Chapter 16
September progressed, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Harry was grateful to return to run-of-the-mill Quidditch practices after the fiasco that was the first one. Wood and Flint begrudgingly reached an agreement, and the Gryffindor team got first crack at the pitch on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Getting up at dawn wasn't the greatest start to his weekend, or his Tuesdays and Thursdays, but Harry enjoyed his morning walks to practice with Hermione. Even though she was bleary-eyed and frizzy-haired, each morning she beamed at him every step of the way and they happily conversed about all matter of things.
One particular Thursday, Hermione was rambling about Mandrakes on their way to the Quidditch pitch when Harry cut her off.
"Hermione?"
"Y-yes?" She asked, surprised at his sudden interjection.
"Are you excited for your birthday on Saturday?" He asked. "I mean, obviously you're excited, but – I mean, is there anything, like…" He trailed off uncertainly, suddenly finding the stone floor fascinating.
"Are you asking me what I want for my birthday?" She asked. "Harry, that's sweet of you, but –"
"Look, last year I got you a lousy voucher for a bookstore, and for my birthday you got me the greatest gift anyone's ever given me." He frowned. "I feel bad, I ought to – "
"Harry, the voucher was perfect, please don't say that it was lousy."
"Hermione, come on, you deserve – "
"Harry – "
"I want to get you something as amazing as what you got me. It's what friends do."
"Harry, really. It's alright. No matter what you give me, I know I'll love it. I think for my birthday I wouldn't mind just spending the day with friends, enjoying their company at Hogwarts and what-not. The gifts aren't that important to me." She relented, raising her eyebrows at her friend. "I don't want you stressing about me, Harry. It's my job to stress about you."
"Yeah, yeah…" Harry muttered, smirking. "Guess I'll be getting you some Quidditch gear."
"Oh, ha-ha." She snorted, throwing an elbow into his arm. "If you do that, I'll make sure you regret it."
"Is that a threat, Granger?"
"No, not at all. It means I'll be taking your spot."
"Oh, ha-ha." It was Harry's turn to snort.
"But Harry, seriously." She stopped walking and grabbed his arm. Harry stopped too, surprised at the sudden contact. "Don't worry. Anything to do with – I mean, anything from you," she corrected, her cheeks suddenly turning pink, "will be perfect. I'm sure of it."
Harry nodded, trying to hide his smile as the gears in his head began turning overtime. The two continued their walk in a pleasant silence, until Harry reluctantly joined his teammates in the locker room while Hermione jogged up to the stands.
During a particularly grueling drill, Harry heard a familiar barrage of CLICKs from one of the top sections of the stands. Fred and George snickered and mumbled something about a Harry Potter Fan Club. For once, Harry didn't groan. For once, he turned to Colin Creevey, and he felt a smile creep across his face.
Saturday Morning
Harry hadn't slept the entire night. He knew he needed to beat Hermione to the common room, but after setting his magical alarm clock to an ungodly hour, he couldn't keep his eyes closed for more than a few seconds. His heart was racing with excitement, and every time he lifted his arm to check his watch his fingers were trembling. An hour before the sun was expected to rise, he gave up and jumped out of bed, reaching into his trunk to grab a book before dashing down the stairs.
He had been downstairs for only a few minutes before he heard gentle footsteps descending from the girls' dormitory. He'd been sitting ramrod straight on one of the scarlet couches that faced the staircases, his leg bouncing up and down with restless energy. He held his book in his lap – unopened since he'd first picked it up two days prior.
A familiar head of bushy brown hair came into view, and Harry felt his heart slow to a stop. Hermione stopped a few steps from the bottom, unable to hide her surprise.
"Harry?"
"H-hi, Her-Hermione." He stammered, awkwardly getting to his feet. "Happy birthday!" He grinned, brandishing the book towards her.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione gasped, placing her hands over her heart. "Harry!" She repeated, leaping to the bottom of the staircase and sprinting across the room like Harry-seeking missile. Harry barely managed to drop the book on the couch behind him before his best friend crashed into him at what felt like the speed of light.
"Hermione!" He gasped out, feeling like his ribs were splintering as she squeezed the life out of him.
"Harry, you didn't have to!" She cried out, pulling away for a moment before wrapping him up again.
"It's your birthday, Hermione. This is what friends do." Harry managed to choke out, weakly patting her on the back. "Friends don't usually deprive each other of oxygen though…"
"Right! Sorry." Hermione finally let go, stepping back and dusting herself off. She beamed at him, and her teeth looked particularly dazzling to Harry. "What's that?" She asked, pointing to the book he'd been holding before she practically attacked him.
Harry grinned and picked it up, extending his arms proudly. Hermione grabbed it and gazed with curiosity at the blank blue cover. She turned her eyes back to Harry.
"Is it a journal?" She asked, but before she could open it Harry pulled her to the couch. She squeaked in surprise and landed next to him on the cushions. Harry looked at her expectantly, and she gingerly opened the book to its first page. "Oh, Harry, the pictures!"
Hermione excitedly flipped through the pages, her smile growing wider with each photograph she saw. It was every photo from the trio's spur-of-the-moment session in the courtyard a few weeks prior. At Harry's request, Colin had developed them and organized them into a photo album. Hermione burst out laughing at the sight of herself rolling her eyes as Harry and Ron stuck their tongues out at her. She lingered on the Charlie's Angels imitation for a moment, then went to turn the page before seeing she'd reached the end. Harry saw his friend's face fall only for a moment, before turning back to him and brightening instantly.
"Thank you, Harry. This is amazing." She whispered. Harry shrugged.
"Then I guess I shouldn't give you the other gift…" He mused, earning a swat on the shoulder.
"What other gift? You better not have – " She stopped as Harry reached in between the cushions of the couch and pulled out another book. "You planned this whole thing, didn't you?" She huffed, trying to subdue her smile.
"I admit nothing." He smiled sheepishly before letting Hermione rip the emerald-colored album out of his hands. She hitched her breath as she opened it and saw herself and Harry staring at each other – the latter looking particularly surprised as Hermione tugged him close to her before turning to the camera. She examined picture after picture, much slower this time. Harry watched as she gently traced the outline of a photo of her placing her head on Harry's shoulder before flipping the page. He smiled to himself as she let out a serene sigh upon seeing her and Harry giggling like idiots.
"Harry, this is incredible." She whispered as she looked through the photographs of her and Harry laughing hysterically. She paused on one where she was laughing so hard she was leaning into her best friend, her back pressing against his stomach as she wiped tears of joy from her face. She inhaled sharply as Harry wrapped his arms around her, and she clutched his forearms as she cackled with unfettered happiness.
Hermione gazed at the last one for a long time. It was one Colin had taken surreptitiously, a moment she didn't even know had been immortalized in a photograph. Harry could tell from her expression that she was glad it was.
The pair had been sitting across from each other in the library, studying for a Charms Exam. Harry had asked if Hermione would look over his notes for errors, and Hermione was too absorbed in her book to even hear him. Harry asked again, and Hermione remained totally oblivious. Smirking mischievously, Harry reached his hand across the table and gingerly placed his fingers under her chin. Hermione had squeaked at the sudden contact, her cheeks doing their best impression of Gryffindor scarlet and her eyes widening in surprise. Harry gently lifted her chin so she would meet his gaze, and once he locked onto those familiar brown eyes he asked again. The bushy-haired witch finally nodded, failing to hide how flustered she was.
He couldn't stop himself from smirking at the memory, and Hermione held a similar expression as she stared at the photo of Harry gingerly cupping her chin. The room wasn't incredibly well-lit, but he could see here cheeks were just as flushed as they were in the photo.
Harry smiled in satisfaction, allowing himself to relax. 'She likes it.' He thought to himself, repeating the thought as he leaned into the couch cushions behind him. 'She likes it. She likes it. She likes it.'
"Happy birthday, Hermione." He finally sighed, a feeling of triumph washing over his body. Hermione looked up from the photos and beamed, her eyes glistening with tears. She looked back to the album and suddenly shook her head. "What's wrong?" He asked, leaning forward and directing his eyes to the book, assuming something she didn't like one of the photos.
"I just…" She sighed. "I can't believe I got you a stupid Snitch…"
"You're unbelievable, you know that?" Harry groaned. "It's your birthday, Hermione. You should be thinking about yourself and how amazing you are."
"Oh, stop it. I think you have a Quidditch practice to get to, anyway."
"As a matter of fact, I do." He grinned, leaping off the couch excitedly. "Care to accompany me, birthday girl?" He picked up his broom with one hand and held the other out to Hermione. She accepted it, her blush somehow increasing, and he pulled her to her feet. They strolled merrily across the common room to the portrait hole.
Harry didn't let go of her hand until they reached the locker rooms, where he clumsily unlaced his fingers and dusted his Quidditch jersey off.
"Well, erm, I should go in." He stammered. Hermione nodded awkwardly and stared at her shoes. Neither of them moved. "Uh, happy birthday." He added gracelessly.
"Thank you, Harry." She turned to meet his eyes. Harry felt his breath hitch, and his heart spiked at the sight of his friend's face in the early-morning light.
"There you are, Harry!" Wood boomed, throwing the door to the locker room open. Harry and Hermione jumped in surprise, and Wood grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him inside. "Been waiting on you." He grumbled before he practically threw Harry into a chair next to Katie Bell.
"Sorry…" Harry exhaled as he slumped into his seat.
Wood cut the lecture short after a few minutes, claiming it would rain soon and he wanted to use the clear weather as much as possible. Unfortunately, he didn't cut it short enough, and the entirety of the Quidditch team, plus everyone who had come out to watch was soaked by a torrent of rain within minutes of walking onto the pitch. Wood floated the possibility of practicing anyway, but over the roar of the raindrops pummeling the pitch his teammates made their opinions very clear.
"Alright, alright." Wood sighed, traipsing back to the locker rooms.
A half-hour later, Harry, liberated from his soaked Quidditch gear and dressed in Muggle clothing, descended the staircase from his dormitory into the common room. To his surprise and delight, Hermione was waiting for him in the very couch he'd occupied earlier.
"Hey birthday girl." Harry grinned as he reached the bottom of the stairs "Light reading?" He pointed to a familiar emerald-green book.
"It's certainly no Hogwarts: A History, but it's a good one." She smirked, closing the album and placing it in her bag. "Your hair is still soaked."
"Yeah, maintaining this bird's nest is kind of a lost cause – whoa!" He exclaimed as Hermione suddenly whipped her wand out and pointed it at his head. She muttered something and before he could duck in surprise he felt a jet of hot air emit from her wand into his hair. "Thanks…" He mumbled, absent-mindedly running a hand through his now-dry hair.
"Drying charm." She said triumphantly. "Breakfast?"
"Breakfast." He grinned, and the two marched to the Great Hall.
"Alright, Harry?" A meek voice called out from behind them as the pair descended a staircase. Harry turned and his face lit up.
"Hey, Colin! Thanks for doing all that, by the way. You're a brilliant photographer." The bespectacled wizard grinned. Colin stumbled and almost fell down the stairs, his body practically convulsing in sheer glee.
"Anytime!" He squeaked before dashing out of sight.
"That was nice of you to say." Hermione smiled once the first-year made his hurried exit.
"Believe it or not, sometimes I'm not the prat you make me out to be." Harry grinned. "Exhibit A." He added as the two entered the Great Hall. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.
Seamus and Dean were each holding poles and standing about eight feet apart, grinning from ear to ear. Hermione stared at the banner held aloft by the two poles, more specifically the words painted in scarlet and gold: Happy Birthday Hermione!
"Was this you?" She whispered as Harry guided her towards the Gryffindor table, where the entirety of their house was applauding.
"Nobody really needed much encouragement seeing as you're the reason we won the House Cup last year." He responded with a wink. Hermione blushed, and sheepishly took her seat between Harry and Pavarti. A chorus of birthday greetings rang out, accompanied by wide smiles and a shower of gifts.
"You guys didn't have to do this – "
"Nobody's more deserving of something like this than you, Hermione." Lavender interjected, handing her a box of chocolates. Hermione stammered something incoherent and blushingly took the gift, a small smile pulling at her lips.
Everyone in the Great Hall – save the Slytherins – seemed to be in a tremendously good mood. The Gryffindor table in particular was loud and cheerful, and as everyone dug into breakfast the second-years began recounting their favorite memories of the birthday girl.
"Definitely when you knocked out that troll!" Neville mused.
"I'm more of a fan of when you set Snape on fire." Ron grinned.
"I'd be lying if it wasn't getting all those points last year. To win the House Cup." Pavarti playfully nudged Hermione. "My sister's in Ravenclaw and even she was ecstatic."
"I want to hear Harry's favorite memory of Hermione." Lavender said suddenly, placing her chin in her hands and turning to him expectantly. The other Gryffindors followed suit. Harry felt his eyes widen and his stomach drop to the floor.
"W-what?" Harry asked, unsteadily gulping down some pumpkin juice. Lavender just waggled her eyebrows. "Oh. Erm…" He paused, sorting through every moment he'd spent with his best friend for a favorite.
"Earth to Harry!" Seamus smirked, flicking a grape into Harry's cheek.
"All of them." He said suddenly. He felt his cheeks heat up and quickly picked up his goblet to take a sip, even though it was empty.
"How sweet…" Lavender sighed, her eyes flickering between Harry and Hermione.
"Oh, erm, I have to use the loo!" He stammered, hurriedly getting up and looking anywhere except towards the bushy-haired girl next to him. "I'll be right back." He managed before hastily marching out of the Great Hall, his face still hot.
He decided it was worth actually going to the bathroom, if only to splash some water on his face and return his cheeks to a normal color. He couldn't shake the image of Lavender's eyebrows waggling at him, as if he were supposed to pick up on something. He was so distracted he almost walked into a wall, catching himself before continuing on his way. He had just ascended a staircase when it happened. He felt an icy chill slithering down his spine, and every cell in his body felt as if it had been injected with venom.
"Harry, you look pale. Are you alright?" Professor Lockhart suddenly emerged from around a corner, looking pensive.
"Shh!" Harry hissed, straining his ears, his eyes scanning the Great Hall.
"My dear boy, I know you think you're famous, but you can't just – "
"Shh!" He repeated, much fiercer. Not sticking around to see Lockhart's reaction, Harry took off to follow what he thought he'd heard.
He bolted out of the corridor and ascended another staircase, cupping a hand to his ear. Harry didn't care if Lockhart thought he was a prat. Harry didn't even care about Lavender's weird look. Suddenly, Harry didn't care about anything other than the cause of his sudden unease. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, sprinting down the labyrinth of corridors and up and down multiple flights of stairs. The harder he ran, the more he listened, the more he realized he wasn't mishearing anything:
"Come... come to me...Let me rip you…Let me tear you…Let me kill you..."
Chapter 17
"We need to talk."
Harry instantly thought of everything he'd done wrong over the past twelve years, and felt sweat bead up on his forehead. He looked up from his half-completed Potions essay to see Hermione Granger staring at him interrogatively, her hands on her hips and her features deadly serious enough for him to drop his quill in shock. She cocked her head expectantly and Harry's mind began racing.
'She knows I copied off of her that one time in Transfiguration last year. No, she knows I accidentally took that Herbology book from the library without checking it out. No, this is about staring at her in the Forest of Dean. No, this is about…oh forget it. Just let her murder you.'
"About what?" He asked, trying desperately to sound calm. Based on Ron's snickering, he guessed he wasn't succeeding. Much to Harry's relief, his bushy-haired friend whirled on the redhead with narrowed eyes.
"You too." She glowered. Ron's laughter died in his throat, and he meekly closed the History of Magic textbook he'd been pretending to read.
"Hermione, it's Halloween. It's a Saturday. Harry's done with Quidditch. Everyone is relaxing ahead of the Halloween feast, so let me guess – you want to go to…" Ron trailed off, crossing his arms and looking to Hermione expectantly.
"The library." She sighed dejectedly, looking down as Harry and Ron exchanged smirks. "But hear me out!" She whipped her head up, her expression shifting to one of austerity once again. "Harry, we need to talk about what's been happening to you." She sat down on one of the armrests on Harry's chair, who still was looking at his half-completed History of Magic essay with feigned interest.
"Mate, as much as it pains me to say this," Ron suddenly grinned, "Hermione's right." The witch rolled her eyes, but didn't comment. "You said you heard voices that Lockhart or anyone else you passed didn't seem to hear. That's not something you should take lightly."
"I don't think Lockhart hears anything if it's not outright brown-nosing." Harry joked, turning his eyes back to his essay. He glanced up to see neither of his friends were amused. "Fine. And to be clear, it's not voices plural. I heard once voice, clear as day. It was like nails on a chalkboard, but worse."
"You're sure it was the same voice over and over? You weren't just picking up on a conversation between a couple of school ghosts?" Ron asked.
"Positive."
"Look, I say we go to the library, browse around about wizards who have heard voices – "
"Hermione, that's just going to be an afternoon of reading about total loonies. That's not what's happening to me!" Harry griped, his tone much sharper than he intended. Hermione winced, and he instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry. That was a bit much. But I need you guys to believe me, I'm not going crazy."
"Harry, of course we believe you." Hermione whispered, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.
"Who says I can't believe you and think you're mental, anyway?" Ron asked, his goofy smile returning. Harry couldn't help but snort. "The library's closer to the Great Hall anyway. From there we can get to the food faster than anyone else, I reckon."
"Do you ever think about anything other than food?" Hermione sighed dramatically as the trio got to their feet.
"Sometimes he talks about Quidditch. But I reckon he's still thinking about food while he does." Harry was now grinning, and Ron shrugged good-naturedly.
"I see nothing wrong with my priorities." He winked, and just like that, they were off to the library, joking and laughing amongst themselves. It was almost as if Harry hadn't been hearing that strange voice, or repeating its vague threats in his mind ever since he first heard them. Everything felt natural and normal for a blissful few minutes.
They were only a few feet from the entrance when the ghost of Nearly Headless Nick floated by, muttering to himself. At the sight of the three students he perked up rather excitedly. "Hello, children! Enjoying your Halloween?" They nodded awkwardly as the ghost sighed almost wistfully. "It's the anniversary of my death today. Five-hundred years to the day, can you believe that?" Harry barely resisted the urge to cringe at his remark. It seemed like a rather ghastly thing to think about, alive or dead.
"You ought to celebrate something big like that!" Ron joked. Harry and Hermione groaned, expecting their friend to have horribly offended their house's ghost.
"Oh, I am celebrating!"
"You are?" The trio said incredulously.
"Oh yes, I'm having a death-day party in the dungeons. I'd invite the three of you, but it appears you're on your way to the library. Studies come before leisure, it's been five centuries since I was in school and I still know that much."
"Right, leisure." Ron muttered, earning an elbow from Hermione.
"Thanks for your offer, Sir Nicholas, but we really should be getting in there. And, erm, happy death-day?" Harry added uncertainly. As soon as he said it he realized it was probably a crude remark, but the ghost beamed at him.
"Thank you very much, Harry Potter! Such kind words. Take care now!" The phantom mused before floating down the corridor.
After mercifully concluding their conversation with Nearly Headless Nick, they walked into the library and claimed a table in a back corner, away from the prying eyes of their fellow students and Madam Pince. Ron offered to look in the Invisibility Section while Harry and Hermione opted to peruse the shelves dedicated to magical creatures.
"You really think it's some talking invisible monster that I'm hearing?" Harry asked as Hermione yanked a book off the shelf and added it to the pile Harry held in his arms.
"I don't know, Harry. But we're going to try everything. I'm going to try everything." She pulled another ancient-looking tome out of a stack before turning back to Harry. "It's Halloween, you know."
"Wow, really?" Harry asked with a smirk. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You remember what happened on Halloween?"
"Blimey, Hermione if you think this voice has anything to do with my parents being murdered – "
"How are you this dense?" Hermione fumed, hitting him in the shoulder with the book she held. Harry winced, and dust actually flew from the dated pages. "I'm not talking about your hearing voices right now. And I'm not talking about your parents, either."
Harry raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in confusion. Hermione lifted the book to hit him again before he remembered.
"Oh! Wait, wait don't hit me!" He gingerly moved backwards. "The troll. Of course I remember. Sorry, just, I've been thinking about pretty serious things lately. Hearing a voice threaten to kill makes one think more morbid thoughts, that's all. Obviously I remember what happened last year."
"You've been thinking about serious things? And you don't think us almost getting murdered by a troll is serious?" She asked, her tone now more amused than anything.
"Murdered? I think I had that troll sorted just fine. Didn't need you to come waltzing out from under the sink to steal my thunder." Harry grinned. "I'd done a perfectly good job of sticking my wand up that brute's nose. I'm sure I would have had it begging for mercy in no time."
"Uh-huh." Hermione placed the book she was clutching in the stack Harry held and crossed her arms. He could tell from her self-satisfied expression she was recalling him being flung around like a ragdoll before she'd saved the day.
"Anyway…" Harry broke the silence that was making him increasingly uncomfortable. "Why did you bring that up?" He asked tentatively. He, Ron, and Hermione had made a point of not mentioning the incident or any events before that day. Ron's cruelties had made her life miserable, something all of them were eager to leave undiscussed since the redhead's turnaround.
"Just thinking. About how much things have changed…" She sighed, turning back to the shelves. "This time last year I had one friend. Obviously he's a great friend, my best friend, and he means the world to me." Harry was grateful Hermione's eyes were directed in the opposite direction of his blushing face. "Now, I've got all of our year in Gryffindor as friends. Great friends, at that. Great enough to defend me from a certain little brat in Slytherin. And not to mention the fact that I had everyone in our house – including people I've never even met – celebrating my birthday."
"At this rate the Hufflepuffs will be organizing your birthday party by fifth-year." Harry offered. He heard Hermione chuckle quietly, but she didn't turn.
"It's nice. Having friends like this. And looking back on Halloween…it feels like a turning point – I'd always had you, but after that day Ron managed to start tolerating me. And from then I at least acquainted myself with everyone in our year, and now suddenly I've got Pavarti Patil threatening to jinx Malfoy off the Astronomy Tower for me. And Lavender, and Dean, and all of them."
Harry noticed her voice was wavering with emotion by the time she finished speaking. Clumsily adjusting himself so he was balancing the pile of books Hermione had gathered in one arm, he pulled out his wand and muttered a familiar incantation. He levitated the books carefully and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder.
"I take it that it's a new feeling for you too." Harry whispered. He heard Hermione inhale sharply, as if trying to repress a sob. She nodded after a pause. Harry gave a sad smile, even if she couldn't see it, and squeezed her shoulder gently. Slowly, she turned until Harry could see her brown eyes were sparkling with tears. Harry didn't hesitate and pulled her into a hug. It wasn't bone-crushing like Hermione's usually were, but it was still full of emotion and comfort. It was gentle, almost tender. He wanted to communicate just how much he wanted to be there for her without squeezing the life out of her and sending her running.
After a few moments he felt Hermione slowly even her breath as she kept her face buried in his shoulder. "I know how you feel." Harry whispered, resting his chin on her mane of bushy-brown hair contentedly.
"You've said that a few times by now." Hermione chuckled into his robe. "You should get some new material."
"Not if it works every time." He responded, softly tightening his arms around his best friend. She sighed, and the pair stood in peaceful silence, only broken by the occasional sniffle from Hermione. "So, will you be crying every Halloween?" He finally asked. "I just want to know now, so I can bring tissues next time." He smirked as Hermione pulled away so he could see her roll her eyes.
"Sarcastic Harry is a prat." She huffed before grabbing the pile of books that was currently hovering next to them. "I believe we came here to do some research." She said matter-of-factly before marching off to the table. Just like that, she was business as usual. Harry shook his head at the sudden change in demeanor and followed her, unable to suppress a smile.
The trio spent an agonizing hour poring over all kinds of texts. Ron and Hermione occasionally chimed in to ask if whatever they were reading about applied to what Harry heard, but he shook his head every time. It wasn't until Ron distractedly checked his watch they realized the Halloween Feast had begun without them. Ron grumbled sarcastically as they hurriedly returned their books and dashed out of the library.
"Oh, sorry Ronald, but can we please take a detour?" Hermione suddenly asked, stopping in her tracks.
"Why?" Harry asked, perplexed. Hermione's expression was one of anxiety, and he thought about taking her hand. She just shook her head and pointed to a door a few paces ahead of them. "What's in there?" He asked. Hermione shook her head again and motioned to turn around. Harry and Ron sighed before obliging.
"There better be a good reason for me missing out on the dancing skeletons…" Ron scowled. Hermione let out a shaky breath before she began explaining her sudden panic.
"That door I pointed to is the girls' bathroom. It's the bathroom that Moaning Myrtle haunts."
"Who's Moaning Myrtle? Why do they call her that?" Ron's tone lightened significantly for the second question, but a glare from Hermione vanquished all mature (or immature, depending on how you feel) thoughts from his mind.
"She's a ghost, and she haunts that bathroom. It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to, you know, with her wailing at you – "
"Loud and clear." Harry interjected, very much interested in changing the conversation to anything besides what happened in the girls' toilets.
"Alright, well, it's just up this staircase and to the left, right? That'll take us to the main staircase to the Great Hall." Hermione sighed, and the pair of boys nodded and they began ascending.
"Rip…tear…kill…" Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in fear.
"What's the matter with you?" Ron asked. "You're all pale, are you that hungry?" Harry shook his head, feeling a familiar icy chill envelope his entire body. He suddenly found himself hyper-ventilating as he whipped his head around.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, gingerly putting a hand on his arm.
"Please…" Harry gasped out. "Please tell me you heard that." He saw Ron and Hermione exchange uneasy glances. "Guys?"
"Is it the voice?" Hermione asked, her eyes darkening with concern. Harry didn't answer, now straining his ears once again.
"So hungry…for so long…"
"Listen to it! Don't you hear it?" Harry cried out. His friends now looked more worried than he'd ever seen them. "It's moving away, come one!"
Without waiting for a response, he began sprinting up the stairs, listening intently for the venomous voice he'd been thinking about for weeks.
"Kill…time to kill…"
Harry clutched the stone wall next to him, his heart now beating hard enough for him to feel it across his entire body. Someone was going to kill something, and he had to stop it. He took off again, his friends close behind begging for him to stop.
"I smell blood…" He heard faintly. His stomach flip-flopped and he felt his breath hitch in horror.
"It's going to kill someone!" Harry cried out, which only worried Ron and Hermione even more. "It's going to kill…" Harry stopped as he rounded a corner and faced a deserted passageway. His heart sank.
Even though the corridor was dimly lit, he could see ahead enough to spot a familiar-looking feline hanging from one of the hall's torch brackets. Mrs. Norris – Argus Filch's cat – looked dead as a doornail - she wasn't moving at all.
"Why's she all stiff like that?" Ron muttered, and the trio inched forward. Hermione gasped and leapt backwards as her foot splashed a puddle that stretched all the way to underneath the unnervingly still cat.
Harry caught sight of an unsettling color daubed upon the stone walls, and wordlessly pointed to what it spelled:
The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, Beware.
"We should go." Hermione whispered. Ron nodded and wordlessly began speed-walking away from the scene. Harry stared at the cat for a moment, wondering if the voice he'd heard was its killer when Hermione grabbed him by the hand. "Harry, we can't be caught here. Let's go tell a Professor."
She led him away, practically white-knuckled in her grip on Harry's hand as they caught up with Ron just outside the library. Before any of them could speak, a tremendous rumble rang out from below them.
"Oh no…" Hermione whispered as their fellow students marched past them towards their various common rooms. They were on a collision course for the cat and the writing on the wall. Unsure of what to do, Harry grabbed each of his friends by the arm and they slid into the crowd to try and avoid distinguishing themselves.
"Act surprised." He hissed to Ron and Hermione. They nodded, and directed their eyes forward. It was a few more seconds before they heard the first scream. The throng of people around them suddenly began sprinting towards the bloodcurdling shriek, and the trio were forced to run in order to avoid being trampled.
Harry found himself being pushed forward as the crowd gathered around Mrs. Norris until he was practically standing in the puddle. Everyone was staring at either Mrs. Norris or the words smeared along the wall for all to see.
"Enemies of the heir, beware!" A familiar voice sneered near Harry. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!" Malfoy taunted as he turned to Hermione, who had materialized at Harry's side. Harry felt rage boil in his veins again and he – along with a few others – whipped out his wand and aimed it at the pale Slytherin's face.
"Wand down, Mr. Potter!" A stern voice cried out. Professor McGonagall stormed over, followed closely by the Headmaster and a few other faculty members. When Harry refused to move his wand from between Malfoy's eyes she forcefully grabbed his wrist and jerked it downwards.
"Save it for the Quidditch match." She whispered in a voice only Harry could hear, and the boy wizard barely suppressed his smile.
"He just brandished it like he was going to jinx me, Professor, you must – " Malfoy spouted before McGonagall held up a hand.
"Your remarks were heard by everyone, Mister Malfoy. Severus?" McGonagall asked, her voice devoid of all emotion as she turned expectantly to the head of Slytherin. The Potions professor flickered his eyes between Malfoy, McGonagall, and surprisingly, Hermione.
"Detention, Draco. I believe Mr. Filch will need some assistance cleaning the Hogwarts trophy room this evening." Snape uttered, his tone unflinching. Malfoy sputtered in surprise, but looked to the ground dejectedly. Harry vowed to make the slimeball's life miserable when they played in Quidditch next weekend.
Dumbledore suddenly walked briskly through the crowd, with Filch hot on his heels. After the caretaker let out an ugly wail at the sight of Mrs. Norris, Dumbledore gingerly removed her from the bracket.
"Petrified..." He said quietly, so only those closest to him and the cat could hear. It didn't take long for the whispers to spread to the back. "Was anyone here when this attack occurred?" The Headmaster asked, calmly surveying the room. "Does anyone have any information that they would like…" His eyes landed on Harry, and the boy wizard felt his stomach plummet to the floor as Dumbledore stared at him. "…to share."
Harry suddenly remembered an unsettling line from when he and Hermione spoke in the Headmaster's office the previous year: "I don't need a cloak to become invisible." Harry wondered silently if Dumbledore knew about the voice he'd heard, and thought about revealing it before a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Potter here wasn't in the Great Hall for the feast. Neither were Weasley and the Mu – and Granger." Malfoy spat venomously, turning to look at Harry.
"You're the one who seems to know that Muggle-Borns are in danger. Care to tell us how you know that?" Ron retorted.
"Silence, Weasley." Snape suddenly cut in before Malfoy could launch a barrage of financial-based insults. "Young Mister Malfoy was in the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast with the rest of his schoolmates. The entirety of the student body was present with the exception of you, Potter, and Granger. Care to explain that?" He asked, his sneer rivalling Malfoy's. He turned to Harry, his eyes filled with malice. Harry's nails were dangerously close to drawing blood as he clenched his hand into a fist.
"I was in the library." He said through gritted teeth.
"Why?"
"Because I'm a good student. Studies come before leisure." He added, his tone shifting to one of defiance. He didn't have to turn to know Hermione was rolling her eyes at his reference.
"Quite right." McGonagall interjected before the tense standoff escalated. "It's clear that Mister Weasley, Miss Granger, and most importantly Madam Pince will likely vouch for Mister Potter's whereabouts this evening, Severus." The Transfiguration instructor threw a tense glare towards her colleague. "Albus, it appears unnecessary to ask if any of our students were capable of such a heinous act as what we're looking at. I especially won't tolerate it against members of my own House. What happened to Mrs. Norris is clearly advanced far beyond what is taught here at Hogwarts."
'So it's Dark Magic…' Harry thought uneasily as McGonagall's features hardened at her last sentence.
"I agree Minerva." The Headmaster sighed, his eyes glancing between Harry and the cat. "I simply wished to know if anyone had any knowledge of our dear friend Mrs. Norris that they were willing to disclose." Harry pursed his lips as Dumbledore gazed in his direction once again, feeling as if his mind was being read. "It's late. Prefects, if you will escort the students back to their common rooms at once."
Harry tried to hide his relief as he, Ron, and Hermione turned to walk towards Gryffindor Tower. They moved slowly, hoping the corridor would empty of their fellow students so they could talk.
"Do you reckon this is what that bloody elf was talking about?" Ron whispered worriedly. Harry saw Hermione grimace, and he shrugged uneasily.
"I guess so. It's hard to believe there'd be some other danger at Hogwarts besides someone running around petrifying stuff."
"And you two made him stop trying to help you?" Ron asked incredulously.
"I wish he would have told us more about this. Maybe he knows what the Chamber of Secrets is, if it's even real." Hermione wondered out loud, ignoring Ron's comment.
Harry wasn't worried about Dobby, however. Once again he found himself worrying about the voice he'd heard. It was too close to the scene of the crime to even consider that they were unrelated. "Should I have said something to Dumbledore? About the voice?"
"No," said Ron, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."
Something in Ron's voice made Harry ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"
"Of course I believe you, you prat." Ron grinned. "But – you have to admit, it's certainly not normal…"
"Definitely not normal. Next time we're in the library we should keep reading up and trying to figure out what you're hearing. And we should read about the Chamber of Secrets, whatever that is." Hermione added, her voice faltering as she finished. Harry felt his heart shrink in on itself. It was clear she was replaying Malfoy's words in her mind.
"Don't worry, Hermione. McGonagall told me to let Malfoy have it in the match next week." Harry gently took his dejected-looking friend's hands. "And you know none of us are going to let anyone hurt you."
She nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek. The trio continued back to the common room, Ron with his arm thrown casually around Harry's shoulders, trying to lighten the tension as he joked about Mrs. Norris, while Harry laced his fingers through Hermione's, occasionally squeezing her hand. He was happy to see that she beamed at him every time he tightened his grip, no matter how morose her expression had been a moment prior.
Harry went to bed that night and dreamt pleasant visions of bashing Draco Malfoy's face in with a Beater's bat while Hermione cheered vigorously from the stands above.
Chapter 18:
A sharp whistle rocketed past Harry's ear, sending the hair on his forehead fluttering. He grimaced as he looked over his shoulder, and saw a black iron ball zooming away from him. Until, as it had for the past fifteen minutes, it careened in mid-air and began accelerating back in his direction.
Gryffindor was playing Slytherin in the school year's inaugural Quidditch match. Despite the pouring rain, every student was packed into the stands. Even those particularly unenthused by the most popular sport at Hogwarts had shown up, because everyone wanted to see just how fast the Slytherin's Nimbus Two Thousand and One broomsticks actually were.
Gryffindor was losing by sixty points, so, they were pretty damn fast. Harry was mad. So mad he wanted to snap his broomstick into pieces. But the score wasn't the worst thing about the match. A rogue Bludger had been targeting him from the moment Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Every ten seconds he'd been forced to dodge, dip, duck, dive, and dodge to avoid having his head taken off by the clearly bewitched ball. Gryffindor had been forced to call time-out, and every team member with the exception of Wood and Harry demanded the match be forfeited in favor of their star Seeker not dying. Harry and Wood had refused to concede, especially to Slytherin, and the match resumed – much to their teammates' dismay.
So Harry was being chased across the pitch by a Bludger that wanted his head to be detached from his body. Now, Harry was angry. So angry he could barely restrain himself from roaring in rage every time he heard that sharp whistle indicating his inanimate attacker was nearby. But the Bludger wasn't the worst thing about the match. Somehow.
The real worst thing about the match was Slytherin's Seeker. Most importantly, it was something he'd yelled to Harry just before the match had begun. Harry had been surveying the packed stands while his teammates were warming up, and grinned suddenly when he caught sight of the Gryffindor student section.
They were completely, utterly rambunctious. Harry was certain that they could be heard across the Atlantic Ocean. The wooden scaffolding beneath them was practically shaking and the entire structure was literally rocking. But as amusing as it was to see the House of McGonagall raging with unparalleled intensity, he wasn't grinning because of that.
He'd spotted a familiar mane of bushy brown hair bouncing up and down in the front row. As much as Hermione – albeit sarcastically – taunted him over Quidditch, she had yet to miss one of his games. Or practices, for that matter. Harry knew she abhorred crowds. Harry knew she abhorred loud noises. Harry knew Hermione Granger would abhor the concept of standing amongst the throng of rowdy Gryffindors at that very moment.
Yet there she stood, cheering with more ferocity than any of her peers. In the pouring rain, in the middle of a deafening swarm of students, she was there. For him. And Harry couldn't help but smile. Until…
"You've got a game to play, Scarhead. Actually, you've got a game to lose!" Malfoy sneered as he gracefully drifted around on his new broom. "You should stop checking out your pet Mudblood and get ready!"
Something indescribable snapped inside of Harry. It was like every vein in his body had been injected with liquid rage. Now, he was furious. So furious he was ready to knock Malfoy off of his broom and beat him to death with his own Nimbus Two Thousand and One. The blonde's insult against Hermione was the worst thing about the match. It rang around in Harry's head even as he zipped around the entirety of the Quidditch pitch, barely evading the Bludger. It echoed in his brain during the time-out Gryffindor had called – instead of focusing on whatever strategy Wood had explained, he'd been replaying the one word he'd grown to hate over the last two months.
So now, the boy wizard was flying at breakneck speeds, acting solely on instincts every time the cursed Bludger came within striking distance. He scanned the pitch for any sign of the Golden Snitch, rocketing around the perimeter of the field within spitting distance of the stands. As he came closer to the student body, the dejection of everyone not wearing green and silver became more apparent. The chants of "Go, go, Gryffindor!" were a frail whisper compared to what they'd been prior to the start of the match. Most had given up on cheering altogether, and those that were seemed desultory at best. Except one.
"Go Harry!" A voice he'd recognize from anywhere shouted at the top of her lungs. Harry couldn't suppress his smile upon hearing Hermione's cheers. She was clapping fiercely, her face lit up as he flew close by. "Go Harry!" She yelled again, practically leaning over the railing. Harry felt his anger at Malfoy, at Slytherin, at the Bludger almost melt away. He turned towards her voice, hoping to meet her eyes for some inexplicable reason. Her voice that was carrying over the wind, over the sharp whistle of the incoming Bludger.
'The Bludger!' Harry thought in a panic, whipping his head around just in time to watch the iron sphere crash into his arm at a hundred kilometers per hour. A sickening crack echoed across the stadium, followed by a deathly silence. Harry lay clutching his broom with his left hand, staring confusedly at his right arm that was dangling uselessly to the side.
Then he heard Hermione scream. Then several others followed suit. It was so sudden and so shrill he barely managed to dodge the Bludger as it roared back, clearly not satisfied with shattering half the bones in Harry's arm. The Seeker grimaced, turning to watch the Bludger race towards him once again.
If Harry was flying on instincts before, he was now flying on total muscle memory. Barely able to see straight through the rain and the excruciating pain in his arm, he haphazardly flew himself away from the stands and towards the middle of the pitch.
"Need to go home, Potter?" Malfoy sneered as he casually did a barrel roll next to Harry, not worried in the slightest about the Bludger. "Need your mum to kiss your arm and make it feel better?"
Harry whirled around to face the Slytherin, hoping to send him flying into the Great Lake after unleashing a string of swears that would make a sailor blush. But before he could even open his mouth, a glint of gold flashed just above Malfoy's ear.
"Game over, Malfoy." Harry managed to spit out, still groaning from pain as he flew straight towards the blonde, his arm outstretched. Before Malfoy could even react, Harry closed his fingers around the Snitch and held it tightly. He whirled his broom around, hoping to show the entirety of the stadium that he had caught the Snitch.
It just so happened that Harry's broom collided with Malfoy, sending the blonde screaming towards the Quidditch pitch. The drop was only a few meters, fortunately.
'Unfortunately…' Harry thought triumphantly as he slowly descended to the ground. The moment his feet touched the green grass, however, every bit of pain in his arm came roaring back. He staggered, his vision growing hazier by the second. He took one last glance at the gleaming ball of gold in his hand and grinned before he fainted.
Harry woke half an hour later in the Hospital Wing to an irate Madam Pomfrey. He had scarcely blinked open his eyes before the nurse launched into a tirade about unsafe games for children, and how Harry could be so moronic as to let himself keep playing with a rogue Bludger. She berated him for a few minutes before storming off to her office. Once the verbal assault was over, Harry managed to gather his surroundings well enough – he was in a bed fairly close to the Hospital Wing doors, with several people surrounding him. He met the eyes of his teammates, who were all shaking their heads in disbelief. Except Wood, who was beaming with pride.
"Brilliant flying, Harry. Truly. Catching the Snitch with a broken arm is definitely one for the books!" The Captain went to clap him on the shoulder before Katie Bell slapped his arm. Wood threw a look to Harry's right side and grimaced before stepping back.
"You're an idiot." Alicia Spinnet sighed.
"Really, incredibly stupid." Angelina Johnson echoed.
"But you make up for it with those gorgeous eyes!" Fred grinned. When nobody laughed, he quickly directed his eyes to the floor. "Just trying to diffuse the tension. Obviously he's a halfwit for playing with that bloody Bludger." He uttered dejectedly.
"I'd appreciate it if you all would stop insulting your teammate." A voice admonished from Harry's left. He turned and felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He expected a sentence like that to come out of Wood's mouth, but not the mouth of Hermione Granger.
She was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, her fingers laced with his as she glared at the scarlet-clad players that surrounded her.
"You're saying you're perfectly fine with the fact that he kept playing with a death wish instead of forfeiting?" Katie asked incredulously. "You? Of all people?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" The bushy haired witch shot back, her eyes narrowing and her cheeks reddening. Katie just raised her hands in mock surrender, raising her eyebrows as she stepped back. "Obviously I wish he had stopped the match, but belittling him while he lies in the Hospital Wing missing thirty-three bones doesn't do him much good, does it?"
"Wha – did you say missing?" Harry asked with a snort. "Hermione, don't be ridiculous, I broke my arm, I'm not missing…" He trailed off when he looked at his right arm. The arm that was supposed to be broken. "What the hell?" He asked, staring in confusion at the fleshy lump attached to his shoulder that loosely resembled an arm.
"Lockhart butchered a spell. Said he was trying to heal you, but he ended up removing every bone in your arm instead." George Weasley smirked. "Claimed it was an accident that happens all the time. The man's a joke."
"At least it's not broken anymore, right?" Fred snorted. "Mission accomplished, if you ask me."
"Lockhart did this?" Harry whispered, more to himself than anything.
"You should have seen Hermione." Angelina was smirking at the brown-eyed witch. "She ran straight from the stands when you hit the ground. Got to you right after Lockhart did away with half your skeleton and completely unleashed on him."
"We all thought she was going to hex him into next week!" Alicia giggled. "I've never seen anyone so angry. Madam Hooch and I actually had to restrain her. She put up a good fight, though…" She held up her left arm and pulled back the sleeve of her Quidditch robes to reveal a purple bruise on her forearm.
Harry turned to Hermione, unable to hide his amusement. His best friend had buried her face in her hands, but her blush was still visible to everyone. "I'm so sorry, Alicia!" She mumbled embarrassedly. Alicia just waved her off, clearly more entertained than anything.
"If we lost I might be mad. But your idiot best friend here won us the match somehow, so we're off to the party in the common room. Feel better, Harry. We're glad you're not, you know. Dead." She grinned, and slowly the Gryffindor Quidditch team got to their feet and departed.
"We'll send Ron over with a bunch of food from the party." Fred winked before the Weasley Twins joined their teammates. Harry turned and saw it was just him and a still-flustered Hermione left in the Hospital Wing.
"Where is everyone?" He asked. Hermione slowly lifted her head from her hands and turned to him.
"Madam Pomfrey didn't want anyone here, but she made an exception for the Quidditch team since it was a Quidditch injury. But she didn't hesitate to send Ron and Seamus and all of them out the door." Hermione chuckled, and Harry couldn't help but grin at the vision of the Hogwarts nurse dragging the redhead out of the Hospital Wing with her trademark irate expression on her face.
"Since when did you join the Quidditch team?" Harry asked. "Or did you unleash on Madam Pomfrey too?"
"Oh, hush!" Hermione clearly wanted to sound stern, but it came out as a small squeak more than anything. "I simply insisted on being here. And I didn't unleash on Lockhart, they're exaggerating." She added indignantly. "I simply told him that it was unwise to perform such a complicated spell rather than leave it to Madam Pomfrey."
"And Alicia's bruise? Was that exaggerated?"
"I liked you better when you were unconscious…" Hermione muttered, her cheeks turning crimson once again. "I was just worried about you, you know. Clearly you'd been hurt badly by the Bludger and Lockhart made it worse. Naturally I was upset."
"Naturally." Harry didn't even attempt to subdue a playful smile as his friend's cheeks somehow turned redder. "You know why I knocked Malfoy off his broom?" He asked, his sly expression disappearing as his tone turned serious.
"Because you've hated him since that day on the Hogwarts Express?"
"He called you it again. During warm-ups I was looking at the Gryffindor student section and I saw you all cheering. You especially." Hermione's cheeks somehow turned even redder. "He saw me grinning like it was Christmas morning at you." Harry involuntarily clenched his fist, and Hermione lay her hand over it. Feeling some of his anger dissipate, he continued. "He told me to stop checking out my…pet that word."
Hermione bristled, but didn't say anything for a minute. Harry wasn't sure how she'd react not only to her being called that word again, or how she'd react to him blatantly trying to hurt another student.
"You did it for me?" She finally asked, her voice barely over a whisper. Harry nodded. She inhaled sharply, looking to the ground. Harry pulled his good hand out from under Hermione's and placed it on top, gently rubbing the back of her hand.
"You know, I heard you cheering. You were louder than everyone, even when we were getting pulverized." Hermione slowly lifted her head, a small smile pulling at her lips.
"Just cheering for my house. It's what a good Gryffindor does."
"I didn't hear you say 'Go Gryffindor', though. I think I heard 'Go Harry'." He smirked, doing his best to look smug as he lay in a hospital bed with one functioning arm.
"Well, don't let it get to your head." She huffed sarcastically, her smile growing by the second.
"Too late. You care about me. Sucker."
"Oh, honestly!" She turned to the ceiling and threw her hands up in defeat. "I don't know how you came to be such a prat."
"I had a good teacher. You'd love her, her name's Professor Granger, and she –"
"That's it, I'm breaking your other arm!" She glowered, but the carefree brightness in her eyes betrayed her. "I'm glad you're doing alright, even if it means you're back to sarcastic Harry." The pair shared smiles at that, and Harry instinctively squeezed Hermione's hand.
"Thanks for coming to see me." Harry blurted before he could stop himself, and Hermione's smile widened. She opened her mouth to say something, but a stern voice rang out across the Hospital Wing.
"Mister Potter!" Madam Pomfrey marched over to his bed from her office. Hermione squeaked and blushed once again, instinctively sitting on her hands. "You'll need to drink this. Assuming it doesn't come back up you'll be ready to leave tomorrow morning." She poured a foul-looking liquid into a glass. Harry spotted the words Skele-Gro on the bottle before she thrust the glass into his hand. "Drink up. And no more visitors. Growing bones is a gruesome process."
"But, Ron's coming back with food from – "
"The only thing you'll be consuming for the rest of the day, Mister Potter, is what's in that glass. Miss Granger, I'm sure you've helped Harry settle in, but it's time for you to go. Up, up!" She shepherded Hermione off the bed and towards the door. Harry caught her eye, and she offered a small smile and a feeble wave before the nurse shut the doors. Harry was barely able to swallow the Skele-Gro without coughing it back up, and once he did he laid back to stare at the ceiling in silence.
He wasn't sure when he fell asleep. He wasn't sure when he woke up. But it was dark outside when he blinked his eyes open, and the Hospital Wing was only lit by the slivers of moonlight that spilled onto the floor from the tall windows that lined the East and West walls.
Harry looked around to see what may have interrupted his sleep. After glancing at the nearby beds, the doors, and the windows, he found nothing strange. There was no sign of movement, no sounds, no nothing. He was alone in the darkness.
"Sorry to wake you!" A voice suddenly whispered from his left. He jumped, and barely suppressed a pained yelp as his right arm prickled in pain. He realized his bones were well on their way to growing back, but the process was anything but easy. He looked around towards the source of the noise but didn't see anything. Then, he sighed.
"Please tell me you didn't break into my dormitory to steal it, Hermione." He snickered as he fell back onto his pillow. He heard a small giggle before his best friend suddenly materialized out of thin air, a familiar silvery cloak clutched in her hands.
"I admit nothing." She responded meekly. "How's your arm?" She asked, folding the Invisibility Cloak and placing it on the bed next to Harry.
"Oh, peachy. Except for the part where it hurts, which is everywhere."
"You get very sarcastic when you're injured, you know that?" She sighed dramatically as she sat on the edge of Harry's bed, gingerly taking his functional hand in hers. "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you, Harry. They still don't know what happened with the Bludger. I heard McGonagall and Hooch bickering about it on my way back to the common room after Pomfrey kicked me out. McGonagall threatened to cancel Quidditch if it happened again."
"What? She can't cancel Quidditch, right?" Harry asked, partially amused and partially bewildered.
"I'm sure the school would riot if they did. And I'm sure that you, Ron, and Wood would be on the frontlines of it all."
"Probably." Harry mused, picturing himself waving a Gryffindor flag in the Great Hall like the painting of Liberty Leading the People. He suddenly had an interesting thought. "Who would you side with?" He asked. Hermione's smile vanished, replaced by a look of surprise.
"I, well – I mean, you know…" She stammered, clearly not expecting the question.
"You'd side with the teacher. Like always." Harry playfully nudged Hermione, but her flabbergasted expression suddenly vanished. Harry froze as her features hardened, mimicking the look she'd held when they'd discussed blood purity in the common room almost two months ago. Once again, she suddenly looked very badass.
"I don't always side with teachers. You seem to be forgetting that I lit one on fire last year." She glared at him. Harry opened his mouth but she marched on before he could speak. "And don't tell me that Snape is different. How about with Lockhart? In Diagon Alley do you think I wasn't furious with him for dragging you into the spotlight just so his teaching announcement could make the front page? How about after he vanished all the bones from your arm? I wish you could have seen me berating him, Harry Potter, because you would never test me again. I have never yelled at anyone like I yelled at that man. I think he would have docked a hundred points from Gryffindor if he hadn't been so shocked. Shocked and terrified." Harry sat with his mouth agape, unsure if his brain could formulate any response to what Hermione had just rambled to him. "I don't always side with teachers. Understand?"
Harry nodded dumbly, his mind still absorbing what he'd just heard. Hermione's features instantly softened and she squeezed his hand. "You know I'll be by your side for anything, Harry. From You-Know-Who to the Quidditch Resistance." She giggled, and Harry couldn't help but crack a smile.
"Good to know." He whispered, gently drumming his fingers on the back of her hand. "I'll be there for you too." He added, much quieter. The two sat in silence for a few moments, staring at each other with small smiles. Even in the darkness Harry could spot pink tinges on his friend's cheeks, but before he could ask what was wrong the pair heard a small pop.
"What the – " He suddenly scooted towards his pillow as a silhouette appeared at the foot of his bed. It was very small, vaguely humanoid, it had two large protrusions from the top of its head. Harry groaned.
"Dobby?" Hermione asked, her expression appearing as baffled as Harry felt. "What are you doing here?"
"Dobby came to check on Harry Potter! And Hermione Granger!" The elf squeaked, his tennis ball sized ears blinking furiously.
"I thought we told you not to bother us again, Dobby!" Harry growled.
"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger made Dobby promise to stop interfering with their mail, and to stop trying to prevent them from getting to Hogwarts." The creature replied. Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly. The elf noticed his glare and began wringing his small hands nervously. "Well, Dobby heard that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger have arrived at Hogwarts. So now, Dobby has kept his promise. But Dobby does not want Harry Potter and Hermione Granger to be in danger, so Dobby wants to have them sent home. The Bludger was only…" He stopped upon hearing Harry and Hermione gasp in shock.
"You bewitched the Bludger?" Harry uttered in a strangled growl.
"You could have killed Harry!" Hermione spat.
"Dobby never meant to kill Harry Potter! Dobby only meant to maim, or…seriously injure…"
"You'd better get lost before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you." Harry hissed.
"Don't threaten him, Harry!" Hermione swatted him on his good arm.
"It's alright. Dobby is used to death threats. Dobby gets them five times a day from his masters."
"That's barbaric! Who would treat someone like you so cruelly?" Hermione leaned forward intensely, her expression once again shifting to one of fierce determination. Dobby, however, simply shook his head before blowing his nose on the pillowcase he wore.
"Dobby, why are you wearing that?" Harry finally asked once his anger had partially subsided. "Is that the same thing you wore when you showed up during the summer?"
"Yes. 'Tis the mark of a house elf. House elves are only freed if their master presents them with clothes. Even so much as handing Dobby a sock would be enough to free him."
Hermione whipped her head around to face Harry, her eyes brightening expectantly. Harry couldn't gather what she was trying to communicate and just shrugged.
"Dobby is only here to ask Harry Potter and Hermione Granger once again to leave Hogwarts. There is grave danger – "
"Is this about the attack?" Hermione asked, but the elf continued lamenting as if he didn't hear her.
" – unbelievable danger at Hogwarts. Dobby hears how Harry Potter and Hermione Granger helped to stop He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named last year and knows they are important. Too important to be in danger at Hogwarts. Now that the Chamber of Secrets is open – " He suddenly froze, clapping his hands over his mouth in a panic.
"So the Chamber of Secrets is real?" Hermione asked, practically trembling with excited curiosity.
"Dobby has said too much. Dobby will punish himself at home. But for now…" He stopped, his bat-like ears twitching. Harry heard multiple pairs of footsteps approaching the Hospital Wing. He turned back to the elf, who disappeared with another pop.
Hermione quickly grabbed the Invisibility Cloak off of the bed next to Harry's and threw it over herself, disappearing from sight. Harry lay his head on his pillow once again, locking his eyes onto the doors.
Harry fought the urge to gasp as Dumbledore sent the doors gliding open, walking in backwards with his wand pointed to a statue hovering in after him, followed by several professors.
The statue passed through a patch of moonlight, and Harry realized with a jolt that it wasn't a statue at all. Holding an all too familiar camera was the young Colin Creevey – he'd been petrified.