermione.

“Not the way Lockhart teaches it,” deadpanned Harry, Ron, and Niamh.

In the end, Hermione signed up for everything while Ron, Harry, and Niamh all put down the same things.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry!  Harry, Harry, Harry!”

“Wha’?”

Harry sat up groggily in his bed and peered at Niamh, who still had no shame about bounding into the boys dormitory at all hours.

“C’mere!  You have to see this!”

“See wha’?” moaned Harry, trying to burrow back under the covers.

“Just come on!”  Niamh grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of bed, not noticing that Harry was wearing nothing but a pair of black pants.

Harry stumbled after Niamh into the common room and collapsed onto the couch in their customary corner.  Niamh flopped down beside him and plunked a quill, an ink well, and the black book on the table.

“Harry, c’mon, sit up.”

Harry groaned and pulled himself up, brushed his now once again waist-length hair out of his face.

“Wha’?”

“Look.”

Niamh flipped open the book and picked up the quill, dipping it in the ink well.  She then wrote on the first page, “Hello, My name is Niamh O’Feir.”

The ink was absorbed into the paper and then more words appeared.  Words that Niamh had not written.

“Hello, Niamh O’Feir.  My name is Tom Riddle.  How did you come about my diary?”

Harry blinked and breathed, “‘Ow?”

Niamh shrugged and replied, “Some kind of enchantment I think.  Nothing I’ve ever seen before thought.  I accidentally spilled ink on it yesterday and meant to see what is was about, as the pages seemed to absorb it.  I just now remembered it and thought you would want to know.  Its like the diary has a mind of its own.”

“So, we c’n talk ter i’.”

“Yeah.”

Harry frowned at the open diary and said, “I doan know, Ni.  I get a bad feelin’ off tha’ book.”

“Oh, c’mon, Harry.  Where’s yours sense of adventure?”

“Back in me bed, which i’ where I shou’ be.”

“Harr-eeeeeey!”

“Oh, alrigh’.  But doan tell i’ anything.  I doan trust i’.”

“You don’t trust a diary?”

“A talkin’ diary.”

“But a diary nonetheless.”

Harry waved a hand irritably and muttered, “Yeh, yeh…  Go on wi’ ye.”

Niamh turned back to the diary, dipping her quill down into the inkwell.

“Some tried to flush it down a toilet.”

The words sank down in to the page and then more appeared.

“I see it was a good thing that I recorded my memories in a more lasting way than ink.”

Harry and Niamh looked at each other then turned back to the diary.  Niamh quickly wrote another sentence.

“What do you mean?”

“This diary holds memory of horrible things.  Things that some would not want uncovered.  Things that occurred at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“That’s where we are now.  We’re at Hogwarts and two students have been Petrified, along with the caretaker’s cat and one of the ghosts.”

“We?”

Niamh winced and looked at Harry, who was looking at her in a manner not unlike Professor Snape’s cold demeanor.  She blanched and muttered, “Sorry, Harry.”

“Already been done.  We can’na go back now.”  Harry took the quill out of her hand and reached over to write in the diary in his untidy scrawl.

“My name is Harry Potter.”

These words sank into the page and more appeared in their place.

“Hello, Harry Potter.  Is there anything you would like to know?”

Harry looked at Niamh then dipped the quill in the ink well before turned back to the diary.

“Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?”

“Yes, I know of the Chamber.  The told us it was a legend, that it didn’t exist.  But they were wrong.  (“Damn straight,” muttered Niamh)  ‘Not all legends are as such’ as they say in the Muggle world.  The Chamber was opened in my fifth year and the monster attacked several students, finally kill one.  I caught the person who had opened the Chamber and he was expelled.  But Professor Dippet, the Headmaster, did not want the truth to be known.  He gave out the story that the girl died in a freak accident.  I was given a nice, shiny plaque and told to keep my mouth shut.  But I know – I knew it would happen again.  The monster still lived and the one who could awaken it was not imprisoned.”

Niamh suddenly grabbed the quill from Harry and scribbled, “Can you tell us who it was?”

“I can show you if you like.”

“We do.”

“Niamh!” hissed Harry as the pages of the diary began to blow as though in a strong gale.  They finally stopped at June.  Niamh gasped and pointed at the little square for June thirteenth, which had turned into what appeared to be a miniscule television.  Harry – on some strange whim – picked up the book and put his eyes up to the small box.  A second later he was sucked into it, leaving the Slytherin common room behind.

He landed on hit butt n a familiar, circular room.  Standing, he recognized it as Dumbledore’s office, just missing Fawkes and the silver contraptions.  Suddenly Niamh tumbled onto the floor behind him.  Harry turned to help her up off the floor and steadied her as she swayed woozily.

“What in Slytherin’s name was that?”

Harry shrugged and turned his head to see a wizened old man with wisps of white hair sitting at Dumbledore’s desk.  He said, “Wherever we are, i’ ain’t home.”

Niamh lifted her head from where it was laid against Harry’s bare shoulders and peered at the old man.  She then noticed that Harry was bare-chested and footed.

“Harry, why don’t you have a shirt on?”

“Did na’ sleep in one.  I was wondrin’ when ye’d notice tha’.”

“Well you could have told ma,” sniffed Niamh.  “Aren’t you cold?”

“Na.  We ‘ave bigger things ter worry about than me bein’ cold.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, “said Harry, “where we are.”

“Good point.  I don’t think he can hear us.”  She nodded towards the man, who had gotten up and was standing by the window.  The two of them watched as he went back over to the desk and sat down, twiddling his thumbs.

They both jumped when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” said the old man in a feeble voice.

A boy of about sixteen entered the office, a silver prefects badge glinting on his chest..  He took of his hat, revealing hair as jet-black as Harry and Niamh’s.  He was a good bit taller than Harry, although Harry himself was not that short.

“You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?” said the boy.

“Ah, Riddle.  Sit down, dear boy,” said Dippet.  Niamh gasped as Riddle moved to a chair and sat down.

“Harry, that’s…”

“I know, Ni.”

The two of them watched as Dippet opened his mouth to speak.

“I have just been reading over the letter you sent me.”

“Oh, really,” said Riddle in a rather squeaky voice.

“Yes,” said Dippet.  “But I am afraid I cannot allow you to stay at school over the summer.  Surely you wish to go home?”

“Not back to that – that…”

“You live in a Muggle orphanage over the holidays, do you not?”

“Yes, sir.”  Riddle flinched here and Harry knew how he felt.

“You are Muggle-born?”

“Half-blood, sir.  Muggle father, witch mother.”

“And both your parents…?”

“My mother lived long enough to name me – Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather.”

Dippet nodded, looking sympathetic.

“Well, Tom, arrangements might have been made for you but in the current circumstances…”

“The attacks, sir?” asked Riddle.  Niamh clung to Harry suddenly, staring wide-eyed at Riddle and Dippet.  Harry could feel her nails biting into the skin of his bare arms but he didn’t say anything.

“Precisely.  You must see, Tom, that I could not allow you to stay here when this term ends.  Especially after what happened to that poor girl…  You will be far safer at your orphanage.  The Ministry of Magic is even considering closing the school as he have not found the source of all this unpleasantness.”

“Sir,” said Riddle.  “What if – what if this person was caught?  What if this all stopped?”

Dippet’s eyes widened and he leaned forward in his chair.

“What do you mean?  Are you saying you know something about these attacks?”

“No, sir,” said Riddle quickly.  A little too quickly.

Dippet frowned and leaned back in his chair.

“I see.  You may go, Tom…”

Riddle nodded and left the room.  Harry and Niamh trailed after him, moving down the spiral staircase and emerging next to the gargoyle in the corridor.  Riddle paused here, chewing on his lip, his forehead furrowed in thought.

Then he set off again and Harry and Niamh followed.  It was only when they reached the entrance hall that they caught another sign of life.  A tall wizard with sweeping auburn hair and a beard called out to Riddle from the staircase.

“What are you doing out this late, Tom?”

Harry and Niamh’s jaws dropped.  They were looking at a fifty-year-younger Dumbledore.

Riddle replied, “I had to see the headmaster, sir.”

“Well, hurry off to bed.  Best not to roam these corridors.”  He bade Riddle good night and strode off. Riddle stood in the entrance hall until Dumbledore was out of sight before setting off on a path Harry and Niamh knew well.

They were heading down into the dungeons.

Riddle leg them straight to the very dungeons where Snape taught and Harry half expected to open the door and see his father’s classroom.  But the torches had not been lit so they couldn’t see a thing.  Especially not after Riddle closed the door behind him.  Harry and Niamh watched him as he stood stock-still by the door, peering out into the passageway.

After what seemed hours, they heard movement out in the hallway.  As they moved past what Harry and Niamh knew as the Potions classroom, Riddle slipped past the door and followed quietly.  They followed the footsteps down the hallway until Riddle paused, obviously listening to something.  Harry and Niamh coked their head and listened as well.

“C’mon…  gotta get yeh otta here…  C’mon now…  in the box…”

Niamh and Harry looked at each other.  There was something oddly familiar about that voice…

Riddle leapt around the corner and the two of them followed.  They could just make out the dark outline of a huge boy crouching by an open door, a large box next to it.

“Evening, Rubeus,” said Riddle casually.

The boy whirled, slamming the door shut as he stood.

“What yer doin’ down here, Tom?”

“It’s all over.  I’m going to turn you in, Rubeus.  They’re talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don’t stop.”

“What d’yeh…”

“I don’t think you really meant to kill anyone.  But monsters don’t make good pets.  I supped you just let it out for exercise and…”

“It never killed no one!”

“Come on, Rubeus.  The dead girl’s parents will be here tomorrow.  The least Hogwarts can do it make sure that the thing that kill their daughter is slaughtered…”

“It wasn’t him!  He wouldn’!  He never!”

“Harry,” whispered Niamh, tugging on his arm.  Harry hushed her, keeping his eyes locked on the dark figures of Riddle and Rubeus.

“Stand aside!”  Riddle drew his wand, filling the corridor with a sudden light.  The door behind the boy Rubeus flew open and out came a creature that made both Harry and Niamh scream in horror.  It was huge; a vast, low-slung, hairy body with long legs, gleaming black eyes of vast number, and razor-sharp pincers.

Riddle raised his wand but the creature bowled him over, tearing up the corridor.  Niamh yelled something in surprise but her voice was drowned out as Rubeus leapt on Riddle when the vastly smaller boy lifted his wand again.

“NOOO!”

Suddenly, the scene swirled and blackness took them.  They fall and quite suddenly Harry found himself sprawled on his stomach on the floor of the common room, Niamh lying across his back.  Riddle’s diary landed inches from Harry’s nose with a thump.  Niamh rolled off of him and the two of them sat on the floor for a few moments, staring at the diary.  Their eyes then met and Niamh spoke in a slightly teary voice.”

“Hagrid.  Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago.”

“Hagrid?  Niamh, are you sure?”

Niamh nodded and said, “Yes, Hermione.  I’m sure.”

Hermione, Niamh, Harry, and Ron were gathered under an ancient oak tree by the lake.  It was a Saturday and most of the students were out on the grounds – avoiding the small group under the oak.

Harry and Niamh had related their trip into the diary to Ron and Hermione and Niamh had told them her theory on who she thought had opened the Chamber the fire time.  Harry himself was still distrustful of the information they had gotten from the diary.  He had gotten a splitting headache the moment they had come out of it, but hadn’t told Niamh about it.

“Why Hagrid, Ni?” asked Ron.  “Why not this Riddle person?”

“Riddle tried to stop the monster.”

“What was it anyway?”

Niamh looked at Hermione then replied, “I think it was an acromantula.”

“A wha’?”

“An acromantula.  A giant spider.”

Ron paled suddenly, earning a weird look from Hermione and Niamh.

“Ron?  What’s wrong?”

“G-giant sp-sp-spider?”

“Yeah, Professor Quirrell.  Why?”

“Oooooh oh…”

Niamh turned to Harry and asked, “What’s up with him?”

Harry sighed and said, “‘E’s afraid o’ spiders.  Fred apparently turned ‘is teddy bear inter one after Ron broke ‘is toy broomstick.”

“That’s horrid.  And frightfully ingenious.  I have to get Fred to teach me that one.  I can use it on Malfoy.”

Harry rolled his eyes at Niamh then reached out and shook Ron by the shoulder.

“Ron.  Ron, mate, snap out o’ i’.”

Ron jumped then smiled at Harry.  “Thanks.”

“No pro’lem.  Anyway, I’m off.”

“Off where?” asked Hermione as Harry rose to his feet.

“Ah, ‘ere an’ there.  I’ll be about.”

Hermione frowned and watched Harry as he walked off towards the castle.  Niamh then turned towards the other girl and snapped, “Okay, spill.”

“Spill what?”

“I saw you slide into Snape’s office last term.  What are you two making and why in all nine hells haven’t you told me and Harry about it?”

Hermione blinked like an owl for a few moments then mumbled, “Nothing.”

“‘Nothing’ she says.  Nothing my ruddy arse.  Ron, lad, what are you two making?”

Ron jerked as Niamh addressed him and looked up at her in surprise.  “Erm…”

“C’mon, Ronnikins.  Don’t keep me in the dark.”

Ron looked beyond Niamh at Hermione and shook his head.  Niamh threw up her hands and let loose a snarl.”

“Arrrrgh!  You Gryff’s are stalwart chaps, aren’t you?  Alright, don’t tell me.  But if it has anything to with using Polyjuice Potions to get into the Slytherin common room, I suggest you just ask me and Harry for help.  Its so much easier.”

Hermione and Ron flushed as Niamh got up and headed for the castle.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Snape looked up from grading tests when there was a knock at the door of his office.  He closed his eyes for a moment then smiled.

“Enter.”

Harry entered the office, his long hair tied back in a ponytail.  Snape opened his eyes and said, “Good morning.  To what so I owe this pleasure?”

Harry sat down in a chair across from his father and said, “Someone broke inter me dorm.”

“What?”

“Tore i’ apart.  They took the diary.”

Snape blinked.  “What diary?”

“Tom Riddle’s.  I think ‘e enchanted I’ when ‘e was ‘ere.  I’ can write back ter ye an’ show ye Riddle’s mem’ries.”

Snape frowned and ran his fingers over his jaw in thought.  He vaguely remembered Lucius telling him about discovering a diary somewhat like that a few years ago.  Only he had said it was Voldemort’s when he was in school…

Damnit, thought Snape.  He turned back to Harry and said, “Harry, you have to find whoever took that diary.  It could be hazardous if you don’t.”

“Alrigh’.  I’ll do wha’ I can.”

Snape nodded and flicked his eyes back to the test lying on top of the slowly diminishing stack.  He made a mark on it, then set it aside, looking up at Harry again.  His son had an amused looked on his face, green eyes twinkling.

“Yes?”

“Jus’ thinkin’ about ‘ow Neville will look t’morrow when ‘e gets ‘is paper back.”

Snape smirked, “Yes, he’ll be very surprised won’t he?”

Harry chuckled and nodded.

“‘E will.  ‘E will indeed.”

Snape smiled then said, “Well, go on with you.  We’ll talk later.  Right now I have a meeting with the rest of these papers.”

“Alright’.  Doan change Neville’s after I leave.”

“Now why would I do that?” asked Snape innocently, earning a glare from his son that was so much like his own he was surprise no one else had figured out Harry’s true parentage.

“Alright, alright.  I won’t change it.”

“Good.  I’ll seer yer later, Da.”

“Goodbye, Harry.”

Harry nodded, smiling, then left.  Snape looked at the closed door for a long moment before he sighed and turned back to the papers on his desk.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry left his father’s office and walked through the Potions classroom back into the empty corridor.  He headed down to the hidden doorway into the Slytherin common room, wondering who could have been the one who had snitched the diary.

“Basilisk.”

The wall slid open and Harry stepped into the common room, never noticing a pair of bright blue eyes watching him from around the corner.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Niamh took a deep breath and slumped against the cold stone of the wall.

By Slytherin…

Harry is Snape’s son.

Harry was sitting in a wing-backed chair reading Niamh’s Auros of the Centuries when Crabbe and Pansy entered Arx Serpens together.  He glanced at them, wondering what Draco’s lackey and supposed girlfriend were doing together.  As they walked slowly into the room, looking about with wide-eyes, Harry realized what was going on.  He chuckled and ducked down behind his book, only looking up when Draco told Pansy to go away so her, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle could talk.  Pansy looked rather disgruntled but complied, turning away with a humph.  Harry watched her storm over to sit down by the fireplace then turned his eyes back to Draco and his gang.  He couldn’t hear any of the conversation from across the common room but he could guess well enough what was going on.  Turning back to his book, he waited.

A good many pages later he looked up and saw Crabbe’s hair slowly tingeing red.  He turned his eyes towards Pansy at the fireplace and saw bushy brown hair emerging from the straight blond.  Their eyes locked and ‘Pansy’ leapt to her feet with a shriek.

Everyone turned to stare at her, including Draco and his cronies.  Pansy clapped her hands to her head, staring straight at Crabbe as she shrieked again then fled from the common room.  Crabbe followed her a moment later, grunting something to Draco.  Harry chuckled softly to himself as he heard a loud thump through the stone wall of Arx Serpens then turned back to Niamh’s book.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

One week later…

Harry paced back and forth along a hairline crack in the floor of the Slytherin changing room.  He was worried.  For the entire week he had seen neither hide, nor hair of Niamh and he was wondering what on earth was wrong with his friend.

“Potter!”

Harry looked up at the trollish Marcus Flint and mumbled, “Wha’?”

“Game time,” said Marcus simply and strode out.  Harry grabbed his Nimbus 2001 and followed, his thoughts still focused on Niamh.

When he got into the air, he took the short time it would take the Hufflepuffs to get on the field to fly over to where he saw Ron.  Sitting alone.

Brow furrowed, Harry flew down to hover above his friend’s head.

“Where’s  ‘Ermione?”

Ron looked up and mouthed, “Library.”

Typical, thought Harry.

“Have ye seen Ni?”

Ron shook his head and Harry frowned even more.  Now he was really worried.

“Potter!”

Harry gave Ron a curt nod and flew up to his position.  Just as he got there, McGonagall ran onto the field carrying a large purple megaphone.  This did not look like something good…

“This match has been canceled.”

“What!”

Flint and the Hufflepuff captain flew down to McGonagall, the two of them opening their mouths to protest.

“Professor, we’ve got to play!”

“The cup, professor!  Slytherin…”

McGonagall ignored their pleas.

“All students will make their way back to their common room, where their Heads of House will give them further instructions.  Please do this as quickly as you can!”

She then lowered the megaphone and looked up at Harry, beckoning him down.  Harry felt a limp form in his stomach.  Something didn’t feel right…

“Come with me, Potter.  You too, Weasley.”

Harry turned to see Ron standing behind him, looking at him quizzically.  He shrugged and set off after McGonagall.  They snaked through the muttering crowed heading back up to the castle from the pitch.

McGonagall led them inside and up the staircase to the Hospital Wing.  Harry and Ron glanced at each other and the lump in Harry’s stomach tightened.

McGonagall spoke as they got close to the infirmary corridor.

“This may be a bit of a shock.  There’ been another attack…  a triple attack.”

McGonagall pushed open the doors and the three of them entered.  Madam Pomfrey was bent over a fifth-year girl that Harry recognized as one of Niamh’s Ravenclaw friends.  Her last name was Clearwater, if he remembered rightly what Niamh had told him.

Ron suddenly gasped, “Hermione!” and Harry turned his attention to the bed beyond the Ravenclaw girl.  He then looked at the occupied bed behind that –

“Ni.”

Harry’s insides twisted as he stared at the girl who had become such a good friend to him, his only companion in the Slytherin dorms besides Ginny.  He barely heard McGonagall ask a question and automatically shook his head when she held up a small mirror.  But his eyes never left Niamh’s still form.

“I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower, Weasley.  Potter, Professor Snape will be coming to escort you to the Slytherin dungeons.”

Harry only nodded numbly in response.  He didn’t notice when they left, nor did he notice the entrance of someone else into the infirmary until a hand fell onto his shoulder.

Harry turned and looked up into Dumbledore’s weathered face.  The bright blue eyes did not hold their customary twinkle.

“Come with me, Harry.”

Harry nodded and let Dumbledore lead him away from Niamh and Hermione’s still forms.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Dumbledore led him down into the dungeons, to a place along the wall that was a good twenty feet down from the door into the Potions classroom.  He laid a withered hand on the wall and spoke a phrase in a strange, rolling tongue.  Harry found – even in his delirium – that he could understand the words.

“Open in the name of Albus Dumbledore, son of Cairden Dumbledore and Vrai Ishaekes-Dumbledore.”

A door-shaped section of the wall slid into the right-side wall, revealing a large room behind it.  The room was furnished in dark, earthy tones with most of the furniture made up of old, polished wood and cloth.  Dumbledore led Harry over to a chair by the fire and sat him in it.  The old wizard then moved over to the fireplace and hovered before it for a moment before turning back around.  Firelight played over Harry’s face from the newly lit blaze and cast light on some of the objects in the room.  Dumbledore knelt down in front of Harry, firelight glinting off his half-moon spectacles.  He reached up and brushed back a hair that had escaped from the ponytail Harry kept his hair back in, then spoke in a gentle voice.

“I’m going to go get Severus.  Will you be alright here on your own?”

Harry nodded numbly, eyes dull and unfocused.

“You may stay here as long as you like.  As far as anyone else will know, you are in the Hospital Wing.

Harry nodded again.  Dumbledore watched him for a moment with weary eyes then rose, patting Harry’s hand as he left.

There was silence in the room except for the crackling of the fire until there was the rasping sound of the door sliding open.  A narrow beam of light lay across the floor until someone entered the room and the door slid closed behind them, leaving only firelight to light the room.  Footsteps cross the floor to the chair by the fire and someone knelt b it, reaching out a hand to run through the figure in the chair’s long, dark hair.

“Harry.”

Harry lifted his head from where he had laid it on the arm of the chair and looked up into his father’s dark eyes.  Concern shone clearly in the black depths.  Severus fought the urge to take his son into his arms as he in turn saw the pain in the familiar green orbs.

“Are you alright?”

Harry shook his head weakly.

“What happened?  Albus told me there was an attack but he didn’t tell me who.”

Harry whispered, “Clearwater…”

“That fifth-year Ravenclaw girl?”

Harry nodded numbly.

Severus sensed there was something else.  He didn’t want to press his already distraught son, but he had to.

“Who else, Harry.”

There was silence in the room.

“Harry,” said Severus softly.  “Who else was attacked?”

Harry looked up to meet his father’s eyes and breathed, “Mione.  Ni.”

“O’Feir?”

Harry nodded, laying his head back down against the chair arm.

“Granger, too.  Two Muggle-borns and a Half-blood.  Merlin save us.  Three.  Three at one time.”

Severus looked at his son curled up in the chair and reached out to run his hand over the silky hair on some strange impulse.  A moment later Harry leapt out of the chair to the floor, burying his face in Severus’ robes as he cried for the first time in nine years.  Severus did what he had been first impulsed to do when he entered the room.  He took his son into his arms and rubbed his hands up and down the boy’s back.

Soon the sobs subsided and Severus saw Harry was asleep.  Smiling, he picked up the thin boy easily and carried him into the bedroom.  He placed him on the bed, covering him with a simple black quilt.  Despite the cold in his classroom and office, his personal quarters were quite warm.  Then, conjuring a chair, he settled down by his son’s side and watched over him as he slept.

Harry awoke someplace warm.  He could hear someone breathing just a few inches away from him, so he knew he wasn’t anywhere in Arx Serpens.

Then what had happened the day before hit him with the force of a sledgehammer and his eyes flew open, not really seeing anything.

The Quidditch match.

The Hospital Wing.

Hermione.

Niamh.

Harry blinked several times, bringing the world back into focus.  He found that he was lying in a large bed under a black quilt made of rather thin material.  And lying with his head rested on his folded arms on the edge of the bed was his father.

Harry smiled and attempted to get up without disturbing the sleeping wizard but before he could move more than a few inches, the dark eyes opened and the head lifted so they looked into Harry’s.

Severus smiled and said, “Good morning.  Sleep well?”

Harry nodded.

“Yeh.  Have ye been ‘ere all night?”

Severus nodded and stretched before rising from his chair with a loud yawn.  He said, “I have.  Breakfast?”

Harry nodded again and climbed out of the bed.  Severus pointed at a folded pile of clothes then at one of two doors in the bedroom.

“Albus had the house-elves bring you down some clothes earlier.  The bathroom is through there and I will be in the main room conjuring up some breakfast for us.”

“Kay,” said Harry, picking up the clothes and retreating to the bathroom.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry emerged from the bathroom a half-hour later, hair still dripping slightly and curling where it was dry.  He dumped his clothes in a basket in the bathroom then wandered back through the bedroom into the main room.

His father was sitting at a round table sitting off to the right, a plate with the remains of bacon and a piece of toast sitting in front of him.  He was sipping from a mug and had a copy of the Daily Prophet laid out before him on the table.  As Harry approached, he lifted his head and smiled warmly.

“There you are.  We’ve got bacon, toast, and eggs.  Just give the plate a tap and say what you want.”

Harry sat down and tapped the plate, quickly telling it what he wanted.  The goblet by his plate dilled up with pumpkin juice as he picked it up.

“Why doan we ‘ave this a’ our tables?”

Severus shrugged and replied, “Who knows?  We teachers only have this in our rooms and offices.  I’ve always wondered about that but have yet to ask Albus about it.”  He smiled slightly then turned back to the Prophet.  Harry watched him fro a moment then turned back to his breakfast.  When he was finished, he said, “I should go ba’ ter Arx Serpens.”

Severus looked up from his paper and asked, “Are you sure?  You’re welcome to stay here for the day.”

“I know.  But…  I’ve go’ ter face ‘em sooner or later.”

Severus smiled.

“And better sooner than later, aye?”

“Righ’.”

He chuckled and shook his head at his son’s courage.  Pure Gryffindor courage.  His mother’s courage.

“Alright.  But remember, these rooms are always open to you.  Just place your hand over the third brick down from the second sconce to the left of my classroom and says the password.”

Harry remembered the words Dumbledore had uttered in that strange, rolling tongue the night before.

“Wha’s the password?”

Severus smiled and replied in an amused voice, “Lily.”

Harry blinked.  He had been expecting an answer such as what Dumbledore had spoken last night.

“Wha’ about…?”

“That rather formal incantation Albus most likely said?”

Harry nodded.

“I was wondering if you would ask about that.  In my family – our family – the only way to gain entrance to the family home was to place our hand on a brass plate on a part of the gates and recite our lineage.  Mother and father wise, that is.  If you were of the family, the gates would open.  Also, the gate was charmed to recognize the lineage of friends of the family.”

“But…”

“Yes, I know, that doesn’t explain much.”  Severus folded his paper before he continued, setting it aside.  “The family home burnt to the ground in my seventh year.  No one knows why but my father miraculously made it out of the blaze unharmed.  I have always believed he simply wanted to rid himself of one of his last ties to my mother; the only other one of which was me.  When Albus gave me my job here after Voldemort fell and I left the Aurors, I returned to the ruins of the house to see what I could find that was left that hadn’t been looted by then.  The brass plate was one of them.  It was set into the wall outside my rooms and charmed so only Albus and I could see it.  None of the other staff even know of its existence.  Nor do they know the password into my rooms.  And neither does Albus.”

Harry frowned and asked, “But – why two ways in?”

“Ah, the almighty question.  Why two ways in.  Well, the password is the original way into the room.  The other teacher’s rooms work in that fashion.  I, however, have it as well because I did not want to take the time to uncharm the door nor tell anyone else about the lineage plate.”

Harry nodded slightly then remembered something else from the night before.

“Wha’ about the language?”

Severus leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.  He sat that way for a moment or two then spoke again.

“The language…  Well, the language is ancient and you have to know it in order to get by the plate.  It is the language of the High Elves, the most regal and noble of the elven breed.  There are very few pureblood elves left as most of them married into wizarding families.  An ancestor on my father’s side married an elven princess of the High King at that time and the lineage plate was their marriage gift, along with the elven-iron gate and stone gate-sides.  They still stand today.  Elven-iron is very resilient.  It can stand the time for centuries before finally falling.  The family home was also a marriage gift.  From Tirades Snape to his elven bride.”

“Elven.”

“Elven.  Too far that we appear nothing as the High Elves did, but their magic still lingers in our blood and their language comes as easily to us as breathing.”

Harry blinked then pushed his chair back from the table and rose.  He said, “I guess I’d better I’d better ge’ goin’.”

Severus nodded and said, “And I had better ready for class.  I have you first today.”

“No Ni or Hermione,” said Harry glumly.  Severus reached out a hand and gently squeezed his son’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Harry.  Soon Emily will have those Mandrakes ready and I shall prepare the restorative draught.  Then Niamh, Miss Granger, and all of the others will be as good an new.”

“An’ ye woan ge’ a thank you.”

Severus smiled.  “I am quite certain I will get on from Miss O’Feir.  But, no matter.  I am used to being hated by my students.  Now, off with you!  Remember, these rooms are always open to you, no matter what time or day of the week.”

Harry nodded and turned to leave then thought better of it.  He turned back to his father, opened his mouth and poured out words in the rich, rolling tongue of the High Elves.  Severus stared at his son for a moment then nodded, replying in the same language.  Though no one else could have understood them (save Dumbledore, perhaps), they would understand each other perfectly.

Harry smiled and said a quick goodbye – in English this time – then left his father’s room, heading down the corridor to Arx Serpens, heart heavy with the thought of Niamh not being there.

Harry headed up from the dungeons towards the infirmary instead of down the hall from his father’s rooms to Arx Serpens.  He couldn’t stand to enter the common room knowing that Niamh wouldn’t be there.

It wasn’t until he was one corridor down from the infirmary that he heard the conversation.

“Two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and a Hufflepuff.  Haven’t any of the teachers noticed that all the Slytherins are safe?”

Harry bristled visibly and leapt around the corner, eyes flashing with wild, feral anger.

“No Slytherins, aye?  No Slytherin a’tol.  Piss and sod!”

The Weasley twin’s friend Lee Jordan (the one who had spoken) turned to stare at him.

“Harry!”

Harry bared his teeth in a parody of a grin and spat, “Aye.  Me.  Can’na talk abou’ we Slytherin ter our faces, can ye?  I though’ ye were me frien’, Lee.”

Lee looked into Harry’s fierce, angry eyes for a few seconds then turned away.  Harry sneered, “Can’na looked me in the face?  Can’na speak the truth?”

“What the hell are you talking about, snake?” spat the other Gryffindor in the group, a sixth-year.

“Niamh O’Feir is wha’ I’m talkin’ about!  Cowards!  Braggarts!  Bastards!  Ye bloody bastards!  A Slytherin lies in the Hospital Wing and ye say we ‘aven’t been touched.  Blaggards!  All the ‘Ouses blood ‘as been spilt!  Leave i’ alone!”

Harry glared at each of them then shoved past them.  He walked on to the Hospital Wing, blood boiling.  Fists clenched, he shoved past the door and a surprised Madam Pomfrey, casting a furious scowl in the mediwitch’s direction as he breezed past.  He stalked over to Niamh’s bed, threw the curtain aside, and walked in.  Flopping down in the chair sitting by the bed, he fell into a brooding state until a hand touched his shoulder a good many hours later later.

“Harry.”

Harry looked up at Ron and snarled irritably, “What?”

“Let’s go visit Hagrid.”

Harry glanced back at Niamh then turned back to Ron’s pleading face.  He nodded reluctantly and sighed, “Alrigh’.  Let me go ge’ me cloak.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

A half-our later the two of them were creeping over the lawn down to Hagrid’s hut in the fading light of day under Harry’s invisibility cloak.  As they walked, Ron asked, “D’you think they’ll suspect Hagrid?”

Harry shrugged, thinking of how he could see why Riddle would have turned Hagrid in.  Had he not found out that his father wasn’t really who everyone thought he was, he would have been looking forward to a lifetime with the Dursley’s as Riddle had to his Muggle orphanage.

The two of them hurried across the lawn to Hagrid’s hut, hurriedly knocking on the door.  The door flew open a moment later the two boys found themselves on the end of a crossbow.  Harry threw the cloak aside as Ron hissed, “Hagrid, its us!”

Hagrid blinked and lowered his weapon.

“What’re you two doin’ out here?”

“What’s that for?” asked Ron as they stepped inside, ignoring Hagrid’s question.

“Nothin’ – nothin’,” said Hagrid.  “Tea?”

“Did ye heard about Hermione and Niamh?” asked Harry suddenly.

“Yeh,” said Hagrid with a break in his voice, which was just the way Harry felt.

Harry and Ron then watched as Hagrid nearly extinguished the fire and smashed a cup from their seats.  Harry finally got up and made the larger man sit down then made the tea himself.  The three of them were almost finished when there was a knock at the door.

Fang leapt up from his spot at Harry’s feet as Hagrid grabbed his crossbow.  Ron chucked the other two cups into the sink as Harry grabbed the cloak and flung it over himself, pulling Ron under a moment later.  Hagrid glanced at them then rose and flung open the door.

“Good evening, Hagrid.”

Dumbledore entered the cabin, looking deadly serious.  He was followed by a very strange-looking man who had rumpled gray hair, an anxious expression and was wearing even stranger clothes; a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots.  The thing Harry took most notice to was the lime-green bowler tucked under his arm.

Ron suddenly hissed, “That’s Dad’s boss!  Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!”

“Shut i’!” hissed Harry, looked at Hagrid, who had gone pale and collapsed into a chair.

Fudge looked around the cabin then said, “Bad business, Hagrid.  Four attacks on Muggle-borns.  Ministry’s got to act.”

Hagrid’s eyes went wide.

“I never.”  He looked Dumbledore and continued, “You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir –”

“Hagrid has my full confidence, Cornelius.”

“Hagrid’s record’s against him, Albus.  The Ministry has to something –”

“I will tell you once more, Cornelius, that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest.”

Fudge sighed.

“I’m under a lot of pressure, Albus.  I have to do something.  If it turns out not to be Hagrid, he will be returned.  But I have to take him.”

“Take me?  Take me where?”

“Just for a short time.  A precaution, mind you, not a punishment.  If someone else is caught, you’ll be released with a full apology.”

“Azkaban?”

Harry couldn’t help but suck in a hiss of surprised breath.  He had read about Azkaban.  And its jailers.  He pitied anyone that had to go in there, whether they be innocent or guilty.  As he saw it, it was Hell on earth.

Before anyone could say anything else, there was another knock at the door.  Dumbledore answered it this time and both Harry and Ron hissed in anger.

Lucius Malfoy entered the cabin, cold gray eyes sweeping around the room and its occupants (minus the two under the invisibility cloak).  Fang began to growl and Harry fervently wished the boarhound would launch himself at the black-cloaked man’s throat.

“Ah, Fudge.  Already here I see…”

“Get outta my house!” growled Hagrid.

“Now, now,” said Lucius, “ no need for that.  I have no pleasure at all to be inside your house.  I simply called on the school and was told the headmaster was here.”

“What do you want with me, Lucius?” asked Dumbledore, eyes blazing with blue fire.

Malfoy pulled out a roll of parchment and waved it at the older wizard.

“This.  An Order of Suspension from the governors.  They feel it’s time for you to step aside.  All twelve signatures are on it.”  He shook his head in a mock sad manner and continued, “We feel you’re losing your touch.  Two more Muggle-born attacks yesterday, were there not?  At this rate, there’ll be no more Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts.  And what an awful loss that would be.”

Harry peeled his lips back from his teeth in a snarl.  “Bastard,” he hissed in a voice dripping with rage, glaring coldly at Malfoy.  Ron was too afraid of having that glare turned on him that he didn’t both to hush him.

“Now, see here, Lucius.  Dumbledore suspended – no, no – that’s the last thing…”

“The appointment – and suspension – of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge.  As Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks…”

“If Dumbledore can’t stop these attacks, Malfoy, who can?”

“That remains to be seen.  But the twelve of us have voted…”

“An’ how many did yeh have ter threaten an’ blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy?” roared Hagrid as he leapt to his feet.

“That temper of yours will lead you into trouble one day, Hagrid.  I advise you not to yell at the Azkaban guards like that,” drawled Malfoy.

“Yeh can’ take Dumbledore!  Take him, an’ the Muggle-borns won’ stand a chance!  There’ll be killin’ next time!”

“Calm yourself, Hagrid,” said Dumbledore sharply.

“If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside…”

“But…” said a flustered Fudge.

“NO!” growled Hagrid.

“However,” said Dumbledore, “ I will never truly leave this school until there are none left how are loyal to me.  Help will also always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”

“An admirable sentiment,” sneered Malfoy.  “I’m sure we shall miss your rather – individual – way of running things.  We can only hope your successor will manage to prevent any – killins.”

Malfoy opened the cabin door and Dumbledore swept out, his blue eyes flashing over to the corner where Harry and Ron stood.  Fudge waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him but the larger man stood his ground.

“If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, they’d do good ter follow the spiders.  That’s lead ‘em right!”

Harry and Ron looked at each other under the cloak.

Hagrid started for the door then said loudly, “An’ someone’d need ter feed Fang while I’m away.”  The door shut behind them and Ron pulled off the cloak.

“This is just great.  With Dumbledore gone, they might as well close the school now.  There’ll be an attack tomorrow with him gone.”

Harry nodded solemnly and looked sadly at Fang, who had begun to howl for his master.

Harry looked for spiders for days after Hagrid’s hint.  Not finding any with Mika and a rather reluctant Ron’s help, he finally set Jardin to the task.  If the raven could find anything, its would be a spider.  Another reason for this was that they were hampered by the fact that they had to wander about into groups and most of the teachers looked down on two Slytherins walking about with a sole Gryffindor, which highly irked Mika and Harry.

The only person in the school who was enjoying the new aura in the school was Malfoy.  Harry was ready to punch him for the way he kept strutting around the school and almost did in Potions class one day.

“I always thought Father would be the one to get rid of Dumbledore.  He thinks Dumbledore’s the worst headmaster the school’s ever had.  Maybe we’ll get a decent one now.  McGonagall isn’t going to last long….”

Snape swept on by, his eyes flicking to Hermione and Niamh’s empty seats on either side of the room before moving to Harry.

“Why don’t you apply for the headmaster’s job, sir?” asked Draco loudly as Snape went past.

Snape turned and replied in clipped tones, “Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors, Mr. Malfoy.  He will most likely be back with us soon enough.”

“Yeah, right.  I know you’d have Father’s vote if you wanted to apply for the job, sir.”

“That is most – complementing - , Malfoy, but I daresay I would not make as a good a headmaster as this schools current one.”  He sent a warning glance at Harry, who had half-turned on his stool and was sending a furious glare at Draco.  His son relaxed slightly when he saw the warning in his father’s eyes.

Draco went on, “I’m surprised the Mudbloods haven’t all packed their bags.  Too bad one hasn’t died yet.  I wish it was O’Feir…”

Harry snarled in rage just as the bell rang and made an attempt to get at Draco in the scuffle to collect bags and books.  Draco spotted the murderous look on Harry’s face and paled to a chalky white, quickly gathering his things and heading for the door as fast as possible.

“Let me go!” snarled Harry as Mika and Ron grabbed his arms.  “I’ll kill him fer tha’!  I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him!”

“Mr. Potter, come into my office.  The rest of you stay here.  If anyone thinks of setting foot outside my door before I return to escort you to your next class, you’ll find yourself serving detention with me until you graduate.”

Snape grasped Harry’s shoulder and forcibly dragged him into his office, slamming the door shut and casting a Silencing Charm on it.  He then turned and placed both hands on the boy’s shoulders.

“Calm down.  I know your angry at him but that won’t help bring Niamh back.”

“I’ll feel better,” muttered Harry in a low growl.

“Maybe.  For a few moments, at least.  He doesn’t know how to fight with fists.  It wouldn’t be much of a challenge for you.  I know.  I saw what you did to him when he killed Hedwig.  But bloodying him up won’t solve anything and it won’t make you feel any better.  I should know.”

Harry looked up at his father, eyes gleaming with anger as he searched the older man’s face.  After a moment he closed his eyes and sighed.

“Alrigh’.”

Snape smiled.  “Alright.  Niamh’ll be back, Harry.  And Draco’s comment will just keep on coming.  You just have to ignore them.  And him.”

“Its ‘ard though.  On the streets ye fought i’ out.  ‘Ere – ye just let i’ settle and fester.”

“I know.  I grew up on the streets too, remember?  I know its hard but you can do it.”  Snape smiled and added, “You have your mother’s ability to do anything you wish.  Her courage, too.  Pure Gryffindor courage and stubbornness.  And her heart.  You can ignore Draco and his taunts because you are your mother’s son.”

Harry cracked a smiled and murmured, “Na completely.”

Snape caught on and grinned.

“Well, perhaps not completely her son…”

Harry chuckled and said, “Thanks.  Da’.”

Snape wrapped his arm about his son’s shoulder, grinning even more now.

“Anytime, Harry.  Anytime.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry was walking down the hallway to the dungeons, later that day when he ran into someone.  Looking up, he found himself face-to-face with Ernie Macmillian, the Hufflepuff who had compared him to Draco in the library.  Ernie shifted nervously for a moment, his eyes never really focusing on Harry’s face, then finally spoke.

“I-I’m sorry I ever thought it was you, Harry.  I know you’d never attack Niamh O’Feir, let alone Hermione Granger.  I-I apologize for all I said.”

Ernie held out a shaking hand and after a moment, Harry took it.  He quirked a smile and said, “All fergotten, Ernie.  An between yer an’ me, I’d ‘ave suspected me meself.”

Ernie grinned nervously and asked, “Really?”

“Really.”

Ernie grinned even more and bubbled, “Thanks, Harry.  I’m really glad its not you.”

Harry arched an eyebrow and asked, “Why?”

“Well, you can be awfully scary, y’know.  Sometimes ever more so than Snape.”

Harry gave a small snort at that.

“And, you know all those curses and stuff.”

Harry’s face fell now.  Reference to his hobby (one of them, anyway) reminded him of Niamh, his partner in that particular area.  Ernie realized what he had said a moment later.

“Oh.  I forgot.  Sorry…”

Harry waved a hand, a gesture he had picked up from his father.

“Doan worry abou’ i’, Ernie.  Ni’ll be back soon enough.  An’ so’ll everyone else that’s been Petrified.”

“But…”

“Doan worry abou’ i’.”

“Alright, Harry.  See you.”

Harry nodded.  “Righ’.  See you.”

Ernie smiled slightly then walked hurriedly off.  Harry stood looking after him for a few moments then turned to head down to Arx Serpens.

< Harry! >

Hell’s bells…  Jar?

< Who bloody else? > remarked the raven as he dove through an open window and landed on Harry’s uplifted arm.  He walked down his arm until he reached Harry’s shoulder, where he puffed up his feathers and began to preen a wing.

Find anything?

< ‘Find anything’ he says.  You ask me to find spiders.  I found them.  Great golly big spiders.  Acromantula’s.  I hate acromantula’s.  Brute’s they are. >

Probably because you eat their cousins.

< Hmphf. >

Harry smiled and stroked the raven’s feathers, noting that tiny pieces of web were stuck to part of them.

Where did you find them?

< Where else would you find an acromantula around here?  The Forbidden Forest, of course. >

Did you talk to them?

Jardin stopped preening his wing and turned his head so one pale eye glared into Harry’s.

< I told you.  I cannot speak with other magical creatures besides those of my own kind.  Had I the ability to speak out loud, I could, but as I do not, that is impossible. >

So…

< So, > said Jardin, turned back to his wing.  < You’ll have to go talk to them yourself.  I suggest tonight.  The sooner the better. >

Harry nodded and asked, Can you go get Ron for me?

< Certainly.  Would you like a cup of tea while I’m at it? >

Jar…

< Sorry.  I just tend to be a little sarcastic after I nearly get eaten by a giant spider.  Perhaps you should try it sometime. >

I will.  Tonight.

Jardin turned his head to look at Harry with one pale gold eye and said, < I hope you know what you’re doing, Harry. >

“So d’ I,” muttered Harry as he headed for Arx Serpens and Jardin flew off to find Ron.

“What about the – er – werewolves?  Aren’t there werewolves in the forest?”

“Piss and sod ter the werewolves.  We’re lookin’ fer the spiders.  An’ besides, there are goo’ things in the forest too.”  Harry had an image of the Darcorn that had saved him and Niamh in his min’s eyes as he said this.  He wondered if he might see it on this trip into the forest.

“C’mon,” he hissed to Ron as they neared Hagrid’s hut.  He pushed the door open and was greeted by Fang, who jumped up on him and began to lick his face.

“Pleh – nice ter see ye too, Fang.”

Ron plucked the plunked the invisibility cloak down on the table.  They wouldn’t need it in the forest.

Harry finally separated Fang from his face and growled, “Le’s go.  C’mon, Fang.”

The three of them set off from Hagrid’s hut towards the forest, Fang bounding joyfully in front of them.  Ron muttered, “Why couldn’t we bring Jardin?”

“‘Cause ‘e can’na find ‘is way in the dark.  Light yer wand.  We’ll need i’.”

Ron nodded and the both of them said, “Lumos.”  Light blossomed at the tip of their wand and they looked at each other before setting off.

“Look.”

A line of spiders scrambled over the ground in front of them.  Harry and Ron looked at each other again then began to follow them, only pausing when the spiders left the path.

“What’s wrong?”

Harry shook his head and kept on going.  Hagrid may have told him to stay on the forest path the last time he was there but this was emergency.

They followed the spiders deeper and deeper into the forest, where the darkness pressed down heavily upon them and they could only see two feet in any direction.

Snap!

“What was that?” asked Ron in a squeaky voice.

Harry shook his head, eyes darting from side to side.  Suddenly he sense something coming up behind them and turned in time to see two long, hair legs seize him about the middle.  Whatever had grabbed him seized him up and began to carry him away.

And from the two surprise yelps he heard, whatever had gotten him, two more had gotten Ron and Fang.

He watched the ground, as it suddenly got lighter.  He could see spiders scrambling across the leaf strewn forest floor.  Then they entered a huge hollow lit by the stars far above and the creature that held him dropped him onto the ground.  Ron and Fang landed beside him with two muffled thumps.  The boarhound whimpered and cowered down beside Harry.  Ron, meanwhile, was staring open-mouthed in horror at the scene before them.

Spiders.  Huge, black spiders surrounded them, towering over them.

Harry suddenly noticed that the spiders were talking as their pincers gnashed together.  The spider that had carried him stepped towards a domed web in the center of the hollow, clicking its pincers as it spoke.

“Aragog!  Aragog!”

A huge spider – much larger than those around Harry, Ron, and Fang – emerged from the domed web slowly.  Harry could see gray on his body and the milky whiteness of his eight eyes.  The giant spider was blind.

“What is it?”

“Men,” replied the spider that had caught Harry.

“Is it Hagrid?” asked Aragog and Harry looked at Ron, who was still gaping in horror at the spiders.

“Strangers.”

“Kill them.  I was sleeping…”

Harry’s breath caught in this throat.  He mentally swore then yelled, “We’re frien’s o’ Hagrid’s!”

Aragog paused and his blinked swiveled in Harry’s direction.

“Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before.”

“Hagrid’s in trouble.  Tha’s why we’ve come.”

“In trouble?” said Aragog, concern tinting his voice.  “Why has be sent you?”

“They thin’ Hagrid’s been settin’ a monster on students up a’ the school.  They’ve taken ‘im ter Azkaban.”

Aragog clicked his pincers in a furious manner and the sound was echoed all around the hollow.

“That was years ago.  Many years ago.  That is why they made Hagrid leave the school.  They thought I was the monster that dwells in their Chamber of Secrets.”

“But yer na,” breathed Harry.

“I!  I was not born in the castle.  A stranger gave me to Hagrid as an egg and he cared for me, feeding me scraps from the table.  He is my good friend.  When I was discovered, he protected me.  He even found me a wife and you see how our family has grown.”

Harry’s eyes flicked to the spiders around him.  Yes, he could see exactly how much Aragog’s family had grown…

“So – ye never attacked anyone?”

“Never.  Out of respect for Hagrid I never harmed a human.  I never even saw a part of the castle but my cupboard.  Our kind like the dark…”

Now that sparked an idea…

Harry filed that information away then asked, “Do ye know wha’ did kill tha’ girl?  Whatever i’ is, its ba’ and attacking people again?”

Pincers clicked angrily all around him and he reached for the smooth wood of his wand.

“The creature that lives in the castle is ancient.  We spiders fear it above all others.  I pleaded much with Hagrid to let me go when I sensed it moving about the school.”

“What is i’?”

“We do not speak its name!”

Harry thought that sounded rather like most of the wizarding world and Voldemort.  Now that really sparked a thought…

“Thanks.  We’ll jus’ be goin’ then,” said Harry.

“Go?  I think not…” drawled Aragog.  “I cannot deny my children fresh meat when it wanders willingly into our midst.”

Harry spat a curse and leapt to his feet as the spiders moved closer, pincers clicking.  He pulled out his wand and roared, “Lumos solem!”

Bright light flooded the hollow and the spiders shrieked, scurrying back away from them.  A second later another black shape hurtled into the hollow, the bright light glinting off its ebony horn.

The Darcorn!

Harry yelled in surprised and sheathed his wand as the huge, black unicorn thundered to a halt before him.  He looked into the dark eyes for a moment then grabbed Ron and shoved him upwards onto its back.

“What…?”

Harry grabbed Fang about the middle a moment later and shoved him up into Ron’s arms.  The Darcorn stomped a hoof and snorted, blowing out wisps of breath that were silver in the bright light, and Harry noticed that the light from his spell was fading, the spiders slinking closer once more.  He grabbed onto the Darcorn’s mane and swung himself up onto its back in front of Ron.  The muscles bunched under the inky black coat and Harry yelled to Ron, “‘Old on!”

The last of the light faded from the hollow and the spiders charged.  Ron screamed in horror while Fang let out a howl.  Harry reached back blindly to grab onto Ron’s shirt at that, afraid his friend would lose his grip in his horror.  He kept his face away from the approaching spiders and hissed to the Darcorn in what he would later find was the Elven language, not English.

But while the spiders were fast, the Darcorn was faster.  It barreled forward through a gap in the spiders and ran on into the forest, the spiders clicking angrily as they followed.  They kept up for a while but soon the Darcorn left them behind, racing on into the forest with Harry, Ron, and Fang clinging to its back.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

After what seemed like hours of racing through the forest, the Darcorn finally galloped out onto the Hogwarts ground, slowing to a smooth trot as it neared Hagrid’s hut.  As soon as it stopped, Fang leapt off and ran into the cabin. Ron, shaking, slipped off while Harry sat up on its back for a moment longer, his fingers stroking the silky fur that could have been soaked with sweat after that run but was not.  When he finally slid down, Ron was leaning heavily against the cabin wall being violently sick.  Harry patted the Darcorn’s shoulder and whispered, “Thank ye.”  The huge creature nickered softly and gently nipped his fingers before turning and vanishing into the forest at a lope.  Harry watched it until it vanished then turned to Ron, who was wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“‘Follow the spiders’ he says.  Trust Hagrid to have a giant spider for a friend.  I’ll never forgive him.”

“‘E probably though’ Aragog would’n hurt friend o’ his.”

“That’s Hagrid’s problem!  He thinks monsters aren’t as bad as they’re made out and now look where he is!  A cell in Azkaban!”

Harry shook his head at Ron and went inside to get the invisibility cloak.  Fang was shivering uncontrollably in his basket and Harry gave the dog a gentle pat, murmuring something.  When he returned outside he found Ron wiping his mouth with his sleeve again.

“What exactly did we accomplish by nearly getting killed?” growled Ron.

“We found ou’ tha’ Hagrid did’n open the Chamber,” replied Harry.  “‘E’s innocent.”

Ron snorted as Harry threw the cloak over the both of them and they began to walk.  As they neared the castle, Ron asked, “And what was that that saved us?”

“A Darcorn.”

“A what?”

Harry smirked.  “A black unicorn.  They’re supposedly evil but I doan thin’ so.”

Ron rolled his eyes and said, “You’re as creature crazy as Hagrid.”

“Na.  I would’n try ter raise an acromantula.”

“Thank Merlin for that.”

Harry laughed then pulled the front door open.  They crept inside and up to Gryffindor Tower, where Ron slipped out from under the cloak and inside quickly.  Harry then turned to leave, barely catching the Fat Lady’s warning for him to be careful.  He murmured a reply then headed for the dungeons.

Once inside the common room, he went to the corner that had been deemed the ‘Hexer’s Corner’ because of his and Niamh’s occupation of that space while studying up on hexes and curses.  And also because of their nicknames.

Collapsing in a chair, her rolled up the invisibility cloak and used it as a pillow.  His mind drifted and he thought of the creature that Aragog had described.  It sounded so much like Voldemort that it was uncanny…

Suddenly he sat up.  Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

Leaping out of the chair, he ran over to one of the bookshelves scattered about the common room and grabbed a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.  Flipping hurriedly to the page he wanted, he skimmed it quickly then gasped when he found what he was looking for.

Why hadn’t he realized…

Harry snapped the book shut and shoved it back onto its shelf.  He knew now what Slytherin’s monster was.  And why he kept hearing that voice in the corridors.

But what about the girl it had killed?

Harry frowned and thought about the various ghosts he knew about in the castle.  He remembered the Gray Lady once telling him of a girl’s ghost that haunted one of the second floor bathrooms.  She had told him that the girl had died some odd fifty years ago…

Hell’s bells…

Harry gasped as the pieces of the puzzle came together.  If he was right – if he was right – he knew what the creature in the Chamber was and where it was.

Harry informed Ron and Mika of his suspicions the next day and told Mika of what he and Ron had been doing.  The white-haired boy gaped at him in shock.

“The forest?  Acromantula’s?  Why in Slytherin’s name didn’t you invite me, Harry?  I’d have killed to see that Darcorn!  They’re a hell of a lot rarer than a unicorn.”

“Sorry, Mika.  Did’n thin’.  But loo’, if I’m righ’, the creature in the Chamber is a Basilisk.”

“If your right,” said Ron.

“Yeh.  Though I doan know wha’ else i’ would be.  I’ jus’ makes sense.”

“What makes sense, Mr. Potter?”

The three boys looked up at McGonagall, who was looking sternly down at them.

“Nothin’, professor,” said Harry in a calm, unhurried voice.  “Nothin’ a’tol.”

McGonagall frowned and snapped, “Then move along.”

Harry nodded and walked around her, moving swiftly down the hall in long strides.  Ron and Mika followed him and as soon as they rounded the corner Mika spat, “What’s her problem?  She’s had it in for you since day one, Harry?”

“I know,” muttered Harry, frowning.  Why did McGonagall seem to dislike him so much?  Could it simply be because he was a Slytherin?  Or…could she know?  Could she have seen what no one else had seen?  Could she have seen the subtle, but most definitely there, resemblance between him and his father?

Harry shook off those thoughts.  He had bigger worries.

“C’mon, Mika.  We’ve go’ Lock’art.”

“Oh, still my heart.”

Ron snorted and said goodbye to the two of them, walking over to join the group of Gryffindors heading for the Charms classroom.  Mika and Harry continued on their way and soon came to the Defense classroom, making their way to the back of the room.  Harry looked sadly at the seat to his right where Niamh should have been then scowled when Lockhart bounced into the room.

“Wonderful new!  The Mandrakes are ready and tonight the victims shall be awakened.”

Mika let out a whoop but was hushed by Harry’s sneer.  The dark-haired boy could already hear the next words out of Lockhart’s mouth.

“And mark my words, the first thing out of those poor people’s mouths will be ‘It was Hagrid.’”

Harry snorted loudly, earning a look from Lockhart.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?”

Harry opened his mouth to say something rather rude, but was stopped when Mika stomped hard on his foot.  Eyes flashing fire, he ground out in a slightly strained voice, “No, sir.  Nothin’ a’tol.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Now that would have been really stupid, Harry.  What if you had said something that had brought suspicion back onto you?  Most people already don’t trust you because you’re a Parselmouth.”

Harry shook his head as he and Mika headed towards the dungeons.

“But I’m na the only one.  Whoever is controllin’ the Basilisk is one two.”

“Y’know, we should tell someone.”

“Snape?”

Mika threw up his hands and turned his eyes upwards.  “Who else?”

Harry chuckled and looked at his watch.

“Le’s go ter the staff room.  ‘E should be there soon.”

Mika nodded and the two of them headed in that direction, sweeping up Ron as they went by the Charms classroom.

“Where are we going?”

“Staff room to talk to Snape,” replied Mika.

“Why not just go to his office?”

“Because…”

McGonagall’s magnified voice echoing through the hall silenced Mika’s voice.

“All students return to their House dormitories at once.  All teachers return to the staff room.  Immediately.”

The three boys froze.

“Another attack?” gasped Mika.

“C’mon!” snarled Harry as he took off at a dead run.  They made it into the staff room just as McGonagall and Sprout rounded the corner.  Harry spotted a wardrobe and hissed, “I’ there.  Quick!”

The three of them scrambled inside of it and Ron nearly shut the door (“Never shut yourself in a wardrobe!” hissed Mika) when the staff room door banged open.  They hid themselves among the cloaks as outside there were a few minutes of a confused murmuring before McGonagall spoke.

“A student has been taken by the monster.  Right into the Chamber itself.”

Flitwick squealed as Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth.  Harry (he had gotten by the door) could see his father grip the back of a chair and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said McGonagall.  “The Heir of Slytherin left another message right underneath the first one.  ‘Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.’”

“Which student?” asked a very white Madam Hooch.

“Ginny Weasley,” replied McGonagall, sending a rather sad look in Snape’s direction.  Harry heard Ron slid down to the floor of the wardrobe.

Snape turned a pasty shade of white and gasped, “One of my Slytherins?”

McGonagall nodded and said, “We have to send all the students home tomorrow.  This is the end of Hogwarts…”

Suddenly the staff room door banged open again and Lockhart bounded in, beaming.

“Sorry – dozed off – what have I missed?”

The other teachers were glaring at him but he didn’t seem to notice.  Snape stepped forward, still pale but eyes blazing, and Harry couldn’t help but smile.  Oh Lockhart was going to get it…

“Just the man.  A girl – one of my Slytherins – has been taken into the Chamber itself.  Your moment has come at last.”

Lockhart paled.

“Wh-why, Severus, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Snape sneered and Sprout chipped in.

“That’s right, Gilderoy.  Weren’t you just saying last night that you’ve know all along where the entrance to the Chamber is?”

Lockhart gaped like a wish and Mika and Harry laughed softly in mirth.

“Well – I-I…”

“Didn’t you tell me you know what was inside the Chamber?” piped Flitwick.

“D-did I?”

“I certainly recall you saying you were sorry you hadn’t had a chance at the monster before Hagrid was arrested.  Didn’t you sat that you should have had free rein from the beginning?” said Snape in clipped, icy tones.  Harry silently cheered his father.

Lockhart looked around fearfully at the stony-faced professors.

“We will leave it to you then, Gilderoy.  We’ll make sure everyone’s out of your way.”  McGonagall fixed Lockhart with a cold look as she said this.

Lockhart gasped some more then finally said, “V-very well.  I’ll be in my office g-getting ready.”  He turned and fled.

“Now that he’s out from under our feet…  The Heads of Houses should go and inform the students.  Tell them the Hogwarts Express will be taking them home first thing tomorrow.  The rest of you make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories.”

The teachers nodded and left, one by one.  As soon as they were gone, Harry, Ron, and Mika tumbled out of the wardrobe onto the floor.

Mika gasped, “Ginny,” and hung his head.  Ron began to mutter that is was all his fault, head held in his hand.  Harry simply sat there, staring into space.  He had to do something about this.

And he had to do it now.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry and Mika sat together on the couch in the shadowed corner, staring blankly at nothing.  Mika finally asked, “D’you – d’you think she’s…”

Harry looked at his friend and shook his head.

“Na.  And I’m goin’ ter make sure she is’n.”

He got up and walked into his dorm, returning with a bundle stuffed under his shirt.  Mika rose and asked quietly, “What are you going to do?”

“Go an’ ge’ her,” replied Harry with a snarl.

“You’re not forgetting me this time.”

Harry looked stonily at Mika for a moment then said, “Alrigh’.  Le’s go ge’ Ron.”

Mika nodded and they headed for the door out into the hall.  Just as they reached it, Draco’s voice drawled, “Where are you two going?  We’re supposed to stay in our common room.”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” snapped Mika, clamping a hand on Harry’s arm.  Harry simply narrowed his eyes at Draco then turned and swept out of the room, dragging Mika along with him.  He pulled out the invisibility cloak and covered the both of them with it as they set out for Gryffindor Tower.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Rap, rap.

“Enter.”

“Sir?”

“Mr. Malfoy.  To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I thought I’d tell you, sir.”

Sigh.

“Tell me what?”

“That Potter and Davids left the dormitory.”

Gasp.

“They did what?”

“Left the dormitory, sir.”

“How long ago?”

“A few minutes.”

“Thank you, Malfoy.  Return to Arx Serpens.  I will handle Mister’s Potter and Davids.”

“Yes, sir.”

Snape rose and sped from his office, heart hammering against his ribs as he wondered where his son could have gone.

Draco, ignorant of Snape’s worried thoughts, smirked and punched his fist into his other hand.

He had Potter now.  Even if Hogwarts opened again after this, Potter would be expelled, along with Davids.

He laughed gleefully.

He had them!

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Lady, please.  We’re goin’ ter save ‘is sister.”

The Fat Lady frowned at Harry then nodded.

“Alright, dear.  But you make sure you bring him back.  And yourselves with that poor girl!”

“We will,” promised Harry.  The Fat Lady smiled slightly then swung aside.  Harry sprang inside and ran through the common room to where Ron sat with Fred and George, who were unnaturally subdued.  He grabbed Ron’s arm and grabbed him out into the hall, flinging him under the cloak.

“What the…  Harry?  Mika?”

“Shhh!” hissed Harry as he pushed Ron along the corridor.

“What’s going on?” breathed Ron, looking from one boy to the other.

Mika replied, “We’re going to save Ginny.”

Ron looked at Harry then growled, “Let’s go.”  Harry nodded and the three of them crept down the corridors until they reached the second floor, where they heard the sounds of grunting.  Peering around a corner, they saw Lockhart piling books back into a box.  Harry sneered and flung off the cloak, knowing exactly what Lockhart was doing.

“Leavin’, professor?”

Lockhart let out a startled scream and dropped the heavy book he was holding.  In another part of the castle, Snape took off at a run towards the sound.

“H-Harry!”

Harry sneered, “Yeh.  Me.”  He shook his head and snarled, “An’ ye call yourself a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“Well – when I took the job – nothing in the job description…”

“What about my sister?” roared Ron, throwing the cloak off as well.  Mika followed, eyeing Lockhart coolly.

“Very unfortunate…”

“Unfortunate!  What about your books!”

Lockhart shook his head sadly and said, “Now, now.  You shouldn’t believe everything you read.”

Harry bared his teeth and spat, “Ni was righ’.  Yer nothin’ but a fraud.”

“Now, now, Harry.  If there’s one thing I pride myself on its my Memory Charms.  Now that the three of you know, I can’t have you babbling my secrets.  Its not all books signings and publicity involved, you know.  I have to track the people down and ask them how they’d done what they’d done.”

“And took credit for their accomplishment!” yelled Mika.

“Sadly, yes,” said Lockhart, drawing his wand.  “Now…”

Harry had his wand out in a split-second and roared, “Expelliarmus!”

Lockhart was blasted backwards, tumbling to the floor.  His wand flew up into the air and Mika caught it, bringing it down across his knee in a fit of anger.  The white-haired boy then snarled, “Shouldn’t have let Professor Snape teach us that one.”

Harry snarled incoherently in agreement and point his wand at Lockhart, who was shaking, “Get up.”

Lockhart fumbled to his feet and said, “What do you want me to do?  I don’t know where the Chamber of Secrets is.  There’s nothing I can do.”

Harry sneered, “Lucky fer you we know where i’ is.  An’ wha’s inside i’.  Now move.”

Lockhart preceded them down the hall way to the bathroom next to the spot where the two messages still shone on the wall.  Harry shoved Lockhart inside and was highly pleased to see the man shaking.  Looking at Mika and Ron, he sheathed his wand.  Ron trained his on Lockhart as Mika laid the invisibility cloak aside before drawing his own.  Harry then walked down to the last stall and opened it, recalling what the Gray Lady had told him about this ghost.

“Myrtle?”

Moaning Myrtle looked up and said, “What do you want?”

“Ter ask ye how ye died.”

Myrtle’s face lit up at that.

“It was dreadful.  Happened right in this very stall.  I’d hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses.  I was crying and then I heard somebody come in.  They said something gunny – a different language, I think.  But it was a boy.  So, I opened the door to tell him to go away and then – I died.”

“‘Ow?”

“I don’t know.  My whole body just seized up and then I was floating away.  And then I came back.  I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see.  She was sorry she’d ever laughed at my glasses.”  Myrtle paused then added, “But I do remember a pair of great, big, yellow eyes.”

Harry smirked and thought, Bingo.  He then asked, “Where did ye see the eyes?”

“Somewhere there,” said Myrtle, pointing at one of the sinks.  Harry walked over to it and studied it.  It looked ordinary enough except for the snake carved on one of the taps.  He tried to turn it and Myrtle said brightly, “That taps never worked.”

“Say something in Parseltongue, Harry,” suggested Mika, eying the snake.

Harry frowned.  He had only spoken Parseltongue when a live snake had been around before.  But, what the hell…

“Open up.”

“English,” said Ron.

Harry cursed and glared at the snake, imaging that it was real.  He spat again, “Open up.”

A strange hissing escaped him and the tap began to spin, glowing brilliant white.  The sink then sank into the floor, revealing a man-sized pipe.  Harry turned to Ron and Mika and said, “Le’s go.”

Ron and Mika nodded in agreement.

Lockhart suddenly said, “Well, you don’t seem to need to anymore, so…”

Three wands trained on him and six eyes glowered at him.

“You can go first, “snarled Mika.

Lockhart inched towards the opening, beginning to shake again.

“Boy…”

“Move,” snarled Harry.  Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe and was about to say something but Ron shoved him down into it first.  Harry waited a moment then followed.

The pipe was dark and slimy and seemed endless.  There were other pipe’s branching off from the one that they were in but Harry kept going straight.  He could also sense that he was going down further than the dungeons.  Much further.  Behind him came the sounds of Ron and Mika following him.

Suddenly the pipe leveled off and he shot out of it, landing on the damp floor with a wet thump.  Getting to his feet, he saw Lockhart hovering a few feet away, covered in slime and moaning something about his hair.  Ron suddenly shot of the tunnel, followed by Mika.

“Where are we?” asked Mika.

“Under the lake, probably,” said Ron, pulling a bit of slime out of his hair.  “Ugh.”

“Remind me to never go on vacation here.”

Harry pulled out his wand and muttered, “Lumos.”  Ron and Mika echoed him a moment later as he turned to them.

“C’mon.”

They set off, Lockhart lagging behind them.

“Close your eyes if you see anything,” warned Mika.

They walked in silence until they rounded a bend and Ron said, “There’s something up there…”

Something huge and curved lay across the tunnel before them, not moving.

“Maybe its asleep,” breathed Mika.

Harry crept forward, wand held high.  The light from his wand fell on a vivid green snake skin.  Whatever had shed it had to have been at least twenty feet long.

“Blimey,” said Mika weakly.

At a sudden movement behind them, all three of them turned.  Harry lunged and Lockhart tackled Mika but he was too late – Lockhart straightened, Mika’s wand in his hand.

“Well, boys.  This is it.  I take a bit of this skin up to the school, tell them the girl was lost, and that the three of you lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body – say goodbye to your memories, boys!”

“No, you fool…” began Mika but Lockhart had already lifted his wand.

“Obliviate!”

Mika’s wand exploded.  Harry dove out of the way as most of the ceiling gave way and fell in.  After the dust settled, he found himself standing alone looking at a wall of solid rock.

“Damn…  Ron!  Mika!  Are ye okay?”

“Yeah,” said Ron’s muffled voice.  “We’re okay.  But this git’s lost his memory.”

Mika spat, “I tried to tell him.  My wand is specially charmed to only work for me.  Thank my dad for being such a paranoid Auror.”

Harry sighed with relief then peered up at the ceiling.  Huge cracks had formed in it and he had the feeling if he tried to move the rocks by magic, it’d fall in even more.  He frowned for a moment then made the only decision he could.

“Ye wait here.  I’ll go on.  If I’m na back soon…”

There was a pause.

“We’ll try and move some of this rock so you can get back through,” said Mika.

“Harry…” began Ron.

“See yer in a bi’,” said Harry quickly, hurrying off.  He headed on and on until finally the sound of Ron and Mika moving rocks faded away.  Wand high, he continued  on until he came to a wall with two entwined serpents on it, their eyes gleaming emeralds.

Harry stepped forward and hissed, “Open.”

The snakes parted as the wall cracked open, sliding out of sight.  Harry stood there for a moment then entered.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Snape ran down the corridor from which he had heard Lockhart’s scream come from.  Trust the man to scream like a girl…

He skidded to a halt as he spotted two trunks and several boxes of books sitting in the middle of the corridor.  Bending down, he picked up a heavy book lying between his feet.  As he turned it over, Lockhart’s beaming visage winked up at him.  Snape sneered and tossed the book into one of the boxes, which collapsed and scattered more books over the floor.  Rolling his eyes, Snape strode down the hall to the suit of armor at the end.

“You.  Where did that idiot go?”

The suit of armor rattled then raised an arm with a creak.  It pointed down the next corridor.

To where the first attack had happened.

Snape thumped his fist against the helmet and growled out a thank you before striding down the hall.

“Harry, what in Merlin’s name are you doing now?”

Harry entered a long chamber, the unseen ceiling supported by pillars carved with snakes.  He peered into the greenish gloom that permeated the place, trying to see.  Slowly, he moved forward, wand at ready.  As he neared the opposite end of the chamber, he saw a huge, towering statue.  Between its feet lay a still figure in black robes with flaming-red hair.

“Gin!”

Harry ran forward and fell to his knees at her side, setting down his wand so he could pull her up into his lap.  He patted her cheek and said, “Gin?  C’mon, Gin, wake up.”  She was a cold as one of the ghosts to the touch but he could still see her chest rising and falling.  Feebly.

“C’mon, Ginny, m’girl.  Wake up.”

“She won’t wake.”

Harry snapped his head up to narrow his eyes at a tall, black-haired boy leaning casually against a nearby pillar.  He was blurry along the edges but there was no mistaking him –

“Tom Riddle.”

Riddle smiled and bowed mockingly.

“What do ye mean she woan wake?”

“Oh, she’s still alive.  But only just.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and snarled, “What ‘ave ye done ter her?”

Riddle simply smiled at him.

“Yer na a ghost.”

“No.  A memory – preserved in a diary for fifty years.”

Harry glance over at the statue’s feet where the little diary Niamh had found lay.  He looked from it to Ginny then to Riddle as everything snapped together.

“Ginny found i’.  Ginny found yer diary an’ she’s been writing in i’.”

“Oh, how clever you are,” said Riddle.  “Yes, little Ginny found my diary.  It was quite boring to listen to an eleven-year-old girl’s troubles but I did.  I was sympathetic.  Ginny simply loved me.  She poured her soul out to me and I grew stronger.  Strong enough to start feeding some of my soul into her…”

Harry suddenly noticed that Riddle was twirling his wand between his fingers.  Damn, he thought but said, “Ginny did i’.  Opened the Chamber, strangled ‘Agrid’s roosters, everything.  ‘Cause o’ you.”

“Yesssss,” hissed Riddle, snake-like.  “You truly are clever, Harry Potter.  Unfortunately, little Ginny found out what I was doing and tried to dispose of my diary.  But then, your little friend Niamh found it and led me to you, the very person I wanted to meet.”

“You see, Ginny told me all about you.  Your whole fascinating history.  I simply had to meet you.  So I showed you my capture of that oaf Hagrid.”

“Ye framed ‘im.  I thought ye might’ve made a mistake but ye did’n.”

“No, I’m afraid not,” said Riddle.  “Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, suspected Hagrid might be innocent.  He persuaded Dippet to keep him on and train him as gamekeeper.  And, of course, he kept a close eye on me after that.  So I preserved my sixteen-year-old self in a diary, leaving it behind so that one day I would be able to complete Salazar Slytherin’s noble work.”

“Ye ‘aven’t finished i’.  No one’s died.  And soon the Restorative Draught will be ready and they will be righ’ again.”

Riddle laughed, high and coldly.  It didn’t sound right coming from him.  And it sounded oddly familiar to Harry.

“Killing Mudbloods doesn’t matter to me anymore, Harry.  My target over these last few months has been you.”

“Tha’s why ye attacked Hermione and Niamh.  Ye knew I’d find a way to ge’ down ‘ere after that.”

“Yes,” hissed Riddle.  “And I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall just to make sure you would come.  I have many questions for you.”

“Like wha’?”

“Such as, how did you – a street rat with no extraordinary talent – defeat the greatest wizard of all time?  How did you escape with nothing but a scar while Lord Voldemort’s powers were destroyed?”

“Wha’ do ye care?” spat Harry.

“Because,” said Riddle, an odd red gleam in his eyes.  “Voldemort is my past, present, and future.”

Riddle lifted Harry’s wand and traced three shimmering words into the air.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

Then he waved the wand and the letters rearranged themselves.  But Harry already knew what they would read.  A part of him had known what was really in the diary the moment he has seen it.

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

“You see?  I already used the name at Hogwarts – to my most intimate of friends only.  I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself from my mother, could hardly be expected to keep the name of a foul, common Muggle who abandoned me before I even saw light.  No, Harry – I fashioned myself a new name, one wizards everywhere would fear when I became the greatest sorcerer in the world!”

Red hot anger flooded through Harry as he started at the boy who would – and had – become the man who had murdered his mother and the man he had thought was his father.

“Yer na.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Yer na the greatest sorcerer in the world.  Albus Dumbledore is.  Even when ye were strong, ye did’n try ter take Hogwarts.  ‘E frightened ye then an’ ‘e still frightens ye now, wherever ye are hidin’.”

Riddle’s face turned stony and cruel.

“Dumbledore has been driven out of this castle by the memory of me!”

“‘E’s na as gone as ye thin’!” yelled Harry.

Riddle froze.

A crimson bird had appeared at the top of the chamber, singing an unearthly song.  It spiraled down towards Harry, tail gleaming a golden color as it streamed out behind the swan-sized bird.  A ragged bundle was held in its golden talons as it swooped down, dropping the bundle at Harry’s feet before landing on his shoulder.  Harry looked into the intelligent black eyes over the golden beak and felt a shock of recognition.

“That’s a phoenix…” breathed Riddle.

“Fawkes?” breathed Harry.

< Aye, > said the phoenix, turning baleful eyes onto Riddle.

“And that,” spat Riddle, “is the old school Sorting Hat…”  He began to laugh suddenly, the sound echoing throughout the chamber.

“This is what Dumbledore sends his defender!  A songbird and an old hat!  Do you feel brave now, Harry Potter?”

Harry sneered.

“Now, to business.  Twice – in my future, your past – we have met and you have defeated me.  How?  The longer you talk, the longer you stay alive.”

Harry snorted at the threat and snarled, “No one knows why ye lost yer powers.  Na even me.  But ye could’n kill me because me mother – me common Muggle-born mother – died ter save me.  She stopped ye from killin’ me.  An’ yer worse than de’ now.  Yer barely alive.”

Riddle’s face contorted in rage.

“So, your mother died to save you.  There is nothing special about you.  I’ve wondered…  There are strange likenesses between you and I.  Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggle’s.  Probably the only two Parselmouth’s at Hogwarts since Slytherin himself.  And we both are Slytherin.  We even look somewhat alike.  (Harry snorted here)  But…it was truly only chance that saved you from me.  That is all I wanted to know.”

Harry’s blood boiled as he waited for Riddle to do something besides talk.  Already he could see the other boy becoming more solid, more real.  Which meant more life was being taken out of Ginny.

“Now, Harry, let me teach you a little lesson.  We shall match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Albus Dumbledore can give him…”

To Harry’s surprise, Riddle turned and walked away.  When he turned back around and opened his mouth, Harry had a good feeling of what was about to happen next.  He rose from Ginny’s side carefully, keeping his eyes on Riddle.

“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.”

Harry turned to look up at the statue.  High above him, Slytherin’s stone face was moving, its mouth opening wider and wider.

And then something stirred in the black depths.

Harry ran, eyes shut tight.  He felt Fawkes wing brush his cheek as the phoenix took flight.  Harry dove for the floor as something hit the floor of the chamber.  He knew what was happening.

“Kill him,” hissed Riddle.

Harry heard the basilisk begin to slither across the floor towards him.  He scrambled to his feet and ran, blindly, arms stretched out before him.  He could hear the basilisk behind him.

“Ooophf!”

Harry fell, his hands stinging as they hit the ground before his body did.  He sensed something hurtling down at him from above and rolled, eyes still clenched shut.

Suddenly there was the mad hissing of the basilisk coming from his right.  Harry opened his eyes to a bare slit and saw the basilisk high up in the air, its blunt head lunging at the creature that was distracting it.  Gleaming fangs the size of sabers snapped at the phoenix as Fawkes distracted the huge serpent.  As the basilisk turned, he saw that Fawkes golden beak and sharp talons, which were flecked with scarlet blood now, had punctured its huge yellow eyes.

Riddle screamed, “LEAVE THE BIRD!  GET THE BOY!  HE’S BEHIND YOU!  KILL HIM!”

The basilisk spun and Harry rolled out of the way again, sweeping up something soft as he did.  When he finally stopped against a pillar, he scrambled behind it and started at the Sorting Hat for a moment.  A second later he jammed it onto his head and thought, If you have anything that could help me, it would be bloody useful right about now!

No voice answered him and Harry cursed as he sprinted to the other side of the chamber as the basilisk smashed his pillar to ash.

Suddenly the hat contracted and something heavy thumped against Harry’s head.  Harry rolled as the basilisk came at him again, cursing fluently, ripping the Sorting Hat off his head as he went.  He stuffed his hand into it and his fingers touched cold metal.  Grasping it, he pulled a sword from the hat with a flourish.  An emerald-colored cat’s eye stone gleamed up at him from the center of the crossbar as the silver blade gave off a misty sort of green light.  He whirled as the basilisk came at him again.

“KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM!”

The basilisk dove, its aim true despite its blindness.  Harry snarled in pure rage and met the huge head halfway, driving the blade of the sword deep into the serpent’s mouth and up into its brain.  Hot blood spurted over him as he felt one of the basilisk’s razor fangs bite into his arm.

As the basilisk keeled over dead, the fang broke, leaving it buried in Harry’s arm.  He slumped against the wall, vision blurring as the poison took hold.  In one last effort of will, he grabbed the fang and wrenched it out of his arm.  His blurry eyes spotted Riddle’s diary; it was lying just a few feet away.

‘I preserved my sixteen-year-old self in my diary…’

“NO!!” screamed Riddle as he realized what Harry was doing.

Harry met Riddle’s eyes hard, his eyes gleaming as cold and as fierce as the cat’s eye emerald in the swords hilt.  He spat, “Go to hell, ye bloody bastard.”  He dove for the diary as Riddle did, making it there first.  With all the force he had, he drove the basilisk fang deep into the diary.

A long, piercing scream filled the chamber as ink flood out of the book onto Harry’s hand.  Riddle screamed, twisting as his form slowly faded and then was gone.

Harry collapsed onto the floor, his vision going black as the poison spread through his body.  He vaguely sensed something landing besides him and drops of liquid falling onto his arm.  As quickly as the darkness had fallen, it began to lift.  Harry blinked at the now once again visible Chamber then heard the warm, amused voice echo though his head.

< There you are, youngling.  I was afraid I was too late. >

Harry turned his head to look at Fawkes, who was sitting on the floor beside him.  He nodded in thanks to the phoenix than rose shakily to his feet.  Fawkes uttered a quavering note and he steadied.  Smiling at the fiery bird, he staggered over the basilisk and retrieved the sword from its gaping jaws.  He then gathered up his wand and the Sorting Hat, tucking the latter into his belt and the former into its holster.  A sudden moan from the opposite end of the chamber set him whirling around, the sword lifting up then dropping as he saw…

“Gin!”

Ginny blinked at him then began to cry, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, Harry – it was me – I didn’t mean to – Riddle made me – oh God they’re going to expel me…”

Harry rushed to her side and swept her up into a one-armed embrace.  He set down the sword so he could run a hand through her hair then over her tear-streaked face.

“Shhh.  I’ was’n yer fault, Gin.  Riddle controlled ye.  They can’na expel ye fer somethin’ ye had na control over.”

“Is he…?”

“De’?  Yeh.  C’mon now.  Le’s ge’ out o’ here, kay?  Le’s go home?”

“Home?” said Ginny in confusion.

“Hogwarts o’ course!  Anyone tha’ calls this ‘ome is absolutely batty.”

Ginny smiled and laughed softly.

“Definitely.”

Harry smiled down at her and said, “C’mon then.  Up ye get.”

The two of them staggered to their feet.  Harry grabbed the diary and the sword before they stepped over the green coils of the basilisk and out into the corridor.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Ron!  Mika!”

“Harry!”

Mika’s dirt-smeared face appeared in the hole he and Ron had made in the rock wall.  Harry pushed Ginny through first then came in after him in time to see Ron sweep her up into a bear hug.

“Oh, Gin.  I was so worried!  I’ve been such a git this year.”  Ron looked down at his younger sister and pleaded, “Forgive me?”

Ginny looked up at him fro a moment then made a sniffling noise, nodding.  She then flung her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shirt.  Mika turned from them to Harry and his dark eyes widened.

“What happened to you?  And where did you get that sword?”

“Long story,” muttered Harry.  “Where’s Lock’art?”

“Uh, back at the pipe.  Like I said, my da’s a paranoid old Auror, so he charmed my wand to only work for me.  Pity Lockhart didn’t try to hex us.  That would have been much more amusing.”

Harry snorted and nodded in agreement before saying, “Le’s ge’ out o’ ‘ere.”

The four of them set off, led by Fawkes’ faintly glowing wings and the greenish glow from the sword to the pipe.  Lockhart was sitting there on a large piece of stone from a toppled pillar.  He beamed brightly at them as he spotted them.

“Oh, hello there.  Interesting place here.”

Harry looked at Ron, who twirled a finger about his ear with his free hand as his other was wrapped about Ginny’s shoulders.

“Yeh.  Interestin’.”

Mika peered up the long pip and said, “And now the Question of the Day: how are we going to get back up there?”

Harry blinked as something landed on his shoulder.  He turned to look at Fawkes, who was watching him closely and waving his tail feathers.

< Grab hold, > said the phoenix.

“He looks like he wants you to grab a hold.  But you’re much too heavy for him to carry,” said Mika.

“Fawkes is na an ordinary bird,” said Harry.

< Most certainly not, > said the phoenix proudly, dark eyes glittering.  Harry smiled slightly then said, “We’ve go’ ter ‘old on ter each other.  Ginny, you ‘old on ter Ron.  Mika, you ‘old on ter Ginny and Lock’art…”

“That’s you,” said Mika sharply to Lockhart.

“…ye ‘old on ter Mika.”

They situated themselves and Harry tucked the sword into his belt with the hat.  Fawkes launched himself off his shoulder and he grabbed the golden tail feathers tightly.  A moment later they were flying up the pipe.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Ooophf!”

“Get your foot out of my face!”

“My foot?  That’s Lockhart’s foot!”

“Arrgh!”

After much pushing and shoving the five of them separated themselves and saw Myrtle goggling at them.

“Your alive.”

“Yer surprised,” said Harry blandly, brushing one hand back through his long hair and coming up with slime and basilisk blood.

“Bleh,” remarked Mika, taking a step back.

Myrtle gave a little humpf and disappeared into her toilet.  Lockhart stared in wonder.

“Where to now?” asked Ron, his arm tightening about Ginny as she began to cry again.

Harry looked at Fawkes, who had perched at the top of one of the stalls.

< Follow me, > said the phoenix and spread his wings.

And so they did.

The five of them soon found themselves at the staff room.  Harry pushed the door open and was greeted by a surprised scream.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting in chairs, accompanied by McGonagall.  Dumbledore was standing by the window and Snape was pacing back and forth with a strained expression on his face.

“Ginny!”

The Weasley’s swept up their daughter and hugged her.  Harry heard Fawkes whoosh past him and looked at Dumbledore, who was smiling at him.  A moment later he found himself, Ron, and Mika being pulled into a warm hug by Mrs. Weasley.

“You saved her!  Oh, God.  How did you do it?”

“I believe we would all like to know that,” said Snape, eying Harry darkly.  Harry felt a pang of guilt at not telling his father what he had planned to do.

As soon as Mrs. Weasley released him, he sat the Sorting Hat, the sword, and the remains of Riddle’s diary on a nearby table before turning back and beginning to explain, talking slowly so they could catch the words through his accent.

He told them everything.

“So,” said McGonagall, “you broke a hundred school rules finding the entrance.  But the question is, how did you get out of there alive, Potter?”

Harry sighed and told that part again.  Apparently he hadn’t been speaking clearly enough.  But a glance at his father and Dumbledore told him he had been speaking clearly enough.

He then turned to Ginny.  He hadn’t told her part in the story.

She looked up at him, brown eyes glittering with tears.  They stared at each other for a moment before she nodded and spoke.  When she was done, Mrs. Weasley hugged her tightly while Mr. Weasley began to berate her.

“Ginny!  What have I always told you?  Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain!”

“I d-didn’t know!  I found it inside one of my books.  I thought someone had just left it there…”

“Perhaps Miss Weasley should go up to the Hospital Wing after this terrible ordeal.  There will be no punishment.  Older and more wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.”

“Bed rest and a mug of hot chocolate, perhaps.  You’ll find Madam Pomfrey still awake.  She’s been giving out the Restorative Draught to the basilisk’s victims…”

“So, Hermione and Niamh are alright?” said Ron hopefully.

Dumbledore nodded and Harry grinned at his father.  He knew who was responsible for it.  Snape smiled slightly in return, his eyes glittering darkly.  Harry could tell he was going to be in trouble when they were alone.

The Weasley’s left and McGonagall soon after them.  Snape stayed, leaning back against the wall.  Dumbledore then turned to the three boys.

“I seem to remember telling the two of you and Miss O’Feir that I would have to expel you if you broke anymore school rules.”

Ron gulped.

“Which shows sometimes we must eat our words.  All three of you will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and – ah! – a hundred points each.”

The three boys grinned.

“Now, one of us has been awfully quiet during all this.  Nothing to say, Gilderoy?”

Lockhart blinked and stared about the room, looking for who Dumbledore was talking to.

“Er, professor,” said Mika.  “There was an accident down in the Chamber.  My wand…”

“Ah.  Yes, I believe your father told me about that charm he placed on your wand, Mr. Davids.  Such a sad thing Gilderoy attempted to use it…”

Ron snickered and leaned over to Harry to mutter, “Not bloody likely…”

“Is that me?” asked Lockhart.

Dumbledore smiled slightly and said, “Yes.  Mr. Weasley, Mr. Davids – would you mind escorting Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary?  I would like to have a few words with Mr. Potter…”

“Professor?” said Lockhart.  “I expect I was hopeless…”

“You have no idea,” muttered Mika as he and Ron dragged Lockhart out.  As soon as the door closed behind them, Snape strode across the room and grabbed Harry’s shoulders, his stony countenance collapsing and showing the worry that he was really feeling.

“What in Merlin’s name were you thinking?  You could have been killed!”

“I know,” said Harry softly, looking down at the floor.  “I should ‘ave told ye.”

Snape sighed and smiled.

“No, you shouldn’t have.  You inherited my habit of making snap decisions and going on with them without thought.  Had you told me, I wouldn’t expect you to really be my son.”

Harry looked up and grinned.

The two of them jumped with Dumbledore coughed.

“I should have a camera.”

Severus rolled his eyes and growled, “Oh, bugger off, Albus.”

Harry coughed in surprise at that while Dumbledore simply smiled.  He then turned to Harry.

“I want to thank you, Harry.  You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber.  Only that would have called Fawkes to you.”

< Then again, > said the phoenix.  < I could have simply been told what was going on by the silly little raven your Dark Knight there gave to the youngling and decided to lend a wing. >

“Jar didn’t know.”

< You think our kind have no more power than thought-speak? >

Harry blinked, realizing what Fawkes was implying.

“‘E read me mind.”

< Somewhat.  He sensed your thoughts first most likely, then read your mind.  And then he came to me to see if I knew a way to help. >  Fawkes parted his golden beak in a smile and added, < Which I did. >

“And which we are all very grateful for,” said Severus.

“Indeed,” agreed Dumbledore.

“Now,” continued Dumbledore.  “I expect you wish to go see Miss Granger’s and O’Feir, as I am certain they are awaken by now.”

Harry nodded vigorously then asked, “Sir?  ‘Ow did I pull tha’ sword out o’ the hat?”

“Take a look.”

Harry stepped towards the bloodstained sword, which had stopped giving off its misty green light.  As soon as he touched the hilt to pick it up, the light return and the cat’s eye in the hilt gleamed with an inner fire.  He tilted the sword and saw words carved into the blade along the center.  As far as he could tell they were Elven, but he could only read two words of them.  And those were: my gift to my husband, Tirades Snape.  May this keep him alive through battle and bring him back to me each time.

Severus peered over his shoulder, eyes widening as he saw the writing.

“Elven.  Gods…”

Dumbledore watched the two of them for a moment then said, “I believe that was Malayne Ardwith’s gift to her new husband.”

Severus’ jaw dropped.

“Gods…  I can’t believe…  How?”

“That,” said Dumbledore, “is not a question I can answer.  But if I am correct, that sword comes to those who share the blood of its first owner when they call for it.  Which Harry most likely did…”

Harry nodded, still staring at the sword.

“Now, if you two will excuse me, I have to write to Azkaban – we need our gamekeeper back, I believe.  And I must draft an advertisement for the Prophet…  We need another Defense teacher…  We simply run through them, do we not?”

Harry and Severus nodded, turning to leave, placing the sword back on the table.

“Severus, perhaps you should take the sword?  It is yours, after all.”

Severus froze, turning to stare at Dumbledore.  He then walked over and picked up the sword, which burst into an ardent blaze of green fire.  Staring at the sword for a moment, he nodded to Dumbledore then left, pushing Harry in front of him.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“What’re ye goin’ ter do with i’?” asked Harry as they walked down to the infirmary from the staff room.

“I haven’t the slightest.  I still can’t believe that you found this in the hat.”

“Well, I di’ an’ now its ours.”

“Ours?”

“Well, we’re both Snape’s are we na?” asked Harry, looking defiantly up at his father.

Severus smiled down at his son his response.

“Yes, I suppose we are.”

“And ye doubted this when?”

“Hmmm – until just now.”

“Yer hilarious.”

“I know,” said Severus.

“Oh, bugger off, ye daft fool.”

“Who are you calling a daft fool?  Might I remind you that you’ll be living with this ‘daft fool’ over the summer?”

Harry looked up in surprise.

“Really?”

“Well where else would you stay?  As if I’m going to let you go back to those Muggle’s who aren’t worthy of having any relation to your mother.”

Harry beamed and hugged his father tightly.  Severus staggered slightly then smiled, returning the hug.

“Your welcome.”

They separated and Severus brushed at the trail of slime and blood Harry had left on his robes.

“Whoops…”

“Ah, its nothing.”  Severus smiled and said, “You go see Niamh and Hermione.  I know you want to.  We have all summer together.”

Harry grinned and dashed off, leaving Severus to walk alone back down to the dungeons.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry!  There you are, mate.  Madam Pomfrey says Mione and Ni should be waking up anytime now!”

Harry bounded into the infirmary and stood quivering next to Ron and Mika, looking between Hermione and Niamh.  Suddenly Hermione groaned and opened her eyes, followed by Niamh a moment later.

“Hermione!”

“Niamh!”

Ron rushed to Hermione’s side while Mika and Harry went to Niamh’s.

Hermione blinked and quickly said, “Ron, it’s a basilisk!  That’s why Harry heard that voice!”

“Yeah, we know.”

“What?  You know?  How?  And why are you covered in slime?”

“Looong story….”

Niamh sat up quickly and grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt, her blue eyes blazing.

“Alright you.  Tell the me truth.”

Harry blinked, surprised.

“About wha’?”

“About Sna…”

Harry’s eyes went wide and he clamped a hand over Niamh’s mouth, causing Mika to stare at him.  He hissed in her ear, “Shhh!  No one else knows!  An’ they can’na!”

“Why?” hissed Niamh.

“I’ll tell ye later.”

“What about them?” asked Niamh, nodding her head towards Ron, Hermione, and Mika; adding Ginny in a moment later.

“I doan know…”

“Harry!”

“Ni, what’ll they think o’ me?” asked Harry.

“Mika and Hermione won’t care!”

“Wha’ about Ron?  ‘E ‘ates ‘im.  Ye know tha’.”

Niamh sighed and said, “I don’t know what to tell you, Harry.  But you have to tell them.  I don’t think they’d enjoy finding out like I did.”

Harry nodded.

“Alrigh’.  Can ye le’ me go now?”

“Oh.  Sorry.”

“What was that about?” asked Mika.

“Nothing,” replied Niamh and Harry casually.  Mika eyed them suspiciously but they met his eyes coolly.  It would not be until some time later that he would find out what they had been talking about.

The next day everyone was excused from classes in celebration.  Harry had his hand wringed several times by other students who kept apologizing for suspecting him and thanking him for solving everything.  He had calmly told them that Mika and Ron had helped as well, setting the well-wishers onto them.  Also, that morning he received a severe berating from Jardin.

< Going down there without telling anyone…  What if I hadn’t found out what you were doing and told the old phoenix!  Hmm?  What then? >

Harry rolled his eyes and stroked the raven’s forehead, which was exactly the spot that Jardin loved to be stroked.

< Ooooh…  You’re forgiven… >

Harry chuckled and said, I thought you’d say that.

He also got a great surprise that morning.  As he was walking through the entrance hall with Jardin perched on his shoulder, the doors banged open and Lucius Malfoy stalked in.  His gray eyes fell on Harry and he sneered.

“You.”

< Oh crap, > muttered Jardin.

“This is a surprise, Lucius.”

Harry, Jardin, and Malfoy all turned to see Dumbledore coming out of a doorway Harry hadn’t noticed being there before, followed by Snape.

Lucius sneered again.

“What are you doing back here?  The governors suspended you!”

“It seems that the other eleven governors heard that Arthur Weasley’s daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once.  Seemed to think I was the best man for the job.  They also told me something very strange.  Several of them seemed to think you threatened to curse their families did they not suspend me in the first place.”

Malfoy paled.

< Harry. >

Harry looked and saw Dobby cowering behind Malfoy.  He and Jardin exchanged a glance.

“So,” said Malfoy.  “You’ve stopped the attacks.  Did you catch the culprit as well?”

“We have.”

“And who was it this time?”

“The same person it was last time, Lucius.  Lord Voldemort was acting through someone this time.  Through this diary.”

Dumbledore held up the diary, the hole bored through its center plainly visible.  Harry watched as Dobby pointed at the book then to Malfoy before whacking himself over the head with his fists.

“I see…” said Malfoy.

“A clever plan.”  Snape spoke up now.  “Had Mr. Potter and his friends Mr. Weasley and Mr. Davids not discovered that book – young Miss Weasley would have taken the blame.  Imagine the effect if Arthur Weasley’s daughter was attacking Muggle-borns…”

Malfoy glared at Snape and still Dobby kept pointing.  Harry and Jardin looked at each other then to the diary, sharing a short conversation before smirking mentally.

“Doan ye woan to know ‘ow Ginny got that diary, Mr. Malfoy?” asked Harry innocently.

“How should I know where the girl got hold of it?”

“Because ye gave i’ to her.  In Flourish and Blotts.  Ye picked up her Transfiguration book an’ slipped i’ in.”

“Prove it,” hissed Malfoy, hands clenched.  Jardin laughed in Harry, Snape, and Dumbledore’s head.  Snape couldn’t help but smirk slightly.

“Ah, no one will be able to do that, Lucius,” said Dumbledore, amusement tingeing his voice.  “Not now that Riddle has vanished from it, that it.  Though I would advise you, Lucius, not to give out anymore of Voldemort’s old school things.”

Malfoy’s jaw clenched and he spun, calling out, “Come, Dobby!”  Dobby scurried along behind him, earning a kick.  Anger flashed in Harry’s eyes and he turned to Dumbledore.  He had a plan.

“Sir?  May I return tha’ diary ter Mr. Malfoy?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he handed over the small book.

“Of course, Harry.”

Snape looked in confusion between the two of them as Harry ran out onto the grounds after Malfoy, pulling off his shoe as he went.

A few moments later…

“You lost me my servant, boy!”

There was a loud bang and Dobby cried out, “You shall not hurt, Harry Potter!”

A few moments later Harry bounded back in, grinning foolishly.  On his shoulder Jardin was flapping his wings and cawing, pale eyes glittering with mirth.

“What on earth did you do?” asked Severus.

Harry’s grin widened as he said, “I returned the diary.”

Severus’ eyes flicked down to the sock just sticking out of his son’s pocket.

“And you released the house-elf at the same time.  Sneaky devil!”

Harry simply grinned.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

The rest of the term continued without incident.  The Weasley’s had wanted to resort Ginny, but she had refused, insisting she was quite fine in Slytherin.  She had friends in there and was quite happy.  Her unsaid words were that if she were in Gryffindor, her brother’s would overshadow her.  In Slytherin she could be herself.

Exams had been canceled, which had sent Hermione into hysterics for two weeks, while everyone else was celebrating.  Defense classes were also canceled (“Didn’t learn anything in there anyway,” remarked Niamh) as the teacher was incapacitated (Ron said, “And that bloke was starting to grow on me,” which set Niamh to snickering).

Slytherin also won the House Cup again while Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup.

And what Harry found best about all of this was that he not only was going to spend his summer at the castle with his father, but Draco was subdued and sulky for the remainder of the term.

Just before the train set off with Niamh, Mika, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, they all said goodbye to Harry, each asking him why he was staying at the school.  Except for Niamh, who already knew.  His reply was simply that he had told Dumbledore about the Dursley’s and the headmaster was allowing him to stay with one of the professors (he didn’t say who).  Before they left, Niamh grabbed his arm.

“When are you going to tell them, Harry?”

Harry sighed and looked down at his friend.

“I doan know, Ni.  Maybe over summer.  Ron’s invited me ter the Burrow two weeks ‘fore we come ba’.”

“I know.  He invited all of us.  Will you tell them then?”

“If it’ll stop ye pesterin’ me about i’.”

Niamh smiled and said, “It will.”

“Gods, yer annoyin’.”

“Its one of my many wonderful traits.”

Harry snorted and grinned.

“See yer, Ni.”

“Bye, Harry.  Write to me, won’t you?  Tell me how things are with – y’know…”

“I will.”

Niamh smiled and hugged Harry before jumping onto the train.  Harry watched the train go, waving at his friends faces in the window of their car until the train vanished into the distance.  A hand suddenly fell onto his shoulder and he looked up at his father, who was smiling gently.

“Saying goodbye?”

“Yeh.”

“Ready to go?”

Harry blinked.

“Go where?”

“If I don’t recall, you told me about a week ago that you wanted to play a game of Quidditch against me…”

“Ye will?”

Severus laughed.  “I have to have something to do this summer besides sit in my rooms.  Let’s go.”

Harry grinned and nodded.  The two of them turned from the empty train station and began to walk up towards the castle, arms around each other.

It looked to be a good summer.