Albus had marched through the storm, magical aura bristling with rage, intending to banish the dementors from Hogwart's grounds completely – let them patrol the forest and outskirts and leave the school alone! Only he found that Hazelette had found out about the attack and was taking it badly.

She roared and flamed, chasing the frantic dark cloaks away – a few with their cloaks smoking. Many of the children had stayed in the stands, watching, when the dragon had appeared. They were awestruck by her fury.

Some of the more empathic students – or one's with training in mind magics could hear her shouts, she was broadcasting so loudly.

"How dare you attack a child? You are supposed to protect them – not attack!" Hazelette roared, flaming at a dementor that was flying too slowly. "I'll teach you to assault someone I'm protecting!"

The dementors fled … unwilling to even attempt to circumvent the dragon. Only seven dementors had snuck to the Quidditch pitch and they were no match for her. One dementor was too slow – perhaps reluctant to leave the feast and he was enveloped in a fireball – falling to the ground in ashes.

The students gasped, not sure whether to be thrilled or terrified. A few felt the urge to applaud – but the remaining teachers looked too grim.

The very late in arriving Aurors who were meant to control the dementors gathered around the pile of ash in dismay … they glanced at the furious Headmaster and decided not to complain, So, instead, the nervous Aurors scurried back to recast the wards that should have controlled the dementors in the first place.

Albus gave it up as a bad job. Hazelette had done his work for him, so he would have to look elsewhere to vent his frustration. He marched to the castle, trailed by the remaining students like they were a long row of ducklings following a brightly colored mama duck.

The ducklings were abandoned at the infirmary door – firmly shooed away by Professor McGonagall. Poppy had summoned the Healer Randall, who had wondered when he would next see his most interesting patient. Albus wandered into the infirmary and was dismayed at the quiet urgency. He would have welcomed shouting from parents or pained complaints from patients … it would have meant that everything was fixable.

Three more healers come through the floo, carrying boxes and bags. The sight of one made his heart sink – Healer D'Este only dealt with severe head and brain injury. The man hastened to the beds and Albus relaxed when it was Draco's bed he went to – and then felt a bit ashamed that he'd been so relieved it was not Harry.

Healer Randall hastily patched the internal injuries and let one of the newly arrived junior healers deal with the breakage. Harry started to rouse, groaning and fighting the restraining spells.

Severus quickly knelt at Harry's head, gently holding it on either side and bent low so he was speaking softly into Harry's right ear. He murmured reassurances and gentle calming spells, and Harry slowly relaxed, blinking uncertainly at the ceiling.

"Harry, can you hear me?" Severus asked in a hushed whisper.

Harry blinked, trying to clear the fog that was misting through his mind, making it difficult to answer. "Yeah, kinda." He finally forced out, wanting to reassure his obviously agitated father. It would have worked better if his voice wasn't so hoarse or slurred.

Healer Randall finished healing the severe internal injuries on Harry and the assistant fixed the last break – except for one. "The right lower leg bones are completely shattered – we need to vanish the pieces and regrow them."

Healer Randall frowned and waved a diagnostic charm while Severus continued to whisper reassurances to Harry, urging patience.

The Healer sighed. "He needs blood replenishers and healing potions at regular intervals for the next 48 hours. His magic has already been drained quite a bit keeping him alive for us to heal ...he needs all the magic he possesses for the potions to work with. We'll vanish the bone splinters and splint the leg – but regrowing the bones will have to wait for a few days."

The Healer eyed Snape, watching relief that everything could be fixed – likely in time for Christmas, and the usual parental anger that he'd been so very worried. Severus quickly ran and fetched the potions Harry needed and sat beside in one of the not very comfortable chairs. Harry was still groggy while he downed the potions and Severus smoothed down the blanket over Harry after the leg was splinted, as if that would smooth away all the bruises still littering the boy's body.

Harry quickly dozed off after the potions, and Severus turned his full attention to Draco and Lucius. He had not been unaware of what had been happening on the next bed. Healer D'Este had started chanting a sing-song spell while gently cupping Draco's head in his hands. Poppy and the other Healer had worked quickly to heal the other injuries. The worst one, though was on the left side of Draco's head.

"His head was struck by the metal footrest on the broom – it made that long indentation." Poppy whispered.

Albus had come closer to stand beside Lucius and a distraught Dudley, who was clutching a long-suffering Seti in his arms. Albus quickly called for Fawkes. Albus' knowledge healing was limited – picked up by watching Poppy work on endless lines of injured or sick students. He waved an arm at Draco and asked Fawkes if he could help.

Fawkes hopped onto the bed and edged closer to Draco's head, eyeing the boy's wound carefully. He came close enough to cry a few tears onto the wound while Poppy carefully chanted a spell to shift the broken skull bone back into position and mend it properly. A few more tears dropped onto the boy's forehead and then Fawkes flew back up to Albus' shoulder. Lucius nodded his thanks to Albus and Fawkes, too intent on Draco to do more than that.

Healer D'Este finally stopped chanting and slowly eased his hands away from Draco. "Well, I do thank you Poppy, and Fawkes as well for your assistance – it came at just the right time. I've stopped the bleeding and swelling and cleared away the blood and excess fluids from his brain. With the wound healed we are doing quite well."

"When will he wake?" Lucius asked anxiously.

"Before morning we hope ... I'll be back to check in things. Call me if there is any change." The Healer and Poppy exchanged looks – they had both expected Draco to wake immediately – even if he had been confused or groggy. Poppy managed to get a few blood replenishers and healing potions into him with a swallowing charm.

Seti squirmed out of Dudley's arms in disgust. Apparently these wizards had no idea of how to call Draco back. He leaped up next to Draco and called to him in imperious cat tones. The cry he made was not angry or any of the mau cat's usually meows. It was one that a mother cat would use to call her kittens – or a cat summoning its littermates. The Healers and Dudley reached out to pluck the cat away from Draco but Lucius stopped them anxiously.

"No … let him be." Lucius said, watching the cat intently as it continued to call to the boy, eyes fixed on Draco's face. Lucius had had a few employees scouring wizarding bookshops for books on Mau cats. He'd called in a few favors as well, borrowing books from wizards that owed him. He'd felt there was little use in Dudley having a powerful familiar if they had no idea of its abilities.

A Mau cat had great ability to 'find' things, perhaps even a patient lost in their own mind. Though it would usually only demonstrated this ability in great extremity – and usually only on the wizard they had bonded with. Seti must have been greatly disturbed by the possibility of Dudley losing Draco to be interfering this way.

"He's calling to Draco – I can hear him a bit … Draco is far away it seems." Dudley said, looking worried. Lucius gripped Dudley's shoulder to comfort him, as well as draw comfort, himself.

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Draco swam through the darkness – it felt like he was underwater and he could not see where the surface was, though he could hear someone calling his name incessantly in an aggravated tone.

"Draco … Draco … you must come back. Dudley is worried and so is Lucius … if they call Petunia she is likely to weep … I can't stand weepy females – you must come back." the voice said.

"Where? – I can't see the surface of the water." Draco answered in panic. He knew, somehow that the voice was Seti's, but this knowledge wasn't comforting – how could he hear the cat?

The voice seemed to consider Draco's objection. "Just follow my voice – will yourself to come to it."

Draco followed the mad sounding advice and eventually could see glimmering light and clawed his way toward it, and found himself blinking and staring into the eyes of Dudley's Mau cat.

Seti stopped calling and turned away from the now groggily awake boy and with an imperious sounding meow demanded to be picked up by the stunned Dudley.

Lucius nearly wept in relief and gave a slight bow to Seti, who returned this with a stare that meant he meant to cash in on the debt … likely by demanding caviar.

Healer D'Este watched all this with astonishment. He'd heard that Mau cats were quite magical – even more so than kneazles in some ways – but he hadn't heard they could do this. He said his goodbyes, though only Poppy noticed them and went to the floo with the junior Healers and Healer Randall. He had research to do before he returned in the morning.

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Gilderoy Lockhart had been ecstatic at the release of the book "The Deadly Chamber of Secrets" during December – just in time to be used as Christmas presents. It was also released in France, Spain and Italy and there were plans to get it translated into other languages as well. It was at the top of the bestsellers list within a week – edging out Lugo Bagman's short biography detailing his Quidditch career. Gilderoy was sure that it had only sold so well because of the very appealing picture of the wizard on the front and the complimentary poster that came with the book.

There had been a bit of wrangling over the cover for this book. Gilderoy had expected a picture of himself to be on the front. The publishers wanted Tom and Harry … and Lockhart, if he insisted. Severus, luckily for Lockhart and sent a letter 'declining the honor of having either of his sons on the cover of the book' back to the publishers. They had finally settled on a picture of the chamber of secrets – the pathway leading to the pool of water with the head of Salazar on the other side. The picture was dimly lit and looked 'deadly' enough. Gilderoy was superimposed, to one side of the picture.

Gilderoy had remembered the fierce look the horcrux had shown him in the mirror once. He spent a week perfecting it and the results had been a determined looking Lockhart with almost fierce eyes, arms crossed over his chest with his wand at the ready. His robes had a rather military cut to them and Gilderoy thought he looked ready for anything.

The publishers had been impressed and decided he looked the part of a hero … and since they couldn't get Tom or Harry … well, he was what was available, and the women did like him.

Several werewolves traveled with Lockhart, so he would have an excuse to tout the book he was still writing about his stay at the werewolf village. The single warehouse-turned apartments had grown into a respectable village that was even bigger than Hogsmeade.

The Wizengamot was slowly loosening the choke-collar that had been strangling the werewolves with and life was becoming quite good – at least in comparison to the recent past. Dex was amenable to touring with Lockhart – anything to promote the idea that werewolves were not dangerous to live around if full moon precautions were taken.

Lockhart was currently at Hogsmeade at a book signing, surrounded by eagerly panting witches. He was quite blissful … even if a few of the witches were also eyeing the rather fit and handsome werewolf leader Dex.

The book-signing was just winding down when a wizard ran in waving a newspaper - "Harry Potter was attacked by dementors … at least a dozen Healers were sent to Hogwarts to piece him back together … the Malfoy Heir is near death." The wizard finally ran out of breath, and the shoppers scattered like startled pigeons to find their own copy of the Prophet.

One cloaked figure tossed the galleons for Lockhart's book onto the counter, with the cashier barely nodding at him. He got the paper the same way at the kiosk out by the street and apparated to the edge of the Dark Forest.

Sirius hesitated; longing to run up to Hogwarts to see his godson … to make sure that the last remnant of James wasn't dead. He hesitated for long moments and finally went to the cave near the centaur's area and ducked into his new hideout. It was not very roomy – but that made it easier to keep warmed.

Sirius read the Prophet eagerly, hoping it would give better details. The article on the front page was rather lurid, but did direct him to the press release on the second page from Minister Fudge. The minister had told the whole tale the evening before, at a press conference, and insisted that Harry Potter had been treated and would fully recover in a few days.

The fact that the injuries would take so long to be healed meant that the damage had been serious. However … Harry was going to be okay. Sirius picked up the book with a lighter heart, ready to read about Harry's adventure, now. Just like his dad, Sirius thought – always up for an escapade.

It took the rest of the day and well into the night for him to read the book through. The description of the Chamber intrigued him. There was an addendum to the book, describing the entrance to the Chamber, the labyrinth, and the Chamber itself. There was a description of the craggy opening to the sky, and an explanation that the basilisk had been meant to protect the school from invasion from the outside – from any intruder that might try to enter through the crevices.

Sirius paced the remainder of the night, forcing his easily scattered thoughts to focus on the plan he'd thought of, only napping briefly just before dawn. He was pretty sure he knew where the entrance through the crevices was … and it was no longer guarded.

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Voldemort glided through the town, he'd finally found the location of the Crouch residence. He slid closer and examined the extensive and very heavy warding closely. Crouch was quite serious about keeping people out.

Voldemort looked at the wards carefully, committing them to memory. Aah … Crouch Sr. was also trying hard to keep something – or someone inside, according to the warding.

He made his way back to the Riddle Manor planning on how to take down the wards – or at least move past them. He hoped that there was something of use inside – perhaps Barty Jr. was there, though it was hard to believe the stone-hearted Barty Sr. had actually rescued his Death Eater son.

Still, even if Barty Jr. was not there, he could wait at the house – Barty Sr. was supposed to be there over the holidays, and Voldemort could make use of the older Crouch's magic and even, perhaps, his body.

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Tom slumped into the chair beside Harry's bed. It was almost dawn, the day after the dementor attack. It had taken hours for Tom to calm Hazelette. She had chased down and incinerated two more dementors before being satisfied that they would think twice before crossing her again.

Then the Minister had arrived and had needed to be both placated and made to understand that the numbers of dementors would be cut in half by either the ministry or they would have Hazelette do it for them in the manner that dragons preferred.

Fudge had agreed – but insisted that if there were fewer dementors, they would have to accept more Aurors on the grounds. Dumbledore had countered by agreeing to have more Aurors if they were trainees from the academy. Albus figured that the trainees would be easier to control if there were any confrontations – they would be more in awe of Albus and the teachers than hardened Aurors.

Tom had overseen Hazelette while the slightly decimated number of dementors had been cut down to a mere twenty five and the rest had been taken away, while Hazelette had roared abuse at their retreating backs.

Tom and Percy had then had to roam the hallways – sending over a dozen students back to bed who were trying to either get into the infirmary to see Harry and Draco, or trying to sneak out to see Hazelette. Professor Lupin joined them at one point, saying that he wanted to check on the secret passages' alarms and traps before the holiday started.

At last the castle was quiet and Tom had settled in to watch his sleeping brother. Severus was also in a chair beside bed, though he was dozing quietly. Tom was thankful that Quidditch was always on a Saturday and that the students would be leaving on Tuesday for the holiday.

A few students were staying over, but it would be much less chaotic while the Auror trainees were installed in the castle. They had agreed to ten, feeling that it should be enough to keep Black at bay … though he had managed to sneak in and had eluded capture so far.

"If he continues to try to get in, or stays in the area his luck will eventually run out." Yvane snapped angrily. "It is just a matter of time."

Tom caught a few short hours of sleep before Harry awakened, groaning at the sore muscles and the angrily protesting leg that was missing its tibia and fibula. The splint helped, but was not nearly enough. Severus woke immediately and potions were presented for Harry to choke down.

Draco woke soon after, and Lucius was jostled awake by Dudley since Healer D'Este was flooing in at that moment as well. Poppy came out at the sound of the floo and waved a diagnostic charm over Harry, and looked relieved, declaring that he was healing nicely.

"We should be able to give you the skelegrow later tonight, if you continue to regain your magic this fast." Poppy said and then added, "We do have to be careful with someone so delicate."

This caused Harry to flush a bit angrily and Tom forestalled an angry outburst of denial by shaking his head and whispering "Christmas …" to him. Harry hesitated … Tom was right an extremely rude retort would find him with nothing but coal in the stocking. Well, with his injury he'd likely get presents – but there would be detentions waiting for him on his return to school.

Healer D'Este went straight to Draco, regarding at him meticulously. "I need to have a close look at the injury … with your permission?" At Lucius and Draco's nods he lay careful hands on either side of Draco's head, and closed his eyes, letting his magic drift into his patient's mind. He looked for both physical destruction and magical damage.

He examined one area very closely; he'd noticed it the day before and had been puzzled by it. He'd spent several hours researching both it and the phenomenon that the Mau cat had demonstrated. It was too bad that Mau cats – or cats of any sort were difficult to use in healing even when they were the Healer's familiar. They seemed to have their own reasons for helping – or not and there was little a wizard could do to persuade them.

The Healer pulled back and looked around a bit uncertainly, and finally focused on Lucius. "There is a small area that has been affected. It isn't damage, you see. It is an area that has been … opened, so to speak. We see it at times with this sort of injury – it can force a magical ability out into the open – an ability that might not have manifested itself for years – or perhaps might never have revealed itself at all. The problem being, of course that it is forced into full power all at once, with his magic never having had time to place any control on it."

Draco felt alarmed, he hadn't known this could happen and it didn't sound good. Lucius grimaced – he'd heard of these occurrences, but had never met anyone it had happened to. "Do you know what ability it is?"

The Healer shook his head. "I can just see that it has been …released, that is all."

Lucius sighed and nodded in response. "We'll just have to keep an eye out, then." He managed a smile for his obviously alarmed son. "Not to worry, we'll have it identified by the end of the holiday. Once we know what it is, we can help you control it."

Draco nodded hesitantly. Well at least his father had a plan. He glanced over at Severus and Harry. His godfather nodded at him confidently and Harry grinned with a thumbs up sign, so they must think all would be well. He looked at Dudley, who was giving Seti a good head rub.

"Well, we can always have Seti go in and have a look around, if you'd prefer that." Dudley said pragmatically, smothering his grin. Draco shook his head emphatically, looking a tad horrified. No, it had been really weird to hear Seti inside his head that way.

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Hermione scrubbed at the stone floors and walls in the guest quarters. The areas had been renovated extensively with the basilisk money – some had been uninhabitable for a few centuries for various reasons. The ministry – and the Headmaster wanted them to house the visiting schools next year – they were quite sure they would be chosen as the host school. In the meantime they needed to be cleaned after the renovators left – they always left a mess after fixing things.

Some of the rooms would likely house the Auror trainees while they were here, and Hermione, Blaise and Neville were the main house elves for this.

Blaise whined non-stop that this was servant work – house-elf work and would give Hermione a superior look, amused at her clenched jaw at his remarks about house-elves.

Neville grumbled at times, but mostly he seethed with fury. He was determined that Draco and Harry would pay for his this humiliation. His grandmother's tirade had cut him deeply, but he'd been unable to make himself blame his grandmother for it. She was the only family he had left, and he couldn't bring himself to push her away – then he would have no one. All the rage he'd felt he transferred onto Draco and Harry – it was their fault he was in this fix, and had his grandmother treating him that way. Now, with their injuries the pair of 'little princes' would be even more pampered. He sneered – some people would go to any lengths to get newer brooms.

He glanced at Hermione at times, he missed having her around at times – she'd not been a fan of Harry Potter for quite a while, and with the whole house-elf thing he'd thought she would stay that way … and continue hating the Malfoys for that matter. Now she just looked thoughtful when the name Potter or Malfoy was mentioned.

Hermione spent the detentions thinking about the wizarding customs and rituals books she'd been reading. The ones the Headmaster had suggested had been quite enlightening. Madame Pince had been quite helpful in finding others that would help her understand the wizarding world. She'd only made it through four books so far, and they had only really pointed out how much she needed to learn.

She'd gone to Flitwick and received permission to take some books home with her over the holiday. Some of the books that Hermione had felt held the best information she had taken to Percy and had asked him to copy them. He'd frowned at first and she had needed to explain that she realized she misunderstood a great deal and wanted to correct that.

Hermione knew that Percy was close friends with Tom Riddle and had been as annoyed with her as the Malfoys had been. Still he had copied the books that would allow it, for her to keep and she had thanked him politely. There were rumors that a wizarding customs class was going to be added to the curriculum. She hoped that the rumors were right.

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Sunday afternoon – the day after the Quidditch match – Harry and Draco's friends were allowed to visit. It was a mixed bag from all houses and varying ages. Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint walked in – each carrying a bundle and both wore looks of mourning on their faces. The twins even walked behind them humming a funeral dirge.

Marcus interrupted the greetings by saying that , although Cedric had caught the snitch, Slytherin had been far enough ahead in goals, that the match had ended in a tie. Cedric was there with the twins, making warning signs with his hands and pointing at the twin's gift of 'holiday cookies from their mum'. Draco and Harry vowed to avoid the cookies at all costs – or give them to 'people they really liked'.

Marcus held the bundle out to Harry and said gruffly. "Your broom flew straight into the whomping willow after you fell off …" The bundle fell open in Harry's arms, revealing a small pile of pieces of wood that used to be a Shooting Star 7. Oliver dropped a similar bundle on Draco – his broom was not in as many pieces, but it was clearly beyond repair.

Draco and Harry yelped unhappily, but it was Marcus that looked ready to cry. Both his fellow chasers in the infirmary – and their awesome brooms in pieces. It was like Christmas had been cancelled. Oliver patted his shoulder in sympathy.

Severus watched from the doorway – he'd gone to his quarters for a shower and fresh clothing. The boys had already started talking about Quidditch again. He'd initially wanted to shout that Harry would be resigning from the team … but he knew that doing so would be the worst sort of over-reacting. Not that trying to protect Harry from a dangerous sport was necessarily wrong, Severus felt – but Harry loved Quidditch and they already had to curtail so many of his activities …

Severus leaned over and whispered to Tom, who smiled and left. Severus retreated to the Great Hall – a large number of students gathered there for homework, games and to gossip. Severus going there would be seen as a confirmation that Harry would be okay. Plus, the Auror trainees would be arriving soon and he wanted to see who Scrimgeour was sending.

Z~Z~Z~Z~Z~Z~Z~Z

Tom flooed to DiagonAlley and almost ran to the Quidditch store. He went to the counter and asked for a complete catalog of the 'higher end Quidditch brooms' for Harry and Draco.

"Harry Potter?" The salesman asked eagerly. He now recognized Tom as the young man that was frequently in the newspapers with Harry Potter.

Tom smiled happily. They needed to disperse the information that Harry was just fine in spite of the drift of hysterical headlines in the Prophet. The newspapers had been remarkably accurate after Fudge's threats to form an office in the ministry to 'oversee newspapers, radio, etc. for accuracy'.

They couldn't blame the papers for going a bit overboard with the dementor attack and Quidditch disaster – after all, most of the story was fact. The occupants of the store were obviously listening in with avid expressions – whatever he said would spread like lightning.

"Yes, Harry and Draco will need new brooms after the crash they had. Severus thought they could look over the catalog while they're healing up … Harry has to take skelegrow tonight and Severus hopes this will take his mind off it." Tom couldn't hear a collective 'aaaaawww' from the other occupants of the store.

"So they are going to be alright then?" The salesman asked hesitantly.

"Oh, yes … the healers said they would be up and around in a couple more days." Tom said with a sincere smile. The salesman smiled in return and handed Tom two catalogs. Tom returned to the infirmary and delivered the catalogs to the two boys just as the Poppy and Severus entered with the Skelegrow.

"One more night – and I should be able to let the two of you out." Poppy said briskly.

Draco grimaced – they just wanted him there to watch him for signs of 'the new ability'. Harry pouted a bit. Skelegrow was a really foul tasting potion. They both reached for the catalogs. Harry downed the potion while looking at the Firebolts; he almost didn't notice the taste while reading about the stats on the newest model.

Dudley stayed in the infirmary with them overnight. Brooms were discussed at length, and then they speculated about what Draco's new ability. Draco guessed he might suddenly be able to fly without transforming into a falcon. Dudley wondered if he would have abilities like he'd seen on TV – 'like firestarting, moving objects with his mind, etc.' Draco frowned and said he could do all that – with a wand.

"I know!" Harry laughed. He was sweating out another stab of pain in his leg. The pain potion suppressed most of the pain … but now and then a bit bled through. "I bet you have seer ability and you start sniffing incense – wear gauzy scarves and predict everyone's doom."

Harry and Dudley burst into snickers while Draco gagged in horror at the thought. "No, if I show signs of that you have to stop me …"

"Sure, I'll stun you and take to St. Mungo's closed ward." Dudley said easily.

"Certainly not … you'll stun me and take me home – father will summon the healers to take care of things. If I start acting like a loon … I'm sure there's a potion or two that will take care of it." Draco sniffed. No Malfoy ended up in a closed ward, not with all those extra wings in the Manor.

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