"How much longer?" Snape demanded, almost shaking where she stood. "How many more students are we going to find petrified until you take action?"
Dumbledore sighed as she looked down at the frozen expression of Marcia Flint. It was just as before and just as before the connection to Riddle wasn't hard to find. Hell, there had been a student among those who had found the frozen witch which immediately blamed their Head of House. It appeared they had overheard an argument between the victim and the accused on New Year's Eve.
The Headmistress had no doubt this would be corroborated by several before the end of the day.
Still, the question remained, why.
Why go through all the efforts of framing the professor? It wasn't as though Grace Riddle lacked rivals or those who would speak ill of her, more than a few things in her past would guarantee such relationships, but to go to such an extent.
"Dumbledore"
The insistence in her companion's voice brought her back to the present, and with a gesture the two adults departed for her office to continue their conversation in a more private setting.
"It's her."
"You know," Augustina replied as she eased down into her chair, wondering when she had become so tense and sore. "I recall a remarkably similar argument made by a certain young boy last year regarding the identity of a thief. If I recall correctly, he was wrong back then."
Serena's lip twitched into a scowl, "Was he? If I remember right the imposter never gave up their client. Perhaps Harry was right all along?"
She received an annoyed glance for the comment, followed by a shake of the elder's head.
"Then what are you going to do about this?"
This time it was a sigh, "You know there is not much I can do. With the schoolboard locked in their usual debates a decision will take weeks if not months. The best option we have of protecting the students is to catch the perpetrator in the act."
Snape hissed in anger, "So you expect us to just wait until the attacker conveniently gives us a clue? I didn't realize the Aurors were running the school now."
"And what would you do instead?"
The professor had been counting on such a question, had been ready for it. "Confront her and demand she give us the location of the Chamber and the creature. Then we evacuate the school for the afternoon and kill it once and for all."
Dumbledore, surprisingly, nodded in a very agreeing manner, "And how exactly do you plan on doing such a thing? By her own account Grace Riddle does not know the location of the Chamber of Secrets. In fact, the only one who might know is the one person I want farther away from it than anyone else. Unless of course you want to ignore the look in Harry's eyes when he told us about it."
No, no she could not do such a thing. Despite it being only a few short moments, the horror had been almost palpable in the air when he had spoken of it. Serena Snape did not know what exactly happened in the boy's own world, but it was clear he had been dragged along for the defeat of the creature. It made sense, naturally, if only a Parselmouth could gain access and he was the only known living carrier of the trait.
Still, what their other selves had been thinking was beyond the woman.
"Of course not."
The Headmistress pressed her gaze, "Then we appear to be in the same situation as before. We have no way of stopping the attacks without evacuating the school. Even if we do such a thing what follows? Aurors sweep every hall and room only to find nothing? Pray that the Chamber is in the same location and only requires a word from Harry to gain access and nothing further? Even if that is the case, what if we are wrong? What if we go down into that damnable pit only to find the Basilisk undisturbed until we enter? What if we unleash something worse by making assumptions?"
"It all fits, you know this, I know this, the whole damn school knows this."
"What I know is we have multiple students who have reported injuries and several petrifications, this does not rule out all answers save for 'Basilisk'."
Snape's lips twitched in annoyance, it was similar to the arguments Harry had made, and memories of their recent encounters did nothing to soothe the anxiety in her mind.
****
Harry had already been on edge, the attack had only made it worse, which meant that when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him into an unused classroom, he had immediately fought back, attempting to reach his wand and hex the perpetrator so hard their ancestors felt it.
Unfortunately, the way they held him prevented him from doing so and he froze the moment her voice reached his ears. "Shhh it's okay my sweet, it's just me."
Pandora Malfoy, he promptly began struggling just a bit harder, "That's hardly comforting" he gritted out, earning a smooth laugh as she seemed to nuzzle into him.
"I can't stop thinking about last time," she continued, voice dropping down to a whisper, "The way you looked at me, the way you touched me."
He opened his mouth to reply, but words failed to form, thoughts failed to form. What was he supposed to say? 'Oh, that was an accident, I didn't mean to finger-fuck you at the party'? What if she asked about the pictures that he still had locked away in his trunk for some reason? He already knew lying to her would be a futile effort, he was simply too honest for things like that.
"It's kept me up at night," she all but moaned, "touching myself, exploring my body, all to try and remember that fleeting moment, to replicate even a fraction of the pleasure you gave me… but it's been all for naught."
Okay, that sent blood rushing towards an incredibly inappropriate place. The knowledge that Pandora Malfoy was not only masturbating while thinking of him but also that he was better than her.
Her body pushed up against his from behind, hands trailing down from where they were wrapped around him to apply pressure on his hips. "I would love to return the favor."
Harry Potter wasn't sure who to blame for all the inappropriate choices and thoughts going through his head since the holidays. When had he reached the point that he had not only had sex with the female versions of himself, almost sisters really, the witch counterpart of Tom Riddle, had fingered his stalker, and was considering just letting her do whatever she wanted with him?
It wasn't just taboo at that point, it was almost reckless. He should be revolted by her, trying to push her away, fighting back and then finding a staff member to inform. What he should not be considering was taking her hands and pushing them under his clothes so that she would touch him in all the ways she was clearly fantasizing about.
He was the 'chosen one', a Gryffindor, and a man, well teenage boy but they were splitting hairs at that point. He had been raised, albeit rather awfully, with the understanding that men were supposed to take charge and be dominant.
So why was it that every 'encounter' of the romantic kind had him being so submissive? Why was he drawn to the forbidden, rather than normal, relationships? Maybe, deep down, he was just… tired of it. Tired of the fighting, the struggling, tired of the endless bickering with Slytherins and having to play a part in what everyone expected of him.
Still, despite the 'tempting' offer he knew better than to simply trust a Malfoy and took advantage of the momentary pause to break free, putting distance between them and turning around to better confront the girl.
"A-are you behind the attacks?" Not as clever or subtle as he had hoped but the frown on her face was a pretty good indication of her answer.
"Of course not my love, I would never do anything to upset or hurt you." Then she took a step forward, a glint of fascination obvious in her eyes, "But, if I do figure it out and bring the attacker to justice… will I receive a reward?"
Harry knew better than to answer, even if he was able to speak in concise sentences.
If, much later that evening when everyone else was asleep, the boy-who-lived dug through his trunk for a certain envelope full of pictures of a certain girl to look at… well that was purely coincidence.
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