A Skirt's Not So Bad [Harry Potter]

[Tekomandor]

A Skirt's Not So Bad

Chapter One

"Goyle's gone home for Christmas?!" Harry asked, as he and his two best friends - Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger - sat in a disused girl's bathroom. It was a cold, damp place even in Autumn. In Winter, it was a wonder they could stand to be inside there for more than a few minutes. When the cauldron they'd hidden there was on the flame it was a little better, but plenty of the arcane steps to create it required a cold cauldron.

"The plan's ruined, then," Ron said dejectedly.

"Well, not necessarily..." Hermione said, looking at Harry and Ron a little oddly. Harry, recognising that expression, felt that there was a 'but' coming. "Pansy Parkinson's parents had some kind of emergency, and so she's staying for Christmas too," Hermoine continued.

"But we can't be Pansy!" Ron said.

"Didn't the book say that cross-gender polyjuice wasn't recommended?" Harry asked, thinking back to a hazily remembered passage.

"That was for long term use. You should be fine if it's just for an hour," Hermione said.

"I dunno, Hermione. Being Crabbe and Goyle is one thing, but being Pansy Parkison?" Ron said.

"I - I guess catching the Heir of Slytherin is more important than having to bear being Pansy Parkinson for an hour. You be Crabbe, Ron," Harry said after he gathered up his courage. His mind was racing at the thought - it seemed wrong to him somehow, something extra forbidden. Still, half-remembered rants by Uncle Vernon about 'queers' wasn't really worse than what they were planning to do and one thought to poor Colin Creevy lying petrified gave Harry the resolve he needed.

"That does bring up a problem - I already have my hair, and I had a plan to get Crabbe and Goyle's... but even Pansy Parkinson isn't thick enough to fall for it," Hermione said. Her voice had an unusual note of venom, and Harry thought that Hermione had the potential to be quite nasty if she wanted to be.

"What's your plan for Crabbe then?" Ron asked.

"Leave a cupcake dosed with sleeping potion out with him to find," Hermione said, shrugging. Harry and Ron both shared a lock of shock.

"Blimey, remind me to never make you mad again!" Ron said, and Hermione gave a sort of bashful smile.

"So what should we do for Pansy?" Harry asked.

"How's your stunning spell, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"What? You were there in Quirell's class, none of us could do more than make each other a little sleepy with it," Harry said.

"I dunno mate, you made me pretty bloody drowsy with it," Ron said.

"I think you might be able to pull it off with practice, Harry. If you can stun her from beneath the invisibility cloak, I can dose her with a mix of sleeping potion and forgetfulness draught that should make sure she doesn't remember it," Hermione said, her face wrought with determination.

"How are we going to get her alone, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Easy. She goes to the Owlery after dinner most nights - with most of the castle gone, it should be easy to get her alone and stun her from under the cloak," Hermione said. Harry nodded but again thought that making Hermione angry was probably a bad idea.

"Might be a useful thing to know how to do with the Heir running around, stunning," Ron muttered.

"I don't think I'm going to stun Slytherin's monster, Ron," Harry said.

"I reckon you could stun Malfoy, though," Ron said with a grin.

Harry couldn't help but grin at that thought. It was with that pleasant idea circulating in his brain that he, Ron, and Hermione spent several hours over a few days blasting cushions around disused classrooms with jets of red light. It was the sort of intensive study that Harry and Ron never did, but Harry found it surprisingly easy now that he knew he might put it to some use. It was still arduous and not that exciting, at least after the first few goes, but it felt more like looking for Nicholas Flamel had, even though it would actually come up on his OWL.

"I still don't get why it's a stunning spell and not a jinx or something," Ron said one winter afternoon. His stunning spell wasn't quite as good as Hermione or Harry's - both of them could stun each other fairly reliably now.

"That's... that's actually a good point, Ron," Hermione said, sounding a little shocked.

"No need to sound so surprised," he said, but he smiled at the praise all the same. "Say, how'd you get your hair, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Remember when Bulstrode put me in a headlock at the duelling club? She left some on my robes," Hermione explained.

"Are you sure it's hers? I mean, doesn't she have a cat - you could end up meowing for an hour!" Ron asked.

"It's not a cat hair," Hermione said, a little defensively.

"I wouldn't risk it if I were you. The pictures in that book were pretty horrific," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Oh fine. She always falls asleep trying to study in the library, I'll get one from her there," Hermione said.

--/--

Crabbe looked mournful as he roamed the corridors alone after the Christmas feast. Without Goyle, he seemed almost lost to a daze as he nibbled on deserts cradled in his arms. He bent over to pick up the cupcake, and with a single sad sigh, bit into it.

He landed on the ground with a soft 'thud', completely asleep. Ron ran out from around the corner, looking slightly amazed that Hermione's plan had worked. He bent down, picked off a hair, and dragged Crabbe into a cupboard.

"I feel almost bad about this now," Ron said, sighing as he closed the cupboard door. The poor boy seemed totally lost without his partner in thuggery.

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione waited just down from the Owlery under the invisibility cloak. Pansy had already gone up and sent her letter, and now all that remained was for them to enact their plan. Which, in Harry's estimation, was quite possibly the most reckless thing Hermione had ever rsuggested. Lacking any better plan, however, he got ready to cast beneath the cloak.

Pansy walked down, and then past the pair of Gryffindors. She seemed happy at whatever letter she was clutching, and was almost skipping. That seemed, to Harry, to be a little like Snape being nothing but polite and friendly - a sure sign of danger.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted as he threw off the cloak. Before Parkinson could even begin to turn, a jet of red light slammed into her back. She tumbled forwards, knocked out as surely as if Dudely had landed his hardest punch to the side of her head. Hermione rushed forward, quickly turning the girl over and pouring the two tiny vials of potion down her mouth. Harry then bent down and, a little awkwardly, plucked off a hair.

Without a word between them, Hermione took Pansy's legs and Harry her arms as they stuffed her somewhat inelegantly into a broom cupboard.

They all met back up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where Hermione handed out vials full of disgusting looking potion and sets of spare uniforms taken from the laundry - and a pair of her own shoes, charmed to fit Pansy, for Harry.

"Glad it's not me wearing a skirt, mate. Be almost worse than being Pansy for an hour," Ron said, as he ventured into a cubicle.

"Yeah..." harry said, trailing off. He for one felt a little nervous, but the idea didn't seem so awful to him. It was only a skirt - how bad could it be? Before he could find out, though, he had to take some Pansy-Parkison flavoured polyjuice and that he was dreading.

He dropped the hair into the vial, and it instantly became violently pink. Still the same disgusting sludge, but no it no longer looked like sewage. It only smelled like it came from a sewer. It'll be worth it when we find out Malfoy's the heir, Harry thought to himself. Then he looked at the girls uniform, neatly folded next to him. Here, alone, he could admit to being a little curious.

Harry downed the entire potion with a single gulp. It tasted acrid as if he'd just swallowed some chemical concoction. His insides writhed, and for a single moment, he feared that Hermione had got the potion wrong. Then he felt his bones begin to move - a feeling much worse than even the skelegrow he'd taken after Lockhart had vanished all the bones in his arms. His entire body seemed to burn and melt, reshaping itself rather violently.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the entire experience was over. Harry was standing there, but in the mirror stood a dark-haired girl with a pug nose. Far from the sense of wrongness Most Ponte Potions had said he should feel, Harry felt only an odd sense of, well, rightness. His uniform was tight in some places and oddly loose in others - Pansy was not quite as fit as Harry - but nothing about being Pansy Parkinson felt wrong in the slightest.

Avoiding looking in the mirror as he did so, Harry quickly got changed into the girl's uniform. It was mostly the same, and although the Slytherin tie felt wrong, nothing else about the uniform did. Absorbed by a kind of manic energy, Harry spun around quickly and marvelled at the skirt. That was not as awful as Ron had said it would be. That was... that was fun.

"Oi, you ready in there mate?" Ron said, in Crabbe's voice.

"Yeah, just let me get these shoes on," Harry replied and marvelled at how Pansy's voice sounded. Then he thought about Colin Creevy and all the other petrified kids - what if the heir came after Hermione - and went out of the stall. As fun as this was, Harry thought, he still had an heir to catch.

 

[Tekomandor]

Chapter Two

"Merlin, that's odd," Ron said as Harry and Hermione exited the cubicles. Harry was struck by just how large Crabbe was up close, and the slightly intimidating fact that Milicent Bulstrode was even bigger. In her case, Harry thought, it was less fat and more bulk.

"It's a good thing you made me get another hair, Ron - I put the one I got at the duelling club into some polyjuice and it was definitely not from Bulstrode," Hermione said.

"Honestly, this isn't nearly as bad as the book said," Harry muttered. He felt almost an embarrassment at that - as if he should feel bad. But if you can't be honest with friends who'd risked their lives to help you, who could you be honest with, Harry thought.

"Really mate? I guess it's not so bad for some people or something," Ron said, a little awkwardly.

"It didn't - oh, we're wasting time! We need to get going, we only have an hour," Hermoine said.

"You find out where the Slytherin common room is, Harry?" Ron asked, unusually eloquent for Crabbe.

"Followed Malfoy yesterday-" Harry began, only for Hermione to interrupt.

"We all need to start speaking like the people we look like! Harry, speak like a catty bully. Ron, speak like even more of an idiot... and I guess I need to speak mostly in grunts," Hermione said. Ron gave a half-hearted objection to 'even more of an idiot', but being told he was right about Hermione's hair took the sting out of it.

"Now if you two will stop fighting and follow me," Harry said as he turned and walked out of the bathroom, only barely holding in a giggle. Pansy Parkinson might not be so ugly when Harry looked like her - her nose wasn't really that bad - but she certainly was as bad as Draco in her own way. Aside from setting a monster loose on the school. Harry didn't think Pansy had done that.

"That's downright unnatural, that is," Ron muttered as they all made their way down into the dungeons. Hurrying down the steps in unfamiliar shoes was a little difficult for Harry, but his natural agility and quick reflexes kept him from any falls.

Harry had followed Malfoy under his cloak the day before, and he quickly led the trio through the Dungeons. He hadn't got close enough to overhear the password, so they'd need to find another Slytherin to follow. Unfortunately for them, the first person they found wasn't a Slytherin.

"Miss Parkinson, what are you doing out of bed at this hour? And you, Crabbe and Bulstrode?" Percy Weasley asked, hands on his hips. He sounded like a male version of Molly Weasley, and Harry was seized by a sudden mad impulse to laugh. He managed not to, but it was close.

"What's it got to do with you, Weasley? Down here looking for a handout from some real wizards? As it's not curfew yet, I suggest you go back to your muggle studies books," Harry said, and felt unclean as he said it.

"You should show more respect to a Prefect, Parkinson. Ten points from Slytherin, and get back to your common room. It's not safe out here at night," Percy said.

"Nobody's going to attack three purebloods down here, Weasley," Draco Malfoy said, as he stepped around a corner.

"Be that as it may, Mr Malfoy - off to your common room before I take more points," Percy said, a little flustered. The trio followed Malfoy as he walked off, and they heard him mutter something foul about blood traitors as he led them away.

"Where have you been, Pansy? You can't have been hanging around with these two oafs," Draco said.

"Obviously not. I ran into them on the way down from the Owlery," Harry said, flicking his long black curls as he spoke. That was fun, Harry thought.

"That Peter Weasley... what a suck-up. Thinks he's going to catch the Heir of Slytherin single-handedly by skulking outside our common room," Draco said, and Ron corrected him with a muttered 'Percy' that Draco didn't seem to notice.

"Good thing you came along and saved us when you did, Draco," Harry said, trying his best to imitate Pansy's sycophantic tone.

"I'm sure you'd have handled him, Pansy - pure blood - he's just another one of those dirt poor blood traitors," Draco said, uttering the password as they neared the concealed stone door. It opened to reveal a room very different from the Gryffindor common room. It was long and low, lit by hazy lanterns and a flickering fire. The green couches were immaculate leather, rather than the cozy-if battered cloth of the Gryffindor common room. "That reminds me, though - I have something to show that should make those points sting less. I'll be back in a moment," Draco said, walking towards the boy's dormitories.

The trio sat down a little awkwardly, making sure to not be too close together. Harry's eyes widened as he saw the titles on some of the books left lying around - '1001 Curses, Jinxes and Hexes' and 'Love Potions for the Beginning Witch' were some of the milder ones. Harry made sure he sat properly - he was sure Pansy wouldn't sit like he normally did. His skirt was still a little odd, but he had to keep from smiling too much - even though he had to pretend to be an awful person, being Pansy was surprisingly fun. Well, Harry thought, apart from having to talk to Draco Malfoy.

"Here it is - isn't it hilarious?" Draco asked, holding out a Daily Prophet clipping. It was a story about Mr Weasley being fined fifty galleons for enchanting a car, and Harry felt guilt run through him at the story. Hermoine thankfully remembered to laugh, and Harry was quick enough to try his best impression of Pansy's high, mocking laugh.

"That's hilarious, Draco. Best news I've seen all week," Harry said, hoping his fake smile matched the won Pansy usually wore.

"I've got some that's even better," Draco said as he leaned in. Harry found his obvious attempts to impress Pansy funny enough that not laughing was his biggest struggle. "My father says that not only are the attacks going to be reported soon but that they're going to get worse - and then Dumbledore will get fired! Just think about - no Dumbledore, no mudbloods, and certainly no Weasleys,"

"It would be nice... sounds like your father knows a lot about what's going on," Harry said, trying to flatter Draco Malfoy, and not even the fun of being Pansy could make up for that.

"Maybe, but he doesn't tell me much," Draco said.

"Are you sure? You must know something..." Harry said. Really, he thought, this was way too easy. Pretending to be Pansy was a way better plan than pretending to be Goyle.

"I've told you everything I know, Pansy. I wish I knew who the Heir was - I'd help them! But Father just says to keep my head down and let the Heir. Hopefully, he gets the Granger mudblood next. Merlin, I hope she's the one who dies!" Draco said, and Hermione gripped the chair she was sitting in a little too hard. "What's with the reaction, Bulstrode? Got a crush on the little beaver-face mudblood do you?" Draco said with a sneer.

"She just wants to kill Granger herself, more like," Ron said, before Hermione could speak.

"The one who dies?" Harry asked, shocked that Malfoy wasn't the Heir.

"Weren't you listening to me the last time, Pansy? The last time the chamber was opened, fifty years ago, a mudblood died! My father wouldn't say who did it, but he did tell me something interesting - the Heir managed to frame that oaf Hagrid and never got caught. Maybe he's going to make Potter take the blame this time - wouldn't it be grand to see Saint Potter, friend to the Mudbloods, get carted off to Azkaban?" Draco asked.

"Azkaban?" Harry asked dimly.

"The wizard prison? Are you feeling alright, Pansy?" Draco asked.

"I think I've got a bit of a headache," Harry lied.

"Not surprising after dealing with that Weasley blood traitor. Merlin, those types are almost worse than mudbloods - did I tell you the Ministry raided our manor last week? If they'd have found Father's real collection we might have been in trouble, but of course, they didn't know about the Malfoy's own secret chamber - right under our drawing-room," Draco said with a grin.

"I think you did... my headache's getting worse. I think I'm going to go to the Hospital Wing," Harry said. They'd gotten what they needed from Draco - even if it wasn't what they wanted. It was time to leave because Harry did not want Draco Malfoy to see him wearing a girl's uniform in the middle of the Slytherin common room. In fact, Harry was fairly certain he'd had that nightmare once or twice.

"I'll go with her. Go laugh at the mudbloods," Hermione said, as Ron grunted. Draco laughed a little, and the trio made a hasty retreat from the Slytherin corridor.

"Well, maybe we didn't learn who the Heir was - but I'm gonna owl my dad right away about that secret chamber," Ron said with a grin.

"At least we learnt something about the Chamber - but I have no idea who the Heir could be!" Hermoine said.

Harry, now that they were out of sight of any Slytherins, did a little spin. Yes, he thought, that was still as fun even after having had to pretend to be Pansy Parkinson. Even her voice was still fun - were there charms that could let him speak like this more often, he thought. Maybe not exactly like Pansy, but still.

"You alright mate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, a little shyly.

"Not exactly 'a truly horrific experience' like that book promised, being a bird then?"

"It's pretty fun... apart from having to pretend to be Pansy," Harry said, grinning a little. Hermoine's eyes narrowed, like she usually did when thinking about something - it looked quite bizarre on Bulstrode's face.

"I think I need to owl my parents about something..." Hermione said as the trio made their way back to the disused girl's bathroom.

A/N: So I was still a little inspired and kept writing

 

[Tekomandor]

Chapter Three

Harry felt himself change back in the little cubicle, his body twisting and melting. He was himself again, and he felt awful. It felt wrong, he realised. That slight itch, that old pain that he had no words for - taking the polyjuice had made it go away for a few moments, but it returned far worse. He hadn't known what was wrong before, what to long for. Now he had it given to him for an hour and snatched it away.

He sat there on the grimy floor, still in the uniform Hermione had borrowed for him, and Harry felt himself cry. Tears flowed down his face, and he hugged his knees. He could no longer ignore it, no longer brush it under happy memories of Hogwarts and the Burrow. It was Christmas Day at Hogwarts, and it all felt like ash to Harry.

The door remained closed, and Harry wanted it to never open. He wanted to stay here, where he at least wouldn't have to change out of the uniform. It didn't fit him particularly well, being sized for Pansy, but the over-large uniform was the most comfortable piece of clothing he'd ever worn.

"Are - are you okay in there Harry?" Hermione asked, quietly.

"Mate, you having trouble in there?" Ron asked a little later, but Harry couldn't respond. He might have been able to put it into words in his head, but how could he say them. His friends would laugh at him, think him a freak. He was a freak, he thought. Uncle Vernon had been right after all.

"It's wrong..." Harry muttered to himself through the tears, over and over again. He had never felt like this before, never felt such a wall of emotions slam into him as though they had physical force. It felt like he couldn't move, and he slumped against the wood of the stall. All the happiness and excitement he'd felt over the polyjuice had been drained from him and seemingly returned tenfold.

"Harry?" Ron and Hermoine said, as the door to the stall swung slowly open. He was still wearing the girl's uniform, and Harry felt a sudden bolt of shame.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked nothing in her voice but concern.

"Did you have a bad reaction to the potion, mate? Percy's always going on about bad cauldrons..." Ron said, not even registering the uniform.

"I - I want to go back," Harry said, very quietly. He still couldn't look at his friends, his face flushed with shame.

"What do you mean, 'go back'?" Ron asked, confused. "Did you leave something behind there, Harry?"

"I - I don't think Harry left anything behind," Hermione said slowly, without her usual confidence,
"Well, I dunno what's going mate - I can't read minds, you know. But you two stay right there, I need to go get something from Fred and George," Ron said, taking one last concerned look at Harry before dashing off.

"Up you get," Hermione said, pulling Harry to his feet and leading him over to the disused chairs that they'd set up inside the bathroom. He slumped into one, bonelessly. "Was it about not having to be Harry Potter anymore?" Hermoine asked. Harry shook his head. "We just want to help, you know, both Ron and I. What's making you so upset at changing back?" Hermione asked.

"It was -" Harry began, and then paused. How could he answer truthfully, how could he admit something so shameful? It scared him to his core, the idea of losing his friends. Perhaps an ordinary twelve-year-old might have given up then, spun an unconvincing lie. Even an extraordinary one couldn't be faulted for not saying it. But the Sorting Hat hadn't made a mistake when it said Harry had courage, and Harry had shown courage more extraordinary than most adult wizards the previous year. "It was about not being a girl anymore," Harry finished very quietly, yet it seemed like his words were deafeningly loud in the quiet of an almost empty Hogwarts.

"Oh," Hermione said very quietly. "I didn't - the potion didn't?" she asked.

"I - I don't think so. I think I was always like this. Always hurt, but I didn't say anything because I learned to live with it. Then I didn't, just for an hour, and I was so happy," Harry said. Harry toyed with the skirt, wanting to do anything but look at Hermione. She would think he was a freak, he was sure. She'd leave, find some excuse to run away.

"The book said that spending any real length of time polyjuiced as the opposite gender would be horrific... it's been like that for years for you, hasn't it?" Hermoine said, very quietly. The puzzle had been solved now, all her confusion gone. Harry nodded, and Hermoine hugged her. "I can't imagine what that must be like, Harry. I don't know how to make it better... but I'm going to try, no matter what. You and Ron were my first friends, you know? Nobody before you two would have cared to look for me with a troll on the loose. That night was the first time I'd ever stayed up late talking to a friend. I can tell it was the same with you when you made friends with Ron" Hermoine said, letting go of her hug.

"My relatives, my cousin made sure I didn't have any friends growing up," Harry said haltingly. He felt like Uncle Vernon would burst in screaming at any moment. "I don't know why Ron sticks around with us, sometimes," Harry said. She'd never had the large family, the ease of making friendships that Ron had.

"'Cause you're both better friends than any of other kids here and bloody brilliant, that's why," Ron said, bursting into the bathroom carrying a number of dark brown bottles.

"I'm not, Hermi-" Harry began, only for Ron to cut her off.

"Yeah, you are. Forget about all that Boy Who Lived stuff. You're the youngest Seeker in a century, and you damn well would have won the cup last year if you hadn't been busy saving the wizarding world!" Ron said, raising his voice. He looked a little red for a moment and then spoke again. "Anyway, it's still Christmas. No moping allowed. I got these from Fred and George," Ron said, offering Harry and Hermione one of the bottles each. They both took it warily.

"What is this stuff?" Harry asked.

"Butterbeer. You have to be thirteen to buy it, but I figure what's a few months either way after making polyjuice?" Ron said, grinning. Harry tried a little bit and found that she liked it. It had a pleasant sort of warmth to it, but only a little. It was sweet too, and Harry had to stop herself from laughing when she saw Hermoine enjoy it.

"Oh, alright," Hermione said, blushing a little as she drank the butterbeer.

"So, Harry, what's with the new style?" Ron asked, a little nervously.

"It just... feels better," Harry said, admitting it aloud.

"It's making you feel better, yeah?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded. "Good," he said and drank more butterbeer.

"I'll need to return that one... but you can borrow one of my old uniforms if you like. It should fit you," Hermione said, softly.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, unsure of herself.

"Of course," Hermione said.

"There's no one in the common room - Fred and George are up in their dormitory. You two could go get it now if you like," Ron said.

So the three of them set off, finishing their butterbeers on the way. They were all a little giggly by the time they reached the portrait hole - butterbeer was only very mildly alcoholic, but they were twelve.

"I'll stay down here," Ron said, a little awkwardly as Harry and Hermione walked up the staircase to the girl's dormitories. Harry realised just as she finished walking up that she'd never been up here.

Hermione smiled as they reached the top of the stairs, and turned towards Harry.
"Seems you're still a girl in Hogwarts' eyes, Harry" Hermione said, smiling.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"The staircase doesn't let boys up. Turns into a slide and makes noise," Hermoine said, as she opened the door to her dormitory room. Harry was still a little shocked as she walked in. It looked an awful lot like the boy's dormitory, as it turned out. Still, there were differences. She might be a girl, she thought, but that signed Lockhart poster made her gag. Hermione handed Harry the uniform, and they made their way back downstairs.

Fred was there, looking at Ron very oddly, and then at Harry even odder.

"How'd you manage to get up that staircase, Harry?" Fred asked, completely ignoring the girl's uniform.

"Because I'm a girl," she said without thinking and felt her cheeks go scarlet just afterwards.

"Never thought of that one myself!" Fred said and went back up to the boy's dorms. "Well, ask obvious questions and get obvious answers," he said, lightly chuckling to himself.

Harry slept a little easier that night, and the night after. Everything wasn't better at once, but she could see it getting better someday, and for now, that was enough.

Two days after Christmas, Hedwig arrived at Hogwarts with a reply from Hermione's parents. Harry wasn't sure what Hermione had written to them about exactly, only that they might know about Harry's situation.

The trio took the letter up to the second year boy's dorm, and began to read...

 

[Tekomandor]

Chapter Four

Dear Hermione

We were very concerned about your friend - it sounds like they were having a tough time. It's not really an area we know much about, but we reached out to some friends of ours who reached out to friends and so on. Mr Gould and his partner - from down the street - ended up being the most helpful.

Obviously what we can tell about your friend from a letter is limited, but they told us much more about what your friend's condition might be and put us in touch with a specialist doctor. We're still waiting to hear back, but based on our de-wizardised retelling of your description of the school staff Mr Gould suggested that your friend broach the subject carefully with Madam Pomfrey - hopefully, wizards have some instant cure that will make your friend feel better!

Love, your parents.

"Well, I'm confused. Is this muggle stuff? Why do they want you to speak to Madam Pomfrey?" Ron asked, looking at the letter.

"Specialist doctor?" Harry asked, also a little confused.

"Well, to honest with you, I'd heard a little about something in the muggle world that sounded a little like your problem, Harry. Sometimes it wasn't..." Hermione said but trailed off. Harry and Ron looked at her, and she gathered the courage to continue. "Sometimes it wasn't the most flattering things being said. But they were basically muggle equivalents to the Malfoys, so you shouldn't listen to them," Hermione finished.

"Muggles have Malfoys too?" Ron said, sounding a little shocked.

"I'm afraid the Wizarding world doesn't have a monopoly on rich inbred bigots, no," Hermione said.

"What do I say to Madam Pomfrey, anyway? I mean, she's nice and all, but how could I bring up the potion?" Harry said.

"Well, you know so long as you don't say the specific potion and let her fill in the gaps, I think you'd be alright actually. She basically never gets kids in trouble so long as they come to her when someone's hurt. Say, Hermione - what do they mean by 'partner' in that letter? Doesn't sound like a business partner," Ron said.

"His, um, romantic partner. Mr Chen. They can't get married, so..." Hermione said, blushing a little.

"Oh, I've got a cousin like that. Lives with a nice lady, Mum invites them round to dinner sometimes. Says neither of them can cook," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Huh," Harry said. She'd known about couples like that, of course, but mostly through her relatives' snide comments. She habitually believed the opposite of whatever the Dursleys said, but it was nice to have confirmation.

Later that day, the trio headed down to the Hospital Wing. Aside from the petrified students and Madam Pomfrey, no one else was there. Hermione looked at Harry.

"Would you like me to explain, at least about the potion, Harry?" Hermione asked, and Harry felt relieved. It would be an awkward enough conversation without having to talk about the potion.

"Yeah, thanks Hermione," Harry said.

"And what are you three doing in here? I know Mr. Potter is a frequent guest, but I'd rather hoped not to see him again this year," Pomfrey said, though she smiled at the three of them. She could be brisque, but she was generally a friendly sort.

"Out of, um, academic curiosity I may have brewed a potion capable of turning one person into another physically for a short time, and Harry may have tried some, as a female student, and been quite distressed-" Hermione said.

"Found being a girl quite distressing, Potter? Not to worry, that's normal - and you should start to feel better now that you've changed back," Pomfrey said.

"N-no, Madam Pomfrey. I only started to feel bad after it ended," Harry said, nervously. It was an embarrassing thing to talk about, especially to an adult.

"After it ended? And you felt no distress during the transformation?" Pomfrey said, sounding quite bewildered.

"Y-yeah. It was kind of - kind of nice," Harry said, nervously.

"Well, I've seen quite a few students who ignored the warnings and tried out some polyjuice - and don't think I don't know what that potion you're referring to is young lady - it's mostly been for the distress caused by the transformation. Not for any who were distressed it ended. I must admit I don't know what this could mean, but why don't you two go wait outside and I'll ask Harry here a few more questions," Pomfrey said, and Ron and Hermione exited the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey then went on to ask Harry a few embarrassing questions about her experience with the polyjuice potion, and then took an old tome from a glass-fronted cabinet.

"Now, I think there may be some records - ah, here we are. Celestina Harrow, a well-known medi-witch from the seventeenth century who wrote in her diary that she was 'born with the body of a wizard, but upon taking the form of a friend with polyjuice felt quite strongly that she should instead have that of a witch'. Does that sound like your feelings, Potter?"

Harry paused for a moment. It was a big question - but she'd already come this far. It was the same sort of logic that made her press on against the defences of the Philosopher's Stone last year - a perhaps foolhardy sort of courage. But then, Harry thought, the sorting hat had put her in Gryffindor for a reason.

"Maybe not in those words, but yeah," Harry said.

"Well, you're lucky I needed to look up Harrow's Mandrake Draught recently! Unfortunately whatever she did to address that feeling isn't in this volume, and she was quite the private person... still, it's a start. Just one last question... you haven't by chance made it up the stairs of the girl's dormitories recently, have you?"

"I did a few days ago. I didn't know about the defences at the time, though," Harry said.

"An interesting bit of magic Gryffindor put into his tower. Old fashioned chap, but he spelled it to work off of self-perception after a couple of lads took some polyjuice to beat it. Professor Flitwick usually tells that story in OWL year, so make sure you act surprised Potter. In any case, I will need to consult with some others before I have something for you, without mentioning your name, but we should be able to work something out," Pomfrey said, and Harry felt a wave of relief wash over her. Neither the muggle nor the wizarding world had offered an immediate solution, but it seemed like there would be one in time to stop her from growing a beard or a deep voice - or anything awful of that sort.

"So how'd it go, mate?" Ron asked as they walked back to the tower.

"Pomfrey found out someone it'd happened to before, the Witch who invented the Mandrake draught! She doesn't know what that witch did, but she thinks she might be able to help me in a little while," Harry said, beaming.

"I think that's the happiest you've been all - what's all this water?" Hermione said as they rounded a corner.

"Moaning Mrytle's flooded her bathroom again, most likely," Ron said.

"We should probably go calm her down," Harry said, feeling sorry for the ghost. She might be annoying, but Harry reckoned being Moaning Myrtle would be a pretty unpleasant existence. The trio held up their robes and ventured past the corridor where Filtch's cat had been petrified, and then into the bathroom itself.

"Who's come to throw things at - oh, it's you three. Feeling alright, Harry?" Myrtle said, which threw Harry completely off guard.
"Um, yeah. Thanks, Myrtle. Were people throwing things at you?" Harry asked.

"Here I was, minding my own business, and someone threw a book at me! Who throws a book at someone minding their own business in a U-bend, honestly?" Myrtle said, and Harry looked over in the direction that Myrtle pointed. There was a sleek black book lying there, title side down. The strangest thing about it, though, was that it seemed to be completely dry. Indeed, Harry saw how the water seemed to be held just away from it.

"That's... odd," Hermione said, as she picked the book up.

"Are you crazy Hermoine? That could be dangerous!" Ron shouted, knocking the book out of her hands. Hermoine looked up in surprise before she put her hands to her mouth in horror.

"Oh, how could I forget - what if it had been like Sonnets of a Sorcerer and I'd spent the rest of my life only being able to speak in limericks," Hermione said.

"I was more thinking about the kind that burnt your eyes out - or the Egyptian ones my brother Bill's told me about. They do all sorts of nasty stuff to you," Ron said.

"Well, Hermione picked it up and nothing happened to her - so that should be safe enough," Harry said, as she exclaimed the book more closely. It had landed title side up, this time. It was a diary from fifty years ago - and Harry felt her blood run cold.

"Ron, Hermione... look at this. It's a diary from nineteen forty-two - fifty years ago!" Harry said.

"So it's an old diary, maybe whoever owned it cursed it-" Ron began, only for Hermione to interrupt him.

"Oh of course! Ron, Malfoy said that the Chamber was last opened fifty years ago, and that the Heir at the time framed Hagrid for it!"

"I dunno Hermione, framed Hagrid for it? I thought Malfoy was just trying to impress Pansy," Ron said.

"Probably, but I think he was repeating more of what his dad told him than he might have been allowed to," Harry said, and she picked the Diary up. Nothing exploded. She flipped it open, and saw only a name scrawled into the inside cover - Tom Marvolo Riddle. The rest of the pages were blank.

"Why'd someone enchant a fifty-year-old diary without anything written in it, then try and chuck it down a toilet?" Ron asked.

"I dunno, but there's something about it... I don't think it's just an empty diary," Harry said, as the three of them headed up to the common room.

 

[Tekomandor]

Chapter Five

"I've tried everything I could think of, Harry," Hermione said as she put her Revealer away. It was a magical gadget that made little sparks and revealed invisible ink, but it had found nothing on the pages of Tom Riddle's diary.

None of their spells, nor even Hermione's Revealer could make anything show up on the blank pages of the diary. It seems Tom Riddle had bought a diary from a shop on Vauxhall Road, enchanted it against danger, and then forgotten about it. Harry still didn't think it was a coincidence, she couldn't think of anything else to try.

"I bet you Riddle was just a forties version of Percy and enchanted all his books, Harry. Have you seen the size of his trophy in the trophy room?" Ron said, and Harry shook her head in surprise.

"He has a trophy in there?" Harry asked.

"For 'Special Services to the School'. Sounds like a right tosser, if you ask me," Ron said, and Harry felt inclined to agree with him. Hermione pursed her lips in a look of disapproval. Harry stashed the book deep in her trunk, convinced that there was something more to it, and the excitement of the Christmas holidays soon distracted her.

She and her friends spent their time playing wizard's chess, getting into snowball fights with the Weasleys and only worrying a little over the Heir of Slytherin. Harry's life was, without thinking Malfoy was plotting to kill her friends, nice enough that she felt little drive to investigate further. She thought back to little Colin Creevy, lying petrified, and was occasionally guilty - but nothing she tried on the diary worked, and she had no further leads.

Soon enough, several weeks had passed and the holiday came to an end. Students filled the halls once more, and Harry found herself back in the Hospital Wing, looking rather nervously up at Madam Pomfrey.

"Now, Potter, the muggle doctor Granger's parents were able to put me in touch with managed to give me a few ideas. While I can't give you something to make your problem better, I can give you something that will stop it from getting worse. A simple potion, taken once a week, that will prevent any progress through a male puberty. Does that sound like it would help for now?" Pomfrey said, and Harry beamed. It wasn't what she really wanted, but just knowing that it wasn't going to get worse - that was enough for now.

"Definitely," Harry said, eagerly.

"Good. You should find doses on your bedside table every Sunday morning from now on. Hopefully, you won't need to take these for too long - I think I have something that would allow you to experience female puberty almost right, but I'll need to make certain it works before giving it to you. Anything further is a bit beyond my skills, I'm afraid, but you are lucky to attend a school run by a very open-minded master of transfiguration and alchemy," Pomfrey said.

"You didn't tell Professor Dumbledore about me, did you?" Harry asked, worried. She'd die of embarrassment.

"I told him it was for a student, but nothing more. He, of course, knew what that muggle word - 'transgender' meant without me explaining it to him. Where he finds the time..." Pomfrey muttered as she got a small clear glass of cherry-red potion out. Harry drank it eagerly and was surprised to find it tasted mostly like cheap cough medicine.

"Thank you again for this, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said.

"Just doing my job, Harry dear. I'm just glad to see you in here for a good reason, rather than another near-fatal act of heroics. Now, off you scarper," Pomfrey said, smiling. Harry eagerly left the hospital wing, to see Ron and Hermione waiting outside.

"Was she able to help you, Harry?" Hermione asked as they walked out onto the grounds to enjoy their Sunday afternoon.

"She gave me a potion to stop it getting worse-"

"Dying, are you Potter?" Draco Malfoy said in his mocking drawl.

"I'm better than ever, Malfoy. You'll have to find some actual talent if you want to win the Cup next year," Harry said, to even Hermione's laughter.

"Got any letters from daddy recently?" Ron said with an evil grin. Draco went white, and he went for his wand - only for Harry to be faster.

"Expeliarmus!" she shouted, just as Snape had done to Lockhart in the duelling club. Malfoy went stumbling backwards as Harry plucked his wand out of the air. Crabbe and Goyle moved a step or two towards the trio, but Ron and Hermione had their wands out now. "Now what should I do with this?" Harry wondered allowed, then an evil grin crossed her face. "Fetch, Malfoy!" she shouted and threw the wand as far as she could across the green. He went running after it, and all three Gryffindors were reduced to tears of laughter.

"I'll get you for this, Potter - you and your pet mudblood!" Draco shouted, but Harry found it hard to be intimidated by Draco Malfoy after finding out he wasn't the Heir.

She wasn't laughing a little more than a week later, however, when Hermione showed her the front page of the Daily Prophet at breakfast.

EXCLUSIVE: POTTER A PARSELTONGUE?

Explosive allegations coming out of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have rocked this reporter. It seems that the fabled Boy Who Lived is more than a hero and a Quiddich sensation - he might be a dark wizard in the making! Multiple sources - pureblood and muggle-born alike - have confirmed to this reporter that Britain's Boy Hero displayed the dark talent during a school-sanctioned duel. Some of the students I spoke to claimed Potter was trying to stop a summoned snake from attacking another, uninvolved student, whilst others (who this reporter must sadly judge as both more numerous and more credible) claim he was "egging it on,"

This news surely raises new questions as to the events of that fateful day almost twelve years ago - is the unknown power that let our hero defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named darker in nature than some (especially Albus DUmbledore) have led us to believe? This reporter can't answer that question right now, but it is my promise to you, our devoted readers, that I will continue to search for the truth no matter the opposition.

(Continued Page 5. More Potter News in the sports section, Page 78)

- Rita Skeeter

"I bet you anything Malfoy's behind this," Ron said, looking a little apologetic for having started their fight a week ago.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Ron. Half the school thinks I'm the Heir of Slytherin already," Harry said, focusing on arranging her bacon, toast, and eggs into a sandwich.

"This could be bad, Harry. Lots of people read Skeeter," Hermione said.

"Even if they do Hermione, not like I can do anything about it," Harry said, and then ate her sandwich. She'd need it for today's first lesson - defence with Lockhart. He'd been making worrying rumblings lately about a 'Valentine's Day Pick-Me-Up' for the school. Harry thought that there might be worse things in life, but only barely.

"Now class, today we're going to be examining how I bravely banished the Bandon Banshee. Now we'll need a volunteer from the girls to play the part..." Lockhart said, as just about every girl in the classroom raised their hands. Ron made an audible gagging noise, and Harry agreed with him.

After an hour of excruciatingly boring performances from one of Lockhart's books (as all his lessons had been after the pixie incident), Harry was almost looking forward to potions.

"Ah Harry, mind hanging back for a little chat?" Lockhart said as students began to depart. Harry sighed, but sat back down. "There's a good lad. Now, about that story in the paper - clever work my boy, clever work indeed! Why I should have seen it earlier - you're a growing young man, and the squeaky clean hero image didn't fit. What a way to add a little edge - you know, I'm sure I could get you a word with Rita," Lockhart said, and Harry felt like she'd been punched in the gut. People still called her 'Mr Potter' and 'he', since the only students she'd told about her being a girl were Ron and Hermione. But this hurt.

"N-no thank you, professor," Harry said, and scampered to leave the classroom. In her haste, though, she knocked over one of her inkpots. It went tumbling and ink-stained the bottom of her bag. She quickly managed to get her books out of harm's way, but she felt despair as she noticed that book in the bottom of her bag. Tom Riddle's diary was soaked with ink. Hastening from the classroom before Lockhart could try and help her, Harry noticed with fascination as the ink seemed to be sucked up into the diary.

Harry suddenly felt very stupid for not trying to write in the diary before now. She'd have to catch up with Ron and Hermione, and then they could test it out that night.

Late that night, the three of them sat in their pyjamas around a table in the common room, lit by the dying fire. Everyone else had gone to bed, and so they had an excellent chance to examine the diary.

"Are you sure about this, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I saw it suck up the ink... I think we should at least try writing in it," Harry said.

"Don't blame me if you end up cursed, mate," Ron said. Harry rolled her eyes, dipped her quill in some more secure ink, and began to write.

"My name is -" she began, only to pause. Harry was a boy's name. She wasn't sure if she wanted to change it, especially since there wasn't an easy female equivalent, but it still felt a little odd. -"Harry Potter," she continued. Maybe she could talk to Hagrid, find out if her parents had had any names ready for a girl, she thought.

All three of them felt their eyes go wide as the ink sunk into the page, and new words formed in reply.

"Hello, Harry. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?" it asked, and Harry looked at Ron and Hermione.

"I told you we should write in it!" Harry said with a grin.

"Blimey, that's not something you see everyday. How's it doing that, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"I... I don't know, Ronald," Hermione said.

"I found it in a toilet. Someone threw it at a ghost," Harry wrote.

"Then it is to both our good fortune that I recorded my memories in a form far more durable than ink and paper. That there would be those who did not want others to hear the truth - the truth I wrote of in this diary - was something I expected,"

"What do you mean, Tom?" Harry asked.

"This diary was written in a dark year - for the world as a whole, of course, and yet also for Hogwarts. War did not touch us in these hallowed halls, but darkness did - and there are those who would do terrible deeds to prevent that truth from being known,"

"I'm - we're at Hogwarts now. My friends Hermione and Ron are with me, reading over my shoulder. We want to find out about the Chamber of Secrets." Harry wrote. The wait for the ink to sink into the page felt almost agonising.

"I know all about the Chamber of Secrets - about how the true culprit was allowed to go free, and how the monster escaped justice,"

"Can you tell us about it?" Harry wrote, her handwriting messy from excitement.

"No."

"But I can show you." Riddle wrote, and Harry found herself pulled forward by some invisible force. She seemed to almost be sucked in to the Diary, and then there was a flash of bright light. When it faded, she found herself, Ron, and Hermione standing in and oddly grey Hogwarts corridor.

"Where are we?" Harry wondered as she looked around, and then she noticed where she was. Dumbledore's office, but with all trace of whimsy wiped away. Gone were the whirling knick-nacks, the bright spinning orbs, the phoenix. Leatherbound books in neatly ordered rows replaced them, most of them clearly never read.

In Dumbledore's place sat a man she'd never seen before. No, she had seen him once before - as a portrait in Dumbledore's office. Then things began to move. She heard Riddle talk with Dippet, saw him descend down into the dungeons, and confront Hagrid. Saw him raise his wand and say 'Bombarda' in his cruel drawl, saw Hagrid leap in front of the curse to protect a dog-sized spider. Saw Riddle try to curse the spider once more, and miss.

Then, with jarring suddenness, Harry found herself and her friends back at the common room table. Harry felt cold. Combined with what she'd learnt from Malfoy... the diary trying to show her that vision could only mean one thing.

"Fifty years ago... it was Riddle," Harry said, not quite believing it. He'd sounded so noble as the diary, but she couldn't see any other way Hagrid could have been framed. Riddle had opened the Chamber of Secrets, killed someone, and gotten away with it.

"Must have been. Only one question though, Harry. Where's the diary?" Ron asked, and they all looked down. Where the diary had been sitting was only a spilled inkpot, and a rapidly drying stain.

A/N: I'm not going to repeat scenes that would just be almost word for word from the books. Well, we had a little book and movie blending here.

 

[Tekomandor]

Chapter Six

"It can't have just got up and moved by itself," Harry said.

"Obviously not. Someone had to have taken it while it was showing us the memory - maybe that's why it cut off so suddenly," Hermione said.

"I dunno... if Riddle really did do it, there might be something right after him cursing Hagrid that he didn't want us to see," Ron said, slowly. Harry and Hermione's eyes widened.

"I think you're dead-on, Ron," Harry said.

"That still begs the question - who stole the diary?" Hermione said.

"Who'd want to steal a blank diary?" Ron asked.

"The Heir of Slytherin," Hermione said, her face pale.

"But a Slytherin can't have gotten up here," Harry said, although as she said it she knew what Hermione's answer would be.

"Then the Heir of Slytherin is in Gryffindor," Hermione said.

"Come off it, Hermione. The Heir can't be a Gryffindor - the Hat would send him straight to Slytherin," Ron said.

"He might have asked to come here," Harry said, quietly. She'd been too afraid to reveal this before, but holding onto it felt a little silly now that she had shared a much deeper secret.

"What do you mean, asked? You can do that?" Ron said.

"The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but the only Slytherin I knew then was Malfoy, so I asked it to put me in Gryffindor," Harry said. She looked at Ron and Hermione and was relieved to see that they didn't seem to be taking it too badly.

"Not every dark wizard was from Slytherin, you know. You-Kno-Who's second in command was a Gryffindor, you know," Hermione said. Harry and Ron's eyes widened.

"I never knew that," Ron said.

"I guess we just need to keep an eye out for anyone acting oddly, then. And at least the diary gave us a few clues - we know who opened the chamber last time, and we know what House the Heir is in this time. We'd never have known he was a Gryffindor if he hadn't stolen the diary," Harry said.

"Well if it is a student... I reckon you might have had the right idea about duelling, Harry. Do either of you know what spell we were supposed to learn to protect ourselves at the duelling club?" Ron asked. Harry didn't know, but she did give Ron's words some thought. Though she didn't rate her chances against a Seventh Year in a straight duel, Harry thought her stunner could probably knock even an adult out now - she'd gotten quite good at it when she'd practised it to stun Pansy.

The Heir of Slytherin was a mysterious figure who could conjure monsters and fling deadly curses, but Harry thought she could probably stun anybody else in Gryffindor tower in the back if she had her cloak on.

"I think I know a few, but even the easiest one is a third-year charm - and a proper shield spell is OWL level magic," Hermione said.

"Well, I won't manage it - especially not with this thing," Ron said as he held up his broken wand. "But maybe you two could learn it. Might be a good idea, living in the same tower as the Heir and all,"

None of them could disagree. In the end, they only occasionally practised the charms - homework and fun kept them far busier than they had been on the Christmas holidays. Harry and Hermione could deflect schoolyard jinxes and occasionally a disarming spell, but not one of their stunning spells. Harry wasn't keen to try out her defensive spells against the kind of dark curses the Heir was likely to know (though she was still confident in her 'stun them from under the cloak' plan).

Despite the tension running throughout the school, the worst thing to happen in February was Lockhart's Valentines Day celebration. Harry was inundated with singing valentines, all of which contained truly awful poetry. She did feel sorry for Ginny Weasley - while Ginny's was just as bad, she was just a star-struck kid. Harry didn't think she deserved being publicly humiliated for writing it.

Harry and her friends tried to keep an eye out for the Heir, but none of the Gryffindors seemed to fit. The trio quickly stopped following older students around under the cloak if they looked like they were sneaking off somewhere - Harry hadn't been aware that there was quite that much snogging going on at Hogwarts. She really didn't want to see Percy Weasly kissing Penelope Clearwater that passionately ever again.

February turned to March, and then to April, and there were still no attacks. Harry had even begun to regain some social standing, and she half wondered whether the Heir had just given up. Maybe he'd grabbed Riddle's diary back and decided that one close call was enough. That was Ron's theory, though Harry didn't think so.

As their Easter holidays started, Harry and her fellow Second-Years were given something new to think about. Forms for choosing their third-year electives had been given out. It suddenly seemed as if every relative, older sibling, and prefect in the world had begun to bombard them with advice. Hermione listened to none of it and simply signed up for every class.

"Urghh. I can't believe we have to take more classes," Ron said, as he and Harry poured over the lists of classes and their descriptions. Hermione was sitting next to them, her own form already filled in.

"Well, all of them are useful. Ancient runes is a little dry, but most permanent magic in Europe is still done in them - and Arithmancy is used in everything from professional Quidditch to spell creation," Hermoine said. Harry's felt drawn to the word 'Quidditch'. Magical maths sounded a little intimidating, but she'd been pretty good at maths back in primary school. And, Harry thought to herself, making her own spells sounded like it could be cool. "Care of Magical Creatures speaks for itself of course, and though Divination is a little... unreliable, most scholars do think it works. I wouldn't recommend Muggle Studies for you, Harry, but it might be good for you, Ron," Hermione said.

"If I have a question about Muggles, I could just ask you or Harry," Ron said, and Hermione smiled.

"Well, yes. But that means we could always help you with your homework," Hermione said. Harry thought that was a particularly devious little argument on Hermione's part.

"You're a genius, Hermione! Let's just put Magical Creatures as my second subject... what are you taking, Harry?" Ron asked.

"I'm trying to decide between Arithmancy, Magical Creatures, and Divination," Harry said. All of them sounded interesting to her - telling the future sounded like it could come in handy one day, and given all the monsters she ran into on a yearly basis, knowing a little more about them sounded like a good idea.

"You know, it's not uncommon to take three electives. You could just take them all, Harry," Hermione said. Harry looked down at her form and considered. It would be more work, but she had found her classes and homework to not be too bad this term. Now that she wasn't feeling so weighed down by her bad feelings about her gender, she'd rediscovered a little bit of the excitement she'd felt reading her textbooks before coming to Hogwarts. She wasn't nearly as devoted to studying as Hermione was, but three electives didn't sound too bad.

"Yeah, I think I'll do that," Harry said, marking them down on her form.

"Taking three electives? That's a bit of a risk, mate. What if you hate one and have to keep it for years?" Ron asked.

"You can drop one if you don't like it - you're only required to take two," Hermione explained. Ron looked down at his form and marked Runes a little shyly.
"Bill said the stuff about enchantments and wards and stuff was important," Ron said, blushing a little.

"Isn't he a curse breaker?" Hermione asked, interested.

"He was also about as devoted to homework as you, Hermione, so I don't think I'll be breaking into pyramids for the Egyptian ministry after Hogwarts... but maybe I could do some of the easier ones. Go and break into old Roman ruins here or something. Still sounds pretty fun," Ron said. Harry didn't know what being a curse breaker meant, but it sounded exciting. Still, she thought her most likely option for a career after Hogwarts was probably 'Professional Quidditch Player'. Although maybe she could hunt dark wizards for a job or something - she seemed to run into enough of them that maybe she should get paid for it.

She briefly entertained a daydream of Harry Potter, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, English Seeker and part-time Dark Wizard Fighter. She'd win the World Cup and catch a dark lord for good measure.

"Harry?" Ron asked.

"What - sorry, what'd you say Ron?" Harry asked.

"Nevermind. At least we have Care of Magical Creatures together, though. That sounds like it could be fun," Ron said, and Harry nodded. She then went back to her very pleasant daydream. Maybe she'd have a rivalry with the very pretty French seeker...

Soon enough, though, a real Quidditch match turned up. Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff - and Hufflepuff had a new Seeker. Cedric Diggory was rumoured to be much better than their previous seeker, and Harry was actually a little worried. She had been trained into the ground by Wood, and it ate up so much time that she hadn't tried to think of who the Heir might be in weeks. She, Ron and Hermione headed up to Gryffindor Tower on the day of the match - it was almost eleven already, and Harry would have to fly down to the pitch if she wanted to get changed in time.

Then Harry heard a familiar voice, and her blood ran cold.

"Kill this time... let me rip, let me tear!"

"Ron, Hermione - I just heard it again. I heard the voice again!" Harry said, loudly.

"I don't hear anything-" Ron began, only for Hermione to interrupt him.

"I've just - I need to go to the library right now!" Hermione said, looking very much like she'd just figured something out and felt very stupid for not doing so much earlier.

"Wait, Hermione - you and Ron should go together. The Heir knows we had the diary," Harry said, and her two friends nodded.

"Good thinking, mate. You go thump Hufflepuff and we'll handle this, yeah?" Ron said, and then her two friends went running towards the library.

"Just in time, Potter!" Wood shouted as Harry rushed out of the changing rooms with her Quidditch robes on. The team walked out onto the pitch, only to find pandemonium waiting for them. Students were rushing from the stands, and the teachers seemed to be leading them in the evacuation. Professor McGonagall

"The match has been cancelled," McGonagall said, her voice oddly soft. "Wood, take the team back to the tower - in the air, as quick as you can. Harry... I think you should come with me," she continued, and Harry felt confused. What had happened to cause all this, she wondered.

When she got to the Hospital Wing, she felt sick. There, lying with the other petrified students, were Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Guilt raged through her. She'd sent Ron with Hermione, gotten him petrified - and she'd let Hermione go without her. She sat numbly between their beds, staring up at the ceiling. It didn't seem real.

"They were carrying mirrors, Potter. Do you know why?" McGonagall asked, but Harry just shook her head. She couldn't understand why they'd been doing that, but something about that mystery knocked her out of her daze. Numbness was replaced by rage. Harry no longer wanted to catch the Heir - she wanted to kill him. She thought back to the curse Riddle had used in the diary, how it had sent Hagrid flying and blown apart stone. She thought about the books she'd seen in the restricted section in her first year. When she found whoever had hurt Ron and Hermione, she wasn't going to use stunning spells and disarming charms.

Harry wiped away her tears and stood up. She'd let herself be distracted from finding the Heir for too long, and her friends had paid the price.

 

[Tekomandor]

Chapter Seven

Harry spent that night in the Restricted Section, under her invisibility cloak. She had a thick, old tome open and was copying down any spells that looked like they'd be useful for killing the Heir. She held her lit wand in her left hand whilst she copied spells down into a notebook she'd found in Hermione's bag with her right. She'd checked out all the non-restricted books on duelling, and the upper-year DADA textbooks from previous years, she could during normal hours. Now she needed information on the sort of spells she couldn't find in a textbook. Cutting curses, bone-breaking hexes, blasting curses - and darker still.

She did that, and relentlessly drilled the spells whenever she could get away, for a week. Her grades in class began to suffer from her singular focus, but she didn't care. She cast over and over again, sneaking out of the lockdown the school was under with her cloak. Some of the spells - the darker ones - she couldn't quite cast. Still, Harry blasted apart disused furniture, scorched walls with gouts of flame and more. She wanted to get the drop on the Heir with her cloak, but Harry knew that might not happen. She'd started to work on her shield charm, one of the few new spells she could openly practise, when an owl from Madam Pomfrey arrived.

Harry felt joy for the first time in a week, and then she felt guilt run through her. Ron and Hermione were petrified because she'd focused on snowball fights and wizard's chess instead of catching the Heir. She couldn't let anything distract her from her mission - but then, having to pretend to be a boy still hurt. It was slowing her down, a constant pain in her heart that stopped her from pushing hard enough.

She knew she was justifying going to herself. Harry knew that she wanted, more than anything, to go. Ron and Hermione would be really mad at me for not going, Harry thought. They'd be mad at her for a lot of things she was doing lately.

Harry walked into the Hospital Wing that night with bags under her eyes and a heavy heart. Visitors were no longer allowed, so Madam Pomfrey was the only one in the Hospital Wing. Harry noticed that the door to her office was closed though, and the blinds were down.

"I know it hurts, Miss Potter, but I'll have your friends back up soon," Pomfrey said, as she saw Harry walk in. Being called Miss Potter felt good enough that, even now, Harry could smile. No one had ever called her that before - though Ron and Hermione used 'she' and 'her' to refer to Harry when they were alone. "Now, as to helping you. I've managed to perfect the potion I talked about - the one that would give you a female puberty. It's similar to the one you currently take, but much more effective - you will only need one dose a month. Now, you will need a dose a month until a better solution could be found and it will have some irreversible effects. I'd like you to read this list thoroughly, and tell me if you still want it afterwards," Pomfrey said.

"Okay, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, and started to read the list. She immediately began to blush - some of the effects were not the sort of thing she wanted to read about with a matronly adult watching her. She read the whole thing through, paused for a moment, and then nodded. "I - I would like to take it, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said.

"I thought you would, but best to sure for something like this. A dose will be waiting for you at the usual time. Now, I should caution you that this potion will only work at the speed of normal puberty, so it will take some time for you to feel any effects. That's also why I wanted to address another way to help you, if you feel up to it," Pomfrey said.

"Um, what way would that be?" Harry asked.

"Well, you're going to have to at some point, but I'd like you to consider starting to wear the girl's uniform, perhaps more feminine casual clothes, and move to the girl's dorms," Pomfrey said. Harry felt a surge of contrasting emotions rush through her - shame, fear, joy.

"W-would that be allowed?" Harry asked.

"It would, but you'd need to speak to your Head of House and the Headmaster. Do you feel ready for that?" Pomfrey asked, her usual brusque bedside manner gone. Her voice was gentle, but not condescending. Harry didn't feel talked down to by the medi-witch, just comforted.

"If - if I can start doing that, then yeah," Harry said, gathering her courage. It was hard to be brave all the time, to not give in to fear of the Heir. She was getting tired, but she had to press on. She couldn't back down now. Pomfrey nodded and opened the door to her office. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were sitting on comfy armchairs inside. Two more sat empty.

"Do come in and join us, Miss Potter. Would you care for some tea? Hot chocolate, maybe?" Dumbledore asked. Harry felt a little shocked at Dumbledore's expression of only mild surprise. She'd have thought for sure he'd have either been shocked or have already known.

"Um, tea please," Harry said, and sat down in one of the armchairs. Dumbledore snapped his fingers, and a mug of tea appeared on a small table next to her chair.

"Now Mr - Miss Potter, you do prefer Miss?" McGonagall asked, and Harry nodded. "Miss Potter, Madam Pomfrey has told me about your condition without mentioning your name. She has asked me to allow you to move to the girl's dormitories and to wear a more appropriate uniform. She's also told me the stairs let you up,"

"Um, yes Professor," Harry said, feeling a little sheepish.

"Well, far be it from to disagree with the magic of Hogwarts. Still, you are ready for others to not be so understanding?" McGonagall asked.

"Half the school's just stopped believing I'm the Heir of Slytherin. I can deal with them, Professor," Harry said.

"Well, I must admit I wasn't expecting to see you here, Miss Potter. No, I don't think any of us can doubt your courage. I assume you don't have said uniform or clothes?" McGonagall asked.

"Hermione let me borrow one of her old ones, but I don't have enough to wear every day," Harry said. McGonagall nodded, waved her wand, and a tape measure flew out of the end and began to measure Harry.

"I'll have some Owl Ordered and ready for you there, then. One of your roommates should have an Owl Order catalogue for more casual clothes,"

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said, and she meant it. She was smiling now, really smiling, for the first time in a week. She knew she'd still hurt whenever she went to speak to Ron in class and he wasn't there, or when she expected to sit across from Hermione in the Great Hall and found an unfamiliar face there. Ron and Hermione would be back by term's end, though, and Harry promised herself that the Heir would be dead by then too.

"I believe that is mine and Poppy's roles concluded. We should have things ready for you to move in tomorrow afternoon, Miss Potter. Do take care of yourself, though. Ronald and Hermione would hardly want you to get hurt alongside them," McGonagall said, as she and Pomfrey left. They closed the door behind themselves, and Harry wondered what Dumbledore wanted to talk to her about.

"I'm afraid most of our conversation tonight won't be so pleasant, Miss Potter. If I may ask, do you still go by Harry?" Dumbledore said, and Harry gulped.

"F-for now, Professor," Harry said.

"Very well, Harry. There are two things I must discuss with you, and I have limited time in which to do so. We shall start with the least serious, that being your nightly excursions to the restricted section," Dumbledore said, and Harry felt dread. How - she'd been wearing her invisibility cloak the entire time! "The knowledge there is kept secure for a reason, and unlike previous headmasters, I have made certain even students most talented at subterfuge like yourself cannot simply wander in. Also, my dear, the House Elves have been complaining about you smashing up their spare furniture,"

"I'm sorry about the furniture, Professor," Harry said, sure she was going to be expelled. Panic gripped her at that thought - would she lose her potions?

"I understand why you wish to hurt the Heir of Slytherin, Harry. Wanting to stop him, hurt him even, is understandable. Some of the books you have read... do concern me greatly. I was relieved, then, to see what spells you chose to practice. You have not turned to the dark arts - not truly. I wish I could shield you from this - give you a normal childhood. But to ignore what has happened these last two years would be folly. If you swear to me that you will cast no spell that requires you to hate, I will happen to leave that pass to the restricted section you see on the desk behind," Dumbledore said, and Harry blinked. That... that was not what she'd been expecting. Some of the spells she'd read about fit Dumbledore's description, and she'd only tried a few of the lesser ones. She'd mostly failed to cast them, but some of them had worked.

"I swear, Professor," Harry said, looking Dumbledore straight in the eye.

"Then please, listen to an old man's advice. I had hoped to spare your generation from this, from the horrors of bloodshed. I have killed men, Harry. Men with hopes, with dreams, and ones they loved. With mothers who cried over their broken bodies, and children who cried for fathers they never met. Most of them were men who fought for a cause as evil as Voldemort's, and yet I had wished they had not died. I wished I had not killed them" Dumbledore said, and Harry avoided his gaze. What could she say, she thought. He was right - and yet she still felt the rage inside her, the desire to see the Heir suffer and die.

"I - I'll think about it, sir," Harry said.

"That is all I ask, Harry. You have a better heart than most, and better judgement than I had at your age. That brings us, then, to the second topic I must discuss with you. One I must begin with an apology - I have failed you, Harry. I did not watch the Dursleys closely enough. I thought they were merely cold to you, but both Miss Hermione Granger and Mr Ronald Weasly sent me letters before they were petrified quite rightly calling me out for allowing you to continue staying there. Did Vernon or Petunia ever hit you?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry felt shame at the mention of the Dursleys. She wanted to be angry with Hermione for interfering, but all she could feel was hope that she might not have to go back.

"Not my Aunt and Uncle. They let Dudley beat me up, though," Harry said.

"I see. And is it true that you had to be rescued by the Weasley boys after your relatives tried to imprison you in your room?" Dumbledore asked, his voice kind. As he spoke, though, Harry's mug rattled.

"Yes, Professor. Does this means I don't have to go back?" Harry asked, looking quite intently at the floor.

"If you were any other child, if Lilly's sacrifice had not saved your life several times over... but no longer shall I allow you to be there alone. And I will be having words with your Aunt and Uncle," Dumbledore said, his voice calm and yet somehow more threatening than the loudest yell. Harry felt herself smile as she imagined that conversation.

"How long do I have to stay there?" Harry asked.

"Only until the sunrise on your birthday. That will maintain your mother's protection. After that, I'm sure Molly Weasley or others will be able to see you have a far more pleasant summer holiday... but I will not force you to go back. I will provide you secure lodging with a trusted guardian if you do not wish to go back," Dumbledore said.

"I won't have my mother's protection without going back?" Harry asked.

"You would not," Dumbledore said, seriously.

"Then I'll go back. Thank you for giving me the choice, Professor." Harry said.

"I learnt the folly, and indeed the evil, of trying to force others to act for the greater good a long time ago, Harry. Sometimes we need reminders of even hard earnt lessons," Dumbledore said, and there was a knocking at the door. It was three orderly wraps with something metal. "Do come in, Lucius," Dumbledore said. Harry turned around in surprise as she saw Lucius Malfoy walk through the open door.

"What a... pleasant surprise, Potter," Lucius Malfoy said, as he took a small sealed letter from his coat pocket. "Well, I shall get straight to the point - this is an Order of Suspension, Dumbledore. After an attack on a member of the Sacred Twenty Eight, well, all twelve of us thought that it was clear you could no longer ensure the safety of this school," Malfoy said, trying and failing not to grin.

"If the Board of Governors truly wish for my removal, then I shall certainly comply. However, you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry directly. She nodded in understanding.

"How touching. I shall walk you to your carriage, Dumbledore," Malfoy said. Harry gave him a very rude gesture when he turned his back, pocketed the pass to the restricted section, and left the Hospital Wing. For the first time in a week, she fell asleep at a reasonable time. She woke to find the school abuz with rumour. Her heart dropped as she heard that not only had Dumbledore been sacked - Hagrid had been arrested!

The next afternoon, Harry got dressed in the uniform Hermione lent her and walked up the stairs to the girl's dormitories. She felt nervous, but not afraid. She found Lavander Brown, Parvati Patil, and Lilly Moon all looking curiously at the new bed and furniture in their room.

"McGonagall was a little vague. Do you know - Harry!?" Lavender shouted.

"H-how did you get up here?" Lily asked.

"Why are you wearing a girl's uniform?" Parvati asked.

"B-because I am a girl," Harry said, flushing but not looking away.

"What do you mean?" Lavender asked, perplexed.

"Even though I, um, was born with a boy's body it was wrong for me. It felt like - it was awful," Harry said.

"And the stairs let you up?" Parvati asked.

"Yeah. I've been, um talking to Madam Pomfrey about it for a while. She made a potion that made sure I wouldn't - so that I wouldn't grow up any more like a boy. Now she's made me one that means I'll grow up as a girl," Harry said, feeling like she was about to die of embarrassment.

"Even..." Lily began to ask. Harry nodded, flushing bright red.

"So you can see why I moved here," Harry said.

"Is that why you've been growing your hair longer?" Parvati asked. Harry hadn't had her hair cut in a while - it was down to her collar, now.

"Yeah," Harry said, a little self consciously. She hated how boyish she looked, even in these clothes, but comparing herself to Lavender and Parvati was even worse.

"Will you let us do your hair? Oh, will you try some of our makeup?!" Lavender asked, and Harry blinked.

"Yes?" Harry said, and found her eyes opened to something very new to her.

A/N: Not everyone will be as accepting as Harry's new roommates.

 

[Tekomandor]

Chapter Eight

TW: Transphobia, use of slurs.

Harry's happiness at her new roommate's acceptance was only able to dispel her sadness at the petrification of her friends for a short while. She was able to Owl Order some new clothes with their help and even bought a little bit of makeup. She wasn't sure she wanted to wear it very often, but it was fun to try out.
The rest of Gryffindor tower was fairly understanding, or at least they only laughed at her behind her back. People in her own house mostly seemed to feel sorry for her. The Slytherins, on the other hand, called her all sorts of foul things whenever a teacher was out of earshot.

"Always knew you were mad, Potter, but I didn't pick you for a perv!" Draco shouted mockingly across a hallway. Pansy Parkison and her group of sycophants giggled. Harry would usually have just said something back, or perhaps given Malfoy a rude gesture and walked away, but she was short-tempered and irritable after all her late nights.

"Why don't you come out from behind your bodyguards and say that again, Malfoy. Or are you too afraid that when I take your wand this time, I won't give it back?" Harry said, snarling. She had her wand out and blinked as Draco grinned.

"Detention, Mr - my apologies, Miss Potter," Snape said, very purposefully using the wrong title. Harry knew for a fact he'd been told how to refer to her by Professor McGonagall. She hadn't heard him approach, and she relaxed her grip on her wand as he walked into view.

Draco laughed, but it was tinged with nervousness as Harry walked away. She had quite a few more interactions like that as the news spread throughout the school, but most of the school were confused rather than anything else. Rita Skeeter published an article calling her 'confused and hurting, but not dangerous', which Harry thought was probably an improvement. At least nobody thought she was the Heir of Slytherin anymore.

As she was walking back from Snape's detention on Saturday night - he had kept her scrubbing cauldrons long after the new curfew - Harry heard someone crying from the direction of the astronomy tower. Confused at who'd be out here this late, Harry pulled out her wand and cautiously made her way over to see Ginny Weasley sitting by the staircase up to the tower, crying.

"G-Ginny? What are you doing out here so late?" Harry asked.

"Go awa- Harry?" she squeaked. Ginny had clearly been crying for quite some time, and she looked about as awful as Harry.

"What's wrong, Ginny? Is it about Ron?" Harry asked quietly, sitting down next to her. All the Weasleys had dealt with Ron being petrified in their own ways. The Twins had been humourless for almost a week before they returned with even bigger smiles, and managed to get several toilet seats near Ron's bed in the hospital wing. Percy had become even stricter, whilst Ginny had become quieter. Not that she hadn't already been quiet.
""S-sort of. I don't... I don't want to talk about it," Ginny said, not looking at Harry.

"If you change your mind, you know you can talk to me, yeah? Anyway, we better get going - it's not safe to be out late at night these days," Harry said, getting up and holding out a hand to Ginny, who looked confused for a moment. Then she took Harry's hand and hugged her. Not really sure of what to make of that, the two of them walked back to Gryffindor tower in silence.

The next morning, as Harry got dressed for class, she found something odd in the pocket of her robes. It was a slip of parchment that read 'It's in Myrtle's Bathroom'. Harry thought for a moment that it was something Hermione had written back when they were making the polyjuice potion, but the handwriting was all wrong and the parchment too intact. Had Ginny put it in there, she wondered. Harry resolved to find the first-year girl and ask.

She couldn't find her in the tower, and so Harry thought she'd try and find her during breakfast. First, Harry decided, she'd pay Ron and Hermione a visit. It wasn't technically allowed, but Harry took her cloak everywhere with her these days. She brooded in the hospital wing for a little bit, but when she got up to go to breakfast she saw something odd. Hermione had a ripped out page from a book scrunched up in her hand, and Harry had failed to notice it before. For Hermione to defile a book it had to be important, Harry thought. She took out the page and read.

"Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it."

Hermione had written and underlined one word on the torn out page - 'pipes'. The pieces suddenly began to fit together for Harry, and the bit of parchment Ginny had slipped into her robes began to make a sick sort of sense. A girl had died the last time the chamber had been opened. Moaning Myrtle wore clothing from the right era and glasses. Surely, Harry thought, whoever was doing the petrifying had to not be killing the students on purpose at this point - maybe Myrtle had stumbled over Riddle and his Basilisk and died for it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a booming voice, broadcast all over the castle via a spell Harry didn't know.

"All students to their Common Rooms at once. All teachers to the staffroom immediately. Prefects, conduct headcounts," McGonagall's voice said, loud enough to shake Harry's bones. She, of course, did not head to her common room - instead, she put on her cloak and sneaked the short distance to the staffroom. Luck had placed Harry much closer to the staffroom than any of the teachers, and so she was able to hide in a closet before any of them arrived.

Harry listened with growing horror as the teachers talked about a student taken into the chamber, the closure of the school, the fact that Ginny's skeleton would 'Lie in the Chamber Forever'. Then the staff seemed to turn as one to Lockhart.

"Well, Gilderoy, until the Ministry get here you are charged with defending this castle. Weren't you saying just last week that you were sure you had located the chamber?" McGonagall said.

"Well, I-"

"And you told me last week you were sure of what was inside!" Flitwick said.

"If I might-"

"Weren't you complaining about not getting a crack at the monster after Hagrid was arrested?" Snape said.

"I really -"

"Well, Gilderoy - you have your chance. The Aurors should be here by tonight, so I imagine you'll want to get cracking," McGonagall said.

"Very - very well. I'll just, ah, pop off to my office to prepare," Lockhart said.

"Well, that got him out of our way. Director Bones said they could have enough teams of hit-wizards here to scour the castle by tonight, so we will keep the students in their dorms..." McGonagall began, and Harry had an idea. If she wanted to find the Heir, she'd need to do it before the Ministry - and she'd probably need some kind of distraction to sneak up on him. Lockhart would do nicely for that, she thought.

Harry snuck out of the staffroom after the meeting, took off her cloak, and hurried to Lockhart's office. She knocked but there was no response, so she simply unlocked the door with a spell and opened it herself.

"Hello, Professor. Going somewhere?" She asked as she saw Lockhart's things thrown all over the office and a large suitcase open on the floor.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Now, lad, why don't you go back to your-" Lockhart began, but Harry wasn't going to let Lockhart speak to her like that.

"I'm not a boy, Professor," Harry said, calmly. She did, however, have her wand on Lockhart.

"I really don't have time to indulge you. Urgent call, got to go you see," Lockhart said, packing as fast as he can.

"Abandoning your post, Professor? I always knew you were an idiot, but not that you were a coward and a fraud," Harry said.

"Well, nobody would have bought my books if they didn't think I'd done everything in them!" Lockhart said, taking something out of his trunk.

"So you just made it all up - and no one noticed?" Harry asked.

"Oh, the monsters were real. I may have jazzed the stories up a bit, but they're based on the truth. Of course, I had to remove the memories of the real heroes - all completely unmarketable! No dress sense at all - much like the annoying little faggot in a skirt standing before me," Lockhart said.

"You - you've been erasing people's memories to sell books!?" Harry shouted, indignant.

"Guilty as charged, dear boy. Which means - OBLIVATE!" Lockhart shouted as he turned around. Harry had seen it coming, however, and all her practice paid off as she moved faster than her middle-aged teacher.

"Protego!" Harry said and the beam of blue light that shot out of Lockhart's wand was deflected off of a shimmering shield. It hit the window and shattered it into a thousand pieces.

"Ah. Well, you're obviously a talented kid Harry but I did get an E on my DADA N.E.W.T so-" Lockhart said.

"Stupefy," Harry said, but Lockhart was surprisingly fast with his shielding charm. Harry had to sidestep her own spell as it was deflected, but she didn't let up. "Confringo!" Harry shouted, the powerful blasting curse causing Lockhart's shield to crack ominously, but not quite break.

"What the devil have you been- argh!" Lockhart shouted as Harry threw another curse at him.

"Expluso!" she yelled, and the bright blue bolt of magic slammed straight through Lockhart's shield charm and sent him flying into the wall of his office. He hit it with a nasty crack, but he tried to get back up and so Harry simply stunned him. The jet of red light knocked Lockhart unconscious, and Harry performed a simple charm to bind him in ropes. She pocketed his wand, left a note for anyone who found him and headed off towards Myrtle's bathroom.

"Who knew he could actually duel," Harry said. She was a little worried that Lockhart had proved so formidable, even though he was a total fop. She really would need to catch the Heir unaware, if he was much older than her.

"Oh, it's good to see you, Harry. Your hair looks nice," Myrtle said as Harry entered the bathroom.

"Thank you, Myrtle. I need to ask you something urgent, about how you died," Harry said. She blushed a little at Myrtle's compliment.

"About how I died? It was dreadful, you know. Happened right here in this toilet,"

"Did you see anything, anyone?" Harry asked, looking around urgently.

"I heard a boy talking - that's why I left my stall. But all I saw was a pair of eyes, right over there," Myrtle said, and Harry followed her pointing finger. Myrtle was pointing towards one of the sinks.

Harry looked over it thoroughly and was about to ask Myrtle if she was sure when Harry saw something on the side of one of the taps - a small snake, carved right into the copper.

"Oh, that tap's never worked right..." Myrtle said, but Harry didn't hear it. The snake seemed to be moving, almost, and Harry felt herself moved by something more than instinct but below conscious thought.

"Open," she commanded, and the tap glowed with white light. Sinks and stone began to move, revealing a pipe large enough for even a fully grown man to fit in. Harry had found the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

 

[Tekomandor]

Chapter Nine

Harry leapt down without hesitation, sliding down the entrance to the chamber. It winded and looped, its slope gentle and robbing her of most of her speed as it exited into a dank cave. Water dripped from the ceiling onto a bed of rodent bones, and Harry took out her wand and shrugged on her cloak. The cave had clearly been shaped by magic, the rough natural stone becoming smooth and circular.

Harry advanced cautiously, not daring to light her wand. She crept along in the darkness, flinching at every crunch of bone her shoes made on the floor. Then she saw it, lurking in the darkness. For a moment she thought she was dead, but then her nearly-exploding heart relaxed - the shape in the murky blackness was merely a snakeskin, not the basilisk. Still, Harry thought, it was huge. She'd never heard of a snake this big, not even in the magical world.

She sincerely hoped that her parseltounge would work on Slytherin's monster because she had no other ideas as to how to fight a sixty-foot snake. Maybe if she could hit it in a vulnerable area with a powerful curse - a blasting curse to the eye, or the mouth... but she'd never hit small targets like that if she couldn't look at the snake.

Harry walked for quite some time, her heart thumping her chest as she held herself ready to strike at any moment. The long stone tunnel ended in a curved wall of stone, seemingly carved into an entire wall of stone snakes. Emeralds glittered in their eyes, giving off an alien green light. Harry felt that same more-than-instinct that she had in Myrtle's bathroom, and she knew instinctively that the Heir was beyond this barrier.

"Part" she commanded, and a number of the stone snakes slithered out of the way. Enough of them moved to make her a small doorway into the chamber beyond, and Harry walked through slowly.

This chamber was huge and built from great blocks of black stone. A long central pathway was flanked on either side by water and a series of statues. Eerie green flames burnt in torch brackets without fuel, casting the entire chamber into a flickering half-light. Harry barely dared to breathe as she walked down the central pathway, towards a semicircular stone area and what had to be a statue of Salazar himself.

Lying there, unconscious but alive, was Ginny Weasley. She clutched Riddle's diary lightly with one hand, and seemed even more pale and sickly than when Harry had last seen her. Standing next to Ginny, holding a wand and facing away from Harry, was an unfamiliar boy. She thought he had black hair but in the light of the green fires, it was hard to tell colours apart.

Harry advanced like a wraith, hidden from view by her cloak. She levelled her wand, coming to within perhaps twenty feet of the boy. He had to be the Heir, Harry thought. The one who had hurt Ron and Hermione, who had kidnapped Ginny. Harry's wand was the level of his neck, and the words for a cutting charm were on her lips, but she paused. This was not killing in battle, nor would it be a necessary death. It could only be described as murder.

If Harry uttered the spell she wanted to, she would murder this boy in cold blood. She had thought about it, late at night when she was venting her anger into cutting charms and exploding curses. She had imagined each desk and cushion bore the face of the Heir. If she did this, took a life in cold blood for no reason other than revenge, she would be a murderer. Her hands would be stained, and she thought back to Dumbledore's words.

Harry lowered her wand to point at the Heir's back and thrust it forward.

"Stupefy!" She shouted, and a jet of red light shot forward from her wand. It impacted the Heir's back and... and kept going, splashing harmlessly against the statue beyond.

"How disappointing. You think to surprise me, and with all the curses you know you choose a stunning charm? Typical Gryffindor weakness," the Heir said, and Harry thought his voice sounded familiar. She'd heard it before, but he wasn't a student. Or, Harry thought as she made the connection, he wasn't a student at her Hogwarts.

Tom Riddle turned around, holding Ginny's wand in his hands.

"H-how?" Harry asked, shocked to her core. Tom Riddle had been a student here over fifty years ago, and yet he looked just as he had in the diary.

"I told you. A memory, preserved in a diary. Something more durable than parchment and ink,"

"You're a memory? A memory's been the heir all this time?" Harry asked, confused.

"Oh, I haven't been strong enough to manifest like this before. I had to work through someone who had poured enough of themselves into me. A foolish little girl, with foolish concerns. She whined endlessly to me, you know. Whined that 'famous Harry Potter' would never like her, whined about her homework, her teachers. But I was patient. I was her wise friend, her mentor. I helped her with her classes, with her stupid little friends. And so, I was able to grow strong enough to influence her," Riddle said.

"You used Ginny to do all of it - all the attacks," Harry said.

"She fought me, of course. First she tried to throw me away, but then she saw me again and my hold over her was too strong. Then, well, I had harmed her brother. The little bitch tried to throw herself off the astronomy tower after that," Riddle said, and Harry gaped. Was - was that what Ginny had just tried to do when harry saw her. When Ginny, Harry realised, passed her the note.

"But if you've been able to control her for so long, why were there so few attacks?" Harry asked, confused.

"Because I no longer care to rid the school of mudbloods. I had far more interesting prey to hunt - a little cross-dressing freak who somehow defeated the great Lord Voldemort. I tried to influence you, of course, but you saw through me nearly as quickly as Dumbledore did," Riddle said.

"Trying to frame Hagrid was a bad idea, Tom. You didn't even get the right kind of monster. Why do you care if I defeated Voldemort, anyway? That was decades after your time," Harry said.

"You haven't figured it out yet, Potter? Perhaps a demonstration is in order," Riddle said, and waved his wand. Flaming letters spelled out his name, and as they began to move Harry understood. She stumbled backwards, and fear gripped her heart. The letters settled, and spelled out the truth - 'I am Lord Voldemort'. "You see, Potter? Lord Voldemort is my past, my present, and my future! Now, I believe you planned to duel me? Show me your power, boy who lived!" Riddle roared and sent a bolt of black lightning crackling towards her.

Harry dived out of the way, and sent all the most powerful curses she knew back at Riddle. Gouts of flame passed through him, pulses of blue light exploded parts of the statue behind him, cutting beams of light sliced into it - none of them harmed Riddle.

"It seems you do know something of magic, boy. But not enough to best me, not nearly enough!" Riddle said, and Harry dodged another lazily fired curse. Riddle was playing with her, she knew.

"I sent the real you running last year. I'll beat you too!" Harry shouted though she didn't really believe it. None of her spells had done so much as ruffle a hair on Riddle's head.

"I think it is time you learnt the power of the greatest sorcerer alive - CRUCIO!" Riddle snarled, and Harry felt pain. She screamed and dropped to her knees, unable to stand as every nerve in her body burned. She fell forward, and couldn't so much as lift her face to look at Riddle. She could remember nothing, imagine nothing but pain unending. Tears streamed down her face, cutting tracks through the grime. Then, as quickly as it had come, it was over. She tried to stand, but only managed to look up at Riddle.

"Do you understand now, freak? You are a child playing with curses he found in a library, and I am the greatest wizard in the world!" Riddle said as Harry fought through the tears.

"Y-you're not," Harry rasped, her throat burning.

"What?" Riddle said.

"You're not the greatest wizard in the world. Even you know that's Albus Dumbledore. You were scared of him as Tom Riddle, you were scared of him as Voldemort, and you're scared of him now," Harry said through gritted teeth, rising shakily to her feet. Every joint, every muscle in her body ached. She could barely stand, let alone fight. But Ginny Weasley, who had a silly crush on her and dropped butter dishes and never stopped fighting Riddle was still there. She was still breathing, and Harry had to save her.

A beautiful, wondrous song filled Harry's ears, a song she'd heard once before. In a burst of fire, Fawkes appeared high above them, and Harry felt her pain vanish. Her pain, her weariness, they were all gone. Ginny Weasly moved like she was struggling against invisible chains, and Tom Riddle looked away from Harry.

"What-" Riddle began, but Harry had her wand up and cast before he could decide what to focus on.

"Expeliarmus!" Harry shouted, and grinned as she plucked Ginny's wand out of the air. "Not so all-powerful after all, Tom," she said. Riddle's cold, composed snarl vanished in an explosion of white-hot rage. Fawkes landed next to Harry, dropping a very familiar hat onto the ground.

"You - you may have taken the girl's wand, boy, but I have a greater weapon. Let us see how that bird and hat measure up against the power of Lord Voldemort, of Salazar Slytherin!" Riddle said, as he turned away from Harry. She scrambled backwards, knowing what he was going to do. She even knew the words he was going to say, the magic of the place whispering them to her. "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!" Riddle said in parseltounge, then the mouth of the statue at the end of the chamber opened.

Harry sent a blasting curse at the opening, closed her eyes, and began to run. Fawkes swooped in towards the Basilisk, his song like a raging inferno. Harry ran, and she risked a look over her shoulder. She wanted to yell in triumph as she saw Fawkes had reduced the eyes of Slytherin's monsters to a red ruin.

"Leave the bird, kill the boy! You can still smell him!" Riddle hissed, and Harry sent blasting curses towards the snake's head. It reared back in pain, temporarily deafened, and Harry darted into a side tunnel. Maybe if she put her cloak back on, she thought as she ran, she could somehow sneak Ginny out of here.

Harry rushed through the side tunnels, and she could hear the Basilisk behind her. It would not be fooled by her father's cloak, she knew. She tried to hiss commands to it, but it would not listen - it would listen only to Riddle.

She burst out into the main chamber again, and only barely dodged the snake's titanic tail. It sent the sorting hat flying, and Harry heard a bizarre sound as it landed - the sound of metal on stone. Fawkes had brought it for a reason, and Harry trusted the phoenix whose feather powered her wand. She charged across the chamber, rolling out of the way of a clumsy bite by the Basilisk, and reached into the hat.

Harry gripped the metallic hilt within with both hands and pulled a gleaming silver sword adorned with red rubies free. It was far too large for a twelve-year-old girl, but it sang like Fawke's song, and Harry knew it would be enough. The snake lunged at her again, and as she stepped to the side Harry sliced a long gash into its neck. Bright green blood spurted from the wound, and Riddle's eyes widened.
The Basilisk roared once more, came in for a bite from above. Harry thrust the sword upwards, and the goblin-forged silver blade cut effortlessly into the brain of the titanic snake. Harry felt something graze her as she roared in triumph, felt the poison enter her.

In only a matter of minutes, she was going to die.

"And so ends the great Harry Potter. Brave, but foolish," Riddle gloated. Harry ignored him. If she only had minutes left, she was going to make them count. She said silent apologies to Ron and Hermione that she wouldn't be there when they woke up, and staggered forwards.

"Thank you for everything, Fawkes. Tell Dumbledore... tell Dumbledore he was right," Harry said, as she advanced towards Ginny and the diary. She had to stop this Riddle from escaping, from unleashing a second Voldemort on the world. She'd been an idiot to try and curse the projection, she knew. The real Riddle was still by Ginny's side.

"What are you doing Potter?" Riddle asked, confused.

Harry had to lean on the sword now. Not even Fawke's mournful song could banish the pain wracking her body, and she could barely crawl by the time she reached Ginny.

"T-thank you, Ginny. I couldn't have beaten him without you," Harry said, through her tears. She raised the sword up high, and at last, Riddle understood what Harry planned to do.

"Potter, don't!" Riddle screamed, afraid. Harry brought the sword down and thrust the gleaming blade right into the Diary. Riddle screamed in pain, blood spurting from his chest as surely as if Harry had stabbed him - because of course, she had. She hacked at the diary again and again, until Riddle dissolved into light.

The sword fell from her hands, and Harry fell to the damp floor of the chamber. She had no strength left, no clever plan to save herself. As the darkness closed in, she saw Ginny's eyes open. Harry smiled and closed her eyes.

Death, she thought, felt very much like that same chamber floor. Harry opened her eyes, and she saw tears flowing from Fawkes' eyes onto her wound. Ginny was leaning over her, and as Harry's eyes opened she spoke.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, fearful.

"It's over, Ginny. Riddle's gone," Harry said, and Ginny hugged her.

 

[Tekomandor]

Chapter Ten

"He's really gone?" Ginny asked as the two of them sat on the floor of the chamber. They were leaning against one of the sloping walls, too tired to stand.

"The Riddle that was in the diary's gone. Riddle himself is still out there," Harry said.

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"Tom Riddle is Voldemort's real name," Harry said, and Ginny's eyes widened.

"I-I'm sorry about everything, Harry. I tried to stop him, but if it wasn't for Fawkes-" Ginny began, only for Harry to interrupt her.

"I couldn't have beaten him without you, Ginny. You were the one who told me where the entrance was, and you fighting him when Fawkes turned up let me disarm him," Harry said, smiling at Ginny. She blushed a deeper scarlet than her hair.

"I - I tried to throw myself off the astronomy tower," Ginny said, not looking at Harry.

"I'm glad you didn't," Harry said, holding Ginny's trembling hand. "Do you know the way out, by chance?" Harry asked. Ginny shook her head. Fawkes trilled happily, and they both got up and started to follow him. Harry put her dad's cloak into the pocket of her robes, handed Ginny the sorting hat, and held the sword in one hand.

Ginny needed help to make the long walk back to the entrance, but Harry held her hand the entire way there and that helped. Harry didn't really know how to help Ginny, but she was determined to try.

"Where did you find the diary anyway, Ginny?" Harry asked.

"I found it in my cauldron after Flourish and Blotts. I guess I thought Mum had bought it for me or something," Ginny said. Harry's eyes narrowed. Lucius Malfoy had known quite a bit about the Heir, given what he'd told Draco. Maybe he'd slipped the diary to Ginny during the confrontation in the bookstore.

They soon reached the entrance, and Harry looked in vain for some stairs or any other way to get up. Fawkes, however, winged up into the air and held out one slender leg each to Harry and Ginny. Cautiously, they grabbed on and were surprised when Fawkes lifted them up through the pipe without so much as a single sign of strain.

They emerged into Myrtle's bathroom, and Fawkes promptly hopped onto Harry's shoulder. Harry tried to brush some of the dirt and grime off herself but gave up after a little while.

"Oh, you're still alive? Did you get the Heir?" Myrtle asked, surprised.

"He won't be a problem anymore, Myrtle," She smiled, and Harry led Ginny out of the bathroom. What awaited them on the grand staircase, however, was not what Harry had been expecting. A crowd of adult wizards with flashing cameras and notepads was following another smaller group, composed of a portly man in fine robes and three tough-looking wizards in leather coats, up the stairs.

"Minister, will you ask the Governors to- by Merlin, that's Harry Potter!" One of the journalists shouted, and every member of both groups turned at once to face Harry and Ginny.

"Look, he's got the girl with him!"

"She's alive!"

"Why does she have a sword!?

Harry froze. The journalists surged forward, cameras flashing, now totally ignoring the other wizards.

"How did you save her, Miss Potter?"

"Who was the Heir? What was the monster?"

Harry blinked at the flashing light and thought. She couldn't say anything about Ginny being possessed by the diary - that wouldn't be fair to her. There were some things she thought people deserved to know, though. She could clear Hagrid's name, for one, and tell the entire Wizarding World about a little secret she'd learnt from the diary.

"I need to get Ginny to the hospital wing, so I'm just gonna say what happened quickly. Um, owl me if you have more questions, okay?" Harry said, and at once the flood of shouted questions stopped. The journalists (who Harry could now see were quite the diverse bunch) seemed to be waiting eagerly for her words.

"The Heir of Slytherin was the same person who opened the Chamber fifty years ago - Tom Riddle. He enchanted a diary to contain a... a sort of living memory that could manifest and control people. Someone slipped the diary into Hogwarts after holding onto it for a very long time, because it was made right after the original opening," Harry said.

"But - but who is Tom Riddle?" a French reporter asked, confused.

"Tom Riddle was a half-blood orphan who attended Hogwarts fifty years ago. By all accounts, he really was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. But I think you know him by another name," Harry said, and without really thinking about it she did the same trick Riddle had done down in the chamber. She conjured 'Tom Marvolo Riddle', and rearranged the letters to 'I am Lord Voldemort'.
A dozen different questions were shouted at her, and she could see the portly man and his bodyguards trying to push through to reach her and Ginny.

"I duelled the manifestation down in the Chamber and was able to get the wand he was using away from him with the help of Ginny and Fawkes. Then he summoned Slytherin's monster, a sixty-foot long Basilisk. I knew what it was because I had just discovered what my friends Ron Weasly and Hermione Granger were looking for when they were petrified," Harry began.

"Why didn't you go to a teacher, Miss Potter?"

"I did. I went to tell Gilderoy Lockhart what I'd learnt, but I discovered that he was planning to flee the castle! We argued, and he admitted to taking credit for the good deeds of others in his books and using memory charms on the real heroes! He tried to wipe my memory, but luckily I'm not bad at shield charms and he ended up stunned and tied up in his office. He should still be there," Harry said, grinning. Take that you bigoted creep, she thought. One of the leather coat wearing wizards broke off and started running towards Lockhart's office.

"But how did you kill the monster, and where did you get the sword?"

"Fawkes arrived at a pivotal moment and was carrying the Sorting Hat. He clawed out the basilisk's eyes, and I guess the sorting hat does more than sort students. I found the sword inside," Harry said, showing the reporters the name inscribed on the blade, and continued. "Anyway, in the end I was able to kill the basilisk and destroy the diary, which put an end to the manifestation of Riddle," Harry said, and then the portly man reached her.

"Well, as you can see folks the boy - my apologies Harry, - the Girl Who Lived has saved Miss Weasley here and ended the threat once and for all. I've been told by the school nurse that the petrified students are waking up once more as we speak. I for one think it's high time we honoured our heroine, and the Ministry will be announcing something along those lines soon. Our elite Aurors will have Lockhart in custody soon, and I'm sure we'll have the truth for you soon," the portly man said.

"Minister Fudge, what-" one of the journalists began to say in a thick German accent, but fell silent as they all started to look at someone coming down the stairs. Professor Dumbledore was back, purple robes and twinkling eyes looking just as Harry had last seen them.

"Esteemed members of the magical press, Minister. I think Miss Potter and Miss Weasley here are long overdue to be looked at by our school nurse, and would in any case surely like to see their friends and family waiting there," Dumbledore said, and gently guided Harry and Ginny down the stairs towards the Hospital Wing.

"Ginny!" Mrs Weasley screamed, running out of the Hospital Wing to hug her daughter fiercely. Mr Weasley followed, and though he wasn't quite as loud he was crying happily as he hugged her.
"How - what happened?" Mrs Weasley asked, still hugging Ginny.

"I think it best we do the explanations inside, Molly," Dumbledore said. They all walked into the Hospital Wing, where the rest of the Weasleys were waiting - including Ron, who was lying awake in his hospital bed. So was Hermione, and she smiled as she saw Harry walk in.

"You saved her, you saved her," Mrs Weasley said, crying as she hugged Harry. She eventually let go and led Harry to a very comfortable conjured armchair. "But how?" Mrs Weasley asked, and so Harry began to speak. She told them all about the diary, about the chamber, and about Ginny being possessed. She did none of the editing she had done for the press. She left out only a few bits of her own thoughts, like thinking about killing the Heir. When she got to her duel with Riddle, all the adults gasped in surprise.

"T-t-the cruciatus curse? How did you ever manage to fight a basilisk after that?" Mr Weasley said in horror.

Harry went on to explain what she'd said to Riddle, which made Dumbledore smile.

"You must have shown me great loyalty down in the chamber to call Fawkes to you like that, Harry. It warms my heart that we was able to aid you," Dumbledore said.

Harry then went on to explain how Ginny distracted Riddle and the rest of the fight. She looked away from them all when she described being bitten by the Basilisk. Mr and Mrs Weasley were at first aghast at Ginny, but Dumbledore managed to explain things so that they ended up praising her for helping Harry out in the end.

"A most riveting tale, Harry. You yourself are in need of some medical attention, but if you would follow me to my office for just a short while - I believe there are still a few matters we need to clear up," Dumbledore said, extending a hand to Harry. She took it, and then they vanished in a flash of fire. Harry felt very hot for just a moment, and then she found herself in Dumbledore's office holding all the objects of interest - the ruined diary, the sword, and the sorting hat. Gingerly, she laid them all down on Dumbledore's desk.

"What did you need to speak to me about, sir?" Harry asked.

"To say that I am glad to hear you took my advice, Harry. I know you must have considered a different spell when you snuck up behind Riddle," Dumbledore said gently, and Harry nodded. "I shall have to give you, and perhaps Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, quite some numbers of house points for your actions this year. Perhaps an award for special services to the school," Dumbledore said, and Harry smiled.

"Thank you, sir. Um, what will happen to Lockhart?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I imagine he will face trial and be convicted of quite some number of crimes. He will spend quite a lengthy sentence in Azkaban, and perhaps some of his victims might still be healed," Dumbledore said.

"Do... do you know why I can speak Parseltongue, professor?" Harry asked. She had felt that same odd ease when she copied RIddle's spells too, she thought.

"Because Lord Voldemort can speak it, Harry. I believe that in addition to that scar, he also gave you some of his powers when he failed to kill you that night," Dumbledore said, his voice gentle.

"Doesn't that make me dangerous, then? Evil, even?" Harry asked.

"Not at all, my dear girl. You may have some of his powers, but it is not our abilities that make us good or evil - it is our actions. You choose to risk your life for others, to consider the life of even those you hate worth preserving, and to defy evil with your last moments tonight. Voldemort would not, could not have chosen to do those things. You do remind me of him as a young boy, sometimes. You even looked similar... but what strikes me most is your differences. You have a heart that he never did, Harry. In you, I see a child who shares that same potential - but with a heart far greater than him," Dumbledore said, and Harry blushed deeply. She didn't think she was all that great.

"How are you back, anyway? I thought the Governors got rid of you?" Harry asked. Dumbledore began to answer, only to be interrupted as his door opened with extreme violence.

"You dare return to this castle, Dumbledore!?" Shouted Lucius Malfoy, a very familiar house-elf walking beside him. Dobby was looking with big, scared eyes up at Harry and pointing between Lucius and the ruined diary.

"It seems that your colleagues reconsidered their votes after a pureblood girl was kidnapped, Lucius. Several of them even told me strange tales about you threatening to curse them if they did not vote to remove me," Dumbledore said with a pleasant tone.

"And? Have you stopped the attacks?" Lucius asked, and Harry grinned. He must have tried to beat the minister here, and missed the impromptu press conference Harry had held.

"I think you might be the only wizard in Europe not to know that Miss Potter here rescued Miss Weasley, stopped the Heir, and slew the Basilisk at this point, Lucius," Dumbledore said.

"The Heir? So the boy caught them then," Lucius said.

"As a note, Lucius, I will not allow you to disrespect Miss Potter in this office again. And yes, she did catch the Heir," Dumbledore said.

"Well, have they been handed over to the Ministry, or are you going to go soft on them, Dumbledore?"

"As Lord Voldemort is currently in the forests of Albania, and the diary he used to terrorize the school most thoroughly destroyed by Miss Potter, I will be able to do neither of those things. Of course, whoever gave Miss Weasley the diary in the first place is still at large. I certainly hope none of Tom Riddle's other old school things turns up, or I may be forced to... act," Dumbledore said. His voice had not changed from the pleasant tone he'd had the entire time, but Harry shivered at the last sentence. She knew what he had meant by act, and so did Malfoy. His face went white, and so did his fist gripping his cane.

"V-very well, Dumbledore. I'll just be-" Malfoy said, but Harry interrupted him.

"You know, Ginny told me something very interesting down in the chamber. She said she first saw the diary in her cauldron at Flourish and Blotts. Someone had put it there, and I seem to remember you reaching into it," Harry said, standing up.

"You'll never prove it, brat," Malfoy said, and he turned to leave. Harry's mind raced, and she remembered something Dobby had once told her. As Malfoy closed the door, she turned to Dumbledore.

"Can I borrow that?" she said, pointing to the diary. Dumbledore nodded with a knowing smile as Harry slipped one of her now filthy socks into the pages. She ran out the door after Malfoy.

"What do you want, freak?" Malfoy said. Instead of responding, she shoved the filthy diary into his hands.

"You forgot your diary, Mr Malfoy. I'm sure your friend Mr Riddle would be upset if you lost it," Harry said, and she enjoyed the look of momentary panic that crossed his face. He threw the sock aside and then turned to face Harry.

"You'll end up like your mudblood whore of a mother one day if you don't learn your place, Potter. Come, Dobby," Malfoy said, only for Dobby to stand completely still. He was holding Harry's sock, and had the biggest grin Harry had ever seen.

"Master has given Dobby a sock... Dobby is free!" Dobby said, and Malfoy's face contorted in rage.

"You - you've stolen my servant, boy!" Malfoy shouted, and pulled his wand from his cane. Harry had hers pointed at him, and for a single mad moment, it seemed like they would start cursing each other just outside Dumbledore's office. Then, there was the sound of Dobby snapping his fingers and a wave of blue light threw Malfoy down a nearby flight of stairs.

"YOU WILL NOT HURT MISS HARRY POTTER!" Dobby shouted, and Harry smiled at him.
"Thanks, Dobby," she said, as the two of them walked slowly back to Dumbledore's office.

"A most noble thing you did, Harry. And I must give you my thanks, Dobby," Dumbledore said.

"Dobby is glad he could help, sir. But where will he go now? Not many are wanting to hire a free elf,"

"Many of the elves here at Hogwarts are free elves like yourself, Dobby. The ministry does not approve, but there is little they can do. I would be happy to hire you," Dumbledore said, smiling at the little elf.

"Dobby would be most pleased, Headmaster Dumbledore sir!" Dobby said, beaming.

"And I shall have a very special task for you this summer. Harry must stay for a number of weeks with her guardians, and I do not trust them as I once did. Would you watch over her there, Dobby?" Dumbledore asked.

"O-of course," Dobby said, crying tears of happiness. Harry couldn't help but grin at the thought - the Dursleys would hate that.

"Very well then. Now, I believe Miss Potter has a bed in the hospital wing awaiting her - if you would take her there, Dobby?" Dumbledore said, and then with a strange sucking sensation, Harry found herself in the Hospital Wing.

"You alright mate?" Ron asked.

"Not really, but I just saw Dobby throw Lucius Malfoy down a flight of stairs so I'm not doing that badly," Harry said, and sat down on the bed she appeared next to. Mr and Mrs Weasley were over on the other end of the hospital wing, fussing over Ginny.

"Now that's a sight I'd pay galleons to see," Ron said.

"I'm glad you managed to figure everything out, Harry," Hermione said. "And you look so good! Ginny told us you changed dorms and everything," Hermione continued. Harry smiled.

"Yeah. Some of the Slytherins have been assholes about it, but Pav and Lav were really nice," Harry said. She had been surprised how well she'd been accepted in the dorm itself, but Parvati and Lavender had been especially helpful.

"Sad to see you go mate, but good for you," Ron said.

"I'm still in the same tower, you prat," Harry said and threw a pillow at him. All three of them laughed.