The final week of summer arrived, and Harry decided it was time to venture out as himself—Harry Potter. Not Evan Birch. Luna had been eager to accompany him, and after ensuring their plans were set, they arranged to visit Diagon Alley to gather the rest of his school supplies.
The morning was bright and bustling when they arrived via the Leaky Cauldron. The cobbled streets of Diagon Alley were alive with energy, witches and wizards darting between shops as they prepared for the new school term. Harry adjusted his muggle clothes and scanned the crowd, conscious of the occasional glances that lingered on his scar. It wasn't the first time he'd been recognised, but it never stopped feeling strange.
"Harry," Luna said, her voice lilting with curiosity, "do you think Nargles like bookstores? They seem like the kind of places they'd enjoy."
Harry chuckled. "If they do, Flourish and Blotts would be their paradise. Let's grab some books first."
They navigated the throng of shoppers, eventually making their way to the bookshop. Inside, the chaos was palpable. Stacks of books towered precariously on every available surface, and the crowd pressed tightly together near a makeshift stage. A large banner overhead proclaimed:
MEET GILDEROY LOCKHART: CELEBRITY AUTHOR AND WIZARDING ICON!
Harry groaned inwardly as he caught sight of the man himself, his gleaming blond hair and dazzling smile visible even from across the room. Lockhart was surrounded by fans, eagerly signing books and posing for photographs.
"Let's stay far away from that," Harry muttered, steering Luna toward the less crowded sections of the shop.
Luna tilted her head. "He's very shiny. Do you think he polishes his teeth with dragon balm?"
Harry stifled a laugh as they began collecting their required books. But their progress was interrupted when a familiar, drawling voice cut through the din.
"Potter."
Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and a sneer plastered on his face. He looked more self-assured than usual, his posture stiff and haughty. Behind him loomed Lucius Malfoy, his cold grey eyes appraising Harry with a calculating intensity.
"Malfoy," Harry said evenly, his gaze flicking briefly to Lucius. "Nice to see you."
Draco's sneer deepened. "Don't pretend you're anything special, Potter. Just because you have a scar doesn't mean you're worth all this attention."
Harry arched an eyebrow, wondering what happened to the cordial boy from school.
Before he could retort, Lucius stepped forward. His polished cane tapped against the floor as he approached, his presence commanding immediate silence. He stopped just short of Harry, his expression unreadable.
"Harry Potter," Lucius said, his voice smooth and deliberate. "The famous boy who lived."
Harry stood his ground, though his heart raced as Lucius's gaze bore into him. When Lucius reached out with the tip of his cane to lift Harry's fringe, exposing his scar, Harry's breath caught. The elder Malfoy pulled him slightly closer, his eyes narrowing as if searching for something.
"Such a curious scar," Lucius murmured, his tone almost absent. But his gaze lingered on Harry's face, a flicker of recognition flashing in his eyes. "You seem… familiar."
Harry's stomach twisted. Did Lucius remember him from the Pritchards' shop? He forced himself to remain calm, praying that the man wouldn't connect the dots.
"I doubt we've met before," Harry said carefully, stepping back as Lucius released him. "I've spent most of my life outside the wizarding world."
Lucius's lips curled into a faint smile, though his eyes remained sharp. "Perhaps."
The tension was broken by the arrival of the Weasley family, their boisterous presence impossible to ignore. Ron's voice rose above the crowd as he spotted Harry.
"Oi, Harry! There you are!"
Harry sighed, his patience already wearing thin. Ron pushed his way through the crowd, followed closely by Arthur, Molly, and Ginny. The youngest Weasley clutched her cauldron excitedly, her wide eyes darting between Harry and Luna, a frown settling on her face.
Draco's sneer returned as he caught sight of Ron. "Weasley," he drawled. "Still shopping second-hand, I see."
Ron's face flushed with anger. "Shut it, Malfoy."
"Or what?" Draco taunted. "You'll challenge me to a duel with your patched-up wand?"
Before Harry could intervene, Arthur stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Lucius. "Leave it, boys," he said, though his tone was tense. "We're here for school supplies, not arguments."
Lucius's smile turned icy. "Ah, Arthur Weasley. Still mingling with the Muggles, I see. How… quaint."
The exchange escalated quickly. Harsh words were thrown, and within moments, Arthur and Lucius were grappling with each other, knocking over a stack of books in the process. Harry took the opportunity to nudge Luna toward the door.
"Let's get out of here," he muttered.
But their escape was hindered by Molly Weasley, who bustled over with a determined look on her face. "Harry, dear," she said, her tone overly familiar. "You shouldn't have to deal with all this nonsense. Why don't you give me your vault key, and I'll finish getting your supplies for you?"
Harry stared at her, incredulous. "No, thank you. I can manage."
Molly's smile tightened. "Oh, nonsense. It's no trouble at all. You and Ron can go explore the alley. Luna, why don't you stay with Ginny."
Harry's irritation flared. "I said no. I don't know you. Ron and I aren't friends."
Molly's expression darkened, but before she could press the issue, the commotion between Arthur and Lucius drew her attention. Lucius had picked up Ginny's cauldron and was returning her books, his movements deliberate.
"There," Lucius said smoothly, his voice dripping with condescension. "All packed."
Ginny looked at the cauldron uncertainly, but before she could say anything, Molly dragged her toward the door, chastising Arthur for causing a scene. Harry and Luna took the opportunity to slip away, finally escaping the chaotic shop.
Once outside, Harry let out a long breath, his frustration evident. "That was a disaster."
Luna tilted her head thoughtfully. "I thought it was rather eventful. Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to enjoy himself, at least."
Harry couldn't help but laugh, the tension easing slightly. "Let's just finish our shopping and get out of here."
As they made their way down the bustling street, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of Lucius's eyes on him, the man's searching gaze lingering in his memory. The encounter had left him uneasy, but for now, he focused on Luna's chatter and the comfort of knowing that, at least for today, he wasn't alone.
~
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the cove in hues of orange and purple as Harry prepared for the evening. Tomorrow, they would be boarding the Hogwarts Express, and there were still a few things left to take care of. Harry glanced over at Luna, who was sitting cross-legged on the sand, her eyes distant as she absentmindedly traced patterns in the grains. Nox lay beside her, snuggled up with her tail curled around her body, golden eyes half-lidded with contentment.
"Luna," Harry said gently, drawing her attention. "We should head to the Rookery and get the rest of your things. You'll want everything packed before the morning."
Luna nodded, her usual dreamy expression replaced by something more subdued. "Yes, of course. We don't want to forget anything important."
Tilly appeared with a soft pop, her hands clasped in front of her. "Master Harry, Tilly can take you and Miss Luna to the Rookery whenever you're ready."
Harry reached out to ruffle Nox's scales lightly. "We won't be gone long," he told her. "Keep the nest safe for us."Nox chirped in response, her voice warm and sleepy. "I will, Mother."
With Tilly's help, they apparated to the Rookery, the Lovegoods' eccentric home standing tall and quirky against the twilight sky. The familiar mismatched structure always carried an air of magic and whimsy, but tonight it felt hollow. Luna led the way inside, her steps unusually quiet as they entered the living room.
"I got a letter from Daddy today," Luna said softly, handing the parchment to Harry.
He unfolded it, scanning the words quickly. Xeno's handwriting was hurried, and the message was painfully brief.
Dearest Luna,
I'm sorry, my little Moon. I won't be back in time to see you off to Hogwarts, but I promise to keep searching for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. I know it's out there, and I'll find it for you.
Stay curious and keep dreaming.
Love, Daddy
Harry's hands tightened around the parchment, his jaw clenching. "He's been gone for over a month, and this is all he has to say?"
Luna shrugged, though her shoulders drooped slightly. "Daddy's always been very dedicated to his work. He believes the Snorkack will bring joy to the world."
"And what about you?" Harry asked, his frustration spilling over. "He's been neglecting you since… since Pandora died. I've already told him once that leaving you like this isn't right."
Luna's lips trembled slightly, but she held her composure. "It's just how he is. I've always known he loved her very much."
Harry sighed, setting the letter down on the table. "He should be here for you, Luna. You shouldn't have to go through this alone."
Luna gave him a small, grateful smile. "I'm not alone, Harry. I have you."
Her words softened the sharp edges of Harry's anger, and he nodded. "Come on. Let's make sure you have everything you need."
They moved through the house together, Luna gathering her belongings while Harry double-checked that nothing was forgotten. He made sure her favourite pyjamas were folded neatly in her trunk, along with her hairbrush and the well-worn journals that had belonged to her mother, Pandora. Luna clutched the journals to her chest for a moment before placing them carefully inside.
"These are important," she said quietly. "They're full of Mum's dreams and discoveries."
Harry nodded. "Then they'll stay safe with you."
They added her school supplies, a few of her favourite books, and the small collection of odd trinkets she'd insisted on bringing. Harry even found a spot for a jar of pickled Dirigible Plums, which Luna declared essential.
"Luna," Harry said gently, sitting down beside her. "Are you all right?"
She looked at him, her gaze soft but tinged with sadness. "It's just… I miss her. Mummy, I mean. She always made going back to Hogwarts feel special. She'd stay up with me the night before, talking about all the adventures I'd have."
Harry reached out, taking her hand in his. "You'll always have those memories. And you'll make new ones, too. I'll make sure of it."
Luna's smile returned, and she squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Harry."
When they returned to the cove, the night had grown darker, the stars twinkling brightly above. Nox greeted them with a happy chirp, bounding over to nuzzle against Harry before curling protectively around them both.
The three of them sat together by the fire pit, the flames casting warm light across their faces. Harry and Luna shared stories of his first year at Hogwarts, laughing at the oddities and surprises encountered. Nox listened intently, occasionally chirping in with her own questions.
As the night wore on, the conversation turned quieter, the three of them enjoying the peacefulness of their last evening together before the start of the school year. Luna rested her head on Harry's shoulder, her eyes closing as she murmured, "Thank you for being here, Harry."
~
The morning air was crisp as Harry stood on the front step of Number Four, Privet Drive, his trunk and Hedwig's cage beside him. He could feel the eyes of the Dursleys burning into his back as he made a show of waving cheerfully to Mrs. Figg, who lingered by her garden fence.
"Bye, Mrs. Figg!" Harry called, his voice overly loud and cheerful. "Thanks for all the lovely chats this summer!"
Mrs. Figg squinted at him, her expression vaguely puzzled, but she gave a small wave back. Harry turned, catching Petunia's sour face through the slightly parted curtains. Vernon stood behind her, his moustache bristling as he folded his arms across his barrel-like chest.
"Finally leaving, are you?" Vernon grunted.
"Not a moment too soon," Petunia snapped, stepping onto the porch. "Good riddance."
Harry raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. "You'll miss me, Aunt Petunia. Without me here, who will be your constant reminder of the wizarding world you're so desperately trying to pretend doesn't exist?"
Petunia's lips thinned into a white line, and Vernon's face turned an alarming shade of purple. "Watch your tongue, boy," Vernon growled. "You're lucky we've put up with you for this long."
"Oh, yes," Harry said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "How could I ever repay you for the years of kindness and love?"
With a dramatic flourish, he picked up his trunk and Hedwig's cage, giving them one last mocking bow. "Enjoy your blissfully normal lives. I'll send a postcard from Hogwarts… or not."
He turned on his heel, leaving the Dursleys fuming behind him as he walked briskly down the street. Once he was out of sight, Harry ducked into a small alley and called softly, "Tilly."
The house-elf appeared with a quiet pop, her eyes bright and eager. "Master Harry, are you ready?"
"Almost," Harry said. "First, can you take me to the woods. I need to say goodbye to the Old One and Flick."
The woods near Little Whinging were quiet, the morning sunlight filtering softly through the leaves. The Old One lay coiled on her favourite rock, her golden eyes gleaming as Harry approached. Flick slithered forward from his perch on a nearby branch, hissing excitedly.
"Hatchling!" Flick said, wrapping himself around his arm.
"Flick," Harry replied, stroking his smooth scales. He turned to the Old One, bowing his head respectfully. "I'm leaving for Hogwarts today. I wanted to say goodbye."
The Old One regarded him with her usual calm. "You are growing, Little Speaker. Each time you return, you carry more strength… and more burden."
Harry hesitated before asking, "Are you sure you won't come to the cove? It's safe there. Nox would love to meet you."
The Old One's tail flicked slightly, a soft hiss escaping her. "This is our nest, Little Speaker. Our home. Just as you have yours now."
Flick nodded, nuzzling against Harry's hand. "We belong here. But you must keep learning your gifts. The world is changing, and you will need them."
Harry sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he accepted their decision. "I will. And I'll visit when I can."
The Old One inclined her head. "Go, Little Speaker. The stars watch over you."
Harry returned to the cove one last time before leaving for King's Cross. Nox bounded across the sand to greet him, her golden eyes bright but tinged with sadness.
"You're leaving," she said softly, curling around him.
Harry knelt down, stroking her glossy black scales. "Just for a while, Nox. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Nox nuzzled against him, her warmth enveloping him like a protective shield. "You promise?"
"I promise," Harry said. He turned to Tilly, who stood patiently nearby. "Take care of her, Tilly. Make sure she knows she's not alone."
Tilly nodded solemnly. "Tilly will look after Nox. Don't worry, Master Harry."
With a final hug, Harry stood, his heart heavy as Tilly took his hand. A moment later, they were standing in a secluded part of King's Cross station, hidden from the bustling crowds.
Luna appeared moments later, her trunk in tow and her ever-present serenity lighting up her face. "Ready for another adventure?" she asked, her voice soft and whimsical.
"Ready," Harry replied, managing a small smile.
They made their way toward Platform 9¾, navigating the station's chaos with practiced ease. As they approached the barrier, they spotted a familiar mop of red hair. Ron Weasley stood by the wall, looking increasingly agitated as he glanced around.
"Harry!" Ron called, his face lighting up as he spotted them. "Over here!"
Harry exchanged a wary glance with Luna before walking over. "What's going on, Ron?"
Ron gestured toward the barrier, his voice low and panicked. "The wall's sealed! I tried going through, but it bounced me back!"
"What do you mean, sealed?" Harry asked, frowning.
Ron pointed to the solid brick wall. "Look, I'll show you."
He stepped forward and leaned against the wall, only to be shoved backward as if an invisible barrier had repelled him. "See? We can't get through!"
Harry's unease grew. "That's… strange."
"We'll have to find another way to Hogwarts," Ron said, his voice rising with desperation. "We can take Dad's car!"
Harry blinked. "What car? The flying one?"
Ron's face brightened. "We'll just drive to Hogwarts!"
"That sounds incredibly reckless," Luna said thoughtfully, her head tilted. "And illegal."
"It's brilliant!" Ron insisted. "Come on, Harry, let's go!"
Harry shook his head, his annoyance rising. "No, Ron. I'm not getting into a flying car with you."
Ron's face reddened. "What, are you scared? Come on, Harry. Real Gryffindors aren't afraid of a little risk."
Harry's patience snapped. "Being reckless doesn't make you brave, Ron. It makes you stupid. And I am not a Gryffindor."
Ron glared at him, his fists clenching. "Fine! Be a coward, then. I'll get to Hogwarts without you!"
With that, he stormed off, disappearing into the crowd. Harry exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Unbelievable."
Luna placed a comforting hand on his arm. "There's always another way."
Harry looked at her, his brow furrowed. "Do you have an idea?"
Luna nodded serenely. "The Knight Bus. It's very reliable, if a bit bumpy."
Leaving King's Cross, they made their way down the street where it was quieter and Luna raised her wand. The Knight Bus arrived with a deafening bang, its triple-decker frame looming impossibly large as it screeched to a halt before them. Harry and Luna climbed aboard, greeted by the cheerful chaos within. They found seats near the back, clutching their belongings tightly as the bus took off with a lurch.
The journey was as jarring as Luna had promised, but they arrived in Hogsmeade hours before the train. As they stepped off the bus and into the quiet village, Harry felt a small sense of triumph. They'd made it, despite everything.
"Well," Luna said, gazing at the distant silhouette of Hogwarts. "I think this term is going to be quite interesting."
Harry smiled faintly, his earlier frustration fading. "Yeah. It always is."
The village was quiet, with only a few early risers milling about. Hogwarts loomed in the distance, its towers silhouetted against the pale sky. Harry stretched his arms, shaking off the stiffness from the bumpy ride, while Luna adjusted her satchel, her dreamy expression tinged with curiosity.
"We have most of the day," Harry said, glancing at Luna. "The train won't arrive until this evening. Want to explore?"
Luna's face lit up, her usual serene smile widening. "Oh, yes. There's so much to see here. I've only read about Hogsmeade in books."
Harry chuckled, picking up their belongings and gesturing toward the village. "Let's find somewhere to leave our things first."
After arranging for their trunks and Hedwig's cage to be kept at a small storage service near the station, Harry and Luna set off down the main street. The cobblestones beneath their feet gleamed faintly with dew, and the quiet buzz of activity gave the village a cosy charm.
Their first stop was Honeydukes. The moment they stepped inside, the smell of sugar and chocolate hit them like a warm embrace. Shelves lined with colourful jars of sweets stretched from floor to ceiling, and the counters were piled high with fudge, toffees, and an assortment of pastries. The shop was already bustling with customers, including a group of young witches giggling over a display of sugar quills.
"This place is magical," Luna said, her eyes wide as she wandered toward a display of sparkling sugar wands.
"Literally," Harry replied with a grin, grabbing a basket. He began filling it with a variety of sweets: Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Peppermint Toads, and an assortment of fudge.
Luna picked up a packet of fizzing whizzbees, inspecting it thoughtfully. "Do you think they really make you float?"
"Only one way to find out," Harry said, adding it to the basket. "We'll need enough to last the year."
When they reached the counter, Harry insisted on paying for everything, ignoring Luna's protests. "Consider it a treat," he said. "Besides, I owe you for putting up with all my craziness."
Luna tilted her head, her smile softening. "You don't owe me anything, Harry. But thank you."
The shopkeeper, a cheerful witch with rosy cheeks, rang up their order with a knowing smile. "Stocking up for Hogwarts, are you? You've got good taste. The fizzing whizzbees are my favourite."
Their next stop was a small stationery shop, where Harry stocked up on parchment, quills, and ink. Luna found a set of quills with shimmering, colour-changing feathers, and Harry added them to his purchase without a second thought.
"You'll need them for all your brilliant essays," he said, earning a quiet laugh from Luna.
She picked up a bottle of violet ink, holding it up to the light. "I've always thought purple makes words feel more alive," she said, placing it on the counter. Harry couldn't help but snort, imagining Snapes face when reading her essays.
As they strolled further down the street, a quaint second-hand bookshop caught their eye. The shop was small and cluttered, with stacks of books spilling off shelves and onto the floor. The air smelled of parchment and old leather, and a small, enchanted feather duster flitted about, dusting the tops of shelves.
Harry thumbed through a collection of magical theory texts, while Luna discovered an old tome on magical creatures, its cover adorned with a faded illustration of a Mooncalf.
"This one has stories about creatures that haven't been seen in centuries," Luna said, her voice hushed with awe.
Harry glanced at the book and smiled. "Then we'll get it."
The shopkeeper, an elderly witch with glasses perched on the end of her nose, rang up their purchases with a knowing smile. "Books like these are treasures," she said. "You two have good taste."
Luna beamed at the compliment, hugging the book to her chest as they left the shop. "It's a good day for discoveries," she said softly.
By late morning, they found themselves outside the Three Broomsticks. The warm, inviting glow from the windows was impossible to resist, and they stepped inside to find a cosy, bustling pub. The air was filled with the clatter of mugs and the low hum of conversation, and the scent of butterbeer mingled with the faint aroma of roasted nuts.
Madame Rosmerta greeted them with a curious look as they approached the counter. "You're a bit young to be wandering around Hogsmeade on your own, aren't you?"
Harry hesitated, but Luna answered with her usual candidness. "We arrived early. The barrier at Platform 9¾ wouldn't let us through."
Rosmerta's brows knitted together. "The barrier? Sealed? That's odd. I've never heard of anything like that happening before."
Harry shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. "We took the Knight Bus to get here. Figured it was better than missing the train altogether."
Rosmerta nodded slowly, though her concern didn't fade. "Well, you're safe now. What can I get you?"
They ordered butterbeers and settled into a corner table, the warmth of the drinks soothing after the cool morning air. The pub's chatter provided a comforting background hum as Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and began drafting a letter to Professor Flitwick, explaining the situation and requesting guidance.
Professor Flitwick,
I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to inform you of a strange incident this morning. Luna Lovegood and I were unable to pass through the barrier at Platform 9¾, so we took the Knight Bus to Hogsmeade instead. I'll make sure Luna joins the first years when the train arrives at the station this evening.
Please let me know if there's anything else we should do.
Sincerely,
Harry Potter
After they sent the letter they waited in the pub for another hour, eating their packed lunches.
Not long after, the door to the pub opened and Harry looked up to see Professor Flitwick entering. The diminutive Charms professor spotted them immediately, his expression a mix of relief and concern as he hurried over.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Lovegood," Flitwick said, his voice tinged with worry. "I received your letter. Are you both all right?"
"We're fine, Professor," Harry replied. "Just a bit confused about what happened."
Flitwick nodded, his brows furrowing. "The barrier sealing is highly unusual. I'll need to report this to the Headmaster. But you were wise to come straight to Hogsmeade."
Luna sipped her butterbeer, her gaze thoughtful. "Do you think someone might have sealed it on purpose?"
Flitwick's eyes widened slightly. "It's a possibility, though I can't say for certain. The magic involved would have to be quite powerful."
Harry exchanged a glance with Luna, unease settling in his chest. "What should we do now, Professor?"
Flitwick smiled reassuringly. "For now, enjoy your day in Hogsmeade. I'll make sure everything is prepared for your arrival at Hogwarts. Miss Lovegood, I'll see to it that you're properly sorted with the first years."
"Thank you, Professor," Luna said, her voice serene.
"Oh professor, you should know that Ron Weasley also got stuck behind the barrier and he decided to take his father's flying car instead."
Flitwick frowned, "that is concerning and highly dangerous. I will have to report this immediately!"
As Flitwick left to send his report, Harry leaned back in his chair, the weight of the morning's events still lingering. "Well," he said, forcing a smile, "we've got some time to kill."
Luna nodded, her smile returning. "Let's see what other treasures we can find."
~
The Great Hall was alive with the golden glow of floating candles, the enchanted ceiling reflecting the deep indigo sky outside. The long tables were laden with polished goblets and empty plates waiting for the feast to begin. The Sorting Hat had just begun its song when Harry slipped into his usual spot at the Ravenclaw table, greeting his friends with easy familiarity.
He waved over at Neville, who grinned and gave a small wave back from the Gryffindor table. Further down, Blaise and Theo nodded in acknowledgment from the Slytherin table. Harry turned back to his own housemates who were already deep in conversation about the upcoming term.
"Harry! Finally, you show up," Michael said with a smirk. "We were starting to think you got lost on the way."
Harry chuckled, sliding into his seat. "Not quite. Just had an... interesting summer." He glanced at the sorting line as the new first years began their nervous shuffle toward the front, but then turned back to his dormmates. "Thanks for the birthday wishes, by the way. Sorry I didn't reply sooner."
Terry arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, we figured something was up. Hedwig never delivers late."
Harry sighed. "A house-elf was stealing my mail."
Anthony nearly dropped his goblet. "A what?"
"A house-elf," Harry repeated. "Apparently, he thought he was protecting me. Took me most of the summer to figure it out."
Michael frowned. "That's—okay, that's a bit worrying. Whose house-elf was it?"
Harry hesitated before shaking his head. "Didn't say. And I don't think I was supposed to know he was even there."
A ripple of debate erupted between the Ravenclaws, each theorising wildly. Anthony suspected Dumbledore had a hand in it, Terry mused about whether an old family connection was involved, and Michael suggested someone at the Ministry might be keeping an eye on him. Harry stayed silent on Dobby's warning, deciding for now that it was best kept to himself.
Just as Terry was outlining a theory about unsanctioned magical surveillance, the Sorting Hat called out a name Harry had been waiting for.
"Lovegood, Luna!"
Harry sat up straighter, watching as Luna drifted dreamily toward the stool. The Hat was placed over her head, and for a moment, there was silence. Then—
"RAVENCLAW!"
Harry broke into loud applause, clapping wildly as Luna hopped off the stool and made her way toward the Ravenclaw table. She spotted him immediately, her usual serene expression brightening with delight.
"Harry!" she greeted as she reached him.
"Luna! Brilliant! I was hoping you'd end up here," Harry said, beaming. He glanced at Michael. "Mind making some space?"
Michael scooted over without hesitation, curiosity flickering across his face as Luna took the empty seat beside Harry.
Harry gestured around the table. "This is Michael, Terry, Anthony, and Stephen. Guys, this is Luna."
Luna gave them all a dreamy smile. "Hello, I like your auras."
Michael blinked. "Uh, thanks?"
Anthony smirked. "Wait, hold on—Luna? As in the Luna you write to all the time?"
Harry shrugged. "Yeah. We met in Diagon Alley before first year." It was the lie they had agreed upon—one that was simple and easy to remember.
Stephen nodded in understanding. "Makes sense. You always seem to be scribbling letters."
Their introductions were interrupted by a piercing shriek.
"NO! I WANT TO BE IN RAVENCLAW!"
Heads turned toward the Gryffindor table, where Ginny Weasley was standing with her fists clenched at her sides, glaring furiously at the Sorting Hat. McGonagall, who had just removed the Hat from her head, was looking at her with a mixture of exasperation and mild alarm.
"I BELONG IN RAVENCLAW!" Ginny insisted. "I'M SMART TOO!"
The Gryffindor table was mostly silent, a few first years looking at her in confusion, while some of the older students exchanged glances. Fred and George, at least, were trying to suppress their laughter.
"Miss Weasley, the Hat has made its decision," McGonagall said firmly. "You will sit with your house."
Ginny looked ready to argue further, but a warning look from the professor made her huff and stomp her way to the Gryffindor table, muttering under her breath.
Luna watched her go, tilting her head. "She has an interesting energy," she commented.
"Yeah, that's one way to put it," Michael murmured.
The feast continued, and the plates filled with steaming food, laughter and conversation filling the hall. The Ravenclaw table settled into their usual habits, discussing classes, schedules, and potential Quidditch try-outs.
Just as Harry was reaching for a treacle tart, a massive crash sounded from outside the castle, followed by an unmistakable BANG that shook the windows. The entire Great Hall fell into hushed confusion.
"What in Merlin's name—" Terry started, but before he could finish, the doors burst open, and Professor McGonagall strode in, her face a picture of severe disappointment.
She cleared her throat, and the room silenced completely before she announced, "It appears Mr. Ronald Weasley has made quite the entrance by crashing his father's enchanted Ford Anglia into the Whomping Willow."
There was a stunned beat of silence before a roar of laughter erupted from the Slytherin table, quickly followed by murmurs and whispers from every corner of the Hall.
Harry sighed, already feeling a headache forming. "Of course, it was Ron."
Luna took a sip of her pumpkin juice, entirely unfazed. "I hope the tree is all right."
Michael snorted into his goblet, while Terry and Anthony exchanged looks of bemusement. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and Harry had a sinking feeling it was just the beginning of a long and eventful year.
~
The first month at Hogwarts passed in a blur, filled with classes, study sessions, and the occasional bout of chaos that seemed inevitable at the castle. Harry quickly noticed something unusual—this year, Ravenclaw shared more classes with Gryffindor than they had last year. It wasn't just the occasional joint lesson; they were paired together for nearly every subject. In the past, Ravenclaw had been scheduled with Hufflepuff the majority of the time, but that had shifted significantly.
"It's odd, isn't it?" Terry Boot remarked over breakfast one morning. "We used to be with the Hufflepuffs for almost three-quarters of our classes. Now it's mostly Gryffindor."
Michael Corner shrugged. "Maybe the staff changed things up."
Harry, however, wasn't convinced this was random.
As the weeks progressed, Harry and Luna found themselves retreating to the hidden sanctuary on the fourth floor. With careful effort, he had warded the area against intruders, making it the perfect place for secret meetings.
One evening, under the dim glow of enchanted lanterns, Luna settled into an oversized armchair while Harry leaned against a desk, arms crossed.
"Dumbledore's keeping too many secrets," Harry muttered. "Last year, he left me in the dark about nearly everything. And now, this change in class schedules? I heard Sprout complaining to Hooch that they had to rewrite all the schedules because of him."
Luna twirled a strand of her hair. "He has a habit of moving people around like pieces on a chessboard." Her gaze drifted to the far wall, where Harry had pinned various notes and theories regarding the Hallows. "Have you thought more about Peverell Keep?"
Harry nodded, glancing at a parchment covered in neat script—the poem that had first pointed him toward the Keep's location. "Maybe it's all connected," he said, tracing a finger over a particular line. "The Hallows, the Peverells, Voldemort and Dumbledore. We already know he stole my family's cloak from my vault. That means he's been keeping things from me since I was a baby. "
Luna tilted her head. "Then there must be a reason he never wanted you to find out about your family's legacy. Do you think he knew the cloak was the real one or about the keep?"
"Would he have given it back if he did? He doesn't know I'm Lord Peverell, Grimbok told me that." Harry exhaled. "The poem said, 'Follow the path of the ancient yew. Where the gate opens, the bridge of the tree will guide you to the house of Death.' Wherever it is, it's hidden magically, even to me."
"It would make sense for something that important to be well protected," Luna agreed. "But if it's hidden past mortal's reach, maybe it's not just a simple location. Maybe it requires a specific kind of knowledge or magic."
Harry considered that. "We should look into ancient magical fortresses and things relating to ancient yews. If we can find a pattern in how they were hidden, we might be able to figure out where Peverell Keep is."
Luna smiled. "That sounds like an excellent research project. Maybe the library has books on magical strongholds."
Harry nodded. "We'll start there. And if we don't find anything useful, I'll ask Grimbok to check my family's records. There must be something I inherited that could help."
They spent the rest of the evening mapping out a plan, exchanging theories and comparing notes.
Harry and Luna spent the afternoon in the library, pouring over old tomes and parchment-covered books, searching for anything that might give them more clues about Peverell Keep. The scent of old paper filled the air, and the warm glow of candlelight flickered over the towering bookshelves.
Luna was flipping through a particularly dense book on magical strongholds when a sharp voice interrupted them.
"Oh, honestly, Harry," Hermione Granger said as she approached their table, her arms full of books. "You're wasting your time listening to her ramblings. There's no actual proof of any of her 'creatures.' It's all just nonsense."
Luna tilted her head, unfazed by the comment. "Nargles have been call myths, but that doesn't mean they aren't real."
Hermione scoffed, setting down her books with an air of superiority. "That's exactly my point. You talk about things as if they're fact when they're just fairy tales. If you want to do real research, Harry, you should be focusing on more credible sources."
Harry's jaw tightened. "Back off, Hermione. We're researching what we think is important. You don't have to believe in it, but you also don't have to insult Luna."
Hermione looked taken aback but huffed, gathering her books. "Fine, suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you when you've wasted hours chasing shadows."
With that, she walked off, leaving an awkward silence between them.
"That was unnecessarily rude," Harry muttered, shaking his head. "You all right, Luna?"
Luna nodded, still staring in the direction Hermione had gone. "She's just afraid of what she doesn't understand. That's a very limiting way to live."
Before Harry could respond, they nearly collided with Blaise and Theo, who had been making their way through the library.
"Potter," Blaise greeted with his usual smirk. "Should have expected to find you here, buried in books."
Harry smirked. "We all have our surprises. You two just wandering, or are you up to something?"
"Bit of both," Theo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Mind if we join you?"
Harry considered before nodding. "Come on. Neville's waiting at the back table in the Herbology section."
They wove their way through the aisles, finally reaching the secluded back table where Neville was surrounded by thick tomes on magical plants. He looked up and smiled. "Harry! I saved some space."
"Thanks, Neville. Mind if we add a few more people?" Harry asked, gesturing to Blaise and Theo.
Neville nodded. "Sure. The more the merrier."
They settled in, books spread out before them, and after a few moments of small talk, Blaise leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "The raids over the summer were intense."
Harry frowned. "Why were they happening?"
Theo and Blaise exchanged glances. "It's... complicated," Theo said hesitantly. "It has to do with our parents, the Death Eaters, and the Ministry's paranoia."
Harry's gaze didn't waver. "Then explain it. I want to understand."
Blaise sighed. "My mother always stayed neutral. She knew better than to pick a side. But that doesn't mean people like us weren't watched carefully. When the Ministry decided to flex its authority, they didn't care if we were involved or not—they just wanted control."
Theo nodded, his expression tense. "My father... he was a Death Eater. But I want nothing to do with him or his beliefs. You have to believe me, Harry. I don't support any of it."
Harry studied Theo's face and saw the genuine desperation in his eyes. "We are not our parents, Theo. I get it. You're not responsible for his choices."
Relief flickered across Theo's face, and he nodded gratefully.
Blaise cleared his throat. "There are whispers among the upper-class circles. Something's being put into motion at Hogwarts this year, but no one's sure exactly what."
Harry's stomach twisted. "That doesn't sound good."
"No, it doesn't," Blaise admitted.
Deciding to share something in return, Harry leaned in. "I caught a house-elf trying to keep me from coming back to Hogwarts. He was stealing my mail all summer."
Theo and Blaise exchanged another look.
Neville frowned. "Wait, who did they belong to? Do you know the house-elf's name?"
"Dobby," Harry said.
Theo and Blaise stiffened, exchanging a significant glance.
Neville caught it. "What? What do you know?"
Blaise exhaled slowly. "Back when we were younger, children of the Sacred Twenty-Eight had to meet at social gatherings. Draco Malfoy loved showing off his family's house-elf. Making him do things. His name? Dobby."
Harry's stomach dropped. "That means Dobby belongs to the Malfoys."
Silence fell over the group as they processed the implications. If the Malfoys had been behind Dobby's attempts to keep Harry away from Hogwarts, then Lucius Malfoy had a reason for wanting him gone. And that could only mean trouble.
They had just scratched the surface of a much deeper mystery, and Harry had a feeling they were going to need to be very careful about what they did next.
~
As October crept in and the castle began to cool, Harry found himself watching Draco Malfoy more closely. It wasn't that Malfoy had done anything to him—quite the opposite, actually. During their first year, Draco had never directly antagonised him, never sought him out just to throw insults like he did with Ron and Hermione. If anything, their interactions had been strangely civil, almost neutral. But this year, something had changed.
Harry noticed how Draco's eyes lingered on him in the Great Hall or during classes, watching with an unreadable expression before quickly masking it with a sneer if someone else was around. Sometimes it almost seemed like he wanted to say something, but then the usual Malfoy arrogance would take over, and he'd strut off as if he held some secret that no one else did.
"Have you noticed Malfoy lately?" Harry asked Luna one evening as they walked toward the library, their arms laden with books from their previous study session.
Luna hummed in thought. "He does look at you rather wistfully sometimes. As if he's seeing something he isn't sure he should. But then he ruins it with a frown. Perhaps he's fighting off Wrackspurts."
Harry let out a short laugh. "Or maybe he just knows something the rest of us don't. He's been acting... superior. Like he's figured something out."
"Maybe he has," Luna said, skipping a step ahead of him.
It was Halloween night, and the castle was alive with chatter and anticipation for the feast. The air was crisp with the scent of roasted pumpkins and cinnamon, but Harry was distracted. As they walked down a dimly lit corridor toward the library, a strange noise drifted through the air. A voice—low and hissing, sliding through the silence like an unseen shadow.
Harry stopped in his tracks.
"Harry?" Luna turned to him, her wide, silvery eyes blinking curiously.
Harry's heart pounded. He had heard that before. Not the exact words, but the language. It wasn't just a voice; it was Parseltongue.
"I hear something," he whispered. "It's speaking... about killing. It sounds big. Loud."
Luna didn't question him, simply nodding as she tilted her head, as if trying to catch the sound. "Then we should follow it."
Harry took off in the direction of the voice, Luna right behind him. The castle's stone walls seemed to absorb the sound, distorting it just enough that he couldn't tell where it was coming from. They rounded a corner, descending a staircase just as a chilling sensation ran down Harry's spine.
And then they saw it.
The corridor outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was flooded with water, trickling out from underneath the door and pooling across the floor. The flickering torchlight made the liquid shimmer ominously. But what caught Harry's attention—what made his stomach twist—was the writing on the wall.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.
Mrs. Norris, Filch's beloved cat, hung limp from a sconce, her glassy eyes frozen in terror.
Luna, usually unfazed by most things, looked shaken. "That's a rather ominous message."
Harry took a step back, his mind racing. "We need to tell someone. Right now."
Instead of lingering, instead of waiting for a crowd to gather, Harry grabbed Luna's hand and turned on his heel, sprinting toward the nearest hallway in search of a professor or prefect. They needed to report this before anyone else found the scene and started drawing conclusions.
As Harry and Luna sprinted down the corridor, their hurried footsteps echoed off the cold stone walls. The weight of what they had just seen pressed heavily on Harry's chest, his mind racing with possibilities. Who had written that message? What exactly was the Chamber of Secrets? And more pressingly—why did they kill Mrs. Norris?
They turned sharply at the next junction and nearly collided with Percy Weasley, who was patrolling the halls. His Prefect badge gleamed in the dim torchlight, and he immediately scowled at them.
"What are you two doing out here? You should making your way to the feast!" Percy scolded, adjusting his glasses.
"Percy, we don't have time," Harry gasped. "Something's happened! You need to get a professor—now!"
Percy frowned but took in their serious expressions. "What are you talking about?"
Luna simply said, "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Someone has left a warning."
The colour drained from Percy's face. "That—that can't be. That's just an old Hogwarts legend!"
Harry grabbed his arm. "Mrs. Norris is hanging from a torch holder, and there's writing on the wall. You have to believe us!"
Percy hesitated only a moment before nodding sharply. "Stay here. Don't move." He turned and ran back in the direction of the Great Hall.
Harry and Luna exchanged a look. "Do you think we should stay?" Luna asked, her voice as airy as ever but tinged with curiosity.
"Not a chance," Harry muttered. "Come on."
They hurried back toward the scene, slowing as they neared the corridor. The torches flickered, casting eerie shadows across the wet floor. Voices drifted from the far end—Filch's unmistakable shrieking, followed by a stern, authoritative voice that could only belong to Professor McGonagall.
Harry and Luna edged forward carefully, keeping to the sides of the corridor. A small crowd had already gathered—students who had wandered from the great hall, lured by the commotion. Ron and Hermione were among them, their faces twisted in concern.
"What's going on?" Ron whispered as Harry and Luna approached.
"Mrs. Norris," Harry murmured. "Someone attacked her."
Before Ron or Hermione could ask more, Dumbledore himself arrived, his presence immediately commanding the attention of everyone in the hall. His sharp blue eyes swept over the writing, then landed on the unmoving form of Mrs. Norris.
Filch was beside himself. "She's been murdered! Murdered in cold blood!"
Dumbledore knelt beside the cat and examined her closely. "She is not dead, Argus," he said gently. "Merely petrified."
The students murmured amongst themselves. A few Slytherins, including Draco Malfoy, stood toward the back. Draco had his usual sneer in place, but Harry caught something else in his expression—something almost like anticipation.
"But who did this?" Hermione asked, her voice unusually quiet.
"That is the question," Dumbledore mused, standing. "One we must answer carefully."
Snape stepped forward, his dark eyes flickering toward Harry. "Perhaps Potter could shed some light on the matter? He does seem to be in the thick of things, as usual."
Harry stiffened. "I just got here! Luna and I were on our way to the feast from the library."
Dumbledore's gaze sharpened, studying him.
McGonagall, looking deeply troubled, turned to Dumbledore. "What do we do now, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore clasped his hands in front of him. "First, we ensure that all students return to the feast immediately. I will investigate further."
The professors began ushering students away, but Harry and Luna lingered at the edges of the group.
"This is bad, isn't it?" Harry muttered as they walked toward the great hall.
"Yes," Luna whispered. "And it's only going to get worse."
Luna, still serene, simply said, "The castle is stirring. I wonder what else it will reveal."
Harry glanced back once more at the writing on the wall, unease curling in his stomach.
~
As the days passed and the tension surrounding the Chamber of Secrets continued to build, Harry found solace in the one thing that had always brought him a sense of freedom—flying. It had been his favourite part of first-year lessons, soaring above the ground, feeling the wind against his skin. He had considered trying out for the Quidditch team, but between his studies, uncovering mysteries, and avoiding unnecessary attention, he had never quite found the time. Besides, it was the flying itself that he truly loved, not the competition.
Luna, on the other hand, had struggled with her first-year flying lessons. She wasn't terrible, but there had been a hesitancy in her that hadn't quite gone away. She had once confided in Harry that she never felt entirely in control when she was in the air, and that uncertainty made her nervous.
That was something Harry could help with.
With permission from Madam Hooch, Harry arranged to borrow the school's broomsticks and reserve some time on the Quidditch pitch for an afternoon of practice. Luna was delighted when he told her, her usual dreamy expression lighting up with excitement and just a bit of apprehension.
The sky was clear when they arrived at the pitch, the autumn air crisp but not biting. The brooms weren't anything special—certainly nothing compared to the professional-quality ones the team used—but they would do just fine for practice.
Harry mounted his broom effortlessly, rising a few feet off the ground with ease. "All right, Luna," he said encouragingly. "Hop on. Just like we practiced."
Luna bit her lip but nodded, gripping the broomstick tightly as she pushed off. She wobbled slightly, rising awkwardly into the air.
"Good!" Harry called. "Now relax your grip a bit—you don't want to strangle the broom."
Luna loosened her fingers slightly, her movement becoming steadier.
"See? Much better. Now, let's try some gentle turns. Lean a little to the left."
She did as he instructed, her broom tilting unsteadily before adjusting. It wasn't perfect, but she was learning.
They spent the next hour going over basics—how to control her speed, how to make sharper turns, and how to regain her balance if she felt wobbly. Slowly but surely, Luna's confidence grew. By the time they took a break, she was beaming.
"I don't feel like I'm going to fall off anymore," she said happily.
Harry grinned. "That's the goal. Want to try flying a little higher?"
She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Yes. I think I'm ready."
They kicked off again, this time soaring higher above the pitch. Harry flew alongside her, guiding her gently as she tested her limits. He had to admit—teaching her was just as fun as flying itself.
As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, they finally decided to head back to the castle for dinner, chatting as they made their way through the corridors. But before they could reach the Great Hall, an all-too-familiar voice called out.
"Ah, Harry, my boy! Just the person I wanted to see!"
Harry stiffened as Professor Lockhart strode toward them, his flamboyant robes practically sparkling under the torchlight. Luna, on the other hand, merely tilted her head in curiosity.
Lockhart clapped Harry on the shoulder, beaming. "I must say, I've been meaning to have a little chat with you! You see, you and I have quite a lot in common!"
Harry resisted the urge to step away. "Do we?"
"Of course! Fame at such a young age! Natural talent! A knack for adventure!" Lockhart winked. "I dare say I could teach you a thing or two."
Harry's distrust of adults flared. Something about Lockhart's over-the-top charm felt disingenuous, like he was more interested in appearances than anything else. "I think I'm doing fine on my own, Professor."
Lockhart chuckled, waving a hand. "Oh, modesty! Very wise, very wise! But really, my boy, I see a bright future ahead for you. Perhaps even writing your own book one day?" He winked. "Fame is a fickle thing, you see, and one must know how to handle it. I could help you with that."
Harry forced a smile. "I'll keep that in mind, sir."
Lockhart beamed, seemingly unaware of Harry's reluctance. "Splendid! Well, I won't keep you from your meal. But do stop by my office sometime—we could discuss a few things, hmm?"
"Of course," Harry lied smoothly.
Lockhart flashed them both another dazzling smile before sweeping off down the corridor. As soon as he was out of earshot, Luna turned to Harry, voice a bit cryptic. "He's very sparkly. I think I forgot everything else just looking at him."
Harry let out a breath of laughter. "Yeah. That's one way to describe him."
~
The stands were alive with the roar of cheering students, banners waving as Slytherin and Gryffindor battled fiercely on the Quidditch pitch. The crisp autumn air carried the shouts and gasps of the crowd as players zoomed past, the game already proving to be one of the most intense of the season.
Harry sat with Neville and Luna in the Ravenclaw section of the stands, bundled up in their cloaks as they watched the match unfold. Luna, as usual, was speaking in her soft, airy voice, offering odd but strangely insightful observations about the players. Neville clutched his scarf, eyes darting nervously over the pitch.
"I still don't get how anyone can play this sport without breaking every bone in their body," Neville muttered, watching as a Bludger whizzed dangerously close to a Gryffindor Chaser.
"That's why they have Beaters," Harry replied with a grin. "It's all about control."
But control was soon the last thing on Harry's mind. A sudden whistling noise caught his ear, and he barely had time to turn before the Bludger veered off course—straight toward the stands.
"Watch out!" Neville yelled.
Instinct took over. Harry lunged toward Luna, pushing her down just as the ball smashed into the railing behind them with a deafening crack, splintering the wood into sharp shards. A collective gasp went up from the crowd as Harry scrambled back to his feet, his heart pounding.
The Bludger wasn't done. It hovered for a moment, almost as if calculating, before zeroing in on Harry once more.
"Harry, it's coming back!" Neville shouted.
Harry ducked as the Bludger whooshed over his head, smashing into the seat where he had been just seconds before. Students screamed and scrambled out of the way as it made another sharp turn, still locked onto its target.
"It's acting like it's got a mind of its own!" Luna observed, brushing dust from her robes.
Harry barely heard her. He was too busy trying to dodge the Bludger, which seemed determined to hit him no matter where he went. Someone had tampered with it.
And then it happened.
He was mid-dodge when the Bludger slammed into his left arm with brutal force. A sharp, searing pain shot through him, and he staggered, clutching his arm as his vision blurred. He barely registered the chaos around him—the shouting, the panicked calls of his friends, the sound of the game grinding to a halt as players turned to see what had happened.
Through gritted teeth, Harry did the only thing he could think of. Raising his wand, he aimed at the rogue Bludger. "Bombarda!"
The explosion sent a shockwave through the air, the Bludger bursting into pieces mid-flight. Shards of metal rained down harmlessly into the stands. For a moment, there was stunned silence—then an uproar of voices, students pointing and whispering about what had just occurred.
Harry barely had time to catch his breath before hands grabbed at his uninjured shoulder, guiding him down toward the field. "Mr. Potter, that was reckless!" McGonagall's stern voice rang in his ears.
Harry looked at her in disbelief. Did she not see what happened?
"You need to get to the hospital wing immediately."
"I'm fine," Harry tried to say, though the pain in his arm said otherwise.
"Nonsense!" came another voice, sickeningly cheerful.
Lockhart.
The Defence professor strode toward him with his signature dazzling smile, his robes shimmering obnoxiously in the sunlight. "Not to worry, my dear boy! I can fix this in a moment!" He brandished his wand, ignoring the way Harry instinctively pulled back.
"No—wait—" Harry started, but it was too late.
"Brackium Emendo!" Lockhart declared dramatically, tapping his wand against Harry's arm.
A strange sensation shot through his bones—then nothing. No pain. No feeling at all. Harry glanced down and felt his stomach drop.
His arm looked like rubber, completely boneless and flopping uselessly at his side.
"Ah," Lockhart said, his smile faltering slightly. "Yes. Well. That can happen. No worries! A simple overnight stay in the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey will have you sorted!"
Harry glared. "You removed my bones."
"Minor setback!" Lockhart chuckled weakly.
Madam Pomfrey was furious when Harry arrived at the hospital wing. "What were you thinking, letting him near you?" she huffed, marching him to a bed and forcing a foul-tasting potion down his throat. "Regrowing bones is painful business!"
She wasn't lying. That night, as his bones began to mend, Harry tossed and turned, gritting his teeth against the deep, aching throb in his arm. He had nearly drifted off into a fitful sleep when a soft pop startled him awake.
Harry's eyes snapped open to find a familiar, wrinkled face peering at him.
"Dobby," he muttered.
The house-elf wrung his hands together, his large eyes filled with an odd mixture of guilt and urgency. "Harry Potter must not be at Hogwarts!" he wailed in a hushed whisper. "Dobby thought if Bludger made Harry Potter leave—"
Harry's temper flared despite his exhaustion. "You did that? You nearly killed me!"
Dobby looked miserable. "Dobby meant only to protect, sir! To make sure Harry Potter left before terrible things happen!"
Harry sat up slowly, cradling his sore arm. "Dobby, I thought we sorted this. If I don't stay at Hogwarts they would only bring me back. I know you're the Malfoys elf, tell me what they've planned!"
The elf's ears drooped. "Dobby cannot, sir. Dobby is bound—"
"Then how am I supposed to stop it?"
Dobby hesitated, then whispered, "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before. It is happening again."
Harry felt a chill run down his spine. Before he could press Dobby for more, there was a sudden commotion at the entrance to the hospital wing. Footsteps, murmured voices.
Dobby vanished with a soft pop, and Harry quickly shut his eyes, feigning sleep just as a group of figures entered.
"Another attack," a voice whispered—McGonagall.
"The boy's been petrified," another voice, this one grave and knowing—Dumbledore.
Harry cracked his eyelids slightly, just enough to see them gather around a hospital bed. Colin Creevey lay there, stiff as stone, his camera clutched in his frozen hands.
Silence hung thick in the room before Dumbledore spoke again, his voice heavy. "The Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened."
Harry swallowed hard, keeping his breathing even.
Things were getting worse.
The next day dragged on with more speculation about the Chamber, but soon enough, they had to make their way to class. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor had Transfiguration together that afternoon, and Harry took a seat beside Neville while McGonagall strode to the front of the room.
As the lesson began, Hermione's hand shot into the air before McGonagall had even finished giving the day's objectives. "Professor, I was wondering if you could tell us about the Chamber of Secrets?"
The classroom fell silent, students exchanging uneasy glances. Even McGonagall hesitated, her sharp gaze sweeping over the students before she sighed and set down her wand.
"Very well," she said, her tone measured. "It is likely that many of you have already heard rumours about last night's events. Let me set the record straight. The Chamber of Secrets is said to have been created by Salazar Slytherin himself."
She walked slowly along the front of the class, her expression severe. "Slytherin, as you know, was one of the four founders of Hogwarts. He disagreed with the others about who should be allowed to learn magic. He believed that only those of pure wizarding blood should be taught at this school. When he was unable to sway them to his way of thinking, he left the school... but not before building a hidden chamber."
The room was deathly silent now, every student hanging on to her every word.
"Legends say that the Chamber of Secrets lies deep within the castle and that it can only be opened by the Heir of Slytherin. The Heir alone is said to be able to control the monster that resides within—a monster capable of purging the school of all who Salazar Slytherin deemed unworthy to study magic."
A nervous ripple passed through the room. Some students shifted in their seats, while others exchanged glances. Harry kept his face carefully neutral, though his mind was racing. A monster hidden within Hogwarts? And he had heard something last night—something large and filled with malice. It was definitely some sort of snake.
Michael, seated near them, scoffed. "But it's just a myth, right? I mean, no one's ever actually found it."
McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line. "That is not entirely true. The Chamber was said to have been opened once before. Fifty years ago."
Hermione leaned forward. "What happened?"
McGonagall hesitated, then continued. "A student was killed. The school was on the verge of closing when the culprit was caught and expelled. But the chamber was never found, nor was the monster. Many believed it was simply a coincidence, an unrelated tragedy... but with the events of last night, those old fears have resurfaced."
Harry could feel the tension in the room rising, and he noticed that some students were glancing at him as if expecting him to react. He kept his head down, pretending to be focused on his notes.
"Professor," Terry asked hesitantly, "do we know who was expelled?"
McGonagall's expression was unreadable. "I do not believe that information is relevant to our lesson today, Mr. Boot. Now, let us return to our transfiguration exercises."
~
The library was dimly lit with the usual soft glow of enchanted lamps, their light casting long shadows against the towering bookshelves. The quiet hum of pages turning and quills scratching parchment surrounded Harry, Luna and the others as they sat at their usual table in the far corner.
Harry let out a long breath, setting down the book he had been pretending to read. "Dobby admitted it," he said quietly. "He was the one who cursed the Bludger. He thought it would get me to leave Hogwarts."
Blaise leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "A house-elf interfering like that? That's unusual, even for one as free-spirited as Dobby."
Neville frowned. "But why? Why would a house-elf care so much about keeping you away from Hogwarts?"
"That's what I don't know," Harry admitted. "He said something bad was coming, something that happened before. He was terrified, but he wouldn't tell me exactly what."
Theo drummed his fingers against the wooden table. "We need to figure out what this 'bad thing' actually is. We know it has something to do with the Chamber of Secrets. And if the writing on the wall is any clue, it's targeting students."
Luna's serene expression didn't waver. "If something is petrifying students, we should be looking into creatures that can do that."
Harry nodded. "That's what I was thinking. I've already looked up a few things. Most creatures that petrify—like the Gorgons from Greece." And didn't that blow Harry's mind, that Gorgons were real.
Neville shuddered. "Gorgons? You mean like Medusa? The ones that turn people to stone just by looking at them?"
Harry pushed a book toward him, showing an illustration of a fearsome, snake-haired woman. "Exactly. Apparently, Gorgons could only be defeated by seeing their own reflection. That's why Perseus used a mirrored shield to avoid being turned to stone in the myths."
Blaise scanned the text, his eyes narrowing. "But if we were dealing with a Gorgon, we'd be talking about full statues, not petrification that can be reversed. And no one's mentioned any snake-haired women wandering around Hogwarts."
Theo nodded. "Right. So we need to look at other creatures that have similar abilities."
Luna tapped her fingers against her cheek thoughtfully. "Some basilisks have been known to paralyze their victims rather than kill them outright. It depends on how they're looking at their target."
Harry felt his stomach drop. A basilisk.
He had heard the voice. The hissing, murderous voice that no one else could hear. He knew, deep in his gut, what it meant.
He swallowed hard, glancing at the others. "It's a snake."
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. The group fell silent, their eyes locked onto him.
Neville blinked. "A snake? What do you mean?"
Harry clenched his jaw. He had never told anyone outside of Luna. It had been ingrained in him that Parseltongue was a dark gift, something feared by others. But these were his friends. If he couldn't tell them, who could he tell?
"I can speak to snakes," he whispered after throwing a silencing spell around them.
Theo leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "Parseltongue."
Harry nodded. "I heard it that night. A voice, talking about killing. I followed it, and that's when we found the message on the wall. No one else heard it—because it was speaking Parseltongue."
Blaise let out a slow breath. "So you're saying the monster in the Chamber… it's a snake?"
"I think so," Harry said. "If it's a basilisk, it would explain why no one's died. No one has looked directly at it. Colin had his camera, and Mrs. Norris saw the reflection in the water."
Neville looked unsettled but determined. "That means we know what we're up against. But how do we stop it?"
Harry ran a hand through his hair. "That's what we need to figure out. We don't know where the Chamber is, and we don't know who's opened it."
Theo's voice was quieter than usual. "People are going to start asking questions, Harry. If they find out you can talk to snakes…"
"I know," Harry said. "Please keep this between us. People don't like what they don't understand."
Luna smiled reassuringly. "It just means you can communicate in a way others can't."
Harry felt some of the tension in his chest ease.
"We will keep it a secret, won't we?" Neville said and pinned the others with a slight smile.
Blaise and Theo nodded, "agreed."
The conversation carried on well into the evening, their research leading them through different books on magical creatures, ancient myths, and Hogwarts history. They made notes, argued over theories, and slowly started to piece together what little information they had.
As November passed and early December rolled in, a new notice was posted on the board outside the Great Hall.
DUELLING CLUB – First Meeting December 17th in the Great Hall. Come learn how to defend yourself!
They all stopped to read it at the same time.
"This… could actually be useful," Blaise mused. "If something's going around attacking people, we should at least be prepared."
Theo smirked. "You just want an excuse to hex people."
"And you don't?"
If Lockhart was involved, this was bound to be a disaster. But it was also an opportunity.
"We should go," he decided. "If nothing else, we might learn something that'll help us."
Luna tilted her head. "Or at least, we'll learn what not to do."
Harry chuckled. "That too."