Harry slouched over to the Infirmary window, paying only half an ear to Herminone's lecture on the 'science' behind decongestant potions. With her still catlike eyes and bound-back hair (the fur-removing potion still needed to be applied every half hour), his friend bore a strong resemblance to Professor McGonnagal.

Such a resemblance was not lost on Ron, who had left his potions homework to the last minute (as usual) and was now finding it particularly difficult to meet Hermione's eye, especially as (Ron had been forced to admit), Snape had made a few pointed remarks regarding the similarity of Harry and Ron's essays last week.

Harry had, as a result, buckled down and hacked his way through the work, whilst Ron had settled down for an evening of Wizarding Chess with Dean. End result, embarrassed, gruff and disgruntled Ron and irritated, chiding and (it must be said), slightly smug Hermione.

Harry debated with himself a bit about whether to leave his friends to it- although Hermione had some good points, he wasn't going to re-write his homework, not when Snape would probably just mark him T on the basis that the name 'Harry Potter' automatically reduced any essay which followed it by 200 or so marks. However, despite the privacy wards around Hermione's bed and despite the fact that Ron was facing away from the Mediwitch, Harry knew that Madam Pomfrey could see Ron's ears getting pinker and pinker and Harry knew that it was only his presence which was keeping the peace- Ron and Hermione's arguments were never quite so bad if Harry was around.

His head on his hand, Harry gazed out of the window. Hagrid was apparently having a fight with thin air; god knows what monster he'd now discovered- maybe a super strong moth! Harry amused himself by thinking of Snape running around, just a few scraps of black material to defend his dignity, yelling 'get me some mothballs!' Then again, that scenario might entail a naked and unabashed Dumbledore, standing up in the great hall to explain that there was no need to be embarrassed and that everyone was more or less the same under their clothes, whilst the house elves handed out figleaves...

Shaking his head to dispel the increasingly bizarre  daydream, Harry returned his gaze to the window in time to see a small, white blond figure walking across the grounds towards the forbidden forest.

Draco! It was a stroke of luck; the scheme to get into the Slytherin Common Room had failed spectacularly; Crabbe and Goyle had somehow earned detention with Professor Flitwick, who Harry and Ron had bumped into immediately after taking polyjuice and had spent the next hour cleaning silver cups and trophies in the awards room, only just managing to get away before the potion wore off.

Making his excuses, Harry ran out of the Infirmary, down numerous flights of stairs and outside just as Draco was disappearing into the trees. Throwing on his invisibility cloak, Harry ran, fast as his legs could carry him and, panting, reached the edge of the forest in time to see a flash of white blond in the distance.

Summoning up his reserves of energy, Harry followed, marvelling at his luck. Of course the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was in the Forbidden Forest, well duh! If you were going to have a secret way into the castle, what better place to hide it. Besides, if the monster was a meat eater, it might need to come out to hunt. It was obvious, really, when you thought about it.

Of course, it had not occurred to Harry that Draco might, himself, be following another person, even less so that someone else might have also observed Draco entering the Forbidden Forest and also be in pursuit.

Had Harry had not been concentrating so avidly on all the possibilities (was it a minotaur? a giant spider like in Lord of the Rings? a dinosaur even?), had Draco not pulled up so sharply, had the tree root not stuck out at just the wrong angle, perhaps this story would have run a very different course.

However, Harry was walking in a daydream, Draco did stop suddenly and Harry did trip over the tree root.

The boys collided and fell in a heap, their fall cushioned, silenced by the thick moss. The marvel was that, for all the surprise they felt, neither boy made a sound beyond the slightest of gasps.

Harry looked up to see Draco glaring at him- the hood of the cloak had fallen awry. He opened his mouth but, to his shock, Draco lunged forward and put his hand over Harry's mouth before he could utter a word.

"Quiet, Potter, or you'll get us both expelled" Draco hissed

"What?!" Harry hissed back. Then, to his surprise, someone spoke.

"It is safe now, Fawkes."

Scrambling to their knees, Harry and Draco shuffled through the dry earth to the clearing and peaked through the trees.

Dumbledore stood, a bright, tall figure in the gloom of the clearing. On his shoulder was a large, red-gold bird.

"A phoenix" Draco whispered to himself.

Harry covered his mouth to stifle a gasp.

The phoenix fluttered off Dumbledore's purple clad shoulder for a moment before changing, right in front of their eyes, into a man.

A young man, tall and trim, with flowing, curly golden hair.

"My dear, you grow older every day" he said, in a heavy germanic accent, gentling stroking a wrinkled cheek.

"And you remain forever young." Dumbledore said indulgently. "It is fortunate, for I am not only looking but feeling older every day, Gellert. The Chamber..."

"Hush, yes, I know. It have been opened, you being forced out of Hoggywarts soon and you want I to stay and protect the mudbloods, ya? I do this for you."

Dumbledore shook his head "As always succinct. I do wish you would not use that term, however."

The young man shrugged "No sticks and stones or broken bones." he paused, observing the Headmaster's woebegone expression "I will not add to your troubles, my beloved friend. I would never wish to hurt you. Never again."

Staring wide eyed at the tableu of their Headmaster embracing the younger man, the boys did not hear anyone approaching until a heavy hand fell upon each of their shoulders.

"You will be coming with me!" hissed Professor Snape.