The Archive of Infinite Bullshit Ch2 (Patreon)

Lo everyone! Here’s part two! Sorry it’s a bit late. My dumb ass completely forgot today was the fifteenth.

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His second year didn’t really get off to a great start. He was back in that hellhole he had grown up in, though things were better than they had been. He and the Dursleys basically ignored each other, other than for meals. After getting good food at Hogwarts, coming back to the dull food at the Dursleys was a nightmare. He even took up cooking again, something he hadn’t done in years, just so that they could have some actual flavor.

He continued to practice his magic, though in this Muggle neighborhood, there was really no way he could practice any real spells. Instead, he spent most of his time racing around Britain at speed with his Shunpo, determined to get even faster. He quickly found himself places in nature that he could race to and be far from any Muggles so he could practice. He would get back ‘home’ exhausted each day, but he had successfully worked up to two Raikōhō per day now! He also managed to successfully cast a few of the lower forty spells that didn’t involve lightning! His power was growing steadily, something that made him all that more eager for that big jump that would come when he was seventeen and his magic fully matured.

Honestly, things weren’t bad at ‘home.’ The only thing dragging his mood down was the fact that he hadn’t gotten a single damn letter from his friends. Not even when he sent Hedwig off with letters of his own. It was infuriating.

But at least it was almost over. His birthday was today, which meant it was his last day in this hellhole of abhorrent normality. He went down for breakfast and took a few minutes getting everything ready. As he sat on the table, he was momentarily shocked when Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, “Now, as we all know, today is a very important day.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘He didn’t actually remember my birthday, did he?’

“This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career,” said Uncle Vernon.

Harry bit back a snort. Of course not. He didn’t know what the hell was up with this deal thing he was talking about as he always tried to avoid his family whenever possible, but that was more believable than them remembering what today was. “Congratulations.” He said flatly.

Vernon flinched, as he always did whenever Harry addressed him these days. “Yes. We are having a dinner party to host the Masons. You are not invited.”

“As if I’d want to be here.” Harry scoffed, “I’ll be off in the Forest of Dean past midnight. I’ll be back to sleep and then tomorrow I’m fucking off, and you won’t have to see me until next year.” Petunia ground her teeth at the language.

“Forest of Dean?” Dudley blurted, “How will you get there?”

“We’re certainly not going to waste time driving you there or pick you up.” Vernon blustered.

Harry looked at them with the most deadpan look possible, “How the fuck do you think?” He asked dryly. “I’ll run there and back. A hundred and twenty odd miles will be a nice warmup.”

Vernon bit back a growl, ‘Fucking freaks.’ He cleared his throat, “I think we should run through the schedule one more time,” said Uncle Vernon. “We should all be in position at eight o’clock. Petunia, you will be?” Harry watched as they play acted the entire evening with a dull look on his face as they ignored him entirely. Every time Dudley opened his fat mouth, Petunia squealed in glee as if he was still a five-year-old. When Dudley got to one of his parts, he couldn’t help snorting. “What was that, boy?” Vernon glared at him.

“Well, I suppose if you want to lose the deal, Dudley could be that much of a kiss-ass.” He leered at his cousin, “You’re not ten, Dudders. Honestly, ‘We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.’ Yeah, nice essay about this guy you’ve literally never met. Could you be laying it on any thicker?” All three of their faces were red as Harry stood. “Have fun. I’ll be back for dinner, and then I’m out of here.” He walked away without another word. He was glad the family of morons was too terrified of him to reply back. He exited the house and vanished in a bolt of speed, reappearing at the park.

It was such a hot day that he didn’t really want to be outside, but it was better than inside the house. “Maybe I should go to the pool instead.” He grumbled, not noticing the luminous pair of eyes that was following his every move with astonishment.

At six, he went back to the house and washed up. He didn’t shower as that would be a waste with a night of training ahead of him, but he did get cleaned up and refreshed himself with some spells. Then he went down and prepared some food for himself while Petunia bustled about, looking worried. He raised an eyebrow, “You look stressed, aunt, what is it?”

Petunia hissed, “The house isn’t ready!” She fretted, “Dudley was only able to get the car washed while Vernon mowed the lawn.”

He smirked and wiggled his fingers, “I could help, you know. Just. Like. That.” He snapped his fingers, before dropping his hand. “Of course, that would mean asking me to do my freak stuff. What will it be, auntie?”

Petunia looked like she was actively having an aneurysm, and Vernon wasn’t much better. “Fine.” She said harshly, sounding like she was choking.

Harry snapped, and every bit of dirt and dust vanished from the kitchen and the foyer. A second snap had all the windows squeaky-clean. A third snap outside had the flowerbeds trimmed, the roses pruned, and the garden bench looking new. “You’re welcome.” He said flatly as he sat to have his dinner.

Vernon was grumbling under his breath, “Freaks! Freaks every one of them! They don’t know the meaning of hard work!”

Harry glared at him, “I could always reverse everything, you know. Cover every inch of this house in slime.” He raised his hand threateningly, and they all paled at the threat. “And just because you don’t see any effort doesn’t mean we don’t work hard, you fat lump. I have to train for more hours than you work to do what I can do. If you put in even half the effort I do, you’d be as big as Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

“I won’t be spoken to like this in my own house!” Vernon roared as he slammed his fat hands onto the table, shaking the dishes.

“Then just do what you do best and ignore me.” Harry spat back. “The less we talk the better you ungrateful bastard.” He wolfed down his food and went upstairs. And then he froze as he walked into his room and saw a House Elf jumping on his bed gleefully. “What the fuck?”

The Elf almost fell over as it slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Harry noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm and leg holes. ‘This can’t be a Hogwarts Elf.’ Harry thought to himself, “Who are you?”

“Harry Potter!” said the creature in a high-pitched voice Harry was sure would carry down the stairs.

“No, that’s me.” Harry said, smirking and speaking slowly.

The Elf seemed to flush, but gamely moved past it. “So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir… Such an honor it is…”

“Dobby then?” Harry asked, “You’re not a Hogwarts Elf.” He repeated his thought from before out loud, “Not with that ratty pillowcase for clothes. Why are you here?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” said Dobby earnestly. “Dobby has come to tell you, sir… it is difficult, sir… Dobby wonders where to begin…”

“The beginning is generally a good place to start.” Harry said dryly, “And I’m on a schedule here, so hurry it up. Sit.”

Dobby froze, and his bulbous eyes filled with tears. “S-Sit down?” He started to sob, and Harry immediately silenced the room so that the noise wouldn’t carry downstairs. He wasn’t sure when the Masons would be arriving, but as tempting as it was to ruin this night for the Dursleys, he wasn’t that much of an asshole. “S-sit down!” he wailed. “Never… never ever…”

‘Oh jeez, this poor thing is abused, isn’t it?’ Harry winced, “I didn’t offend you, did I?”

“Offend Dobby?!” Choked the elf. “Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard! Like an equal!”

“You can’t have met many decent wizards then.” He said lightly, still watching the Elf carefully.

Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, “Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!” Harry immediately grabbed him by the neck and pulled him away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hissed, glaring at the creature.

“Dobby had to punish himself, sir.” said the Elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. “Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…”

“Well, no punishing yourself in front of me.” Harry said, throwing him onto the bed. “You are not allowed to do it in this house. Go home and punish yourself if you must. If you try to do it in front of me, I will stop you and tie you up.” Dobby shivered at the look in Harry’s eyes. “Now hurry up and tell me what you want to say.”

Dobby swallowed, still stiff over the sheer strength he could feel from Harry. “Dobby heard tell…” he said hoarsely, “That Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just weeks ago… that Harry Potter escaped yet again.”

Harry snorted, “Is that what you heard? Well, you heard wrong, Dobby. The only one that did any escaping was that cunt after I burnt his vessel to ash.”

Dobby gasped in shock, “The great Harry Potter defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named once more?”

“That’s right.” Harry said smugly.

“Ah, sir,” Dobby gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. “Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter! To warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later… Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

“There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year,” Dobby whispered, suddenly trembling all over. He would have continued, but Harry surprised him by grinning broadly.

“Oh, good!”

Dobby blinked, “Excuse Dobby?”

“You’re excused.” Harry joked magnanimously.

“…Dobby does not understand.”

“Well, I was worried.” Harry said, “After fighting Voldemort again, I was worried this year was going to be boring!”

“Ah!” Dobby flinched, “Say not the nam-”

“Vol-De-Mort.” Harry said, staring the creature down, who flinched. “Now, who is plotting and what’s the plan?” Dobby made a funny choking noise, and then turned and tried to run headfirst into the wall. “Bakudō #4: Hainawa.” Harry deadpanned, and the crackling yellow rope shot out like a snake and wrapped around Dobby. The Elf thudded to the floor before Harry hauled him up and held him out in front of him. “I said…” He hissed, glaring at the elf, “No. Punishing.”

“H-Harry Potter used magic?!” Dobby gasped, “B-But-”

“Yes, I did. Get over it.” Harry said cheerfully. “Now answer my damn question.”

“D-Dobby cannot say.” Dobby choked out.

“Does it have anything to do with Voldemort?”

Slowly, Dobby shook his head. “Not… not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Not him…” He looked away, ‘Not him…’ His eyes widened, “Then perhaps Tom Riddle?”

Dobby gasped, “How did-”

Harry smiled, “I see. So, Voldemort before he became Voldemort.” Dobby flinched with every utterance of the name. “Well, thank you, Dobby. But I have myself handled. I’ll be going back to Hogwarts and whatever plot there is, I will handle.”

“No!” Dobby wailed, “This is a danger the great Harry Potter must not face!”

“Nothing you say or do will change my mind, Dobby.” Harry said flatly. “And I’m beginning to lose my patience. I’ll be going back to Hogwarts on September first, even if I have to run there. It’ll be a good warmup for the cold-clocking I’ll be giving my friends.”

“Friends who do not even write to Harry Potter?” Dobby asked desperately.

Harry froze, “Dobby.” He said, his voice even but his glare absolutely thunderous, “How do you know my friends haven’t written to me?”

Dobby blinked anxiously up at Harry. “Harry Potter mustn’t be angry… Dobby hoped… if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him… Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir…”

Harry let out a snarl, “You will give them here. Now.”

“Only if Harry Potter promis-” The Hainawa wrapped around Dobby’s mouth, gagging the elf. Harry opened his window with Dobby held by the scruff of his neck before they landed on the roof on the opposite end of the road. And then they flashed again, appearing nearly a mile away. And then again. And again, and before Dobby’s eyes stopped spinning, the Elf was deposited roughly on the ground of Harry’s clearing in the Forest of Dean. His bindings vanished and the Elf hopped to his feet with a gasp.

“Hadō #63: Raikōhō!” Harry yelled, pointing his left arm to his left and firing out a colossal bolt of lightning. The blast blew Dobby clean over and bashed him into a tree from the winds.

When it was over, Dobby could only gape at the devastation. “Wh-what magic is this?” The Elf gasped, “What kind of magic can do this?! H-How did the great Harry Potter even get Dobby here? Th-this is a hundred miles away.” He sounded awed.

“The kind I’m going to blast down your throat if you don’t give me my letters, Dobby.” Harry snarled. “And I ran.”

Dobby swallowed heavily, before reaching into his pillowcase and making Harry grimace. He shakily handed the letters to Harry. “H-Harry Potter is an even greater wizard than Dobby thought.”

Harry looked at the mass of letters in his hands. Dobby clicked his fingers, and a couple packages appeared as well. Gifts from his friends. He even saw his own letters in the mass. “Good. Now fuck off.” Harry ignored what he said and turned away to go sit on a boulder. He had a lot of mail to read.

Dobby tried to address him, to beg Harry not to go back to Hogwarts even after that amazing and terrifying display, but Harry completely ignored him in favor of his letters. Frustrated, Dobby left with a snap of his fingers, leaving Harry alone, enjoying the birthday cake his Chasers had sent him.

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The next day, he penned a bunch of letters apologizing for ‘not responding’ and saying there were extenuating circumstances he didn’t want to write about. He told them that he’d be in Diagon Alley for the rest of the break, and they could find him there. As promised, he gathered his trunk, shrunk everything, and then left Number Four for the final time that year without so much as a goodbye. He ended up back in the Leaky Cauldron and rented a room for the rest of the summer.

His first stop was Gringotts, and without Hagrid breathing down his neck, he got himself a full accounting of what he owned. Having learned more about his family over the past year, he was surprised to find he wasn’t quite as wealthy as he had thought. Still fabulously rich, but apparently his father and grandfather had spent quite a bit of the family’s accumulated wealth fighting against Voldemort. His family home was in complete disrepair and unfortunately, more suitable for demolition than for living, which was a bummer.

He would definitely need to figure out a way to recoup their losses from the war. Perhaps he should give his broom project more focus? He was also surprised to find that he had the right to claim the Peverell vault as well, since the last daughter of that house married into the Potter family some generations ago. Harry did claim it, and was disappointed to find a mere pittance in the vault. There weren’t even any cool artifacts inside! The only really interesting thing was a first-edition copy of a book detailing the Deathly Hallows. He wasn’t sure why the fairy tale would be inside the vault, but read through it anyway.

As the days passed, Harry was able to meet more and more of his friends from school. The first three to arrive were Alicia, Katie, and Angelina, and all three of the girls were dumbfounded to hear about Dobby. They were also worried about the apparently-upcoming threat, and decided to get some more books on defensive magic than they had been planning on. They also wondered about why they hadn’t been sent their book lists yet, something Harry had noticed as well.

Snogging the three of them for a few hours before they had to go back home had been fun as well.

Hermione and Neville arrived together, and were equally worried about Dobby’s warning. Hermione looked quite put out as well, that they’d have to deal with another unusual year. The days went by, and finally, the book lists arrived. Harry deadpanned as he saw the massive list, “Why the fuck do we have to buy seven books from Gilderoy Lockhart?”

Rolling his eyes, he went off to Flourish and Blotts and gaped when he saw how expensive the books were. Thirty-five bloody galleons for the lot of them. That was more than he had spent last year for everything if he didn’t count his wand. He flinched as he thought of the poor Weasleys. He knew from Fred and George that their family wasn’t exactly well off. Between the twins, Percy, Ronald, and apparently their sister, that would be two hundred and forty-five galleons just for this Lockhart’s books. And they were all required reading!

Was this extortion? How had Dumbledore approved this nonsense?

At least he had dodged the man himself. Apparently there would be a book signing by Lockhart next week. He knew damn well what store he would be avoiding like the bloody plague.

As he added them to his Archive and started reading through them, his eyes grew duller and duller. ‘…What…the fuck.’ Was the only thought he had as he finished the first book: Break with a Banshee. His right eye was twitching as he got a quarter of the way through Gadding with Ghouls. By the time he finished, he was actively going through the Archive’s spells, wondering if there was a delete function.

He actively debated burning the rest before ultimately deciding to send the whole stack to Fred and George to lighten the family’s upcoming burden. They could give them to their sister. Hedwig was quite put out when she couldn’t lift the stack on her own, so Harry had to send them with the regular post with two large eagle owls.

He later very much regretted not going to Flourish and Blotts for the book signing, not because of Lockhart himself, but because Mr. Weasley apparently got into a hell of a fistfight with Lucius Malfoy. He would have paid to have watched that. And then Fred and George let him know that Lockhart was going to be their new teacher, and Harry was right back being to infuriated.

The summer break ended soon after, and it was back to Hogwarts! He met up with Hermione at the station, along with her parents. Everything went well, up until it didn’t. Harry didn’t have any of his stuff on trolleys, but Hermione did. As they went to walk through the barrier, Hermione’s trolley crashed into the suddenly solid barrier before he crashed into her.

The muggles around them jumped from the loud crash as Hermione’s parents had to help them up, and Hermione had to stammer out an excuse when one of the constables asked them when the hell they were doing. “What’s going on?” She hissed to Harry. Harry put his hand on the barrier and frowned when it was just as solid as it had been when she crashed. “Why is it sealed?” She asked softly as her parents looked on, worried.

Harry glared at the wall as he realized what must have happened, “Dobby.” He hissed out with frustration as he closed his eyes and sensed the magic in the wall.

Hermione growled, “If we miss the train because of that Elf!” She cut herself off.

“Impossible. He’ll cause an incident. We’ve still got an hour, so he’d have to keep half the school out. Is he an idiot?” Harry growled back, eyes still closed. He examined the wall and could feel the foreign magic that wasn’t coming from the wall itself. He grabbed it with his metaphorical hands and snapped the thread. It was faint, but he definitely heard a yelp of pain and smirked viciously when he realized the Elf must have been watching closely.

His hand sank through, and he looked around. “Go on.” He said to Hermione, before slipping in. She followed and her parents followed them. She sighed in relief as the issue resolved itself. They said goodbye to Hermione’s parents and got on the train, finding an empty compartment to set up shop. Neville joined them five minutes later, and Harry spent the next forty-five minutes metaphorically slapping Hermione around regarding Lockhart.

The train ride went smoothly, and they didn’t even have to deal with Malfoy! At the welcoming feast, Harry let out a deep groan when he saw that Fred and George had not, in fact, been pulling his leg when he saw Lockhart up at the table.

Katie grinned at him and elbowed him in the side. “What, not a fan of our illustrious new Defense Professor.”

“He’s going to be worse than Quirrell!” Harry wailed melodramatically.

“Not possible.” Angelina declared, though she didn’t look confident.

“Have you read his books?” Harry snarled, “I read two and they’re worse than MY fucking books! You know, the complete fantasy series where I rode a dragon at age five? They’re full of contradictions too! He was apparently in two places at once, several thousand miles apart! He forced every single student in Hogwarts to waste thirty-five bloody galleons on his books!”

“No, no, Harry, tell us how you really feel.” Fred grinned at him.

“Hopefully he’s also hiding Voldemort somewhere.” The entire table flinched as he said the dreaded name.

“Oh, come on, surely those were just editing mistakes.” Hermione said softly, still not convinced. “At least give him one class before you declare him worse than p-poor, st-stuttering professor Quirrell.”

“Fine.” Harry let out a breath, “He gets one class.”

And with that, the doors opened as Professor McGonagall let the firsties in. Harry didn’t really take note of anyone other than the twins’ sister, who ended up getting sorted into Gryffindor and joined her family. She blushed brightly when she laid eyes on him for the first time, and spent the rest of it fidgeting and glancing at him every few minutes.

The feast was pretty uneventful after that, and they were dismissed. Their dorms hadn’t changed much, so Harry just went to bed after saying goodnight to his dormmates. The next morning, they got their schedules, and their first class of the day was Herbology. The mandrakes were…annoying, so Harry got the work done as fast as possible so he could get the hell out of there.

His classes proceeded much as they had last year. The first day was pretty much all about review, with their next class (Transfiguration) letting him as well as a few other classmates out early. He finished all the review in about three minutes, earning points and a proud smile from his Head of House. That left him plenty of free time to practice on his own.

Lunch followed, and then it was time for Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins. Neville had some fun teasing Hermione over her outlining Lockhart’s classes with little hearts on her schedule, though it only got an eyeroll from Harry.

As they stepped out of the hall, a tiny little firstie came up and asked him for a photo. He was immediately told no by Harry, who most definitely did not want his photo taken by a fanboy. He told the kid to save pictures for the Quidditch pitch as that was the only time he’d be getting any.

The kid looked like he was going to cry, but Harry wasn’t a fucking zoo exhibit. They made their way to Lockhart’s class and took their seats. Hermione was practically vibrating in anticipation as they waited. Finally, the man came in, and immediately set off Harry’s ‘fop-dar.’ ‘What a bloody ponce. He’s worse than Malfoy.’ And then they got a pop quiz, and Harry didn’t even get to the second question before he realized he wanted to pick up their heavy oak table and beat the shit out of Lockhart with it. He saw the disbelief of several people’s faces, and the burning disappointment.

But Lockhart moved right through the lesson, and then they got to a practical portion, which made several of them sigh in relief. Harry wasn’t fooled, and was right to not be. Lockhart unleashed a horde of Cornish Pixies on them, and pandemonium erupted in the room as the little buggers did everything from stealing wands to hauling Goyle into the air.

Harry would have done something about it, but he was too busy sitting in disbelief. “Come on now! Round them up, round them up! They’re only pixies,” Lockhart shouted at them as he rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, “Peskipiksi Pesternomi!”

Absolutely nothing happened. In fact, one of the little buggers grabbed his wand out of his hand and threw it out the damn window. Harry could feel his heartbeat in his eyelids as the ponce hurried up the stairs to his personal room and glanced at the students, “Well, you lot should be able to get them back into their cage easily enough.” He slammed the door shut, leaving the panicking students behind.

Harry stood, “Bakudō #25: Ōku no Hainawa!” Two dozen glowing yellow ropes lashed out from his hand, ensnaring the pixies. The ropes snapped together, gathering all the little beasts in one lump, and Harry, face apoplectic, swung his arm to the side. The pixies screamed as Harry bashed them into a wall, crushing them and knocking most of them out. A few of them died outright. Another jerk of his arm had them all slammed back into the cage, and Tracey Davis, the closest person to it, slammed the door shut. As they all sat there, Harry snarled, “Class dismissed.” Before stomping out.

“Harry-” Hermione called out as the class surged out after him, and Harry let out a yell, slamming a fist into the wall. She squeaked in shock, followed by several others in awe and terror, as the stone wall cracked from the impact of his fist.

“Peskipiksi Pesternomi!” Harry snarled. “Pesky pixie pester no me. Pesky pixie do not pester me.” He turned around and saw the anger and disappointment in many of his classmates’ faces as they understood what he was getting at. “I’m starting a fucking Defense Against the Dark Arts club. If anyone wants to not waste the whole fucking year, feel free to join. Lockhart can suck my whole ass.”

Several blushes and a few sputters. Hestia and Flora Carrow stepped up, “We’re in.” They said in that ominous synchronized speech they had.

“You know you’ve got me.” Neville clapped him on the shoulder.

Hermione just looked disappointed. “Yeah. I’m in, of course.” And after that, about ninety percent slowly agreed. Malfoy looked constipated as he scoffed and walked away.

“Malfoy!” Harry called, and the blonde turned around. “I wanted to apologize!”

Malfoy smirked, “What, finally recognized your betters, Potter?”

“No, I just wanted to say sorry that you’ve lost your spot as the head ponce in the castle.” Harry smirked back as everyone burst out laughing, including other Slytherins. Malfoy’s face twisted in rage as he spun around and walked away. “Spread the word to the Puffs and the Claws as well. Anyone in our year will be welcome as long as they’re there to learn. I’ll talk to Professor McGonagall about it.”

“We’ll look forward to it, Potter.” Blaise Zabini saluted him with an amused smirk as the Slytherins walked away. Harry shook his head and stomped off to McGonagall’s office.

…

“Hello Professor.” Harry walked into McGonagall’s office without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Mr. Potter?” She raised her eyebrow, “What is it?”

“I’m just informing you that I will be starting a Defense Against the Dark Arts club, with some dueling thrown in. Just for the second years, to start.”

Her second eyebrow joined the first, “Oh, you will, will you? And why should I allow that?” Harry recounted what happened in their first class with Lockhart, and she actually took off her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Not another one.” She let out a low whine that Harry barely heard.

“Why did Professor Dumbledore hire him?” Harry scratched the back of his heat irritably.

“He was the only one who applied.” McGonagall responded heavily. “With his resume I’d hoped…” She shook her head, “What do you plan to do?”

“Like I said, resurrect the dueling club, though with an emphasis on learning what we’ll need, seeing as Lockhart certainly won’t be teaching us anything useful.” He grinned, “Hell, the Carrow twins were the first ones to agree to it, so it’ll even help with that rivalry crud.”

McGonagall smiled slightly, “Very well. Who will you want me to request as the Supervisor?”

“I think Professors Flitwick and Snape.” Harry said, surprising her.

“Alright. Draft up a plan and submit it to me by the end of the week. If I like what I see, I will approve it.” She smiled thinly at him, proud of the son of two of her favorites.

“Oh, and I’m skipping Defense Against the Dark Arts from now on.”

And there went the pride. “You know I can’t allow that.”

“Either that or I Quirrell him.” He grumbled under his breath.

“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall sounded horrified.

“Okay, fine. We’ll feed him to Fluffy. No, wait, that’ll give him indigestion.” Harry rubbed his chin in thought.

It was almost funny. “Mr. Potter. Please stop before I give you a month’s worth of detention.” She ground out.

“Can they be during Defense Against the Dark Arts?” Harry asked impishly.

“Out! And I better not hear that you’ve been skipping class!” She watched as he grumbled all the way from her office and finally let out the groan she’d been holding. “If I had any doubts he was your son…” She snorted, remembering exactly how vindictive that little redheaded spitfire had been.

…

The weekend came, and with it came Wood’s Quidditch fever. Apparently winning the Cup last year hadn’t been enough. If anything, Wood’s mania reached a fever pitch. Harry just about cursed him when he was shaken awake before dawn had even arrived to train. When Wood then spent the next thirty minutes going over new strategies while the rest of the team struggled to even stay awake, Harry debated the benefits of mutiny.

They finally got in the air fifteen minutes later, and it wasn’t even five minutes later when things got annoying. Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, was leading the green team onto the pitch to practice as well. When Wood confronted him, having booked the pitch in this time slot for the Gryffindor team’s exclusive use, Flint sounded ultra smug. “Ah, but I’ve got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. ‘I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.’ So, you see, we have just as much right to be here as you do.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Gee, I wonder who?” He said drolly, and was entirely unsurprised as Malfoy walked forward.

And then even he was surprised as Flint smugly showed off seven brand spanking-new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones, courtesy of Draco’s father. The brooms had gleaming black handles and sleek, also black bristles. The shining kickstands were silver. They did look far more handsome than Harry’s older model.

And with that, Harry solidified his desires to create his own broom. He had already exhaustively examined the spells on his own broom, and merely had put the project on the backburner since he had more important things to do. Humiliating Malfoy, on the other hand, was always a worthwhile endeavor.

Neville and Hermione had joined them, “What’s going on?” He asked once they got close enough.

The ensuing dick measuring contest ended when Hermione scoffed, “At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in, Malfoy. They have talent instead of money.”

The smug look on Malfoy’s face flickered. He spat. “No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood.”

Pandemonium erupted as several of them tried to attack Malfoy. The blonde’s comment turned into a brawl, and Harry saw a great opportunity. Flint’s new broom had flown out of his hand, and Harry caught it. Using a new spell he had just learned from a new series he’d found this summer, he instantly analyzed the broom, its making, and all of the spells on it. ‘Thank you, Structural Grasping.’ He hid a smirk as the fight ended, and he tossed the Nimbus over to Flint. The practice ended soon after that, and was perfectly glad that he hadn’t participated in the fight when a furious McGonagall arrived and gave half of both teams detention, along with Neville. When she heard what had started the fight in the first place, she doubled the detentions for the Slytherins.

Harry was much less amused when Neville told him and Hermione what that word meant.

…

Harry spent the next month working on his broom project whenever they didn’t have their Defense Against the Dark Arts club or Quidditch. It took him a bit to figure out the spells, as while he had committed them to memory, they were rather delicate. Perhaps too delicate for him, though he managed to get them working in the end. Buying the materials hadn’t cost all that much, and he’d experimented with various wood types over the past few weeks, trying to find which one responded to the spells and runes the best. Comparing the Two Thousand and the Two Thousand and One to the older models the school had, as well as Angelina’s Cleansweep Eight, showed just what the difference was between them.

He made seven prototypes to start with, all with different materials for the wood, and standardized the bristles and footrests to try to figure out what worked best with only the single variable. He flew all of them in the dead of night as the rest of the castle slept, and as he’d hoped, there was a clear difference in the speed, agility, and maneuverability. He picked the best two and discarded the rest. He then chose seven different woods and repeated it, picking the best two from each batch. He continued doing this until he had a lineup of seven prototypes that had done better than the others, with the final batch having one clear winner and utter garbage for the leftover six.

With that done, he tested each and every wood with different bristles while keeping the footrests the same. It was as he went up to test his fourth iteration that the headmaster almost made him jump out of his skin. “Well, isn’t this interesting?”

“Professor!” Harry yelped, having not sensed the man in the slightest.

Dumbledore looked amused, “Might I ask what you’ve been up to the past few weeks?”

Harry shrugged, “Well, Malfoy decided to bribe his way onto the Slytherin team with new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones, and I decided that wasn’t very cool.”

Dumbledore chuckled, “No, I imagine you wouldn’t.” He picked up one of Harry’s prototypes, “My word, how do you know any of these spells? This work is very well done!” He said in surprise.

Harry scratched his chin, “Do you have any enchanted items on you, Professor?” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, before reaching into a pocket. He handed an item over to Harry, who used Structural Grasping on it. “Huh, this thing is cool. It has spells on it that absorb light. You made it forty-five years ago.”

Dumbledore’s jaw lowered before he shook his head slightly, “How?” He asked incredulously.

Harry smirked impishly, “Magic.” Dumbledore blinked, before letting out a loud laugh. “You know that old saying, ‘Never assume something is impossible. You never know when an idiot who doesn't know any better will come along to prove you wrong?’ Well, you can apply it to Muggles.  It's a shame they can’t actually do magic, because damn if they're not creative.”

“Fascinating.” Dumbledore sounded delighted, “Truly fascinating. I suppose only someone who knows nothing about actual magic could come up with rule-breaking spells. Can you use this ability of yours to learn any spell?” He asked curiously.

Harry shook his head, “It gives me information on the make of the item, as well as what spells are on it. I then have to actually go and learn the spells.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore smiled, “So I imagine you’ve gone and examined quite a few brooms in the past few days. Did you do this simply to show up your rival?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No!” Harry looked affronted, “The spells were fascinating, and I studied my Nimbus on and off all of last year. I love the thing, I just wish it were faster and nimbler. Once I saw the spells on this year’s model, I saw the direct improvements they made. That made it easy to start experimenting.”

“And you’re hoping to make your own broom, are you?” Dumbledore wondered curiously.

Harry grinned, “Not just mine.” He laughed, “Once I figure out which is the best prototype, I’ll see about improving the spells. And then I’ll make Mark One designs and gift them to the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff teams.”

The old man bellowed in laughter, “Ah, wonderful! You’re a good lad, Harry.”

Harry blushed, “Thanks, Professor.” His grin turned impish, “And once everyone sees my brooms cream the Nimbuses, I can start selling them.”

Dumbledore continued to laugh, “Well, get a move on, then. I think I’d quite like to see your process. Just don’t tell Minerva.” He winked at the boy.

Harry grinned and got back to work.

…

Halloween came, and Harry had entirely forgotten about Dobby’s warnings. Not a single truly interesting thing happened for the first two months of classes. Nothing that made him think there was an actual threat to the school. In fact, danger was the last thing on his mind on that day. Wood’s maniacal practice schedules drowned everything out. He, in fact, looked not unlike a drowned cat as he trudged back to the school. Rain and wind had pounded the team, with Wood proclaiming that the lazy Slytherins would never win against them in inclement weather with how hard they practiced.

Warming and cleaning charms only did so much, so Harry still felt disgusting as they finally got back to school. He made sure they were at least clean and damp rather than wet, though that wasn't enough for Filch. A quick shower had the team ready for the Halloween feast, and he was famished. He looked around and noticed that the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw teams looked as miserable as his own team did. The news about the Slytherin team’s new brooms had done the rounds, and all of them were training as hard as they could to try to get any sort of edge for the upcoming games. Up to and including simply doing races around the grounds while dodging bludgers if the pitch was booked.

All of them were exhausted, and eagerly filled their bellies. It was a merry night, and Harry felt almost refreshed after their meal. He was eager to go knock out a few hours of sleep before meeting with Professor Dumbledore to continue working on his brooms. He was close. He could feel it!

As they were dismissed, they started walking up the stairs chatting with one another, up until they got to the second floor and saw water all over the place. “What the?”

Parvati groaned, “Did Myrtle flood her toilet again?”

And then someone shrieked, “LOOK!”

Harry pushed his way to the front and his eyes widened when he saw what the older girl was pointing at, looking scared.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

“Is that blood?” One of the third year Hufflepuffs sounded faint.

“Enemies of the Heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!” Malfoy shouted, and immediately, a din rose up as several people started shouting insults at the blonde.

“Oh Merlin!” Hermione gasped, “Look underneath!” Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring. She looked almost like she was made of stone.

The teachers had been attracted, and they were all ushered away as they got the cat down and into Lockhart’s office. The last thing Harry saw before they were off to their dormitories as ordered was Filch’s mad sobbing over his cat.

All of a sudden, Dobby’s warning didn’t seem like nonsense anymore.

…

The next few days saw Harry changing much of his plans for their club. The school seemed to be far more interested in this Chamber of Secrets than actual classes, and all the teachers could see it. Harry rapidly intensified his lessons for the Defense Against the Dark Arts club, learning advanced spells from his Archived knowledge and passing them on to the rest of the second years. Shields, disarming jinxes, even stunners. It became quite clear to his classmates just how advanced Harry himself was, and the quick and steady improvement of his closest friends saw many interested in being closer friends with him.

The rest of the second years struggled much more, with various students learning faster than others. Harry rapidly realized he couldn’t teach everyone, and so he decided he needed a few ‘lieutenants.’ He picked a few advanced second years from every house to form the club’s ‘inner circle,’ and started teaching them personally. Neville and Hermione from Gryffindor, Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff, Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, and finally, Daphne Greengrass and the Carrow twins from Slytherin. They were the ones who got the spells quickest, and therefore the best options.

The fact that most of them were easy on the eyes helped. He was quite happy he got to know them all a bit better. With their help, their club astounded Flitwick with their rapid progress, and even Snape smiled slightly at the end of a good practice. Even the slower students in the club started getting much better grades in Charms especially. Eventually, the Carrows, Potioneers extraordinaire, even started tutoring on dangerous potions to watch out for. The Slytherins who disdained the rest of the school ostracized the ones who attended Harry’s club, but the ones who did, became so skilled so rapidly that the previously unified house fractured.

The Chamber was still of interest, and Hermione managed to get Binns to talk. The old ghost was somehow utterly perturbed by the actual interest from his students, especially since it was over what he considered so much dung. There, they learned some history between the Founders, and that there was some ‘serious argument’ between Slytherin and the other three founders, leading to the silver snake leaving the school behind. Before leaving, the man had apparently constructed a secret chamber and left a monster inside, and that his heir would ‘purge the school of all those unworthy of magic.’

The class kept asking questions, up until Binns snapped and returned to sleep-inducing History. Harry and his friends, old and new, got together that night for their usual meetup. “I suppose the warning makes sense now.”

“What warning?” Daphne asked curiously. She was black-haired and purple-eyed and looked quite cute when she wasn’t sneering at people.

“Oh right, we weren’t friends yet.” Harry nodded, “Some nut of a House Elf was stealing my mail over the summer.” Their eyes widened, “Apparently he had overheard something at home about a ‘terrible plot’ that would be happening this year at school, and got it in his head to ‘save me’ by trying to prevent me from coming back.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Daphne scoffed, “You didn’t happen to get a name, did you?”

“The Elf’s name was Dobby.” Harry told them.

“Dobby.” Hestia said blankly, before turning to Flora, “Isn’t that the Malfoy Elf?”

“One of them, I think.” Flora tilted her head.

“…Why am I utterly unsurprised.” Harry asked blankly, rolling his eyes.

“What, so Malfoy is the heir of Slytherin?” Neville asked dubiously.

Daphne, Susan, Padma, and the twins all snorted, “He wishes.” Daphne said, sneering once more, “Blonde ponce would be singing from the rafters if he was. No, Malfoy isn’t involved. At least not directly.”

“But if this Dobby really is their Elf…” Hermione said softly.

“Even if he is, you’d never prove anything.” Ernie said, scratching behind his ear. “And they’re right. The Malfoys are just an upstart family who fled France a thousand year ago. There’s zero Slytherin blood in those veins.”

“Got it.” Harry said, scratching Malfoy off his list. Not that he expected differently. “Interesting, but ultimately irrelevant, I suppose. Now, the next spell we’ll learn-”

“How about that cool one you did against the pixies?” Daphne looked really interested.

Hermione snorted, “Good bloody luck, Daphne.” The Slytherin glared lightly at her, “Neville and I have been trying those spells since last year. They’re really weird and nothing like usual spells. I still don’t know how Harry finds them so easy.”

“I told you wands were crutches.” Harry said smugly. “Useful once you know magic and start learning spells designed to be used by them, but it seems like they make people think they’re required after too much use.”

“Aren’t they usually?” Padma asked with a frown, “Only super powerful wizards like Professor Dumbledore ever do much wandless magic.”

“Did you need a wand for accidental magic?” Harry asked her.

“Well… no, of course not?” It was more of a question than an answer.

“So why would it be required?” Harry asked blandly, “Magic is a part of us. Wands help bring it out, sure, and are required for spells designed to be performed with wands, but they honestly seem detrimental to me if given to students too early. Which they are.”

“…So you’re telling us we have to… unlearn bad habits if we want to learn those cooler spells you know?” The Carrows smiled in sync, “Challenge accepted.”

Harry smirked at the sisters, “Well, with the gauntlet thrown, how about we start with Bakudō #1: Sai…”

…

“Alright Harry-” George said.

His twin continued, “Far be it for us to question a wee bit of rule breaking-”

“But where-”

Angelina interrupted them, crossing her arms, “Why do you have the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team meeting at the tallest tower at one in the morning?” She asked bluntly.

“It’s a surprise, and now’s the right time for it!” Harry grinned eagerly, “Something I know you’ll enjoy.”

They stepped out into the area that Harry had spent the past two months working in, and saw that there were seven small crates floating there. “Those look suspicious.” Wood grinned at the shape of the crates.

“Do they really?” Professor Dumbledore’s voice made all of them jump.

“P-Professor!” Katie squeaked in shock. Oh, they were in so much trouble.

“Damn it Harry, this is your fault!” Alicia hissed, dreading the detentions they would be getting for this.

Dumbledore chuckled, “Calm yourselves. You’re not in trouble.” Their eyes widened, “I merely wished to see your reactions to Harry’s surprise. I’ve been supervising him for the past few months as he worked on them.”

“Wait, is this why you’ve been so tired most of the time?” Wood eyed him suspiciously.

“Aye.” Harry grinned, “Don’t worry Woody Allen,” Wood blinked in confusion, “It’ll be worth it.” His smile was near maniacal as he opened the first of the crates and pulled out his first real enchanted creation. The Gryffindors gasped as they saw his creation for the first time.

He was holding a broom. The shaft was made of African Bloodwood and gleamed red. The bristles were Ebony with some other Bloodwood bristles mixed deep in the core of the bundle. They looked just as sleek as the Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. The bundle was bound by the golden kickstands, which were wider than even the Two Thousand and Ones’s kickstands. The entire kickstand was covered in runes, as were parts of the shaft. Harry felt nothing but joy as his teammates’ jaws dropped. “Meet the Raijin Mark One.”

“Wicked!” The twins were drooling.

“What the hell is that?!” Angelina gaped.

“You made your own broom?!” Wood gaped, “Fucking hell, Harry, I couldn’t do that! I graduate next year!”

“Is it safe?” Katie asked, feeling bad that she felt dubious.

“You tell me.” Harry cackled as he dove back and flew so fast that he had his teammates gaping at the sight.

“It’s faster than the Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones!” Wood almost shrieked.

“How did he do this?!” Angelina’s knees felt a little weak.

Dumbledore chuckled, “With time, dedication, and a wee bit of help.” He gave her a small wink.

Harry touched down, “Harry, how in the world did you learn the litany of spells you’d need to make this thing?!” Wood was flabbergasted.

“Bloody hell, I think they’re better than the Nimbuses!” Fred and George chorused.

“They are.” Harry smirked, “You see, when Malfoy showed up with his new brooms, I decided I just couldn’t let that stand, you know? And I wasn’t about to go buy seven brooms for us. My family lost a lot of its wealth fighting Voldemort,” he waited for the flinches to pass and continued without caring about their protests, “-and even if we hadn’t, like hell was I going to go buy something Malfoy thought was good.” The team grinned.

“I still don’t get it, though.” Angelina protested, “The spells on brooms are incredibly advanced! And there are even Runes on that thing! You haven’t even started that class yet! How did you learn everything?! Did Professor Dumbledore do all the spellwork?!”

“Not in the slightest, Miss Johnson.” Dumbledore cut in, “As said, I only offered advice where needed and prevented a few… youthful errors, shall we say?” Harry blushed. How was he supposed to know that anchoring the flying charms in before the cushioning charms would cause the broom to buck hard enough to turn his unmentionables into jam? “I also taught him some improved versions of the spells that he already knew.”

“Again. HOW?!” Fred and George yelled.

Harry smirked, “A nifty little spell I created over the summer break with some muggle inspiration.” Their eyes widened, “All I had to do was get a hand on one of their brooms, and I was able to learn exactly what spells were on it and how the brooms were made.”

“Bloody hell!” Alicia and Wood gasped.

“And of course, once I knew that, I could hardly stand to just make something that was only as good.” He buffed his fingernails. He stomped, and the other six crates popped open, allowing six more Raijins to rise.

Wood started to laugh hysterically, “Oh, we’re winning the Cup for sure!”

“Ahp ahp ahp!” Harry needed to nip that in the bud, “I’ll be giving them to the Puffs and Claws too, after we crush Slytherin next week.”

“What?!” The Flying Foxes shrieked, “But our advantage!”

“Do you want to win because you’re better than the other team, or because you have a better broom?” Harry asked blandly. They all flinched, “Exactly. Plus, I have to think of my future as well.” He smirked, “You’ll be my flying billboards. Imagine how many of these things I’ll sell once Slytherin loses every game they play on their fancy Nimbuses and end up in dead last.” The thought made Fred and George adopt dreamy expressions. “Course, if you like them, you’ll get to keep them.” He blew on his fingers nonchalantly.

“I feel so used.” Angelina grinned at him. “Alright Potter, you’ve got a deal.”

Harry nodded at the brooms, “Then pick your favorite. We’ll only be doing this at night so that we can keep it a secret until game day.” His friends all rushed for the brooms, smiling gleefully.

“And for a little challenge…” Dumbledore flicked his wand and over three dozen rings erupted from the tip of his wand, expanding into a racing course. “You only have a week to get used to them, but be careful.”

As the rest of them took off, Dumbledore pulled Harry aside. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you to replace the school brooms?” He smiled slightly at the brilliant lad.

“Of course! I was already planning on it.” He grinned sheepishly, “Just not with them.” He pointed over his shoulder, “That’s just asking to get some ickle firsties killed. These are meant to be professional brooms.”

“Indeed.” Dumbledore chuckled, “Well, go on and have fun. I can only give you an hour before I must insist you find your beds.”

Harry pursed his lips, “That’s not really going to be enough time for them to get familiarized…”

“I am aware.” Dumbledore nodded, “What I can do is give you all a Portkey a bit past the mountains if you insist on hiding them until the game.” His eyes danced in amusement, “Oh, if only I were a bit younger. I was quite the Keeper in my youth, though not, I’ll admit, as good as Mr. Wood.” Harry grinned at the bit of trivia he hadn’t known about at all.

…

Contrary to the Headmaster’s wishes, while the team had found their beds, they did not, in fact, find sleep. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were quite insistent on showing their appreciation for their presents, and said appreciation involved fewer clothes than Harry had been expecting. The quartet attended classes the next day in a zombie-like state from exhaustion.

The week passed quickly, and the team was totally energized once Saturday morning came. “What’s got you lot so excited?” Neville raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I thought you’d be nervous, having to face all of those Nimbuses.” Hermione patted him on the shoulder. As he shot them both a sly grin, her face fell, “Oh no, I know that look. Harry, what did you do?”

“You’ll see.” Harry laughed before taking a bite of his Bacon Egg and Cheese. “Oh, you’ll all see.”

“Oh dear…” Was all Neville could say, while the rest of the Gryffindors started chattering in excitement.

…

Lee Jordan was the commentator for the match, when really a neutral party should have been. No one in any of the years was quite as good as he was, however, “WELCOME EVERYONE, TO THE FIRST MATCH OF THE 1992-1993 HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP!” He roared, and the crowd roared with him. “STARTING WITH THE HOME TEAM FOR THIS MATCH, WE HAVE SLYTHERIN!” The green players flew onto the pitch, racing around the rim of the stadium in formation. “MARCUS FLINT, ADRIAN PUCEY, AND LUCIAN BOLE ARE YOUR CHASERS; AND WE HAVE TERENCE HIGGS AND CASSIUS WARRINGTON FOR YOUR BEATERS! BETWEEN THE POSTS IS MILES BLETCHLEY AND SEEKING IS DRACO MALFOY! AND AS WE ALL KNOW, THE ENTIRE TEAM IS RIDING NIMBUS TWO THOUSAND AND ONES!”

The Slytherins erupted in cheers, while the rest of the school booed. No one was happy about the damn Nimbuses except for those wearing green and silver.

“AND NOW, INTRODUCING THEIR OPPONENTS, THE GRYFFINDOR TEAM!” He would have gone on, except seven scarlet blurs erupted from the locker room, moving even faster than the Slytherins had. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?!” He gasped out as the crowds started to scream.

Harry raced ahead of the rest of the team, pushing his broom further than they were with a wee bit of magic into the Runes engraved onto the handle. And then in one smooth motion, he flipped and reversed, flying the broom backwards while he lifted off of it and thrust his legs into the air. He was only holding on via the handle. The school’s roaring and excitement reached a fever pitch, and they got so loud the school experienced a miniature earthquake.

Harry reversed again, landing on the broom fully as he caught up to his teammates. They all did another lap before slowing to a stop. “INCREDIBLE! WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE BROOMS?! THEY’RE NOT NIMBUSES!” Jordan screamed into the mic.

“That’s what I’d like to know!” McGonagall stood, but Dumbledore patted her on the shoulder and indicated for her to sit.

“Just a little something done under my supervision.” His eyes twinkled merrily as Minerva both felt her heart drop as well as butterflies flutter in her stomach in excitement and dread in equal measures.

Harry flew to Jordan and then brought the broom into a vertical state, slipping off it and standing on one of the kickstands, holding on with one arm while his other grabbed Jordan’s microphone. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” He roared, “ONE YEAR AGO WHEN I FIRST JOINED THE TEAM, I HAD A LITTLE DREAM! TO ONE DAY MAKE MY OWN BROOM AND HAVE IT NOT ONLY STAND UP TO BUT CRUSH THE COMPETITION!” Gasps rang through the air from every bit of the stadium. “I’D LIKE TO THANK THE SLYTHERIN QUIDDITCH TEAM, AND DRACO MALFOY IN PARTICULAR FOR BUYING THOSE NIMBUS TWO THOUSAND AND ONES! I CERTAINLY WOULDN’T HAVE EVEN STARTED ON THIS PROJECT UNTIL FOURTH OR FIFTH YEAR IF IT HADN’T BEEN FOR YOU!”

And with that, nearly the entire House of Slytherin began to glare at Malfoy, who was starting to sweat heavily. In the stands, his father Lucius was glaring at Harry so hard it was a miracle the lad didn’t spontaneously combust.

Harry grinned at the sight, “SO I’D LIKE TO WELCOME YOU ALL TO THE GRAND UNVEILING OF MY RAIJIN MARK I! AND DON’T WORRY! WHEN WE HOIST THE CUP AT THE END OF THE YEAR, IT’LL BE BECAUSE WE’RE THE BETTER PLAYERS NOT BECAUSE WE HAVE THE BETTER BROOMS!” Roaring from the other houses erupted, “SO I’LL BE GIFTING SEVEN MORE RAIJINS EACH TO OUR FRIENDS IN RAVENCLAW AND HUFFLEPUFF! I HOPE YOU’LL ENJOY THEM!” Pandemonium erupted in the stands as the Quidditch fanatics roared in approval.

“Bloody hell!” Minerva felt faint, and chanced a look at Severus, who looked utterly apoplectic. She turned to Albus. “Are they safe?”

“They were tested extensively.” The old man grinned, “Exciting times we live in, no? I suggest you enjoy the show, Minerva.”

The old cat let out a beaming, savage grin. “Oh, I shall.”

“SORRY TO OUR FRIENDS IN GREEN!” Harry winked over at Daphne, Hestia, Flora, Tracey, and Blaise, who looked very annoyed, “BUT YOU’LL HAVE TO STICK TO DADDY MALFOY’S BROOMS. THESE AREN’T FOR SALE YET.” Laughter erupted, and even his Slytherin friends looked amused at that. Oh, Malfoy’s two months of glory had just come crashing down. “LET’S GET THIS GAME STARTED!” He flipped the microphone to Lee, who was staring at him with outright worship in his eyes, and flew off to join the rest of the players.

Lee was quick to announce the Gryffindors as well, and then Madam Hooch forced Wood and Flint to shake hands. Wood looked incredibly smug while Flint looked like he wanted to murder the Gryffindor Captain with his eyes alone. Madam Hooch yelled out, “I want a clean game from all of you! On my whistle! Three… two… one!” She let out a shrill burst of sound, and the game erupted as all the balls sans the Snitch (which was already long gone) were released.

Harry soared into the air higher than anyone else, his eagle-eyes peeled for the Snitch. Malfoy had other ideas. “I’ll get you for this, Scarhead!” He roared, utterly furious at how Harry had undermined him, and was perfectly willing to take a foul if it meant knocking Harry off his broom.

Harry swerved around him with stunning maneuverability, but didn’t have a chance to reply as a Bludger tried to take his head off. He avoided it by the skin of his teeth, feeling it ruffle his hair as it passed.

“Close one, Harry!” George yelled as he streaked past him with his club raised, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. Harry saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, and his eyes narrowed as he saw the Bludger change direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

George again knocked it away, towards Malfoy this time, but again, the blasted thing seemed to be magnetically attracted to him. It pelted after Harry once more, and Harry was fairly certain it was surpassing regulation speeds. ‘Is someone going to fucking curse something in every game I play against Slytherin?’ He thought angrily as he weaved around it. This progressed for a while, and Harry was getting frustrated because every time he took his eyes off it to try and search for the Snitch, he was in danger of getting knocked off his broom.

Down below, the game was utterly brutal. The Slytherins were furious, and had already fouled twice in just the short five or so minutes of gameplay. Katie and Angelina got two penalty shots in, and their utterly superior teamwork had the score at 60-20 Gryffindor. But the game should have been further away than that. Both of their Beaters were having to take their eyes off the rest of the team to handle the rogue Bludger, so the other one was free to follow the rest of both teams. Ten of Slytherin’s points shouldn’t have been on the board, and they should have had at least twenty more.

“Someone’s tampered with this fucking Bludger!” Fred grunted as he tried sending it towards the ground, hoping that burying it would be enough. The Bludger straight up slowed down as it approached the ground, and shot right back up, directly at Harry.

“Time out!” George signaled Wood, and the whistle rang.

“What’s going on?” Angelina looked pissed, “I should have twenty more points than I do! Where have you two been?!”

George was even more pissed, “It’s last year all over again!” He spat.

“Instead of jinxing Harry’s broom, someone messed with one of the Bludgers! The damn thing won’t leave Harry alone! It hasn’t gone for anyone else all game and keeps reversing directions to get at him!” Fred hissed, “I’m surprised it’s not still trying to kill him now!”

“Shit.” Wood and Alicia cursed.

Katie looked worried, “What do we do? We can’t let Harry get hurt!”

Harry growled as he glared at the ball, “Fred, George, I can outfly that thing easily as long as you keep the other Bludger off me.” He told them, “Go protect Angelina, Alicia, and Katie. If we’re up over a hundred and fifty on them, it won’t matter if I can’t find the Snitch.”

“Harry, that’s crazy!” Angelina put her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

“Good thing too, otherwise it’d never work.” Harry shot back, that mad grin she loved on his face.

Alicia hissed, “If you die I’ll kill you!”

Harry laughed, “That fucking thing wants me? It’ll get me as soon as the game’s over. It won’t like it.”

Play resumed, and Harry shot off alone this time. The Bludger was chasing him, but he would have been faster even on his old Nimbus. And the Raijin was leagues nimbler than his old broom. ‘They want to cheat? Fine then. Take Over: Beast Soul.’ His eyes became literal eagle eyes and his vision sharpened even more than usual. He simply kept flying around with his head on a swivel, relying on his speed as well as Fred and George to ensure he only had to rely on the one Bludger on his tail. By now, it was incredibly obvious to literally everyone that something was wrong with one of the Bludgers. It was doing nothing other than chasing his tail.

Finally, he saw the Snitch, and his stomach sank as he realized it was literally a few feet above Malfoy’s ear. They weren’t up enough to win if Malfoy caught it! He knew he had to do something, so he swerved his broom to the right, faking a look of incredible concentration as he dove for the ground.

Malfoy saw it, and mercifully took the bait. He shot off after Harry, his broom fast enough to at least give a chase, even if Harry would still win in a straight line. Once he was far enough away, Harry jerked up on the handle and pushed down on the kickstands. He performed an almost complete reversal and shot off into the air, the Bludger swinging to follow him and almost whacking Malfoy on the way. The boy yelped as he dodged it, but Harry was now far ahead of him in the race to the Snitch. He chased, but his stomach sank as he realized there was no way he could catch him. Not unless a miracle happened!

And said miracle came from the Slytherin Beaters. Higgs managed to hit the other Bludger at Harry, and Fred and George were both too far away to send it elsewhere. Harry let out a howl of agony as the Bludger smashed right into his elbow and shattered it, even knocking off his armguard and sending him spinning through the air.

Huffing in pain, he reversed hands though he could barely make a fist from the pain. The urge to just launch a spell at the damn Bludgers to destroy them was great, and grew greater when Malfoy shot past him.

He chased, controlling the broom with mostly his offhand as he caught up to Malfoy. The blonde tried to backfist him, which he had honestly been expecting and managed to block. His return blow broke Malfoy’s nose and sent him careening away, but Harry almost slipped from his broom. With a burst of speed, he caught up to the Snitch near the ground and closed his fist on it.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to hold on to his broom with how weak his dominant arm was, and he just barely managed to spin so he’d hit the sand back first. It still knocked the wind out of him and made him see stars as he flipped head over heels a few times, before sliding to a stop, his vision swimming. His broom proved how good it was by simply flipping twice before stopping in midair and gently floating after him.

As he stared at the sky, seeing double, he realized the damn Bludger was still trying to kill him. He rolled around, howling as it jostled his shattered arm, and just barely avoided the ball as it smashed into the sand next to him. It went up for another go and he whirled around and threw his good hand into the air, allowing the pain to focus him. He still had the Snitch in hand so he made a fist, hoping this would still work. “Hadō #33. Sōkatsui!” He was still surprised he managed the incantation as the bright blue ball of fire shot upwards. The Bludger exploded into a thousand pieces and rained around him as he groaned, his good arm falling and letting go of the Snitch as he blacked out.

When he came to, he saw a glitter of teeth, “Oh no, not you!” He moaned, trying to push away.

“Poor boy doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Lockhart loudly proclaimed to the anxious crowd of people pressing around them. Hell, even Malfoy and the Slytherins were there, even if most of them only wanted to ensure Harry was dead or worse. “Not to worry, Harry. I’m about to fix your arm.”

“Gt wy from me!” Harry slurred slightly as his vision sharpened. “Take me to the Hospital Wing.” He tried to crawl away, but Lockhart already had his wand pointed at his arm. “No don’t!”

“Brackium Emendo!” Lockhart incanted, and Harry’s stomach sank.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at Harry’s shoulder and spread all the way down to his fingertips. It felt as though his arm was being deflated. It no longer hurt, but also didn’t even feel like an arm. People around them gasped, and then the sounds of a camera going off filled the air. Harry started breathing heavily as he looked at his arm, and found what looked like a thick, flesh-colored rubber glove instead. He tried to move his fingers, and absolutely nothing happened. Lockhart hadn’t mended his bones. He had removed them.

“A-ah,” Lockhart stammered. “Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is-”

They did not find out what the point was, because Harry, his entire body filled with rage, surged forward like he had rockets under his back. One moment he was laying down, and then next he had shot to standing, wild lightning crackling around him as he buried his left fist into Lockhart’s jaw. He was roaring with unconscious use of his Tiger Soul, “IT’S BRACHIO EMENDUM YOU FUCKING MORON!” The fop didn’t even have a chance to say anything before he was literally flying through the air and flipping over the crowd. It was a miracle Lockhart was even conscious, even if his jaw was quite broken and his teeth went flying everywhere. His face was even singed from the lightning.

Several girls in the crowd shrieked in shock as Harry glared daggers at the fallen ‘teacher,’ huffing like he ran a marathon as he tried to contain his rage. “Mr. Potter, what in the world have yo-” McGonagall started to say as she parted the sea of students, before she looked down at his limp, rubbery arm.

“Potter hit Professor Lockhart!” One of the Slytherin team’s players yelled, eager to get Harry into trouble.

“Lockhart removed his bones!” Susan spat furiously.

The Flying Foxes wanted to hit Lockhart themselves, and Angelina was quick to say, “Madam Pomfrey could have fixed his arm in seconds! Now it’s going to take hours and be extremely painful! I would have fucking hit him too!”

“Language, Miss Johnson.” McGonagall said, before sighing, “Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. No matter how justified, you can’t hit a teacher. Come along now. Let’s get that arm fixed.” The Gryffindors started to hiss as she led them away, and Snape, who almost looked amused, levitated the now-unconscious Lockhart behind them. McGonagall leaned towards Harry, “A hundred and ten points to Gryffindor for a fantastic catch while avoiding that tampered Bludger.” She murmured to him, ‘And for breaking Lockhart’s jaw.’ She thought, even if she didn’t say anything. That almost put Harry in a good mood.

…

The rest of that day was a blur honestly. Skele-Gro was utterly disgusting, and Harry spat out his first sip. It was so bad Madam Pomfrey had to numb his tongue just for him to get it down. He was then confined to bed rest and spent the rest of the day in fitful discomfort until he finally managed to fall into restless sleep.

And then he woke up to someone sponging his forehead, and when he saw Dobby, he nearly saw red. If the Elf had been on the other side of the bed, Harry even would have succeeded in grabbing his throat to choke the little bastard out. He managed to drag some information from Dobby, confirming that he had indeed closed the barrier at the train station, and that he had cursed the Bludger during the game, and even let slip some minor info regarding the Chamber. The Elf had been horrified when Harry, rather than giving him a death threat, indulged his inner Slytherin and threatened to tell Malfoy what Dobby was doing. No matter what Harry said, he couldn’t get Dobby to spill the beans on when the Chamber had last been opened, which is what he really wanted.

Before anything else could happen, Dobby was forced to flee as another victim of the Chamber of Secrets was brought in. Colin Creevy had also been petrified just as Mrs. Norris had been. Apparently the fool boy had been trying to sneak Harry some food. Maybe hoping Harry would actually pose for a picture for him if he got in Harry’s good graces.

And now he was a statue in the infirmary, and his camera was fried. But that told Harry that whatever was hurting people could damage even inanimate objects. He wondered if merely looking at whatever it was enough to harm you.

When he was let out of the Hospital Wing, he was surprised by the affection he was shown by some of his friends. The Carrow twins outright had dreamy smiles as they hugged him for the first time, though he laughed when they said it was for knocking Lockhart on his ass. Pretty much all of the girls (even Hermione) were now on the ‘We Hate Fophart’ train, with Parvati and Hermione being especially disgusted over how stupid they had been regarding the handsome man earlier in the year. His punch had apparently been harder to fix than expected, and the fop was so busy crying and trying to fix the damage to his smile that he had canceled classes for the next week.

That was certainly something to celebrate. After he informed them of what he had overheard and seen, they all hunkered down, trying to figure out what it was that was hurting people in the school. Daphne, Hestia, and Flora were all certain that the monster had to be some sort of snake, being Slytherin’s monster after all, but none of them could figure out what it could be.

Then, he finally went back to Gryffindor Tower, and his three Chasers welcomed him back, murmuring in his ear that they waited for him to return before celebrating.

That was a good night.

Some time passed, and then a Dueling Club was announced. It irritated Harry seeing as that was partially his club already, but understood as he wasn’t opening it to the other years. He just hoped it was Flitwick who was helming it, like their own club.

Instead, Lockhart was the leader, and Harry smirked right at the man when, for the first time all year, the fop glared at him with actual hatred in his eyes. The light scar was almost completely covered up, but his smile was slightly crooked. He certainly wouldn’t be winning Witch Weekly’s prize for the best smile any time soon. Not anymore.

The club was actually amazing. They all got to watch Snape put Lockhart on his ass again, and by now, no one was really buying Lockhart’s excuses anymore, no matter the airs he put on. Lockhart had absolutely zero control over the club, merely screaming ‘DISARM ONLY’ to students he had yet to even teach the spell to.

It was utterly hysterical. Basically, everyone not in 4th year or up, or in Harry’s club flailed around like idiots.

And then Harry’s amusement died as Lockhart and Snape pit him against Malfoy, and the idiot ignored Lockhart’s instructions and summoned a snake. Snape would have gotten rid of it, but Lockhart stuck his nose in once again, using a spell that sent the snake flying into the air, before crashing down on the ground. All he accomplished was pissing it off, and it landed right in front of Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Harry wasn’t sure what possessed him to think a snake would listen, but he yelled at it to get away from him. And to his surprise, it turned and looked at him, before slithering off and curling around itself on the stage. He smiled at Justin, but blinked as he saw the entire crowd looking at him in shock and fear. “…Is there something on my face?” He asked curiously, and was surprised when Hestia grabbed his wrist and dragged him off the stage.

The bemused young man was dragged out of the hall as his friends all followed, and once they were secure, several of them started to yell at him for being an idiot. Harry was confused, up until they realized he had no idea what they were on about and explained Parseltongue to him. He was completely shocked to find out he could apparently speak a completely magical language, and groaned hard when they explained that the idiots would think he was the Heir of Slytherin now. And then he noticed Ernie was missing, and he’d admit his heart fell a little bit.

True to their assumptions, about three-fourths of the school started to treat him like he was poisonous. About half of their club resigned, which just made him exasperated. If any of them had even a single brain cell to rub together, they would have realized being friends with the supposed Heir of Slytherin was the smarter play.

Harry did start to get pissed off when none of the cowards would say anything to his face, even if they were so eager to yap behind his back. He was really happy that most of his core group of friends was so tight-knit. The rest of the school could vanish for all he cared.

He got into a hell of an argument with Ernie Macmillan, a former clubmate and former friend, when it became clear that he was a moron. Harry pointed out that he got the snake to leave Justin alone, but apparently Ernie wasn’t convinced by his eyeballs. When he accused Harry of targeting him because of him being a Muggleborn, Harry yelled back, “One of my best friends is a Muggleborn you fucking boob!” Before he left the room in disgust. He was still steaming mad when he crashed into Hagrid a few minutes later. The big man revealed a (very large) handful of dead roosters as he tried to cheer Harry up.

Harry was honestly tempted to skiv off next class, but it was Transfiguration, and he knew Professor McGonagall wouldn’t let that slide. He needed to go get his stuff, and that was when he tripped over something. He was utterly stunned to find Justin and Nearly-Headless Nick both petrified.

A different Harry would have been ‘caught in the act,’ as it were. This Harry merely blurred away and bashed open the door to the Transfiguration classroom. “Professor!”

“Mr. Potter! What is the meaning of this?!” McGonagall cried out as half her class jumped. She then saw how pale he looked, “What’s the matter?” She asked, growing deathly serious.

“Another attack.” He said hoarsely, and she sprang towards him as several in the class started to shriek.

“Show m-”

“ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!” The voice of the resident poltergeist Peeves echoed through the halls.

And then it was pandemonium as students erupted from the safety of their classrooms to find the petrified student and ghost. That was scarier than any muggleborn getting petrified because it meant even the deceased could be affected by whatever this was.

And then Ernie, showing his true, cowardly colors, started belting out that it was Harry. Peeves made things worse with a stupid song that had Harry wanting to see if Kidō would actually kill a ghost outside of the Bleach universe. Despite having been the one to report it, Harry was still taken to Dumbledore’s office, where he got to witness a phoenix’s burning day.

He talked with Dumbledore for a while, and revealed what Dobby had done to the old man, mentioning whose House Elf his Slytherin friends had told him he was. Dumbledore had looked truly disappointed, but thanked him for the information.

Harry quickly gathered his friends as soon as possible. He noticed Susan and Hannah looked a little nervous, but everyone else was fine. “What the hell could it be?” He asked, pacing in front of them.

“I’m sorry, Harry, but we have no idea.” Daphne looked very frustrated. “There’s nothing I can think of that would be doing this!”

Padma spoke up, “Why don’t we go over all the facts.” She said, “Anything strange that we can think of that’s happened this year, other than Dobby.”

Neville crossed his arms, “Well, obviously whatever is doing this is turning people into petrified statues.”

“The scary thing is that it affected even Nearly-Headless Nick.” Hermione said. “What can affect even ghosts?”

Susan swallowed heavily, “W-Whatever it is does it unseen, and only attacks targets who are isolated… One, maybe two targets at most.”

“It fried Creevy’s camera.” Hestia and Flora chorused.

Something came to mind after no one spoke for a moment as he remembered Hagrid barging into Dumbledore’s office still holding his dead roosters. “Something has killed all the school roosters.”

“WHAT?!” Daphne stood, going even paler than normal, “W-What did you say?” They all looked at her in worry.

“I saw Hagrid before the attack.” Harry said, “He had a bunch of roosters in hand that had been attacked and killed. He thought it was either foxes or a Blood-Sucking Bugbear.”

“Oh Merlin.” Daphne’s knees went weak, and she almost fell.

Hestia caught her and settled her in her seat, “It doesn’t match.” She said softly, shaking her head.

“What are you thinking?” Parvati asked, looking worried, “Tell us.”

Flora swallowed heavily, “Basilisk.”

Several of them sucked in gasps of air. “Explain.” Harry said sharply.

Hestia shook her head, “I don’t think that can be right.” She said, “But okay. Basilisks are the Kings of all Snakes, growing utterly massive.”

“Spiders are terrified of them.” Susan threw in.

“And they are powerful enough to make most dragons look like friendly lizards.” Flora said, “Its venom is said to be able to destroy almost anything.”

“The cry of a rooster is said to kill it.” Hestia took over, “But the most important thing is that it can kill with just a look into its eyes. That’s why it doesn’t make sense. If it really was a basilisk all of them would be dead, not petrified.”

“But what else could it be?!” Daphne sounded frustrated.

“I don’t know Daph, Hestia and Flora have a point.” Tracey sounded dubious, “If it’s truly this big honking school bus of a snake, how has it not been seen yet? Even just a tail…”

“And Hestia is right. Justin, Mrs. Norris, and Creevey would be dead right now if it was a basilisk…” Hannah said, shivering in her seat. “The gaze kills.”

“…No, Daphne is right.” Harry said, face pale. “It is a fucking basilisk.”

“…Explain.” The Patil twins were the ones with the twinspeak for once.

“Nick was already dead.” He said, “It couldn’t kill him again.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, “And… and if Justin saw it first, through Nick…”

Padma stiffened, “There was water all over the place when Mrs. Norris got attacked.”

“Reflections.” Daphne lost the rest of the blood in her face.

“Creevey’s camera.” Susan gasped.

“Little idiot tried to take a picture of it.” Hestia moaned, “It probably saved his life.”

“But how in the world is it getting around?” Neville asked in frustration.

For that, no one had an answer.

…

He and his friends had immediately shared their discovery with the professors, and while closing the school would probably have been the smarter idea, Hogwarts had been searched extensively for the lost Chamber before. Closing the school also meant never catching the culprit, and they would have to stay closed indefinitely for the attacks to stop. There was zero way that was ever going to happen. Instead, all students were instructed to walk around with mirrors, and to never turn any corners without peeking with them first. They were also told to stay together in groups of five or more, as the basilisk seemed oddly reticent to attack non-isolated targets.

Christmas came and went, and while Harry would love to say that he was able to rule out everyone who stayed in the castle, that legitimately could just be the perpetrator being smart enough to know they were more likely to get caught. He went to the kitchens, and ended up discovering a hidden room with the help of the Elves. The Come-and-Go room, as they called it, was magical in a world of magic. Harry finally had a space to train the higher level Kidō spells… what few of them he could cast, at any rate. Hestia and Flora (the only ones in his friend group who had also stayed at the castle) were equally happy regarding the room. The highlight of the break was most certainly fitting them into muggle sports bras and track pants.

After everyone came back, the merry attitude diminished, with everyone looking around every corner for the damned snake (that most of the student body did not know about, to avoid a panic.) And yet, nothing seemed to happen. For several months, no one heard a peep from the perpetrator. The most excitement anyone saw was the dwarves that Lockhart hired to read valentines all day on Valentine’s Day. The valentines were so embarrassing, and Harry dodged them at all costs, spending most of his time with the girls in his club. Whenever the dwarves cornered him, he vanished with Shunpo. Doing that for an entire day had been tedious as all hell, and he had no way of knowing the consequences of those actions.

The very next day, Harry heard a voice coming from the walls for the first time. “Kill this time… So hungry… let me rip… tear!” He tried to follow it, realizing that the basilisk had to be traveling via the pipes. He heard an angry exclamation from the large snake before the voice vanished, and his fury ignited when he turned a corner. He found Hermione, Hannah, and Padma petrified, and the terror in the castle reached a fever pitch. The Patils may not have been British, but they were Purebloods. Which meant that no one was safe.

Harry was furious. He didn’t even get a chance to discuss anything with any of the teachers, because everyone had been ordered to their dormitories. And it only kept getting worse. The next morning, they were all escorted to breakfast, and neither Dumbledore nor Hagrid were at the head table. Not to mention Malfoy was strutting around like a peacock. When Harry finally managed to speak to Professor McGonagall, he was informed that Professor Dumbledore had been ousted from the castle by Lucius Malfoy and the other governors, and that Hagrid had been arrested by the Minister for Magic: Cornelius Fudge.

Harry had been utterly confounded by that, and asked her on what grounds Hagrid had been arrested. With an exhausted sigh, she informed him that Hagrid had been expelled fifty years ago under suspicion of having opened the Chamber due to an Acromantula that he had been caught with. The Acromantula had disappeared, and the attacks stopped afterwards, and so Hagrid’s guilt had been assumed to be true. Now, fifty years later, the Minister had taken Hagrid away despite Dumbledore’s protests that an Acromantula could not be doing this. And, it had to be said, not because he actually believed Hagrid was guilty, but because the Ministry ‘had to be seen doing something.’

Harry thanked her and sought out his friends. It was much more difficult now with the school basically on lockdown, but Harry found a cheat code in the Room of Requirement. With everyone asleep, he was able to sneak out with Neville and Parvati using the Cloak and make it to the Room, which wasn’t far. They also had advanced warning due to his Parseltongue, and made it there safely. Once done, he used the room to open a door directly into the Hufflepuff second-year girl’s dorm, and Parvati roused Susan and got her in with them. It was only a few minutes more to have their reduced but no less furious group together within the Room of Requirement.

He relayed what McGonagall had told him, and Susan cursed, “Damn it all! We knew it wasn’t an Acromantula! How could Fudge do this?”

“Easily.” Daphne said, bitterly. “The Minister has a very disproportionate amount of power.”

“We have to clear Hagrid’s name!” Parvati harrumphed.

“But how will we do it?” Neville asked, his eyes burning with fury. He was utterly pissed off that Hermione, the one he was closest with, was currently a statue in the Hospital Wing, and that innocent men were being blamed for it.

“The only way is to find the Chamber.” Flora said.

Hestia agreed, “And then we get the Aurors involved.”

“Oh yes,” Tracey threw her hands up in frustration, “Sounds simple! Just find something even Professor Dumbledore couldn’t locate!”

Before an argument could erupt, Harry cut across them, “What happened to the Acromantula?” He asked, “They’re long-lived, aren’t they? And they can speak once they grow old enough.”

“I have no idea.” Susan said, huffing. “Is there any way we can find out?”

“I can ask one of the ghosts!” Tracey perked up, “The Baron always stays in the Slytherin common room at night.” She stood and made for the forming door, “Be right back.”

They all chatted lowly for a few moments, and then Tracey came back, looking pale. “You’ve got to be shitting me. It escaped and settled inside the Forbidden Forest! There’s a whole fucking colony there now! No wonder the damn thing is off limits!”

“Not for me.” Harry growled, and before their eyes, the doorway vanished and reappeared.

“Are you crazy?!” Susan and Neville bellowed, looking terrified.

“I’ll be fine.” Harry said, shrugging off his robes, revealing his toned arms and strong body. The door opened and revealed the outside of the school. “I have no idea how long it will take me to find them, so go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Wait, we’re goi-” Flora stood as well, but Harry had already vanished in a burst of speed.

“That fool!” Hestia hissed.

“We are learning that technique.” Flora clenched her fists.

Hestia’s face was red with anger. “I don’t care how many times we have to break our legs to do it!”

Harry blasted into the forest and then turned into an eagle, flying high above and looking for webs. It took over an hour of sweeping back and forth before he found what he was looking for, and he landed outside of the nest. He could see massive spiders surging towards him, and he yelled, “TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER. I AM A FRIEND OF HAGRID’S!”

The spiders clicked rapidly, before the largest one looked at him, “Come.” Harry, his skin still feeling cold from the suspense, put on a fearless visage as he was allowed into the hollow. “Aragog!” It called, “Aragog!”

A truly gargantuan, old spider the size of an elephant emerged. “What is it?” It said, clicking its pincers rapidly.

“Man.” The younger spider clicked, “Claims to be friend of Hagrid’s.”

“Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before.” Aragog’s pincers clicked irritably.

“He didn’t.” Harry said, “He was accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago. Falsely accused when he was caught with you! And now the Ministry has arrested him and sent him to Azkaban for something he never did!”

The spiders erupted in furious clicking. Aragog groaned, “This cannot be! Hagrid would never hurt anyone!”

“I know!” Harry shouted back, “That’s why we’re trying to clear his name! We know you never attacked anyone at Hogwarts, and we already know what did. Your ancient enemy.”

The furious clicking droned even louder, “Do not dare speak its name in my home.” Aragog hissed, not unlike its enemy.

“I will not.” Harry said, “But we need to know where the Chamber of Secrets is. And to do that, we need all the information we can find.”

Aragog and his brood settled, “Hagrid was banished from the school after a girl died and he was caught with me.”

“Who died?” Harry asked immediately, “And who caught him with you?”

“I know not her name.” Aragog said, “But I do know she was found dead in a bathroom.” The spider clicked furiously, “But the one who caught Hagrid… that name I do know. He was Tom Riddle. A Slytherin.”

Harry let out a furious hiss, “I should have fucking known. It’s always fucking Voldemort. Thank you, Aragog. Hopefully that’s enough info to figure out where that damn Chamber is. I will get out of your hair.”

“Leave?” Aragog said slowly, “My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into our midst.”

“Do not do something you will regret.” Lightning crackled around his form, driving the scuttling spiders away, “I do not wish to harm you as you are friends of Hagrid as well. But if you attack me, that deal’s off. And I assure you, it will not be you walking away.”

Aragog looked furious and clicked rapidly, but he could see that they likely wouldn’t come out the victors. Not against lightning. Their whole hollow would be on fire in moments. And one of his children communicated Harry’s ability to turn into a bird. “Very well. Leave. And do not come back. This will be the only time we speak.” The oldest of the spiders declared.

Harry bowed, and then vanished. The spiders reacted with shock.

…

The next day, they were escorted to the Great Hall for breakfast, and they all broke tradition and took a seat at the Ravenclaw table. None of them noticed Fred, George, Ron, and Percy fretting that Ginny had been feeling too unwell to make it to her classes today. Hestia, Flora, Daphne, and Susan were all glaring at him as they sat, but that ended the moment Harry told them what he’d discovered.

“She died in a bathroom?” Daphne asked carefully.

“Yes.” Harry said, “What if she never left?”

“Moaning Myrtle.” Parvati groaned, “Merlin, it can’t be that easy, can it?”

“It’s a lead, at least.” Harry said, “And fucking infuriating that no one bothered to ask the fucking ghost how she died. What, are they suddenly forbidden from speaking if doing so will help solve a mystery?” He snarked.

“We need to tell the Aurors.” Susan and Neville chorused together.

“We don’t know for sure yet.” Daphne said, “They won’t come down on a hunch.”

“Yeah, even if she died in the bathroom, there’s no guarantee that’s where the entrance is. For all we know it came out of the toilet and killed her. We need to be sure we’ve found it before we call them. That way they can end this.” Flora and Hestia both spoke at the same time, their synchronization as perfect as always.

“Merlin, what I would do to hug Padma right now…” Parvati let a tear escape, “I can only thank magic that she was petrified and not killed…”

“She’ll be awake soon enough, Parv.” Harry put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle massage.

“So, what’s the game plan?” Tracey asked, expression hard.

“When we head to our classes, I’ll slip away.” Harry said, “I have the cloak and I can flash there and back. I’ll confirm whether that’s the entrance or not, and if it is, we’ll go tell Professor McGonagall.”

“You are not going alone again.” Daphne hissed. “I had nightmares all bloody night!”

“Right.” Parvati’s face hardened. “We’re going with you and that’s final.”

“Fine.” Harry grunted, “But only you two. I can’t carry all of you with Shunpo. It’ll be difficult enough just with you two.”

“And you are teaching that to us.” Hestia and Flora glared, “Post-haste.”

“It’ll take a while, but sure.” Harry said.

With their plan set, and with Gryffindors and Slytherins having History of Magic together, the three were able to slip away. They made it to Myrtle’s bathroom quickly, with both girls blushing as he had to carry them. “Myrtle!” Daphne called.

“Are you in here?” Parvati asked.

The dead girl floated through her stall, “What do you want?” She asked, “And this is a girl’s bathroom, not a boy’s.” She glared at Harry.

“We want to ask how you died.” Harry stepped forward and asked the question on their minds.

“Oooh, it was dreadful.” Myrtle’s entire countenance changed. She looked happy and excited for what appeared to be the first time, ever. As if no one had ever asked such a flattering question. “It happened right in here, in this very stall. I remember it so well! I’d hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, but then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So, I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then…” Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. “I died.”

“How?” Daphne asked intently.

“Not a clue.” She shrugged, “I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…” She looked dreamily at Harry. “And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she’d ever laughed at my glasses.”

“Where did you see them?” Parvati asked excitedly.

“There.” She pointed vaguely to the sink in front of her toilet.

Harry turned and looked at the sink. He examined it closely with the two girls, going over every inch of it. They looked everywhere, including the pipes below. They were confounded that it appeared completely ordinary.

Right up until Daphne found it. “Here!” She pointed, and Harry saw a snake scratched into the side of the copper pipe.

“That one’s never worked.” Myrtle said brightly as Daphne tried to turn it.

“Parseltongue.” Parvati said, “Harry, say something in Parseltongue.”

Harry had practiced with the ability after he discovered it. He didn’t care in the slightest what people thought of it. It was a useful ability and so he would make use of it. “$Open!$” He hissed out, and then they all backed away as the sink began to glow and move. It sank right into the floor, revealing a large hole more than big enough for even Hagrid to slide through with ease.

“We did it.” Daphne breathed, elated. “We can end this!”

“Then let’s do it. $Close.$” He hissed firmly, and the sink reappeared. “Let’s go-” Echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall’s voice, magically magnified.

“All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please.” Their Deputy Head declared.

“Oh no.” Parvati ground her teeth, “Not now.”

“Let’s go to the staff room.” Harry said, before grabbing them and vanishing. They burst inside and Harry Requipped his Cloak, hiding them away.

“Why are we hiding?” Daphne asked, deadpan.

“Let’s hear what happened first. We can reveal ourselves after.” Harry whispered back as the door banged open. They listened, horrified as it was revealed that Susan and Tracey had been petrified near the Slytherin common room. And worse, Ginny Weasley had apparently been taken into the Chamber.

Harry cursed inwardly as he realized all three of them had failed a spot check. Apparently the words ‘Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.’ -had been written right underneath the original message!

And as McGonagall was declaring the end of Hogwarts, Lockhart burst in, apologizing for being late. And then Snape made a brilliant move and called Lockhart out, telling him that his moment had come at last, and that he could now go to the Chamber and rescue Ginny. Apparently his yapping had included the fact that he ‘knew where the Chamber was.’

And as the stunned trio failed to react, the teachers bustled out. “What do we do now…” Parvati hissed as they came out from beneath the Cloak, “They’re going to close the school!”

“I have a plan.” Harry grinned, “You saw how terrified Lockhart was. We’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

“I feel bad for the basilisk. Poor thing would get indigestion.” Daphne quipped, her face still milky white from shock.

…

What followed ended up being predictable in the extreme to anyone who knew Harry. They found Lockhart, and the man confessed to being a fraud before trying to Obliviate them. Harry knocked him out before he was even close to getting the spell off, and Daphne bound him tightly in ropes he would be unable to escape from. Especially not with Parvati smashing his wand to bits.

And then Harry declared he was going to go kill the basilisk himself, and it took several minutes for him to convince them to go find the teachers. When a terrified and crying Parvati asked why he was going, he merely raised an eyebrow and told her he’d be going even if they did get the aurors. They would need him to open the damn Chamber. And something told him that if they waited, Ginny was guaranteed to die. Who knew what the heir wanted with her.

And so, a crying pair of girls had hugged the stuffing out of him, before swearing this was the last time he was leaving them behind. Harry made quick work of getting into the Chamber while the two girls went to expose the fraud for who he was.

Harry descended and wrinkled his nose as he landed in a pile of grime and small bones. “Ugh, disgusting.” He cast a quick cleaning spell on himself, “I suppose it makes sense that it would be starving if this is all it’s had to eat.” He smiled grimly, hoping he wasn’t going to find Ginny missing down here. “Lumos.”

He walked down the cavern, his feet crunching with every rat skull he stepped on, his heartrate spiking. He came across a shed skin, the fear and exhilaration actually feeling a bit painful. The skin was a vivid, poisonous green, and utterly massive. He bit his bottom lip, before he pointed his index finger at it. “Hadō #4: Byakurai.” He said, and the lightning blasted from the digit and struck the skin.He

It bounced right off, hitting the ground and digging a hole. Harry cut the spell off and stared at the utterly flawless skin. It wasn’t even singed. “…Shit.” He let out a hissed breath. He wasn’t willing to try a stronger spell than that. If it bounced, he could destroy the whole tunnel. “Guess we’re going in blind.” He said, moving forward, before pausing. He found a loose stone and levitated it, turning it into a blindfold with a quick jab of his wand. He slipped it over his forehead, though he didn’t cover his eyes yet. A second, slightly larger boulder levitated behind him as he charged onwards.

He continued to walk, until after one last bend, he came across a solid vault door with a seven-headed serpent protecting it. “$Open.$” He hissed at it, and from the bottom, a snake began to slither around the perimeter. Each of the seven heads retracted as the moving one passed them, until the snake had done a full loop around the door. And then it opened, swinging towards him.

The Chamber of Secrets was huge. Bigger than the Great Hall by more than double. Huge snake statues adorned the walls to the left and right as he continued on. And at the very end of the hall was a gigantic statue of Salazar Slytherin’s head, as tall as the Chamber itself. A large moat lay in front of the statue, still and untouched.

Ginny was lying on the ground near the water, completely unmoving. Harry appeared next to her in a burst of Shunpo, dropping to his knees next to her. “Please don’t be dead.” Her face was as white as marble, and her skin was utterly fridged. He felt for her pulse, and sighed in relief that she was still alive. But she was weak. Very weak. He couldn’t actually see anything wrong with her. No obvious marks from the basilisk. So why was she…

“She won’t wake.” A soft voice came from behind. He was on his feet in an instant, staring at the tall, dark-haired, fairly handsome boy leaning on the nearest pillar. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he realized the boy was… blurred around the edges. Fuzzy. As if he was both there and not. Hell, even his color was washed out. As if he were a black and white image that had just barely found color.

“And why is that?” Harry asked, his eyes narrowed. “She is alive.”

“But only just.” The boy responded.

“You’re not a ghost.” Harry said, “And not a Poltergeist either.”

“No, nothing so plebian.” The boy smirked humorlessly, “A memory. Preserved in a diary for fifty years.” He pointed, and Harry’s eyes narrowed as they landed on the nondescript book.

“That must be some memory.” Harry moved over to the diary, not taking his eyes off the boy, before he kneeled and touched the diary, his hand glowing with the spark of Structural Grasping. And in an instant, Harry’s stomach utterly revolted at the knowledge of what this diary was. And what it had done and was doing to Ginny. “Tom Riddle.” He hissed as he got to his feet.

“Oh?” Tom raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t even look at it. That’s a fascinating spell you have there.”

“And a disgusting one you have, Horcrux.” Harry cracked his knuckles as Tom’s eyes widened and he jerked in shock.

“How do you-” Tom said, before stopping, “I see. Little Ginny had been so impressed by you, Harry. I had thought it nothing more than a girlhood crush on a legend. But I suppose you are impressive.” His eyes looked hungry. “I’d hoped to speak with you for quite some time. Little Ginny’s life and soul has fed me for months. I started slow, of course. Offering advice. Help. And so, she grew to trust me, spilling all her pitiful worries. How her brothers tease her… how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books… how-” Tom’s eyes glinted with dark amusement. “-how she didn’t think famous, great Harry Potter would ever like her because he was already surrounded by girls much prettier than her. How he refused to even listen to her Valentine. It was almost easy to get her to attack your little girlfriends.” He let out a dark laugh as Harry’s eyebrow twitched, “It was all just so boring. But I’m a patient man. I was sympathetic. Kind. She loved me. ‘No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom… I’m so glad I’ve got this diary to confide in… It’s like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…’ Charming her was so easy I almost felt bad.”

“Liar.” Harry replied, glaring. “You possessed her, forcing her to open the Chamber. You forced her to set loose the basilisk. And you did it all with a smile on your face and a laugh in your heart. You delighted in it, didn’t you, Voldemort.”

Tom again looked surprised, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to know of that.”

“Know what?” Harry smirked, “That the good old champion of Purebloods is nothing more than a Halfblood himself?”

Tom sneered, “Oh yes. My filthy Muggle father. I could hardly use his name forever. The blood of Salazar Slytherin himself flows in my veins, through my mother’s side. I would never keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch. No. I fashioned myself a new name. A name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I became the greatest sorcerer in the world.”

“Quite a dream.” Harry smiled nastily, “Not that you ever succeeded.”

“What was that?” An ugly look came across Tom’s face.

Harry chuckled, “You never became the greatest sorcerer in the world. Everyone knows you fled like a coward every time Albus Dumbledore showed up.”

“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” Tom hissed furiously.

“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by an inept Ministry and a corrupt and moronic Board of Governors.” Harry corrected with a chuckle, “And we both know you never would have been this blatant were the greatest sorcerer in the world still in the building.”

Tom opened his mouth, but froze. Music was coming from somewhere. Tom whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber as Harry directed his attention towards the entrance. The music was growing louder, and then a burst of flame erupted in front of the vault door, which had closed after Harry had walked inside.

Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix companion, flew into the Chamber from within the flames. Unlike when Harry had last seen him, the bird looked fantastic. He was the size of a swan with gorgeous crimson feathers interlaced with golden ones. In his talons was a ragged bundle. As he raced towards Harry, he released his payload, and the bundle dropped into Harry’s hands. Fawkes landed heavily, but not roughly on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry grinned brightly, “Hullo Fawkes. You’re looking handsome today.” Fawkes let out a cry of approval as Harry gave him scritches.

“A phoenix.” Tom’s lips quivered as he looked at Harry’s hands, “And the Sorting Hat.” He began to laugh, “This is what Dumbledore sends his great defender? A songbird, and an old hat.” He roared with laughter, actually holding his gut. Harry said nothing, knowing no spell he knew would be able to kill Tom or destroy his diary. Oh, how he wished he had a Zanpakutō. No doubt that would do the trick.

He must have muttered it because he felt the bundle in his hands grow heavier, “Well it may not be one of those.” The Sorting Hat had been quite amused at the memories it had seen in Harry’s head over a year ago now, “But perhaps this will do?”

Harry’s hands closed around the hilt of a sword, and Structural Grasping told him exactly what it was. And how it was made and every spell that went into it, though that was for another day. He pulled the sword from the Hat. Tom startled at the sight of Godric Gryffindor’s blade appearing in the hands of his nemesis, and Fawkes grabbed the Hat and took off. Harry swung it above his head and yelled as he brought it crashing down on the diary.

The legendary Goblin-made blade didn’t even nick it.

Tom let out the breath he had been holding, before chuckling, “A valiant attempt, Harry. Pity it didn’t work.” Harry growled as he Requipped the blade away, adding it to his growing list of treasures. Fawkes landed back on his shoulder, the Hat in left talon this time. Tom clicked his teeth, “Bring that back. I would quite like it.” He ordered, and Harry gave him the bird in response. Tom sighed, “Very well then. I suppose I will have to torture you for it rather than simply killing you.”

Harry really wanted to know if he could kill the ‘ghost.’ Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it quickly. Already, Tom was more solid. His color deeper. Every second he wasted was more life drained from Ginny. Before he could say anything, Tom spoke again, “But before we get to the fun, to business. You’ve encountered me twice in the past, and both times, I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything.” He smiled, “The longer you talk, the longer you stay alive.”

“Who knows?” Harry shrugged, smirking slightly. “Even with a Horcrux, you’re still obsessed with immortality, hmm? You’re so terrified of death it’s laughable.”

Tom’s face contorted, “I fear nothing.”

“Sure, you don’t, Mr. Flight From Death.” Harry put on a face, “Honestly, French? What kind of Brit are you?”

“It’s Flight OF Death, you ignorant buffoon.” Tom hissed furiously.

“Ehhh, both work, and one makes you a coward so that’s the one I’ll go with.” Harry responded with a grin.

A wand (Ginny’s) snapped into Tom’s hand, “Crucio!” He roared in total fury.

Harry didn’t know what that spell did, and he most certainly did not want to find out. He dodged the jet of red light, before responding with a Byakurai. Tom’s eyes widened in shock, and he cast a shield. Harry’s bolt of lightning crashed into it, and Tom growled as the shield cracked and some residual electricity shocked his hand.

Harry smiled as he realized Tom looked a bit fuzzier than he had just a moment ago. “Seems you either can’t cast spells willy nilly or taking damage will delay your drain of Ginny’s life.”

Tom hissed, “And it appears you really aren’t all stories, Harry Potter. Very well then. It’ll be a shame to never know how you survived, but I won’t put off my resurrection any longer. $Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!$” He turned to the statue and hissed.

Harry saw the mouth opening up and knew exactly what was coming. He grabbed Ginny and vanished with Shunpo, appearing closer to the vault door than to the statue. Dropping her as a surprised and disorientated Fawkes squawked on his shoulder, he thrust his hand at the statue. “Sprinkled on the bones of the beast. Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring. Move and become the wind, stop, and become the calm! The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle! Hadō #63: Raikōhō!” He roared, and the massive bolt of lightning shot from his palm. It raced across the Chamber before a shocked Tom’s disbelieving gaze, and struck the statue’s mouth just as the basilisk was peeking out.

A MASSIVE explosion rocked the cavern, and up above, students and teachers alike began to scream as the castle shook. Luckily, centuries of magic were enough to keep the foundations stable, though inside the castle proper, some walls crumbled, suits of armor and chairs and blackboards fell over, and students curled up into little balls, some sobbing in fear.

Down in the Chamber, Tom roared, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU DAMN BOY?!” He had shielded himself as best he could, but the shockwave had blasted him onto his back. Parts of the Chamber had crumbled, with cave-ins happening closest to the statue. Several of the snake statues lining the cavern had crumbled, and the statue itself had been shattered. There was no sign of the basilisk. “$COME TO ME!$” Tom yelled again as he scrambled to his feet, now actually afraid that Harry’s monstrous spell had killed his pet.

“Did that do it?” Harry asked hopefully. Fawkes sang, even as he whapped Harry upside the head. And then the pile of debris bulged outwards, and the shrieking basilisk erupted. “Oh, fuck a duck you piece of shit.” And worse than the fact that it was alive was the fact it didn’t even look injured.

Tom let out a sigh of relief as the basilisk slithered towards him. It was over two hundred feet long minimum, and utterly massive. Harry was not a small boy, and the snake could probably swallow him. Standing. “$Good. You almost worried me, my friend. Now go and kill the one who dared try to harm you!$” He hissed, before laughing at Harry, “Parseltongue won’t save you now, Harry! It only obeys me!”

“Hey Fawkes.” Harry said, “Hope you have some tears ready, because I might need them if this doesn’t work.” The rock he had been levitating transformed into a rooster in front of him. Tom almost swallowed his tongue in shock. “Caw, you damn bird!” Harry yelled at it, and the rooster erupted.

Immediately, the basilisk seized, slowing to a stop with its coils writhing. And then it let out a furious cry itself. How a snake was making that kind of noise, Harry had no idea. Tom laughed once the rooster stopped crying and it looked like all that it had accomplished was pissing the basilisk off, “Ha! Of course! A millennia of growing has made it far too magically resistant for a rooster to kill it! My pet has zero weaknesses now, Harry! Better luck with the next attempt!”

“Okay, plan C. Get him, Fawkes!” Harry yelled as he pulled his blindfold over his eyes. Fawkes sang as he flew off his shoulder. Harry still wasn’t very good at this, but as soon as they learned that the monster was a basilisk, Harry knew that being able to see without sight might be useful. The blindfold blocked his vision perfectly, but his magical sense was perfectly intact.

He could feel everything. Perhaps too much. Fawkes was a massive beacon of fire and light and everything good in the world. The basilisk felt poisonous. Cold. Like death. Tom and the diary were both emotional black holes. The only thing he could feel from them was the hatred and bleakness emanating from them.

Fawkes was having a hell of a time. The basilisk was snapping at him, rearing back, and trying to eat the bird in a single bite every time the phoenix approached. Tom was yelling, “$LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU!$”

Harry needed its attention on Fawkes. “Hadō #41: Kongōbaku!” A red, shining ball of light appeared in his hand and fired at the basilisk. It erupted once it hit it in the head, and again, despite the basilisk rocking to the side, his spell did zero damage. But then again, Harry hadn’t been going for damage. “Now’s your chance!”

He yelled as Tom screamed, “NO!” Fawkes let out a victorious cry as he sank his talons into the basilisk’s eyes. The eyeballs popped, oozing first yellow and then a dark red as the basilisk reared back in agony. “CURSE YOU, HARRY POTTER!” The future Dark Lord roared in fury. “$YOU CAN STILL SMELL THE BOY! LEAVE THE BIRD AND KILL HIM! KILL HIM!$”

Harry took off the blindfold, smiling grimly as he saw the blood pouring from the creature’s eye sockets. Shunpo quickly had him atop the basilisk’s head, and the Sword of Gryffindor appeared in his hand with a quick Requip. “DIE!” He yelled as he plunged the sword down, aiming to pierce the snake’s spine. “OH, COME ON!” He leapt off the snake’s body as the sword failed to penetrate more than an inch. “Where’s fucking Excalibur when I need it?!”

He grunted as he landed. “Fuck.” He spat out as possibly the worst plan of his life erupted like a star being born. “Fucking moron!” He told himself, before yelling, “COME ON! I’M RIGHT HERE, UGLY!”

The basilisk turned to face him, before opening its mouth. Harry set his feet, bracing himself for the pain he knew would be coming. The snake lunged as Harry thrust the sword up at it. “GAH!” He yelled as he felt not one, not two, but three fangs pierce his arm, shoulder, and chest. “Guhhhh!” He fell back as the snake reared away, screaming. Blood burbled from his lips as Fawkes landed next to him. The sword was still stuck where it had been stabbed, and one fang had broken off, stuck in his right arm.

The snake let out its final cry as life left it. It crashed to the ground, unmoving. Tom stared at the fallen beast for a long while, in complete disbelief. “…” He didn’t say a word. He didn’t pay any attention to Harry. He had seen the bites and knew Harry was dead. Finally, he spoke. “It’s almost a pity for you to die here, Harry.” He said softly, still not taking his eyes off of the basilisk, “For this travesty you deserve to suffer far more.” He finally looked over, and saw Fawkes standing over his nemesis. “Wait. NO!” He yelled as he drew Ginny’s wand again. “GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU DAMN BIRD!” But he was too late. Fawkes had already cried several tears into the wound on Harry’s chest. Seven tears, in fact. His wounds were steaming closed, and all the venom he’d been pumped full of was being neutralized.

“Thanks buddy.” Harry grinned weakly as he stood.

“Phoenix tears.” Tom growled out, “How could I forget?” He smiled nastily, “Honesty though, I think I like this better. It didn’t quite feel right to not kill you with my own hands. You’ve been taught to duel, yes?”

“Hey Tom, before that, quick question.” Harry grinned as the Sword of Gryffindor appeared in his hand again, “What happens when Goblin Silver is exposed to something like basilisk venom?”

Tom blinked, “Gob-NO!” He yelled, “AVADA KEDAVRA!” He shot a green light at Harry, who vanished, “DAMN YOU! DON- GAHHHHHH!” He screamed as a bright white light erupted from his chest. He dropped Ginny’s wand as he screamed in agony, barely managing to turn his head.

Near the remains of Slytherin’s statue, Harry was on one knee, the sword plunged straight into the diary and stone below. How it hadn’t been lost in the explosion of his Raikōhō, Harry had no idea. “That’s three-for-three, Tom. Burn in hell.” He twisted the blade. Tom screamed so loudly that some of the rubble moved. And then he burst into a shower of sparks.

Ginny opened her eyes, breathing deeply as she scrambled up. “What?! Where?!” She saw the dead basilisk and her jaw dropped. Her eyes shrank to pinpricks, and she started to hyperventilate as Fawkes landed next to her, singing a calming song. Harry landed mid-step before her, Sword of Gryffindor resting lightly on his shoulder. She teared up, “…Harry.”

“Heya Ginny.” Harry smiled at her, “Maybe don’t write to a teenage Voldemort next time you find a random diary?”

She flinched, “He-He was You-Know-Who?!” She shrieked, “C-Can you just kill me now, so I don’t have to wait for mom to do it?”

Harry laughed brightly. “No can do, Gin.” He sent the sword away and patted her on the shoulder, “It wasn’t your fault.” He said gently, and she started to cry, “Older and wiser people than you were hoodwinked by that monster. You had no idea.” He sighed, before grumbling, “Honestly, why Professor Dumbledore hasn’t made sure every Dick, Tom, and Harry knows his real name, I have no idea.”

She let out another sob, before lunging for him and wrapping him in a hug. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She continued to sob as he hugged her back. “Merlin, I’ve w-waited so long to come to Hogwarts! Ever since Bill did! And now…”

“Like I said. It wasn’t your fault.” He said gently, “And you certainly won’t be expelled if that’s what you’re thinking.” He patted her on the back once more before letting go. “Now… how are we getting out of here?” He wondered. “Do you remember anything?”

“Uh… yeah, I do.” She cringed and held her head, “I remember everything. Merlin, I could have killed your friends and the victims. I did kill all those roosters… ”

“How did you get out?” He asked again.

“Uhh, I rode the basilisk.” She said softly. They both turned and looked at the dead beast.

“Welp, guess we’re stuck. Hopefully there’s at least a bed somewhere.” Harry teased her, and she reddened. Fawkes squawked and landed on her shoulder. He wiggled his tail feathers for Harry to grab on, and Harry did so, wondering what the bird was up to.

Fire erupted around them, swirling yet not burning, and then they were back in Myrtle’s bathroom. “Aww, you’re still alive.” She pouted, “I was going to offer to share my toilet.”

“Better luck next time, Myrtle.” Harry chuckled as he and Ginny followed Fawkes.

They were taken to Professor McGonagall’s office, and he raised his hand to knock, paused, Requipped the sword for a proper heroic entrance, and then pushed open the door. Conversation in the room died as everyone turned to look at the entrance. “Sup.” Harry grinned.

“GINNY!” A woman who could only be Ginny’s mother yelped, racing towards, and embracing her daughter. Her husband was only a step behind her.

“HARRY!” Twin missiles (Daphne and Parvati) crashed into him, and he had to dismiss the sword in a hurry before one of them cut themselves. Dumbledore was beaming at him, McGonagall looked like she was about to have a heart attack, and there were twelve red-robed wizards standing in the room, as well as someone he recognized as Susan’s aunt. Even Lockhart was there, crying as he was chained by the Aurors. They looked like they had been in the middle of a briefing with Daphne and Parvati relaying everything they knew.

Mrs. Weasley looked like she wanted to hug the stuffing out of him once she finally let go of Ginny, and her husband recognized it, holding her back. “You saved her!” Mrs. Weasley sobbed, “How? How did you do it?!”

“I think we’d all like to know that. Mr. Potter, was it?” Amelia Bones strode up to him, holding out a hand.

He shook it with a smile, before starting to speak. It took over twenty minutes to relay everything, starting from their realization regarding what the monster was to their efforts to discover the entrance once their friends had gotten petrified. Then his decision to go to the Chamber, not trusting that they would have enough time if they waited to mobilize.

Then he described what he had found in the Chamber itself, his conversation with Tom, leaving out his discovery of what the diary truly was. He did say how it ensnared her, draining her life force away to strengthen the memory of Tom Riddle. Who Tom Riddle truly was. By this point, Daphne and Parvati had his hands in vice grips from the sheer stress.

Ginny chimed in that she had found the diary with her book purchases from earlier in the year. She started writing in the diary, not knowing it was anything other than a normal diary at first, and then found herself increasingly unable to stop writing in it. That had gotten her some lambasting from her parents, though not overly much. Madam Bones made it clear that Ginny was to be considered a victim of a dark magic artifact, and she was not to blame for anything. Especially since in a few short weeks, all the victims of petrification would be revived.

Harry took over again, describing his fight against the basilisk, his realization that nothing he had was going to kill it, and then his heroic final act. Daphne, Parvati, and Ginny let out sobs, and Mrs. Weasley again looked close to deciding to smother him in affection. He told them how Fawkes had cried for him while Tom was distracted, and how he had immediately attacked the diary once he was back on his feet, ending the nightmare for good.

After that, Professor Dumbledore suggested that her parents take her to the Hospital Wing. Madam Bones came up to him, “I’ll see you with an Order of Merlin for this, Mr. Potter. You saved the entire school, and prevented that evil from rising again.” She said, before shaking his hand once more and leaving with her Aurors and Lockhart.

With that, Dumbledore requested that everyone except for Harry to leave, “I think you told the truth, Harry… but not the whole truth.” He said softly once they had been left alone. “What did you not say?”

Harry took the diary out of his pocket, having kept it hidden. He slapped it on the table, “It’s a fucking Horcrux.”

Dumbledore curdled, “How do you know that word?” He asked, raising his voice in his shock.

“Structural Grasping.” Harry said, looking green, “Honestly wish I didn’t…”

Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I had hoped…” He shook his head, “Tom, you fool boy. What have you done to yourself?”

“He had to have made more than one, right?” Harry asked, “Otherwise Quirrellmort wouldn’t have been a thing last year.”

“You are quite correct.” He put his glasses back on, “You have no idea how useful this discovery is, Harry, as distasteful as it is. Now we know how he did it. And now we know what we must destroy to end him for good.”

Harry nodded, but couldn’t say anything more as Lucius Malfoy barged in, followed closely by Dobby, who was trying to shine his shoes. Lucius looked disheveled, and clearly had left his home in a hurry.

Harry watched as the two traded ‘pleasantries,’ smirking slightly as Dumbledore verbally handed the arrogant bastard his own ass. Once that was done and over with, he chimed in, accusing Lucius of slipping Ginny the diary himself. He hadn’t seen the fight, but knew that was the only time Lucius could have slipped it to her. And he knew it was Lucius, because of Dobby. Not that anyone could prove it, of course, but they all knew.

Lucius left in a towering fury, and Harry, not yet having had enough action that night, followed and slipped him back the diary. With a sock inside. The end result was Dobby free from his abusive master, and Harry got the wonderful core memory of watching Dobby blast his former abuser on his ass.

“Mark my words, Potter!” Lucius pointed at him in fury, “One day you’ll meet the same sticky end as your parents.”

And then Harry appeared in front of him, so close that their noses were almost touching. The sword was in his hand, the point on the ground. Lucius leapt away in shock, “Your master couldn’t kill me. And you think you’re the man for the job? You?” Harry laughed, spinning the sword around with his fingers. “Go ahead and try, if you’d like a spot right next to the basilisk.” Harry laughed as the unnerved man swiftly walked away.

He said his goodbye to Dobby, and then went to join the girls. Weeks later, their friends were finally revived. The group of friends celebrated into the night once they were finally allowed out of the Hospital Wing, and Harry laughed long and loud the next morning when he saw a shirtless Neville, Hannah, and Hermione cuddling on the couch. Neville was so red Harry was pretty sure he could have fried an egg on his face.

The weeks dragged on and many in the castle came to apologize to Harry when his heroics came to light. Harry felt nothing but satisfaction when he told Ernie to go fuck himself and to pass exams on his own. He didn’t welcome the ones who left back into the club either, though he did open it up to the first years.

Their electives for next year were researched and chosen after Easter, and with the castle safe once more, Quidditch picked up again. As promised, the Gryffs won the Cup again, with Slytherin in last place. He had already begun getting inundated by requests for Raijins, and spent every chance he had making more in preparation to sell them that summer.

Before they knew it, exams came and went, and the year was over. Once more, Neville went home with his and Hermione’s wands, though the brunette had a blush this time as her boyfriend took it.

And with that, his second year at Hogwarts was over. He really wondered how year three was going to top the basilisk.

-]|[-

IT’Ll bE soME QuiCK BAcKstoRy. JuSt a CoUPLE ThouSaND woRdS. iN AnD oUT.

Yeah, fucking… so much for that. Hope you guys enjoyed! I’m still working on this and am halfway through three. Let’s see how long the muse decides to cooperate. Kinda running out of decent HP fics to read… (And the muse is stupid and keeps coming up with different premises trying to distract me :facepalm:)