Harry opened his eyes and groaned softly. He could feel pain in
every part of his body, but his head throbbed horribly. He had never
experienced anything like this, and after all the beatings he had
received from the Dursleys, that was saying something.
"Potter," said Madam Pomfrey as she saw him wake up. "Here, drink
this; it will make the pain go away."
She waved her wand and the phial of potion carefully came to
Harry's mouth; the liquid quickly travelled down his throat. The
moment he finished drinking the potion, he sighed in relief as the
pain reduced drastically.
"What happened?" murmured Harry, feeling disoriented.
"Cracked skull," replied Madam Pomfrey as she filled another goblet
with a blue coloured potion. "I've healed it, but you need to be here
for the next two days. A broken skull is a nasty business and has to
be taken care of delicately to avoid brain damage. Here, drink this."
Harry grimaced when she tipped the contents of the goblet down his
throat. He saw Daphne sitting in the corner, her eyes bloodshot,
holding his broomstick.
" Ahem … hi Daphne …"
"How're you feeling?" asked Daphne softly as she rushed towards
him. "Your teammates had been here an hour ago, but you were
unconscious. They returned the broom to me and said that they'll
come back later."
"I'm fine," muttered Harry. "Not sure what was wrong with the
bludger, though."
"Someone had tampered with it, without a doubt," Daphne scowled.
"I tried to complain, but Dumbledore put it off as a tragic accident."
"That's nothing out of the ordinary," he said wryly.
The next few hours went by with Harry being visited by some of his
acquaintances and also the Quidditch team. When it was time for
dinner, Madam Pomfrey poured a few drops of nutrient potion down
his throat as he was not fit to get up yet.
"This has got to be the most uncomfortable place to sleep in," said
Harry quietly as he closed his eyes, feeling quite frustrated.
Daphne simply smiled. "It's only for two days. You can then be back
in your room. Is there anything I can help you with? Curfew is in five
minutes, so I'll have to go, but if there's something you want ..."
"I'll be fine, Daphne," he said, with a hint of a fond smile on his face.
"Don't worry about me."
Daphne smiled too. She leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on his
forehead. "Good night, Harry," she murmured. Brushing his hair
lightly with her fingers, she smiled once again and left.
Harry took a few deep breaths. His cheeks were flushed and his
pulse was racing. Unable to help himself, he grinned, staring up at
the ceiling with wide, happy eyes.
Maybe this accident wasn't so bad after all.
Hours later, Harry winced as he woke up around pitch blackness, his
head still throbbing. For a moment, he wondered why he had woken
up when he realised that someone was sponging his forehead in the
dark. With a yelp, he cast a wandless banishing charm at whomever
or whatever was next to him.
" Lumos ! "
A ball of light illuminated in his palm, bathing his surroundings with
brightness. "What the hell – Dobby !"
"Harry Potter came back to school," whispered the elf miserably.
"Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed
Dobby?"
"I need more proof that something is wrong before I quit school,
Dobby," said Harry, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Did your master
put you up to this? Why does Lucius Malfoy want me out of the
school?"
Dobby gasped when Harry mentioned his master's name, but shook
his head in desperation. "Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought
his bludger would be enough –"
" Your bludger?" snarled Harry angrily. "What the hell is wrong with
you? That blasted bludger cracked my skull! You better clear off
soon, Dobby or I might strangle you!"
"Dobby is used to death threats, sir," said the elf weakly. "Dobby gets
them five times a day at home. You must go leave, Harry Potter!
Dark deeds are planned at Hogwarts this year. Great danger looms
the castle and Harry Potter must not stay here! Not now, when
history is to repeat itself, with the Chamber of Secrets open once
more."
Dobby's eyes widened as he picked up a newspaper and started
hitting himself with it. But Harry vanished the newspaper with a wave
of his hand and summoned the elf closer. "You mean to say the
Chamber is real?" he asked quietly. "That there really is a monster in
the Chamber of Secrets? But why would it target me? I'm not a
Muggle-born. I'm the direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor himself!"
"Ask no more of poor Dobby," sobbed the elf. "Harry Potter must go
home!"
"When was the Chamber opened the last time?" Harry pushed
impatiently. "Who did it then? How is Lucius Malfoy responsible for it
this time?"
Suddenly, there were footsteps outside the Hospital Wing. Dobby
squeaked in fear and disappeared with a near-silent pop . Harry
extinguished the light and pretended to go back to sleep when he
heard people enter.
"Find Poppy, quickly," urged Dumbledore to his deputy as he
levitated the boy to one of the beds. When Madam Pomfrey came to
check on her newest patient, the aged headmaster explained what
had happened.
"There has been another attack," he told her gravely. "He's been
petrified."
Harry turned slightly and opened his eyes minutely, only to see the
still, unconscious body of Colin Creevey. He swallowed when he
could smell the burnt plastic of the Muggle camera all the way to his
bed.
"What could this mean, Albus?" whispered McGonagall in fear.
"It means the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again,"
declared Dumbledore gravely. His tone was soft, but his eyes
burning with rage.
"But Albus ... surely ... who ?"
"The question is not only who ," muttered Dumbledore, his eyes
falling on the sleeping form of Harry Potter. "The question we must
also be asking ourselves is how ... and why ..."
Albus Dumbledore could not begin to describe his anger at the
attack on the students of Hogwarts. The last time it had happened,
he had not been able to do anything, letting the situation get out of
hand. He had suspected that Tom Riddle was behind it, but he didn't
have proof. Being a Parselmouth was not a crime, and there was no
evidence at all to support his theory, so the sixteen-year-old boy had
gotten away with it, culminating with the death of that Ravenclaw
student and Hagrid being expelled for crimes he didn't commit.
That was when Albus had realised the extent of Tom's cruelty and
lack of empathy for anyone but himself. If this had happened last
year, he would have immediately suspected Voldemort to be behind
it, because the very much weakened Dark Lord had been inside the
castle, even if he was on Albus' leash. But this year, he had not
detected anything. He had been hoping for a peaceful year as he
tried his best to repair the damaged relationship between him and
Harry by maybe teaching the young wizard Alchemy, but that had not
happened.
He knew Harry hated Muggles but was it possible that he hated
Muggle-borns as well? The boy was the only Parselmouth in the
school – the only one in the country – so there couldn't be anyone
else who might have done it. He knew that it wasn't Voldemort who
was behind these attacks since his sources said that the Dark Lord
was currently far away, deep in the Albanian forests, so that meant
someone else was responsible. But how had Harry found the
Chamber so quickly? It had taken Tom years to find it. But wait ...
was the boy a Parselmouth at all? Was he jumping to conclusions
because of the Horcrux in Harry's scar?
He would have to confirm his theory and maybe look out for any
other sources that might have enabled the opening of the Chamber
of Secrets. Albus didn't want to jump to conclusions. He still felt guilty
for causing Harry's pain, even if he felt it was necessary at the time,
so he wouldn't suspect the boy until he had proof.
Now, how would he find out if Harry really was a Parselmouth?
"Nothing," sighed Daphne as she plopped herself on the couch
beside Harry in the Room of Requirement. "There is absolutely no
information about the opening of the Chamber of Secrets in the
library."
Harry's eye twitched in annoyance.
"What sort of creature is capable of petrifying its victims, anyway?"
she asked curiously.
"The only thing I can think of that causes petrification such as this is
the gaze of a Gorgon, but they are very limited in number and don't
exist in Britain. Besides, I'm sure that wards would have picked it up
and Dumbledore would've surely noticed it. No, this is probably the
work of a wizard. There is absolutely no proof that a magical
creature was involved in any way."
The two spent the next couple of hours together in animated
conversation while they finished their homework. Finally, after dinner,
Harry exhaled heavily. "I have detention with Lockhart tonight,
Daphne. I'll see you tomorrow."
"What did you do this time?" asked Daphne in surprise.
Harry smirked faintly. "Fred, George and I decided to play a little
prank on him in class. When he asked us to imitate werewolves,
Fred and George cast glamour charms while I used a Confundus.
Needless to say, for just a couple of seconds it worked and he
pissed himself in fear. Naturally, we got detention. According to
Sirius, the detention is more than worth pranking that idiot. I swear, I
wonder if he's a wizard at all! I haven't seen him perform magic
except to beautify himself!"
"It's just for tonight, isn't it?"
"No," he replied, sounding annoyed. "It's a total of seven days. I'll
see you tomorrow. Goodnight Daphne."
After Harry left the Room of Requirement and was heading towards
the Defence classroom, he heard a voice; a voice so chilling that he
nearly tripped.
"Come ... come to me ... let me rip you ... let me tear you ... let me
kill you ... so hungry ... must kill this time ..."
Harry's heart was beating furiously. What the hell was that? Pressing
his ear to the wall, he began following the voice, his strides long and
quick.
"I smell blood ... KILL!"
Harry broke into a run, turning a corner only to gasp in surprise. A
second-year student, Justin Finch-Fletchley, was lying on the
ground, petrified, while the clearly petrified form of Nearly Headless
Nick floated in front of him. What was going on? There was another
attack? He had to inform a teacher! He needed to get Professor
Flitwick at once.
As he turned a corner, he crashed headfirst into a bunch of secondyear
Hufflepuffs.
"Oh, sorry," apologised Hannah, as she got to her feet. "What's
wrong, Harry?"
Just then, they heard a scream of panic. They turned to find Wayne
Hopkins and Ernie Macmillan looking at the petrified forms of Justin
and Nick.
"T-There has been another a-attack," squeaked Hopkins, looking
terrified. "We need to get the teachers."
When they turned around and hurried towards Professor Sprout's
office, Harry's heart began to race. What was that voice? Whatever
he had followed had led him to the petrified victims. Then Dobby was
right; there was a Chamber of Secrets. And there was probably a
monster inside which was hunting the Muggle-borns. He quietly
made his way to the Defence classroom for his detention, lost in
thought. How was he able to understand the monster? Did the
creature speak English?
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Two weeks before the winter holidays, a sheet of parchment
appeared on the notice board outside the Great Hall. Harry casually
walked towards it, not bothering to talk to anyone. Suddenly, he had
been the scrutiny of intense speculation because somehow, news
had gotten out that he was the one to find Justin in the corridor and
had been attempting to flee the scene when he ran into the
Hufflepuffs. Harry didn't bother dignifying such stupidity with a
response. Some of the students were looking at him with terrified
expressions on their faces, but the others were quite indifferent.
Harry must have been the first person to stumble onto the scene,
end of story.
The notice informed them of a Duelling Club that was to be held that
very evening. Harry was quite surprised and excited by that. He
knew that Professor Flitwick was an International Duelling
Champion, having won the adult championship several times. Being
the winner of the Under-13 tournament, he was quite eager to learn
from someone who had taken part in the circuit himself. There was
also the fact that he greatly admired Professor Flitwick. So that
evening, he found himself joining more than half the school in the
Great Hall, where they stood surrounding the duelling podium that
had been erected in the middle.
"Where's Flitwick?" asked Daphne in confusion. That's when she
saw someone she didn't want to see at a duelling arena.
"Oh, Mother Magic, have mercy," muttered Harry. "I can't believe
Dumbledore let this fool teach us duelling. This idiot can't even hold
his wand right, so how is he going to teach us battle spells?"
"Maybe he knows something about duelling?" suggested Neville,
sounding hopeful.
"Trust me, Neville, that buffoon can't duel to save his life," Harry
replied, rolling his eyes. Several girls around them who had heard
him gasped in outrage. He mentally snorted. They'll know the truth
one day. If he hadn't been so busy studying for his fourth-year exams
which were just two weeks away, he might have actually done
something to get rid of the man.
"Do you think we can get out?" asked Blaise Zabini quietly.
"I doubt it," answered Daphne.
Harry nodded as he looked at the doors of the Hall which were
closed. "She's right. We'd draw too much attention to ourselves and
the last thing I need is to piss off Snape before my O.W.L.s. What
was Snape thinking coming here anyway? I thought he hated
students and teaching in general, so shouldn't that make him not
agree to be Lockhart's assistant ?"
Just as the words left his mouth, his attention was diverted. Snape
fired a disarming spell at Lockhart, sending the other man flying
away as he hit the end of the podium. Theo choked as he bit back a
laugh, but Tracy began laughing outright.
"That was not a graceful landing," smiled Neville.
"He's probably embarrassed," said Susan, grinning widely. "Oh, look!
He's trying to save face! I wonder why he didn't use a shield charm
when he saw the incoming spell."
"That's probably because he doesn't know how to cast a shield,"
Daphne smirked.
"The Disarming Spell; an excellent demonstration, Professor Snape,"
Lockheart boomed, giving the audience a fancy yet pained smile.
"Let's pair everyone off, shall we? Let them experience how it is to
be guided by Gilderoy Lockheart himself! And of course, you,
Professor Snape ..."
A pair of dark eyes narrowed dangerously as he spotted the bored
looking Potter scion.
"I think we need another demonstration before we pair them up,"
said Snape, smiling nastily at Harry, "just to give the students a
better picture of what a real mock-duel looks like. How about we
choose Potter and Vaisley?"
"Yes, yes, that's a wonderful idea!" said Lockhart, beaming. "Mr
Potter, Miss Vaisley, get up here!"
"Harry, be careful," muttered Blaise. "Henrietta Vaisley is known for
her skills in Offensive Magic. She's also a cheat, so keep an eye
out."
"Thanks, Blaise," acknowledged Harry quietly as he walked up to the
podium. He seemed very calm and completely unperturbed.
"So, I finally get to duel the famous Harry Potter," Vaisley spat
snidely. "Under-13 Duelling Champion, isn't it? Let's see what you've
got!"
"Now, Harry," instructed Lockhart. "When she points her wand at
you, you do this."
He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling
action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it
up, saying, "Whoops – my wand is a little overexcited –"
Harry's face was expressionless as always, but mentally, he snorted
in disbelief. He couldn't believe people actually fell for this man's lies!
What was happening to the world? Was it so easy to fool people?
Snape moved closer to Vaisley, bent down, and whispered
something in her ear. Vaisley smirked too, but Harry didn't react.
Really, they were such drama queens, the both of them. They were
acting as though they had some secret weapon up their sleeves.
"Duellists, face each other," said Lockhart. Harry and Henrietta faced
each other and merely inclined their heads, not willing to actually
bow to the other.
"Three – two – one – go!" he shouted.
Harry flicked his wand as a jet of scarlet light headed towards
Henrietta. The Slytherin girl shielded against the stunner and sent a
bone-breaking curse of her own. Harry quickly dodged the spell and
upped his attacks. Jets of multi-coloured light were being fired from
both wands, but many could see a slight smirk on Harry's face.
"He's toying with her," announced Daphne, with a smirk of her own.
"I've read about that! It's considered one of the best strategies for
duelling," exclaimed Susan. "You tend to frustrate your opponent by
not actively seeking to finish them off. Such people make mistakes
and you use that vulnerability against them."
"Ingenious," said Blaise softly.
"It won't work with everyone," Theo disagreed.
"Maybe not," murmured Daphne. "But Vaisley clearly has an ego,
and when you're up against such people, frustrating them could help
you win. And that's exactly what Harry is doing."
"I said disarm only!" shouted Lockhart apprehensively as he dived
out of the way of a blasting curse. Henrietta snarled in anger as she
cast another bone-breaking curse, only for Harry to grab the curse at
the tip of his wand and reflect it back at the caster. This technique
required a lot of skill, not to mention power, but Sirius had taught
Harry well.
The flaw of that technique was that it would only work if the amount
of magic used to reflect the spell by the second duellist was greater
than the amount of magic used to cast the said spell by the first
duellist. This effect was something which all Arithmancy students
learnt in class to mathematically calculate the amount of magic
required by duellists on either side and was a favourite question in
the O.W.L. theatrical exam. Very few wizards could use this
technique because it was quite hard to practically implement it. One
had to be very quick at sensing magic and at mental mathematics for
it to work.
Therefore, nobody expected a twelve-year-old wizard, however
talented, to use it.
Henrietta Vaisley was not expecting that move. Due to the force of
the magic reflected at her, she was blasted back the moment the
curse struck her leg, shattering it painfully; she screamed. Harry's
face was still expressionless, but Severus Snape could see the
smug satisfaction in the boy's eyes.
The young Ravenclaw smirked at her, inclined his head to indicate
that the duel had come to an end, and turned to join the audience,
unaware of the hate being directed at him from the fallen Slytherin.
I will show that upstart kid his place , thought Vaisley furiously. She
raised her wand and silently cast, ' Serpensotia !'
Before Harry could even comprehend what was going on, he felt
something slam into him. His eyes widened when he saw three king
cobras coiling around his body, positioned to strike. The students in
the Hall, who had until then been cheering for him, became
uncharacteristically still and silent, not breathing a word. There was
thick panic in the air.
"How's that for a change, Potter?" screamed Vaisley in
uncontrollable fury, unable to handle the humiliating defeat. "Let's
see what a duelling champion can do now!"
With that, she cast a banishing charm at him. Harry had been
completely still the whole time, having been immobilised by the three
very poisonous snakes. Mentally, he was terrified, so he couldn't
dodge the banishing charm. He fell on his butt, the three snakes
hissing in pain and displeasure and just when they were about to bite
him, he acted.
Harry didn't know what made him do it, but it was something inherent
in him, something natural, so he said in a commanding voice.
" Stop! Do not bite me. Let go! "
Much to Harry's shock, the three snakes hissed again and replied, "
Yes, speaker ." They slithered away and were promptly vanished by
Professor Snape, who had a shocked look on his face too.
Harry himself was frozen. What the hell was going on? How was he
a Parselmouth? That skill was really rare and there was no one in
Magical Britain who had that ability anymore. Sure, there were
Parselmouths in the past, the most prominent of them being in the
Slytherin family, but they had all died out, hadn't they? Harry didn't
know much about Parseltongue except that it was quite feared in
Magical Europe, especially Britain, but never in his wildest dreams
would he have thought that he was a Parselmouth himself!
His eyes widened when he saw that everyone was staring at him in
shock and fear. Oh, Merlin; the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. This was
not good; not good at all.
And the worst part was that they had every right to suspect him. He
didn't have a single Muggle-born in his group of friends. While he
was cordial with several Muggle-borns like he was with the rest of
the school, since he didn't really talk to people much in the first
place, it was never a priority to befriend them. He had never labelled
his schoolmates based on their blood-status, so it never struck him
until now. All his 'friends' he usually hung out with his age were
purebloods. He knew that he was not related to Salazar Slytherin,
but the Slytherins were hardly the only Parselmouths in the world.
What was worrying was the fact that he had discovered this ability in
front of half the school and there was no way to prevent it from being
leaked out.
This was bad ... really bad.
"He's a Parselmouth, Albus," said Severus Snape quietly as he sat
down on the chair in front of the headmaster's desk.
Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat. Oh, how he wished he
was wrong, but he doubted there was any other theory that would fit.
Was it really Harry who had opened the Chamber? It seemed more
and more likely as time went on.
"But – but surely not!" cried Professor McGonagall, spluttering in
disbelief. "He's a Potter! He can't be a Parselmouth!"
"I saw it with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears," Snape
replied, his tone bland as always. "Hundreds of students saw it as
well. Miss Vaisley, though she lost her temper, performed her role
admirably, but somehow, I didn't believe you when confided in me,
Albus."
"You mean this was planned ?" asked McGonagall, aghast. "Albus,
how could you? Is that why Miss Vaisley was only suspended for a
week and not expelled?"
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I had suspected that young Harry
was a Parselmouth, but I had no way to prove it," he said quietly.
"That's why I granted Gilderoy permission to have this little Duelling
Club. I requested Severus orchestrate an event that would force
Harry to reveal his talent if he's put in a tight spot. Being strangled
and nearly bitten by three very poisonous snakes will offer a great
incentive to protect yourself, which is exactly what happened. People
who are scared will commit mistakes, which I confess, has happened
to me as well. Smart, Harry may be, but he's still a twelve-year-old
boy. He would never have seen this coming. Also, I've noticed a
pattern in him. Ever since he won the Under-13 International
Duelling Championship this past summer, he has become too sure of
himself. Being accepted into the accelerated program and his
exceptionally high grades have made him arrogant, and such people
tend to overlook things. I simply took advantage of it."
"B-But why did you want to find out if he's a Parselmouth in the first
place?"
Snape's mind was ticking as he put the pieces together. "Do you
think he's responsible for the opening of the Chamber of Secrets?"
"That is a possibility I cannot discount," answered Dumbledore, as
he sighed heavily. He closed his eyes, feeling the worst he had felt in
eleven years. Where had he gone wrong with the boy? Was it all
only because of the Dursleys? Was placing Harry there such a
terrible mistake that he couldn't fix? Would the boy have turned out
better if he had been allowed to grow up with Sirius and Amelia? He
had always said that being smarter than most men made his
mistakes that much larger, and this was yet another reminder of the
burden that was thrust upon him. He had seen too much death and
destruction in his life. What he wouldn't do to finally see lasting
peace …
"No!" said McGonagall flatly. "I refuse to believe it. The son of James
and Lily Potter attacking Muggle-borns! No, this can't be true, Albus!"
"It's probably closer to the truth than you realise, Minerva," said
Dumbledore, sounding old and weary. "The boy hates Muggles. In
fact, I have never heard him utter the word 'Muggle' without using the
word 'filthy' as a prefix. From what I've observed, hating Muggles and
Muggle-borns go hand in hand."
McGonagall was shocked and not a little disappointed. Snape's face
was impassive, but his eyes had widened marginally. This was not
what he had expected from James Potter's son. Mentally, he was
cackling with glee. He wondered how his old nemesis would feel
about this! Potter's own son hating Muggles and Muggle-borns;
Potter's own son turning into a murderer, deciding to kill innocents …
Oh, delicious irony! Perhaps he could celebrate this day with a bottle
of vintage wine as well. What a perfect way to toast to James
Potter's misery, even if the bloody bastard was dead. No matter;
there was still Sirius Black's misery he could watch.
"We need to keep a very close eye on him," murmured Dumbledore,
after a while. "Tell the rest of the staff, the Head Boy, Head Girl and
all the prefects to keep an eye on his activities. Perhaps it's a
blessing that the holidays are approaching soon. It will give me some
time to think and also re-check the castle's protective
enchantments."
"What?" snarled Snape. "Are we going to let him get away with this?
I say we call the Aurors immediately and have the boy thrown in
Azkaban! He should be expelled for this!"
"We don't have any proof to back up our claims, Severus," said
Dumbledore, pointedly staring at the man under his half-moon
spectacles. "Being a Parselmouth isn't illegal and I know for a fact
that the Potters aren't related to Slytherin. Besides, I don't want to
give up on him; he can still be redeemed. I will talk to him soon to
find out the truth."
"Then how is he a Parselmouth?" asked Snape testily.
"Of that, I'm not sure," Dumbledore replied, staring at the ceiling and
stroking his beard. He wasn't going to be sharing his theory about
the Horcrux in the boy's scar with anyone. How he wished he had
more of Harry's blood! It would have given him more time to study
the soul piece using the instrument he had seen in the Department
of Mysteries which could detect souls, but it was not possible to
extract blood without detection anymore. Blood was highly
dangerous in the wrong hands and nearly every magical family, old
or young, took care to ensure that their blood was safeguarded by
performing magical rituals.
Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat as Fawkes trilled softly.
The next two weeks were quite unbearable for Harry. The entire
school, including the teachers, was looking at him with terrified
expressions on their faces. Indeed, many actually did their best to
avoid looking at him, as though he would attack them in an instant.
Snape had been more horrible than ever in Potions class and it took
all of Harry's willpower to remain calm instead of outright killing the
man. Professors McGonagall and Sprout had become quite cold
towards him and acted as though he didn't exist, though Harry could
see the sadness and betrayal in McGonagall's eyes during class.
Slytherin House seemed to be divided on the whole issue. On one
hand, Harry was a Parselmouth, a talent which was extremely rare,
especially in the western part of the world. It was something that
Salazar Slytherin was famous for, so they were in awe of Harry's
ability, but on the other hand, the last Parselmouth was the Dark
Lord himself. And he had been absolutely terrifying.
Some people outright refused to ostracise Harry like that. Professor
Flitwick went out of his way in treating Harry normally and would
frown heavily when he caught sight of people running away from the
boy. The same was the case with Professors Babbling and Vector,
who considered Harry one of their favourites. Others like Blaise
Zabini, Theodore Nott, Tracy Davis, Neville Longbottom, Susan
Bones, Fred and George Weasley were also in open support of him,
but they were too less in number for it to matter. The Gryffindors and
Hufflepuffs were the worst. Harry being at the scene of Justin's
petrification really did not help any. A few brave older years were
openly scowling at him and the whispers behind his back had only
gotten worse. No one had dared to say anything to him in fear of
them being petrified, but Harry had never experienced something
this bad.
Daphne, of course, didn't care about it at all. Harry was her fiancé
and best friend, so she had decided to stick to him no matter what.
She had taken to accompanying Harry to the kitchens every day for
food since everyone was so uncomfortable with him sitting in the
Great Hall. But Harry was trying not to let it get to him. He had
exams approaching, after which he had to focus on Sirius and
Amelia's wedding, so he did his best to concentrate on his studies.
"Why don't you swear a magical oath in front of those morons?"
asked Daphne as she bit into her toast the day they were heading
back home. "It'll at least stop all the speculation."
"And risk losing my magic? I'm not an idiot to try it, Daph. If I say I'm
not Slytherin's heir, it would still make me seem guilty because of my
Parseltongue skill. If I say I didn't open the Chamber of Secrets, I
might risk losing my magic in the future if I actually do find the
Chamber. Magical Oaths are very tricky, from what Grandfather
Alfred told me. I will not risk my life because the people here are a
bunch of narrow-minded bigoted fools."
"True," muttered Daphne, frowning. She remained silent as they
continued eating, lost in thought. There had to be some way to stop
this! Ron Weasley had been spouting all sorts of nonsense lately
about how Harry was the new Dark Lord and that he would kill
everyone at school. It was quite frankly disgusting that none of the
teachers was doing anything about it. While a couple of them tried to
help, it didn't make a difference. One couldn't really make people talk
to you when the entire school was ignoring the said student.
"Come on," said Harry, bringing her back to the present. "I can't wait
to get out of here."
With a parting wave to the ever-cheerful house-elves, they exited the
kitchens, hand in hand, and soon walked out of the castle. It was
time to go back home for the winter holidays.
"And then, everyone thinks I'm the one who opened the bloody
Chamber!" said Harry heatedly. "What's wrong with these people?
Can't they see that I am a half-blood myself? My own mother was a
Muggle-born, so why would I want to attack them? Wouldn't that
make me a hypocrite?"
Sirius looked at him, his grey eyes full of concern; the eyes that had
still not fully lost the haunted look Azkaban had given him. He sat
down next to Harry and pulled the boy into a tight hug. Harry
stiffened at first, but after several seconds, slowly melted into the
embrace.
"I'm so sorry that you were forced into this situation, Harry," muttered
Sirius, slowly rubbing his back, pressing a tender kiss on the
forehead. "But you have no proof to say that you didn't do it either.
No one is directly accusing you and there is no way anyone can
arrest you, so all they can do is whisper. Amelia tried to get involved,
but apparently Dumbledore had gotten Fudge to sign an order to say
that he would take care of it and not push it forward to the D.M.L.E.
Normally, others wouldn't be able to do something like this, but
Dumbledore is also the Chief Warlock, the other most powerful post
in the country. People always seem to forget the office he holds,
thinking that being Hogwarts headmaster is the one which gives him
most power, but it's not true. It is his Chief Warlock and Supreme
Mugwump positions that give him true power. What Dumbledore
wants, Dumbledore gets."
Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It had been a long two weeks
and he had exams to write the next day at the Ministry.
"Do you want me to pull you from Hogwarts?" asked Sirius. "I can
hire tutors, if you'd like, or maybe send you abroad."
"It's not that bad, Sirius," said Harry, with a small smile, his green
eyes strangely soft with affection as he looked at his godfather. "It's
the way they're treating me that's annoying, nothing more. I'm not
going to let it affect my education. I'll be taking my O.W.L.s in June
and I can't let these morons distract me."
Before the older wizard could respond, they were soon joined by his
fiancée who had just Flooed in from the Ministry.
"Hey, you two," Amelia greeted them as she entered the drawing
room of Black Manor, looking tired. Without preamble, she
continued, "I was right the first time, Harry. There is no mention of
the Chamber of Secrets being opened anywhere in the Ministry
archives. If there is a story behind it, no one is talking. Even if there
were recorded documents, they were probably erased or destroyed.
I don't even know if it happened, so we can forget about finding out
when ."
Sirius frowned. "You said you could hear the voice of the creature?"
"Yes," answered Harry. "I couldn't hear it properly, but it was
definitely speaking. I could understand it. The creatures that can
speak English are Acromantulas, Sphinxes, Centaurs and
Manticores, and none of them cause petrification."
"What you heard might be Parseltongue," observed Amelia. "After
all, to you, it's the same as hearing it in English, right? Salazar's pet
being a snake is quite fitting."
"Maybe … But what sort of creature can do this? The only thing I can
think of is –"
"– a basilisk," finished Sirius. "You're right. But the stare of a basilisk
kills, it does not petrify. Besides, the thought of a thirty-foot long
snake is horrifying to even think about!"
"There is no way it's a basilisk, Sirius," countered Harry, shaking his
head. "A basilisk is too large to be the creature we're looking for and
how do you expect it to move around the school without being
detected? Something that big cannot hide! That's one thing we can
safely remove from our list of suspects."
"And a good thing too," said Amelia darkly. "A basilisk will cause an
international red alert because it can be used for mass destruction. A
team from the I.C.W. and from the resident magical government will
be sent immediately to kill the creature."
"Why is that?" asked Sirius, confused. "After all, there are several
Nundus in the wild, not to mention Dragons and Acromantulas.
They're all extremely dangerous creatures, so why are basilisks
alone marked as such?"
"Because unlike dragons and nundus, basilisks can be fully
controlled by a Parselmouth," replied Amelia. "This is actually
classified information which I gained access to when I was appointed
the Head of the D.M.L.E. Can you imagine the damage someone like
Voldemort could do if he gained access to a basilisk? He could
wreak havoc on scales we can't even imagine!"
"True," Harry murmured, tilting his head to the side. There was
something nagging him at the back of his mind, but he couldn't figure
out what. There was something he was missing; the answer felt so
close and yet so far away! Unfortunately, the foreign information in
his mind seemed to be blocked to him by a barrier. There were small
cracks in the barrier, from what he could describe, but most of it was
on the other side, not accessible to him. He shook his head to clear
his thoughts; he couldn't dwell on it now. He had other important
things to do.
"I'm going to bed," he said, getting to his feet. "I have to go to the
Ministry tomorrow for the fourth year exams. Good night."
"Sweet dreams," said Sirius as he looked at Harry walk upstairs to
his bedroom at Black Manor. He turned to Amelia. "They cannot
legally touch him, can they?"
"No," Amelia said, shaking her head. "He's protected by the law.
Being a Parselmouth isn't illegal, though I'm quite surprised he is
one. Is he related to the Slytherin family?"
Sirius barked out a laugh. "The Potters are actually the descendants
of Gryffindor," he clarified with a smile. "Trust me, any descendants
of Slytherin would never intermarry with them. Besides, it is a
misconception that only Slytherins were Parselmouths. My ancestor,
Virgo Black, who lived in the thirteenth century, was a Parselmouth,
though there has never been another Parselmouth in the Black
family since. Harry and I read a book written by him which was in the
library here, at the manor. Harry wanted to know why he spoke to the
snakes that attacked him and apparently, Parselmouths have some
sort of connection to snakes. He couldn't help himself. He did it
subconsciously when the snakes were about to bite him."
"Interesting," muttered Amelia