Wearing his Gryffindor Quidditch robes the following Saturday, Harry hovered in the air high above the Quidditch pitch. He knew in the stands were his father, Tobias, and Mum. The first Quidditch match of the year, and it was against Slytherin. The second-year felt positively sick. He glanced down at the field to watch Madam Hooch instruct the captains of both teams—Slytherin's Adrian Pucey and Gryffindor's Oliver Wood—to shake hands. Harry felt a bit better knowing that Slytherin's Montague and Flint were both suspended from Quidditch until further notice by Dumbledore for their Muggleborn insults awhile back. Their absence meant that Slytherin had to rely on lesser experienced players, giving Gryffindor a chance now. All the fastest brooms in the world wouldn't do a person any good if he or she hadn't at least played a game of Quidditch before.

At the sound of the whistle, Harry shot off, his broom darting left and right to avoid collisions. He ignored the fact that Malfoy—still acting strangely subdued for some reason—was the opposing Seeker. Harry focused all his concentration on finding the Golden Snitch. Gryffindor was not going to lose. Not this time. Wood's earlier words echoed in Harry's mind. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry. He wouldn't let Wood or his team down. He just wouldn't.

Harry zoomed up high into the sky, catching the glittering gold instantly. His broom sped off after it. He'd show Slytherin a thing or two about how money couldn't buy matches. Vaguely, he heard someone yell his name, but he ignored it and reached out to snatch the Snitch.

WHAM.

The scream tore out of Harry instantly, his right arm hanging limply by his side. Where the hell had that Bludger come from? The pain was nearly unbearable as it shot through his arm. He, however, pushed himself through it. A broken arm was hardly the worst thing he had ever been forced to endure. Merlin knew that. He had a match to win.

At the sight of the glittering gold again just in front of him, Harry reached out with his good arm, snatching it with a dazed laugh. They had won. Take that, Slytherin! He held his hand up proudly. The match was over. Gryffindor won! Wood would be so happy now.

However, something collided with Harry a moment later, slamming hard into his back. The force of the blow unseated him, causing him to spiral at breakneck speed towards the ground. Harry couldn't even bother to scream before he hit the mud.

When he came to, he heard a flurry of noise and saw blurs coming from all directions. He lolled his head to the side with a groan before he started to choke. He couldn't breathe. Something was filling his lungs, liquid of some kind. He choked, sputtering as he closed his eyes.

"He's choking!" someone shouted.

"Get Madam Pomfrey!" another person yelled.

"Step back, chaps. I have just the spell for young Mr. Potter. We'll get him right as rain."

"No. Not you, Lockhart!" cried someone that sounded a bit like Ron, just a bit raspier—or did Harry just think Ron sounded raspy because he was in a lot of pain?

"Poor boy doesn't know what he's saying. Distraught over his hurt friend."

"Oh, yes he does!"

"Ron, come on." Another voice was added to the mix.

"No, Hermione. He's not doing any of his spells on Harry."

"Ron, lower your wand. He's a professor."

"Yeah, and an idiot one, too, Hermione."

"Ronald Weasley!"

"What? He is, Hermione!"

"I most certainly am not. You take that back, Mr. Weasley."

"I most certainly will not! You're an idiot! Everyone who's ever read your books knows it."

"Ronald!"

Harry laughed silently. Everyone sounded so funny to him. Like they were all characters on a comedy show on the telly. He opened his eyes, glancing towards them. There were all sorts of different shapes looking down at him. Merlin, he felt so loopy. As his vision blurred even further into darkness, he closed his eyes again, passing out.

~FKTF~

"He feels a little warm, doesn't he, Madam?" a soft voice whispered somewhere near Harry, a hand against Harry's forehead.

"He's fine, Aurora." Madam Pomfrey laughed quietly as the hand was removed. "Goodness, my dear. Trust me. I have him well in hand. You need not to do the Martyr's Gift this year on Mr. Potter."

"I didn't mean that. I just—"

"I know, Aurora. He's mending just fine so far. As I told you before, the bones are reset, and the damage is repaired. He's merely resting now." There was a soft sigh. "I take it Severus is still inspecting the equipment with Rolanda?"

"Yes. Otherwise, he'd be here with Harry." A gentle hand brushed back Harry's long hair. "Is he in pain? I mean, he looks like he is. Maybe it's time for another pain potion?"

"Aurora, please. Stop worrying. You getting all worked up will not be good for either of you."

"Someone tried killing him, Poppy. With a Bludger of all things."

"I know. I saw it just as you and Severus did."

"If it's not Purebloods being kidnapped or cats being Petrified, it's hexed Bludgers trying to kill Harry." She exhaled loudly, clearly frustrated. "Hasn't he gone through enough already in his life?"

"Harry's a survivor, Aurora. He shows us his strength every day."

"He's also a twelve-year-old boy, Poppy," she retorted. "Who has gone through hell and back."

"I know that. However, he has Severus and you, Aurora. He's in good hands now."

"Severus is livid. He thought it might be retaliation for Flint and Montague's punishments."

"Understandable."

Harry moaned softly, unable to remain quiet any longer as he had eavesdropped on the witches. His eyes slowly opened before he yelped out from a sharp pain in his back.

"Welcome to the land of the living, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said with a faint smile.

"Ow," he replied, wincing. He realized quickly that he couldn't move his arm, and that he was lying on his side. "What happened?" he asked weakly.

"Someone tampered with a Bludger, it would seem," his mum answered as she sat across from him. "Your dad's trying to see if he and Madam Hooch can find out who it was."

That made sense, considering what he had heard them discussing just a few moments ago. He glanced around the room before looking back at her. It sounded like it was just them in the hospital wing. He had thought that his grandfather would have at least been there.

"Where's Tobias?" Harry still wasn't comfortable—for some reason—calling the man Grandpa yet. Of course, his dad didn't seem at all comfortable calling the man Dad either.

"He's in the dungeons, getting your dad's bed all ready for you."

"What?" Harry was confused now. "Aren't I staying here?"

"Normally, I'd be inclined to say 'yes,' but because of the nature of your injuries, your father requested you remain in the dungeons. Where you're safe, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey answered. "We're not quite certain who it was that fixed that Bludger, and he's not one to take chances with you."

"Oh."

"You can heal just as well down there as you can up here."

Madam Pomfrey and his mum then glanced towards the door. Harry could see his mum's eyes widen instantly before she hid her surprise at something.

"What? What is it?" His curiosity had taken over.

"It's nothing, love." His mum rose a moment later from her seat. "I'll take him down there now."

"Good. I'll send a house elf with the potions after I deal with . . ."

"I understand."

Harry frowned when he saw Madam Pomfrey move away. Something was going on behind his back. Literally. The adults just weren't willing to share. Had something happened? Was there another Bludger attack? Oh, no. What if it was his dad? No. If it had been his dad, his mum would be more choked up or something. It was something else. Something deemed to be a threat. Clearly.

"Kali," his mum called out. A small female house elf appeared a moment later. "Take us to Severus's bedroom. Now." Without another word, the three disappeared.

~FKTF~

Meanwhile, Snape frowned as he moved his wand over each piece of Quidditch equipment. So far, they had found nothing. Not even a trace of a magical signature that could be tied to the tampered equipment. There was no dark magic. No light magic. Nothing except house elf magic.

He then paused, re-inspecting the Bludgers. One Bludger was badly damaged from a well-deserved Bombarda after it had hit Harry in the back. His eyes narrowed as he then re-inspected the Beaters bats. There was more house elf magic on the Bludgers than there was on any other piece of equipment. He noticed Hooch's look of puzzlement.

"Do the house elves usually handle the equipment?" he inquired, already knowing the answer.

"Sometimes. Usually when they need to be washed. Why, Severus?"

"Did you have them washed recently, Madam Hooch?"

"No. Not since the end of last term. Why?"

Snape's frown deepened. There was no way any witch or wizard could tamper the Bludgers without leaving some trace of their magical signature behind. And it especially couldn't be erased without someone reaching the Bludgers before he and Madam Hooch had arrived. There was a crowd full of witnesses who hadn't seen anyone go near the bloody things. So, it left only one explanation.

"A house elf tampered with this Bludger," he stated.

"A house elf? Why on earth would a house elf try to kill your son? It doesn't make any sense."

"I agree." Snape's mind raced with plausible explanations, but he couldn't. No Hogwarts house elf would ever attack a student, ordered to do so or otherwise. He then thought for a moment. What if it wasn't a Hogwarts elf? He'd have to ask Lucius about it later. Perhaps the man would have the answer.

"You'll referee the next match, I take it? Like you did last year when Harry was hexed?"

"If my son is able to play, certainly." He hadn't seen Harry since earlier on the pitch, his son lying completely still with Lockhart and Weasley arguing like idiots above him. He inclined his head to Madam Hooch before he walked away. Maybe this happened because the Fates were telling him that he'd have to choose between the woman he cared for and his son. That he couldn't protect both.

Walking into his rooms a half an hour later, he set his outer robes on the hook by the door and then proceeded to the bedroom where he heard voices. He slowed when he caught Harry's laughs. He leaned against the doorjamb, glancing in with his arms crossed at the sight that greeted him. Like a little kid who had gone to his mum in the middle of the night after a nightmare, Harry was snuggled up against Aurora, his broken arm propped up by a pillow. The two were laughing at the shadow puppets that danced across the wall as Tobias made them, sound effects and all.

Snape couldn't help but chuckle a few times. He'd admit that Tobias certainly had a knack for comedy. He watched with them, slowly walking further in the room but still hovering by the door. He had never been truly comfortable in these settings. He always felt as if he was a burden to others for some reason. Or perhaps it was something else. He didn't know for certain.

"Hey, Dad," Harry said softly, a wide grin on his face. "Come over here. We got plenty of room." He kicked his legs as if to prove his point. His eyes then darted back to Tobias who was telling an amusing rendition of the Three Little Pigs.

Snape walked to the edge of the large four-poster bed, sitting down and leaning against one of the tall bedposts. He kept himself deliberately back from Aurora to ensure that nothing improper occurred. He didn't need Harry to start the adolescent whining about such things then.

"Ya find anythin' out, son?" Tobias asked once he finished his storytelling, joining them on the bed a moment later.

Snape glanced towards each of them before sighing. "It would seem that a house elf tampered with the Bludger."

"Dobby?" Harry mumbled under his breath in surprise prior to realizing his mistake. He quickly snapped his mouth shut and glanced away when his dad leaned forward.

"Where did you hear that name?" When Harry shook his head, Snape's frown deepened. "Answer me, son. Where did you hear that name?" There was no way Lucius had spoken about the elf. The man was rarely around anymore, spending his time with Rayne most nights now. "Harry, answer me. Where did you hear that name?"

"I didn't," the young boy replied quietly, keeping his eyes downcast.

"Then, how is it that name came to be in your head?" Snape responded, staring at him.

"Um, well, uh, promise not to get mad?"

"It's too late for that. So, answer the question."

"He was at the castle that we visited over the summer. He was the reason the suits of armor came to life. Not the little girl, Dad. He told me not to come back to Hogwarts this year."

"Why?" Snape drew the word out slowly.

"I don't know. He didn't say. Well, just that it wasn't safe." Harry shrugged before wincing. "I think he wrote me, though. Once I mean. When we were at Scarborough. It's in Mum's journal."

Snape held his hand out, summoning the journal that he knew was on his son's desk in the other room. He drew in a slow breath when it suddenly flew into his hand. The smell of lavender and other scents instantly surrounded him. He brushed it off, though, flipping through the journal before finding the slip of parchment.

Don't return to Hogwarts next term. It's not safe.

Snape drew his wand, tapping it once against the note to reveal the writer's identity. His eyes narrowed when he caught the name. That most certainly was not Dobby. He glanced at Harry before looking back down at the note. What in the nine hells was going on?

"Baron!" he called out. His eyes darted to the Slytherin ghost when he floated into the room. "Escort Lucius and Draco Malfoy to my rooms immediately." He turned away when the Baron glided away to follow his orders.

"What are you planning on doing, Severus?" his mum asked softly.

"I'm going to figure out why Draco warned Harry to stay away," Snape answered with a forced exhale as he clenched his teeth. He should've known better. Lucius was a Slytherin and a Death Eater at that. All attempts at stating he was reformed were likely lies on his part.

"You asked to see us, old friend?" Lucius said with a smile that quickly faded. "What's wrong?"

"Why did your son write mine and tell him to stay away this term?"

Lucius's eyes quickly darted to Draco, who kept his eyes trained on his feet. "I was not aware that he had, I assure you, Severus. Answer him, Draco," he barked.

"Hogwarts isn't safe for Harry," the second-year Slytherin answered softly.

"That is not for you to decide, Draco Lucian Malfoy!"

"But the diary, Dad!" Draco then clapped his mouth shut and took a step back as if he expected a blow at any moment.

"The diary?" Snape repeated deathly quiet. "What diary? What is your son referring to, Lucius?"

"I haven't the slightest, Severus." Lucius shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine at this point." He shook his head before inhaling sharply when Snape slammed him up against the wall with a wand digging into his neck. "Severus! Old friend!"

"The truth, Lucius. Now!" he hissed, glaring daggers at the blond. "Lest I start informing—"

"All right. All right! Let me go, and I'll tell you."

"No. You tell me now!" He dug his wand deeper in the other wizard's throat.

"I procured an interesting object in Knockturn Alley a few years back."

"And?"

"I may have slipped it into one of the Weasley brats' cauldrons this summer."

"What sort of 'interesting object' was it, Lucius?"

"A diary. Like the boy said. It's harmless, though. You write a few lines. It writes back. That's all. Nothing to get all upset over, I assure you. Now, may I be let down?"

"What aren't you telling?"

"The stupid house elf thought it was dark. Said it was evil and a litany of other junk. But I found no such darkness on it." He swallowed when Snape's eyes narrowed. "Well, I might have found a trace of it at first, but when I examined it again, I found nothing."

"Draco?" Snape asked, frowning.

"It felt like it was sucking out my soul when I played with it once," the young blond answered quietly. "I didn't want it to be like last year. So I thought if Harry stayed away, it'd be all right."

"Why?"

"It seemed interested in him, Professor. Like really interested in learning about Harry."

"Old friend, you know me," Lucius interrupted. "I owe you a life debt in fact. Why would I try to harm your son?"

Snape brushed off Lucius's words. "Draco, did you order Dobby to tamper with the Bludgers?"

"No, sir."

"Lucius, did you order Dobby to tamper with the Bludgers?"

"Merlin no, Severus." Lucius exhaled. "Why would I order my house elf to harm your son after I petitioned the Dark Lord not to go after your son anymore?"

"You spoke with the Dark Lord?"

"Yes. Contrary what everyone would like to imagine, the Dark Lord is quite well."

"What was the condition he required, Lucius? What did you promise him?"

"Nothing. I may have told a few . . . mistruths to him, though, to ensure it'd be in his interest."

"Regarding?"

"Harry's mother."

"Explain."

"I informed the Dark Lord that Mud—Muggleborn was not his mother. That it was an elaborate lie she had told to conceal the fact that she miscarried."

"He'd never believe such a thing." Hell, Snape couldn't even believe such a thing.

"He would when I had proof to state my claims, old friend."

"Proof can be manufactured, Lucius. Any good Slytherin would know that."

"It can. But in this case, the proof was a former employee of St. Mungo's."

"What are you talking about?"

"In July of 1980, Harry James Potter was born at St. Mungo's, where he stayed for two days," Lucius happily announced. "Also, in July of 1980, Miss Aurora Sinistra was admitted to St. Mungo's the same time that our dear Harry was born. She too stayed for two days."

"You son of a bitch!" Aurora yelled instantly. "You had no right!"

Snape's eyes darted to her before returning to Lucius. "Are you stating that you told the Dark Lord that Aurora is his real mother?"

"Yes."

"And he believed it?"

"Yes. Because the man had told the truth. He had falsified birth records when he was there."

"Where's the diary now? Which Weasley did you give it to?"

"I don't know. I didn't pay much attention. Just dropped it in the cauldron and left."

"We need to find that diary. Understand?" Snape's eyes darkened as he glared at him.

"It's nothing bad, Severus, I assure you. This concern for the students is misplaced."

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, Lucius."

"It's not real. It's pure fantasy. Words spoken from an old legend meant to scare the first-years."

"Then, tell me, Lucius. Just what exactly is petrifying the students currently? You are aware there was another attack tonight, aren't you?" He noticed the bob in Lucius's Adam's apple. "Your son could be the monster's next victim."

"Impossible."

"How so?"

"It won't attack a Slytherin," Lucius replied, holding his head up a bit higher. "Especially not one who holds my views."

"Would you like to test that theory, Lucius?" He scoffed when the blond quickly shook his head. Lucius may have been a fierce believer in the Dark Lord's ideals but underneath that exterior he was just a selfish, self-centered coward. His only redeeming quality, if one could call it that, was that he loved his family more than anything and would do anything to protect their best interests. "I thought not. You and I are going to find that diary tomorrow. In the meantime, order your house elf to cease and desist where my son is concerned, and get the hell out." He released Lucius, turning away. He said nothing when he heard the older wizard scramble to his feet before rushing out the door. Malfoys. He should've known.