The Great Hall was filled with anticipation as students gathered for the first Duelling Club meeting. Candles floated overhead, casting flickering light onto the platform where Lockhart stood, his bright blue robes gleaming absurdly. Next to him, Snape looked even more sour than usual, his dark eyes scanning the gathered students with a glint of something unreadable.
Harry stood near the front, arms crossed as he watched the display unfold. When Lockhart predictably made a fool of himself in an attempt to duel Snape, Harry sighed. "This is going to be a disaster."
"Oh, undoubtedly," Blaise murmured dryly. "But at least it'll be entertaining."
Then, just as Lockhart was about to make another absurd claim about his duelling prowess, Snape cut in. "Enough. I believe it's time for the students to test their abilities." He scanned the crowd before his gaze settled on Harry. "Potter, step forward."
Harry exchanged a wary glance with his friends before stepping onto the platform. Snape's lips curled ever so slightly. "And to make it fair, let's have… Malfoy."
Draco sauntered forward with an arrogance that grated on Harry's nerves. There was something strange in the way Snape leaned toward Malfoy, whispering something that Harry couldn't hear. Then the Potions Master straightened and gave him an unreadable look, his black eyes sharp as ever.
"On my mark," Snape intoned. "One. Two. Three—"
"Serpensortia!" Malfoy shouted before Snape had even finished counting.
A large, dark green snake burst from Malfoy's wand, landing on the platform with a loud thud. It coiled immediately, its golden eyes locking onto the closest target—Justin Finch-Fletchley, who stood frozen, his expression caught between terror and disbelief.
Harry felt his heartbeat stutter. He had a choice to make, but in reality, there was no choice. He could not—would not—let the snake hurt anyone.
His instincts took over.
"Justin," Harry said, his voice firm but calm, "back away. Slowly. Do not break eye contact."
Justin hesitated but nodded, his feet moving stiffly as he took a slow step backward. The other students around them shuffled uncertainly, eyes darting between Harry and the snake.
Harry took a breath and stepped forward. He let the connection flow, let the language rise in his throat naturally. "You don't belong here. You're frightened."
The snake, which had been poised to strike, hesitated, its head tilting slightly as it considered him. "Yessss… Not meant to be here. Summoned. Want to go home."
"It's scared," Harry translated aloud, though his voice carried an edge of frustration. "It was taken from where it belonged."
He knelt carefully, keeping his eyes on the snake as he slowly extended his hands. "I'll help you. Just stay calm."
The snake hesitated before slithering toward him, its body relaxing. Just as it reached him, just as he lifted it gently—
A burst of magic shot from Snape's wand. Aimed directly at the snake.
Harry barely had time to react before the snake disintegrated before his eyes, reduced to nothing but ash. He could feel it—feel the life slipping away between his fingers, feel the sudden emptiness left behind.
Something snapped inside him.
He whirled around, his green eyes blazing. "Why did you do that?!" he demanded, fury vibrating through his entire frame. "It wasn't going to hurt anyone! It was scared, and it just wanted to go home!"
Draco looked startled but quickly composed himself, lifting his chin. "It was just a snake, Potter. Don't be so dramatic."
Harry's breath came faster. His hands clenched into fists. "Just a snake? Just a snake? It was alive! It had thoughts, feelings! You ripped it away from where it belonged and then killed it just because you could!"
Snape's expression remained impassive. "It was a threat."
"It wasn't!" Harry snapped. "It was listening to me! I could have taken it out safely! But you—"
The words died in his throat as he realised the weight of the stares pressing down on him. The entire Great Hall was silent. Dozens of eyes—some shocked, some wary, others intrigued—were locked onto him. He had spoken in Parseltongue. In front of everyone.
The Great Hall remained eerily silent as Harry turned sharply on his heel, his fury still simmering beneath his skin. Without another glance at Snape or Malfoy, he stormed toward the doors, his friends falling into step beside him.
As soon as they stepped into the corridor, the hum of whispered conversations erupted behind them, students already speculating about what had just happened. Harry barely paid attention, his fists still clenched tightly at his sides.
"Bloody hell, Harry," Theo said, breaking the silence. "That was quite the spectacle."
Harry exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean for it to happen like that. But Snape—he just—he killed it. It didn't have to die."
Neville placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "You did everything you could. The rest of us saw it. You calmed it down, got Justin out of danger. That's what matters."
Blaise chuckled. "And you terrified Malfoy in the process. I've never seen him lose his composure like that."
Luna, ever serene, nodded. "It was a very powerful moment. You stood up for something that most people wouldn't even think about." She tilted her head slightly. "And now the entire school knows you speak Parseltongue."
Harry groaned. "Yeah. That's going to be fun to deal with."
Theo smirked. "At least you didn't go full Dark Lord and start commanding an army of snakes. Small victories."
Despite himself, Harry let out a short laugh. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, though the weight of what had happened still pressed on him. He stopped walking and turned to face them. "Look, I know this is going to cause a lot of talk. People might start thinking—"
"We don't care," Neville interrupted firmly. "We know who you are, Harry."
Blaise nodded. "You're not some dark wizard just because you speak to snakes."
Luna smiled. "It's a gift, not a curse."
Harry exhaled, a bit of the anger from earlier replaced by gratitude. "Thanks, guys."
Theo threw an arm around Harry's shoulder as they started walking again. "Come on, let's get out of here before Lockhart decides to give a speech about how he would've handled the situation."
That got a groan from the entire group as they made their way toward the Ravenclaw common room, the weight of the evening's events still lingering, but not nearly as unbearable as it had felt just minutes before.
~
The Christmas holidays had arrived, and the castle had grown quieter with most students returning home. But Harry and Luna remained, both content to spend their time at Hogwarts rather than anywhere else. Luna's father had gone on another expedition, leaving her alone for the holidays, and Harry, as always, had no interest in returning to Privet Drive. The Cove would have been nice though.
Over the past couple of weeks, whispers about the Duelling Club incident had only grown louder. Many students were still murmuring about how terrible it had been for Snape to kill the poor snake when all it wanted was to go home. Others, like Justin, had personally thanked Harry for saving him. But a week after that, Justin had been found petrified—along with Nearly Headless Nick.
Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had taken it upon themselves to pester Harry at every turn. "You can't be the Heir of Slytherin, Harry," Hermione had insisted one afternoon in the library, her voice urgent. "You're the Boy Who Lived! That makes no sense!"
"Yeah, mate," Ron added. "But Malfoy—he could be. That's why we have to get into the Slytherin common room. We'll use Polyjuice Potion—sneak in, find out what he knows!"
Harry crossed his arms, unimpressed. "That's a stupid plan. And I don't care what Malfoy has to say. Leave me alone." That was a lie, but he wouldn't tell them that.
He turned on his heel and left them standing there, both of them frustrated at his refusal to be part of their scheme. He wasn't interested in proving himself to them—or to anyone else.
Later that evening, as the snow fell gently outside, Harry sat beside Luna in their usual quiet spot near the Ravenclaw tower. "I need a break from all of this," he muttered. "Let's go see Nox."
Luna tilted her head, her silvery eyes thoughtful. "Oh please! She'll be missing us."
They had been sneaking away whenever possible to visit Nox, ensuring that no one caught them slipping out to the cove, but it wasn't as often as they'd liked.
The morning air was crisp and fresh as Harry and Luna stood in a quiet corner of the Ravenclaw tower common room, waiting for Tilly to take them to the cove. They had just finished breakfast, and the castle was still hushed from the holiday lull. The idea of visiting Nox filled Harry with warmth—his little dragon was anything but little now, and he couldn't wait to see her again.
With a quiet pop, Tilly appeared, eyes bright with excitement. "Master Harry, Miss Luna, Tilly is ready to take you now."
Harry grinned. "Thanks, Tilly. Let's go."
A second later, the cool stone walls of Hogwarts vanished, replaced by the familiar salty air of the cove. The moment they arrived, a gust of wind hit them, carrying the scent of the sea. The tide was coming in strong today, waves crashing violently against the rocks, but the area in front of Nox's cave remained calm thanks to the goblin wards.
Before Harry could take a step forward, a deep, joyful rumble echoed through the cove. "Mother!"
Something massive and dark shot toward him. In the span of a breath, Harry was knocked off his feet as a warm, scaled body barrelled into him, sending him sprawling onto the soft sand.
"Oof—Nox!" Harry laughed as he found himself staring up at a very pleased dragon looming over him. "You've gotten even bigger!"
Nox, now standing at a full seven feet tall, nuzzled against his chest, her deep gold eyes gleaming with delight. "Mother is here! I missed you!" she chirped, her tail thumping against the sand like an overgrown dog.
Luna giggled beside them, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I do believe you've been tackled, Harry."
"Yeah, I noticed," Harry said, still grinning as he rubbed behind Nox's horns, earning a pleased rumble. "You're getting strong. If you keep growing like this, I won't be able to hug you anymore."
Nox lifted her head proudly. "I have been flying with the winds! The stronger they get, the faster I fly!" She spread her wings, the leathery membranes catching the wind as if to demonstrate. "Soon, I'll be able to ride the storm itself!"Harry felt a surge of pride. "That's amazing, Nox. You've been working hard."
Luna stepped forward, reaching up to stroke Nox's neck. "You're becoming quite the sky dancer, aren't you? I bet the clouds watch in wonder."
Nox hummed happily, lowering her head so Luna could scratch the spot beneath her jaw. "Flying is my favourite thing. But you, Mother, you need to fly more, too! I will teach you!"
Harry chuckled. "I think I'd need wings for that, Nox."
She tilted her head. "Then we can use mine!"
Luna clapped her hands together. "That sounds like a grand adventure. A wizard and his dragon, soaring through the skies."
Harry rolled his eyes fondly. "You two are going to get me into trouble, aren't you?"
"Absolutely," Luna said dreamily.
They spent the next few hours playing in the cove, with Nox eagerly showing off her new flight techniques, diving through the winds and soaring in loops above the crashing waves. When she finally tired, she curled up beside them near the cave entrance, her warmth protecting them from the wind.
Harry leaned back against her side, watching as Luna traced patterns in the sand with a stick. "You know," he said, "this feels… nice. Like a real family."
Luna smiled, her gaze soft. "That's because we are a real family, Harry."
Nox let out a sleepy hum, curling her tail around them both. "Always."
~
The holidays had ended, and Hogwarts was once again full of students, their voices filling the corridors with stories from their time away. Harry was glad to be back in the routine of school, but more than that, he was relieved he hadn't gone along with Ron and Hermione's plan. Rumours spread quickly about Hermione's botched Polyjuice attempt leaving her partially transformed into a cat and Ron getting caught sneaking into the Slytherin common room. Harry had no desire to be caught up in their reckless schemes, especially when he had his own path to follow.
The months had passed quickly into February and Valentine's Day at Hogwarts had turned into a complete nightmare.
Ever since Lockhart had declared the celebration a grand event, the castle had been overrun by pink decorations, fluttering confetti, and worst of all—the dreaded singing dwarfs. Harry had already been ambushed in the middle of breakfast by one particularly enthusiastic dwarf, who loudly recited a poem that was very clearly from Ginny Weasley. It had been awkward enough, but then things got worse.
By mid-afternoon, he had received two other valentines that left him utterly baffled. They weren't signed, but they were disturbingly… suggestive. One had asked, "Does your Parseltongue work in the bedroom too?" Harry had frowned at it, confused as to why someone would ask such a thing about his ability to talk to snakes, only for an older Ravenclaw to read over his shoulder and nearly choke on her drink.
The second one had been even worse. He didn't quite understand all the implications, but judging by how some of the seventh years had gone disturbingly quiet before glaring murderously around the Great Hall, he figured it wasn't exactly appropriate.
Now, as dinner came to an end, Harry spotted another dwarf marching determinedly toward him. Panic set in.
"Nope. Absolutely not," he muttered before slipping from his seat. He barely avoided a grasping hand from the short, determined menace and darted out of the Great Hall.
He weaved through the corridors, dodging another trio of singing dwarfs along the way. "Who even paid for this insanity?!" he hissed under his breath, barely sliding past Peeves, who was cackling as he directed a dwarf toward an unsuspecting victim.
Eventually, he reached the fourth-floor corridor and wrenched open the door to their warded hideout, slamming it behind him. He leaned against it, catching his breath.
Theo, Blaise, Neville, and Luna all looked up from their usual spots.
"Let me guess," Blaise smirked. "Dwarfs?"
Harry groaned. "I hate this day."
Luna, completely serene, handed him a chocolate heart. "At least you're loved."
Theo snorted. "Yeah, a little too loved if those letters are anything to go by."
Harry scowled. "I still don't get most of them."
Blaise smirked, patting him on the shoulder. "You will when you're older, mate. You will when you're older."
~
The heavily warded room had become their unofficial meeting space.
Theo leaned forward, his fingers steepled. "We have to figure out how to tell the professors what we know without them brushing us off. If we just walk up and say 'It's a Basilisk,' they'll think we're mad."
Neville frowned. "They didn't even listen when people said they saw shadows moving. Why would they believe a bunch of second-years?"
Luna side-eyed Harry at that, laughter in her eyes.
"We need proof," Blaise said simply. "And we don't have any. Just theories."
Harry tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Then we find proof. But maybe there's someone who knows more than they're saying. Someone who was around when this happened before."
Luna tilted her head thoughtfully. "Hagrid has been here for over fifty years, hasn't he? He might know something."
Blaise smirked. "Tricking Hagrid into talking? That should be interesting."
The next afternoon, they made their way down to Hagrid's hut, knocking on the massive wooden door. Hagrid beamed when he saw them, ushering them inside with a warm smile. "Ah, 'Arry, Luna, the lot of yeh! What brings yeh here?"
Harry glanced at the others before stepping forward. "We were wondering… about the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened. You were here back then, weren't you?"
Hagrid stiffened. "Now, why'd yeh be askin' about that? That was a long time ago. Nothin' but trouble, tha' was."
"We just want to understand," Luna said softly. "So we can stop whatever is happening now."
Hagrid's expression darkened. "I dunno what yeh think yer goin' to find, but Aragog didn't kill nobody! It was a terrible accident!"
Harry's eyes widened. "Aragog?"
Hagrid paled. "Forget I said tha'! Yeh best be gettin' back ter the castle, now."
With that, he all but pushed them out of his hut, leaving them standing outside, the chill in the air feeling even sharper.
"Well, that was interesting," Theo muttered. "Aragog? He gave us a name."
As they walked back toward the castle, Harry separated from the group, taking a different route to clear his thoughts. As he passed the second-floor bathroom—the one where Mrs. Norris had been found petrified—he noticed something odd.
Water was seeping out from under the door.
He hesitated, then heard soft sobbing from within.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped inside. Myrtle was hovering over one of the stalls, wailing dramatically. "Go away! I was here first!"
"Myrtle, why is the bathroom flooding?" Harry asked.
She sniffled. "Someone threw something at me! It went right through me and landed over there!" She gestured toward the far side of the room.
Harry moved closer and spotted a small, black-bound book lying in a puddle of water. He picked it up, flipping it over to read the name inside: T M Riddle.
"T. M. Riddle?" Harry muttered. He had never heard the name before, but something about it tugged at his curiosity.
Later that evening, Harry sat in the Ravenclaw common room, staring at the journal.
He flipped the diary open. Nothing. No writing, no spells he could recognise. On a whim, he dipped his quill into ink and wrote: Hello. My name is Harry.
The ink vanished. A moment later, words appeared in elegant script.
Hello Harry.
Harry's breath caught.
You write back, Harry wrote, heart pounding.
Of course. I am Tom Riddle. Tell me, Harry, do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?
Harry's pulse quickened. He hesitated only a moment before responding, I do. But I need to know more.
The words shimmered before fading away. Then let me show you.
Before Harry could react, the world shifted around him, and he was pulled into a memory.
The Hogwarts of fifty years ago materialised before him. Students in old-fashioned robes milled about, unaware of his presence. And there, in the middle of it all, stood a boy with strikingly handsome features—dark hair, sharp cheekbones, and piercing eyes that made Harry's breath catch.
Harry felt an odd warmth rise to his face before he shook himself. Focus, Potter.
As he watched, the memory unfolded, revealing Riddle's conversation with Dumbledore, the accusations against Hagrid, and the moment the Basilisk's supposed attacks had been pinned on an innocent party.
When he was finally ejected from the memory, Harry sat back, heart racing.
"That was… incredible," he murmured. His mind was filled with questions, but one thing was clear—this diary was powerful, and Tom Riddle was at the heart of whatever had happened all those years ago.
And he needed to know more.
~
Harry made his way to the warded room, the diary tucked under his arm. He had spent the night mulling over the memory Riddle had shown him, feeling uneasy about how real it all seemed. When he pushed open the door, he barely had time to register Luna's presence before realising something was very wrong.
Luna was pacing the room, her fingers twisting together, her normally dreamy expression clouded with something raw and frantic. Her breath was shallow, her normally ethereal calm replaced with visible distress.
"Luna?" Harry hesitated, stepping closer. "What's wrong?"
Luna's head snapped up, her wide silver eyes locking onto him. "You're going to die, Harry." Her voice wavered. "I—I keep seeing it. Over and over. A dark, wet cavern. It smells of death, and the air is thick with whispers. And yellow eyes, so large they fill the darkness. Screaming."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. "Luna—"
She surged forward, reaching for him, but then her gaze fell on the diary tucked under his arm. In an instant, her breath hitched, and a strangled cry left her lips. "No!" Her hands flew to her head as though trying to physically shake away what she was seeing. "It—it speaks in the echoes! Shadows clinging to pages! Twisting, pulling, whispering things that should not be heard—"
"Luna!" Harry grabbed her shoulders to steady her, alarmed at how pale she looked. She struggled against his grip, her wild eyes locked onto the diary.
"It's wrong, Harry! It's alive! It latches onto thoughts and burrows into them! It will not let go!" Her breathing was erratic, hands clutching at his robes as though she could force him to understand. "It does not belong in your hands! He can't have you!"
Harry felt something cold slither down his spine. He had never seen Luna like this—not since just after her mother died, when her visions had first started overwhelming her. He had spent hours sitting beside her back then, grounding her, pulling her back from the edge of whatever reality she sometimes slipped into.
His grip tightened. "Luna. Look at me. It's just a diary."
She shook her head violently. "No. No, it's not. It breathes, Harry. It feeds off you. It—" she let out a shuddering breath "—it sees you the same way the eyes in my dreams do. The same way the darkness waits for you to come closer."
Harry's stomach twisted. Without thinking, he yanked the diary from under his arm and hurled it across the room. It hit the stone wall and fell to the floor, its cover closing with an innocent thud.
Luna sagged slightly, trembling. "Please, Harry. Please don't touch it again."
He swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. I won't. Just—just breathe, okay?"
Luna nodded weakly, but she still looked haunted, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Harry cast a wary glance at the diary lying on the floor. Everything in him screamed that this was more than just a gut feeling. Luna's visions had never been this urgent before.
After a long moment, he took a slow breath and stretched out his hand. Flames flickered to life in his palm, dancing between his fingers.
He lifted his hand, willing the flames to stretch out and consume the diary.
The fire licked at the black cover—but nothing happened.
Harry's breath hitched as the flames passed over it harmlessly, flickering wildly but leaving no mark, no scorch, no sign of damage. It remained as pristine as before, absorbing the fire like a void swallowing light.
He pulled his hand back abruptly, extinguishing the flames with a sharp flick of his fingers. His heart pounded in his chest.
"That—that should have worked," he murmured.
Luna's gaze flickered between him and the diary. "It doesn't want to burn," she whispered. "It won't burn. Not without hell fire or the tooth."
They stood in silence, the weight of that realisation settling over them. The diary was wrong. And now, Harry knew it wasn't just some relic of the past.
It was something much, much worse.
~
With Luna's warning still echoing in his mind and the diary's unnatural resistance to fire fresh in his thoughts, Harry knew they couldn't ignore it any longer. He, Luna, Neville, Blaise, and Theo redoubled their efforts, determined to uncover the truth about Tom Riddle and his connection to the Chamber of Secrets.
Their search led them deep into the school's archives, scouring old records, abandoned trophies, and forgotten hallways. Eventually, they found something—Riddle's name inscribed on a golden plaque, alongside a polished medal for Special Services to the School, dated fifty years prior.
"So we know he did something that got him recognised," Neville said, running a hand over the worn engraving. "But what?"
Blaise frowned. "If it was connected to the Chamber, why isn't there more? It's like the whole thing was… erased."
"Or buried," Theo muttered. "Someone didn't want people looking too closely."
They found little else, but their gut told them they were onto something. It was only when they gathered in the library to compare notes that disaster struck.
Harry had placed the diary on the table, momentarily distracted by a hushed conversation behind him. He strained to catch the words and stood up walking towards them, but before he could get close enough, the students whispering quickly moved away. Meanwhile, the others were scattered among the shelves, retrieving books for further research.
By the time Harry reached for the diary again, it was gone.
His stomach lurched. "Where is it?" he demanded, frantically patting down his pockets and searching the floor beneath the table.
Luna returned first, her eyes widening when she saw his panicked expression. "Harry?"
"The diary—it's gone!"
The others arrived seconds later, their faces mirroring his concern. "What do you mean it's gone?" Blaise asked sharply.
"I had it right here," Harry insisted. "Someone took it!"
They scoured the area, asking nearby students if they had seen anything, but no one admitted to witnessing anything suspicious. Anxiety clawed at Harry's chest. That diary is dangerous.
Luna bit her lip. "We have to find it. It's… it's not safe in anyone else's hands."
"Whoever took it must have been watching us," Theo muttered. "Waiting for the right moment."
Despite their efforts, they found nothing. Frustrated and out of leads, they decided there was only one other person they could ask about Riddle: Hagrid.
Under the cover of night, they slipped out of the castle, following the winding path toward Hagrid's hut. The flickering light of his fireplace was visible through the window, but before they could knock, the sound of voices made them freeze.
Harry motioned for them to hide in the treeline just as three figures approached the hut. From the shadows, they watched as Cornelius Fudge, Dumbledore, and Lucius Malfoy knocked on Hagrid's door.
Straining their ears they caught the tense exchange within.
"I'm sorry, Hagrid, but we have no choice," Fudge's voice came. "With what's been happening, the Ministry needs to take action."
"Take action? By arrestin' me?" Hagrid's voice thundered. "I told yeh, I never opened the Chamber of Secrets!"
Lucius Malfoy's drawling voice followed. "Yet here we are, with history repeating itself. You were expelled for a reason, after all."
Dumbledore's voice remained steady. "If the Ministry wishes to remove Hagrid, there is little I can do to stop it."
Harry clenched his fists. They're arresting him? For what? As much as he disliked Hagrid being Dumbledore's man, he didn't seem like he would hurt anyone.
Hagrid let out a heavy breath before muttering, "If anyone wants ter find the truth... follow the spiders."
Fudge, Dumbledore, and Malfoy didn't seem to notice the cryptic words, but from their hiding place, Harry and the others exchanged glances. Follow the spiders?
As Hagrid was led away, the five of them remained in the shadows, their minds racing. The diary was gone, Hagrid had been taken, and they were no closer to finding answers.
But now they had a new clue.
They had to follow the spiders.
Luna was the first to notice the skittering movement along the ground. "They're retreating," she whispered, pointing toward a line of spiders scuttling into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. The group exchanged glances, uncertainty heavy in the air.
"We really shouldn't follow them," Neville muttered, shifting uneasily. "You all know this is a bad idea."
"Of course it is," Theo sighed. "But we're doing it anyway."
They moved cautiously, keeping close together as they followed the trail of spiders. The deeper they went, the more the towering trees blocked out the moonlight, leaving them surrounded by eerie shadows and the distant sounds of the forest.
It wasn't long before they stumbled into a massive clearing, the earth beneath them thick with webbing. A hulking figure emerged from the darkness—a monstrous spider, its legs creaking as it moved. Dozens of smaller arachnids surrounded them, waiting.
"Aragog," Harry murmured, recognition setting in from what Hagrid had said.
The massive Acromantula loomed over them, his blind eyes shifting toward their voices. "Who dares enter my domain?"
Harry took a hesitant step forward. "Hagrid sent us. We need to know what happened fifty years ago."
At the mention of Hagrid's name, Aragog hesitated before letting out a slow, rattling breath. "Hagrid was my friend. He protected me. But I was blamed for the attacks all those years ago. The true monster—the one that killed the girl—was not me."
Luna's voice was calm but urgent. "Then what was it?"
"A creature of the deepest darkness… it moves through the pipes, unseen. It speaks in whispers no human should understand." Aragog's voice grew fainter, almost regretful. "But I cannot let you leave. My children are hungry."
A rustling sound filled the clearing as hundreds of clicking legs surrounded them. The spiders began closing in, their eyes gleaming in the dim light.
"Move!" Theo shouted, raising his wand and sending out a blast of fire toward the nearest cluster of spiders. Neville and Blaise joined in, their spells knocking back the swarming creatures, but there were too many.
Harry clenched his fists, his heart hammering. "Luna, get behind me."
She obeyed without question, standing close as Harry took a deep breath. He had no choice—he had to act now.
He dropped to his knees, pressing his palms flat against the ground. Summoning his magic, he urged the earth beneath them to wake up.
The response was immediate. The ground trembled, then burst to life as thick roots shot up, twisting and tangling like living vines. They struck outward, slamming into the spiders, knocking them back, trapping them in tangles of earth and wood.
Neville, Blaise, and Theo froze, watching in awe as the very forest obeyed Harry's command.
"Bloody hell," Blaise breathed. "That's not just wandless magic… that's elemental control."
Harry gritted his teeth, feeling the weight of the magic pulse through him. "Go! Now!"
They didn't hesitate. Using the moment of chaos, the group scrambled out of the clearing, dodging the remaining spiders. They hurled spells over their shoulders, blasting away anything that got too close. By the time they broke free from the forest's grasp, their breaths were ragged, and their hearts pounded in their chests.
They collapsed onto the grass near the castle, gasping for air. Theo was the first to speak. "Harry… that was insane. You controlled the earth like it was part of you. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"
Blaise wiped a hand down his face. "More than rare. It's nearly unheard of to have that kind of control over an element. Let alone at our age."
Harry hesitated before answering. "It's not that big a deal. Right?" He looked between them, feeling self-conscious.
Neville exhaled sharply. "I knew you had the affinity for Earth but…Harry this is amazing!"
"I haven't told anyone outside of Luna."
Luna smiles and pins the others with a determined look. "And you won't tell anyone will you?"
Neville, Theo, and Blaise exchanged glances before Neville reached out and gripped Harry's shoulder. "We won't say a word. But Harry—this is big."
Blaise smirked. "Yeah. And if you ever feel like throwing another forest at someone, let us know first next time."
Despite everything, Harry smiled. For now, at least, his secret was safe.
~
The next morning, the air in the Great Hall was thick with tension. Overnight, news had spread that there had been two more attacks—this time, Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater. The students were filled with fear, whispering anxiously amongst themselves. And then came the second announcement: Professor Dumbledore had been temporarily removed as Headmaster.
For most of the school, this was a cause for distress. But for Harry, it was a relief. Without Dumbledore looming over him, he felt as though a weight had been lifted. He wasn't sure if it was paranoia or simply justified caution, but having the old man constantly keeping tabs on him had never sat well.
"I don't think we can wait any longer," Harry murmured to his friends as they stood corner of the Great Hall after dinner, keeping their voices low. "It's time we tell McGonagall what we know."
Luna nodded, her eyes steady despite the lingering worry in them. "The clues are all there—the spiders, the voice you've been hearing, the petrification's. It has to be a Basilisk."
Neville hesitated. "But what if she doesn't believe us?"
"Then we go to Flitwick," Blaise said simply. "Someone has to listen."
They left the Great Hall together and made their way to Professor McGonagall's office. When they explained their theory to her, she listened with a composed expression, but when Harry finished, she sighed and shook her head.
"That is quite the assumption, Mr. Potter," she said, a hint of condescension in her tone. "A Basilisk is an incredibly rare and deadly creature. If one had been lurking in Hogwarts, the attacks would have been far worse. What you are suggesting is improbable."
Harry clenched his fists. "But we have proof! The victims weren't killed because they saw it through reflections. And the spiders—"
"That is enough, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said firmly. "While I appreciate your concern, the staff is handling the situation. Do not let your imagination run away with you."
Frustrated and feeling dismissed, the group left her office in frustration.
"That was a waste of time," Theo muttered as they descended the staircase.
"No, not entirely," Harry said, determination hardening his voice. "We're going to Flitwick."
The small Charms professor listened to them far more intently, his sharp eyes studying Harry as he recounted everything once again. Unlike McGonagall, Flitwick didn't dismiss them outright.
"A Basilisk…" he murmured, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "It's not impossible. You make a compelling case, and if true, this would explain many things." He looked at them seriously. "I will do my best to convince Professor McGonagall that this needs further investigation. But in the meantime, you must be careful. If you are right, this is a danger none of you should face alone."
While they appreciated Flitwick's open-mindedness, Harry and the others were still frustrated. The longer it took for the professors to act, the more danger the school was in.
As if their day couldn't get worse, Ron Weasley decided to make things personal.
"This is your fault, Potter!" Ron's voice echoed across the courtyard where they had been heading. He stormed toward them, his face red with anger. "If you'd just helped Hermione research instead of staying away from us, maybe she wouldn't be lying in the hospital wing!"
Harry turned to face him, unamused. "That's ridiculous, Weasley."
Ron scoffed. "Oh yeah? Then why is it you who hears the monster? Why is it you who speaks to snakes? Admit it! You've got something to do with this!"
Before Harry could respond, Parvati and Padma Patil stepped in between them.
"Oh, shut up, Weasley," Parvati snapped. "Do you even know what Parseltongue is?"
Padma nodded, her expression cold. "The ability to speak to snakes is a divine gift. In India, it is incredibly rare, and those born with it are considered blessed by the gods. The fact that Harry has it after generations of it not showing in the Potter line means it must be a very strong, pure gift."
Ron gaped at them. "But—"
Parvati rolled her eyes. "Honestly, do some research before you start spouting nonsense."
Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron. "Anything else you want to say?"
Ron's face burned with frustration, but he turned and stomped away without another word.
"Thanks," Harry said to the Patil twins.
Padma smiled. "You shouldn't have to explain yourself to people who don't understand."
A couple of weeks later just as the day was winding down, a Ravenclaw prefect approached their table in the common room.
"Potter," she said, "Weasley was knocking on the common room door. Said a professor requested you."
Harry exchanged glances with his friends before standing. "Alright. Let's see what this is about. I'll be back soon I guess."
Ron stood in front of Harry, his face grim as he looked at Harry. "McGonagall asked for you. She needs help opening the Chamber of Secrets."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Fine. Let's go."
As they hurried through the castle toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Ron spoke in hushed tones. "I overheard some of the professors talking about the writing on the wall. Something about 'her remains staying in the Chamber forever.' And then—Ginny. She's gone, Harry." His voice was tight with emotion that made Harry feel sorry for him, even with everything he's said and done. "This morning, I got this letter. It said the entrance was in Myrtle's bathroom." His hand clenching the letter in his hand.
Harry took the letter, eyes scanning the words quickly. The note explained that a professor may require assistance opening the chamber, citing that soon someone may be taken and will not return. To have a parselmouth open the chamber which could be found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. His stomach clenched at that, but something else caught his eye—the handwriting.
It was a script he had seen a few times before. It was Dumbledore's.
Harry felt a flicker of doubt. Why had Dumbledore never mentioned the location of the chamber when people started getting petrified? Why now? He thought, pocketing the letter.
When they entered the bathroom, Lockhart was already there, looking impatient. He turned at the sound of footsteps and immediately scoffed. "Ah, finally! Where is Professor McGonagall? Honestly, I have much more pressing matters than standing around in a bathroom. A damsel is in distress, and it is I who must come to the rescue!"
Harry exchanged a look with Ron, but before he could say anything, Ron lunged forward, knocking Lockhart's wand out of his hand and levelling his own at the man's chest.
"What are you doing?!" Lockhart sputtered, looking scandalised.
Harry took a step back, shocked by Ron's sudden aggression. "Ron, what the hell?"
"He's going in first," Ron said, nodding toward the pompous professor. "I want to see him 'rescue' my sister."
Harry folded his arms, his voice cool. "You lied. McGonagall never asked for me. You just wanted me here to open the Chamber."
Ron didn't even look guilty. "You're the only one who can open it. If we went to a professor, we'd waste time, and Ginny doesn't have time."
Harry clenched his jaw, furious but unable to argue against the logic. As much as he disliked Ron and his sister, he couldn't let someone die. If he opened the chamber, then he could convince Ron to go get an actual teacher.
He turned his attention to the room, scanning for anything that could be the entrance. His eyes landed on the row of sinks, and something caught his attention—a small carving of a snake on one of the taps.
Stepping forward, he placed his fingers on the cold porcelain, fingers sliding over the snake carving. In a quiet hiss, whispered, "Open."
There was a deep rumbling, and the sink moved, revealing a large, gaping pipe leading into the darkness below.
Lockhart paled. "Oh, dear. That's rather ominous, isn't it? Well, no matter! I suppose I should—"
Ron wasted no time. He shoved Lockhart forward, sending him tumbling headfirst into the hole.
"Ron!" Harry snapped, but before he could react, Ron turned and shoved him too.
Harry had not been expecting that. He barely had time to curse as he fell, twisting midair. He pushed his hands outward, calling on his wind magic instinctively, slowing his descent until he landed lightly on his feet at the bottom of the pipe.
Lockhart, in contrast, had landed awkwardly in a heap, groaning as he clutched his back.
Harry dusted himself off, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. Ron pushed me. He had never expected Ron to physically attack him. It was a mistake he wouldn't make again.
Lockhart struggled to his feet, his bravado flickering. "Well, that was quite unnecessary! I could have broken something important!"
Harry barely spared him a glance. His focus was on the dark tunnel stretching ahead of them.
Lockhart was pacing back and forth, running his hands through his golden curls, muttering to himself. "This is madness! Absolute madness! I should be anywhere but here!"
Harry had enough. "Shut up, Lockhart," he snapped, his patience wearing dangerously thin.
Before Lockhart could retort, there was a loud thud and a yelp from above. Ron tumbled out of the pipe and landed gracelessly onto the stone floor. Before he could even fully register where he was, Harry was on him.
With a flick of his wrist, Harry summoned his magic, tendrils of unseen force pinning Ron against the cavern wall. Ron let out a startled gasp, struggling but unable to move.
"What were you thinking?" Harry growled, stepping closer. His voice was dangerously low, his anger simmering. "You pushed me into a bloody death trap!"
Ron squirmed, his expression shifting between anger and defensiveness. "I—I panicked! I didn't think you'd get hurt!"
Harry's grip tightened before he forced himself to let go. The moment Ron dropped to the floor, they all turned their attention to their surroundings. The cavern stretched before them, dark and unwelcoming. There was no clear way back up.
"No choice but forward," Harry muttered, marching ahead.
The path was treacherous, lined with ancient, crumbling stone. As they moved further in, the air grew heavier, the shadows longer. Then, Lockhart let out a strangled shriek causing them all to jump.
A massive snake skin lay curled ahead of them, pale and dry. It was enormous—far larger than anything Harry had ever seen before.
Ron yelped and stumbled back. "That thing was alive once? Bloody hell!"
Lockhart, however, was breathing heavily, his eyes darting about with something that looked suspiciously like calculation rather than fear.
Before either of them could react, Lockhart moved.
Quick as a flash, he lunged at Ron and snatched his wand right from his grip. Ron staggered backward in shock, his mouth hanging open.
"Oh, my dear boys," Lockhart said, shaking his head with mock sympathy, "this is most unfortunate. You see, I have a reputation to uphold. The loss of two heroic young students—it's tragic, really. But just think of the story! I fought bravely, but alas, I was too late to save you both, and the poor Weasley girl was already lost. Oh, it'll be a bestseller, I'm sure."
Harry's blood ran cold and he prepared his magic to blast the man away. "You absolute coward."
Lockhart merely smiled. "All it will take is a little—Obliviate—"
The moment he raised Ron's wand, Harry moved to stop him, but it was too late.
The spell backfired.
A loud explosion erupted from the wand, sending Lockhart flying backward with a strangled cry. The cavern trembled violently as the unstable magic triggered a collapse.
Harry barely had time to react before he was thrown backward, the world around him shaking and crumbling. Dust and debris filled the air as the ceiling above caved in, separating him from Ron and Lockhart entirely.
"Harry!" Ron's voice was muffled on the other side of the rockfall. "Lockhart's oblivated himself! I'll find a way through from here!"
Harry pushed himself up, coughing through the dust. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant." He glared at the pile of rubble, resisting the urge to blast it apart.
Now he was alone.
Steeling himself, Harry turned and pressed forward. The tunnel narrowed as he walked, the silence stretching thick and unnatural. The atmosphere shifted, colder now, as he approached a massive round door engraved with snakes.
Harry inhaled sharply. This was it.
Stepping closer, he placed his hand on the surface, his voice low as he whispered in Parseltongue, Open.
The stone shifted and groaned as the serpents uncoiled, slithering aside to reveal the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry stepped inside cautiously, his eyes scanning the dimly lit chamber. The first thing he saw was Ginny Weasley's body lying motionless on the cold stone floor.
He looked around, expecting to see whoever had taken her, there was no one else there.
It was just him, Ginny, and the lingering sense that he was not as alone as he thought.
As Harry approached Ginny's still form, his breath caught in his throat. Kneeling beside her, he placed two fingers against her neck, relief flooding him when he felt a faint pulse. She was still alive.
Before he could do anything else, a smooth voice echoed through the chamber.
"She won't wake."
Harry stood quickly, wand gripped tightly, his eyes scanning the dim chamber until they landed on a figure leaning against one of the massive serpent carvings. His heart skipped a beat. He knew that face.
Tall, dark-haired, and strikingly handsome, Tom Riddle stood with an air of effortless confidence. His pale skin was illuminated by the eerie glow of the chamber, and his sharp, intelligent eyes gleamed as he watched Harry.
"You," Harry breathed. "You're the one from the diary. Tom Riddle."
Tom smiled, tilting his head. "Very good, Harry. I was hoping you'd be clever enough to figure it out."
Harry wasn't fooled by the friendly tone. Luna's warnings rang in his head. He knew better than to trust this version of Tom Riddle. And yet…
He found himself caught, if only for a moment, by the sheer presence of him. Riddle was undeniably handsome, his chiselled features and aristocratic posture making him seem almost unreal. The way his lips curved in amusement, the sharp gleam in his dark eyes—it made something in Harry's stomach twist.
Then, without a word, Tom flicked his fingers. Harry's wand shot out of his grip and flew into Riddle's waiting hand.
Harry froze. Wandless magic.
His breath hitched as he realised that, besides himself, he had never seen anyone use it before. His fascination warred with his instinct to be wary.
"You see, Harry," Riddle mused, rolling Harry's wand between his fingers, "Ginny told me everything. Her foolish little obsession, her dreams of marrying you, how she poured her heart into my pages. I know all about you—how you defeated the Dark Lord as a mere baby."
Harry clenched his jaw. "So?"
Tom's eyes darkened with something unreadable. "How is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent was able to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"
A chill ran through Harry's body as Riddle's smirk widened. The air between them seemed to shift, growing heavier with tension.
"You were a student 50 years ago…who are you really?" Harry's mind was slowly connecting the dots.
Using Harrys wand, he writes his name into the air with glowing letters then swipes to reveal the name hidden within.
I am Lord Voldemort
Tom stepped closer, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate movements. "And yet, I have no desire to kill you, Harry. Quite the opposite, in fact."
Harry took a step back, his pulse quickening. "What do you mean?"
Tom's gaze was intense, almost predatory. "You belong with me. You're a Parselmouth—just like me. You must be very powerful, Harry. I felt it. When you touched my diary, I could feel the power within you," His voice dropped lower, silkier. "Stay by my side, and I will show you wonders you cannot even imagine."
Harry swallowed, feeling heat rise to his face as Tom reached out, fingertips ghosting against his cheek. The moment their skin met, a spark jolted through him, like static electricity, but stronger. A shiver ran down Harry's spine, his thoughts momentarily fogged.
Riddle's thumb brushed along his cheekbone, his expression unreadable. The moment stretched between them, the air charged with something Harry couldn't quite name.
Then—
"Harry!" Luna's voice screamed in his mind, breaking the trance. His vision cleared, and reality slammed into him. The diary is evil.This is Voldemort.
With a burst of magic, Harry shoved Riddle away with a wave of force. Tom staggered backward, his expression twisting from obsession to fury.
"Fine," he sneered, eyes flashing dangerously. "If you won't belong to me, then you won't belong to anyone."
Riddle turned sharply and hissed in Parseltongue, "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"
The stone mouth of the serpent statue groaned open. A massive shadow slithered out.
The Basilisk.
Harry immediately averted his gaze to the floor, his heart pounding. He hissed out, "Wait! I mean no harm!"
The Basilisk's furious hiss rattled the chamber. "Lies. A pretender. Only the Heir commands me."
"I am the heir of Slytherin!" The basilisk seemed to pause for a moment before shaking itself.
Riddle's laughter echoed. "You see, Harry? She only listens to me." He flicked his wrist. "Kill him."
Harry dodged just in time as the serpent lunged, fangs snapping where he had just stood. He landed in a crouch, hands ablaze with fire. Without hesitation, he hurled the flames forward, striking the serpent's thick hide. The fire rolled across its scales but barely left a mark, the heat absorbed into its ancient, magic-infused body.
"Brilliant," Harry muttered. "Of course a thousand-year-old snake has magic-resistant skin."
Above him, a sudden cry rang out. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, swooped into the chamber, diving at the Basilisk and clawing at its face. A scream of fury filled the chamber as the bird struck again and again until—
The Basilisk shrieked in agony. Its eyes had been clawed out.
Harry felt a surge of hope. I don't have to look away anymore.
The Sorting Hat dropped at his feet, delivered by Fawkes. Harry barely had time to register it before the Basilisk lunged again. Harry acted on instinct. He raised his hands, pulling at the water in the chamber, twisting it into a swirling mass. With a powerful thrust, he sent a massive surge of water slamming into the serpent, wrapping around its body and limbs. As the Basilisk thrashed, he froze the water solid, encasing the monster in thick ice.
Riddle's furious shout rang through the chamber. "Enough! Surrender Harry and I will let you live."
With Harry's own wand, Riddle unleashed a blast of energy that shattered the frozen beast free. The Basilisk hissed in fury, thrashing wildly.
Harry's gaze darted to the Sorting Hat, where something gleamed within. The hilt of a sword.
As the Basilisk lunged again, Harry threw himself forward, gripping the hilt and pulling free the sword. In one smooth motion, he turned, raising the blade just as the massive snake's fanged mouth came down upon him.
With all his strength, he drove the sword straight through the roof of the Basilisk's mouth.
A sharp pain pierced his arm—one of its fangs had sunk deep into his flesh.
The Basilisk let out one final, rattling hiss before its body collapsed.
"NOOOO!" Riddle's enraged scream tore through the chamber.
Harry gasped for breath, vision swimming, venom burning through his veins. Above him, Riddle's expression twisted from fury to something far more dangerous. Loss.
"You should have been mine, Harry," Riddle murmured, eyes glinting. "A true elemental and the Dark Lord. We would have been unstoppable. The world would have worshipped us. Would have worshipped you."
Harry barely had the strength to keep his eyes open as pain throbbed through his body, his breaths coming shallow and uneven. He felt the sharp burn of venom coursing through his veins, his limbs heavy as if the very air around him was weighing him down.
Tom let out a soft, almost affectionate sigh, kneeling beside him as he picked up the diary and held Harry's body in his arms. "It's almost done, Harry," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from Harry's sweat-dampened forehead. "Just a little longer, and I'll be whole again. I can't save you."
Harry stared up at him, the edges of his vision blurring. There was something strangely wistful about it all, something tragic in knowing that a version of Tom Riddle could have been different. That in another life, perhaps, they wouldn't have been enemies.
But this wasn't that life.
Summoning the last reserves of his strength, Harry's fingers closed around the basilisk fang still slick with his own blood that he yanked out of his arm. With a mournful sort of determination, he lifted the fang and in one swift motion, plunged it into the diary.
Tom's eyes widened in horror. "No!"
A deafening scream echoed through the chamber as Tom lunged, arcs of light shooting from his body, weakly grasping at Harry's wrist, his expression twisted in panic. "Harry, don't! Please, don't!"
Harry grit his teeth and stabbed again.
Tom let out a final, agonised wail as his form began to unravel, dark tendrils of magic fraying and breaking apart. His desperate fingers clawed at the air, reaching for something—for Harry—before he was gone.
Silence filled the chamber.
And then, Harry felt nothing but emptiness.
His body wavered, exhaustion pulling him under. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, Luna's voice echoed like a soft wind, dreamlike and distant.
It's okay, Harry, she whispered. You're going to join the stars.
His lips curled faintly at the thought. He liked that idea. Maybe he could rest, finally—
A sharp, burning sensation cut through the haze, snapping him back to the present. A trill rang out, warm and reassuring, and Harry forced his eyes open just enough to see golden tears dripping onto his wound.
The phoenix's luminous eyes met his, and Harry felt the fire spread through him—not painful, but cleansing, driving out the venom that had been eating away at him. Slowly, his breathing steadied, the ache in his chest fading into something tolerable.
He exhaled shakily, rolling onto his side to look at Ginny. She was still unconscious but had more colour in her cheeks. She was alive.
Pushing himself up with effort, he glanced around the chamber. Now that the danger had passed, the sheer size of the basilisk registered properly. The thing was massive.
A weak laugh bubbled from his lips, almost hysterical. He had actually killed it. He, a second-year, had taken down a thousand-year-old monster with a sword.
His gaze drifted to the weapon. He traced the ornate hilt with his thumb before turning it over to read the inscription.
Godric Gryffindor.
A strange feeling settled in his chest—Mine, his mind supplied, unbidden.
His fingers curled around the hilt as a thought crossed his mind. In stories, warriors took the spoils of their hunts or claimed trophies through conquest. Luna would have loved that comparison.
"In the name of the Mother, let it be known—the serpent is no more, and its remains shall serve the hand that struck it down." He said jokingly lifting the sword. His magic heated through him as though in agreement with his claim.
How the hell am I going to get the sword out of here without anyone knowing?
Realisation struck him, and he groaned, smacking his forehead. "I'm an idiot."
Summoning the energy he had left, he called, "Tilly!"
With a pop, his house-elf appeared, her wide eyes immediately locking onto him before filling with horror after glimpsing the basilisk. "Master Harry! You is hurt! What has you been doing!"
"I'll live," he assured her, wincing as he shifted. "But I need you to take something."
He held out the sword. "Be very careful—there's basilisk venom on the blade. Hide it at the cottage."
Tilly hesitated, torn between tending to him and following orders, but finally took the weapon with reverence. "Tilly will keep it safe. Tilly will take Master Harry from this place."
"Best not Tilly, I'm not alone and we can't have anyone see you." Harry said, exhaling. "Now go, before anyone sees you."
The moment she vanished, he heard voices from the tunnel.
"Harry?!"
Ron's voice echoed through the chamber, followed by Lockhart's more confused muttering. Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Of course."
Ginny let out a soft groan, her eyelids fluttering.
"Welcome back, Weasley," Harry muttered dryly, pushing himself to his feet.
Fawkes trilled again, spreading his wings. Harry knew what that meant. It was time to leave.
With Ron's help, he gently pulled Ginny up, and together, they took hold of the phoenix.
And with a burst of golden fire, they rose out of the darkness, leaving the Chamber of Secrets behind.
~
Harry barely had time to process what had happened before Professor McGonagall descended upon him, her face red with fury and disbelief. She grabbed his shoulder, steering him firmly through the corridors of Hogwarts instead of the infirmary. "To the Headmaster's office. Now."
As they walked, Harry spoke in a controlled voice. "Professor, you should know that Ron came to the common room claiming you had requested me. Then he forced me to go with him, held Lockhart at wand point, and made me open the Chamber of Secrets. He pushed me in right after Lockhart, where I then had to fight a basilisk." He gave her a pointed look. "I sincerely hope Weasley will be punished for his part in this." Happily throwing Ron under the bus.
McGonagall's mouth thinned, her grip tightening momentarily before she exhaled. "Mr. Weasley's actions were reckless, and rest assured, he will be dealt with." She hesitated, then added in a lower voice, "I owe you an apology, Potter. I dismissed your concerns about the Basilisk. I should have listened."
Harry nodded sharply but didn't say anything. He had been right, but being right didn't make up for the people who had been hurt because she hadn't listened.
When they reached the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office, McGonagall muttered the password, and the statue leapt aside. She gave him one last look before gesturing for him to ascend the stairs alone.
Harry climbed steadily, his stomach twisting in irritation. He had barely gotten rid of Dumbledore, and now the old man was back in his throne-like chair, waiting for him.
Fawkes trilled softly from his perch as Harry entered, but he barely spared the phoenix a glance. His focus was on Dumbledore, who watched him with those twinkling, unreadable blue eyes.
Beware the Phoenix, Harry.
"Quite the adventure, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said smoothly, folding his hands on his desk. "Would you care to explain what happened?"
Harry schooled his expression into one of nervous discomfort, choosing his words carefully. "The diary—it had him in it. The Dark Lord, when he was young. He was controlling Ginny Weasley, making her do things. There was a basilisk and I had to stab it through the mouth."
Dumbledore leaned forward, sharp as ever. "And what did he say to you, Harry?"
Harry hesitated, making sure to avoid looking directly at Dumbledore. "Not much. Just that he was a memory and wanted to come back. Things that Ginny told him. I stabbed the diary with a basilisk fang, and he disappeared."
He deliberately left out how Tom had treated him—how the other boy had whispered his name with reverence, how he had wanted Harry by his side.
Dumbledore's gaze was heavy. "I see." He let a moment of silence pass before his tone became more measured. "And the sword, Harry? The Sword of Gryffindor?"
Harry kept his face as neutral as possible. "It disappeared after I stabbed the Basilisk. I couldn't find it."
A flicker of frustration crossed Dumbledore's face, but he quickly schooled his features. "That is unfortunate."
Before Harry could reply, the office door banged open, and Lucius Malfoy strode in, his cane tapping against the stone floor. Dobby scurried in behind him, looking frightened.
"Dumbledore," Malfoy sneered. "Back so soon, I see."
Dumbledore inclined his head. "Indeed, Lucius. It seems the crisis has been resolved."
Malfoy's eyes flickered to Harry, cold and calculating. "And who, exactly, is responsible for this mess?"
"That would be a diary that was slipped into Ginny Weasley's possession, probably when she was in Flourish and Blotts." Harry said flatly, crossing his arms.
Malfoy's expression darkened. "I don't know what you're talking about. This isn't over Dumbledore." Giving one last glare to them both he span around and stormed back out.
The air was filled with tension before Harry suddenly turned to Dumbledore, a new plan forming in his mind. "Sir, I'd like to borrow the diary."
Dumbledore studied him for a moment before nodding and sliding the damaged diary across the desk. Harry snatched it up, slipping off one of his socks discreetly and stuffing it inside the ruined book. He hurried down the stairs catching up to Malfoy, shouting his name causing him to turn around.
Then, without warning, he shoved the diary into Malfoy's chest. "I believe this belongs to you."
Malfoy's eyes flared with anger as he instinctively threw the diary aside. "I have no knowledge of—"
The book landed in Dobby's trembling hands. The little house-elf froze, eyes wide, before looking down in shock.
A slow, dawning realisation crossed his face as he lifted the sock from the pages.
Harry barely had time to step back before Dobby straightened, magic crackling in the air around him. Malfoy's eyes widened as he realised what he had just done.
"You freed me, Master has given Dobby a sock…Dobby is a free elf!" Dobby whispered, his voice shaking with something between awe and excitement.
Malfoy took a step forward, his face contorted with rage, lifting his wand. "You little—"
With a snap of his fingers, Dobby blasted Lucius Malfoy off his feet, sending him crashing into the wall with a heavy thud.
Harry's eyes widened, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Nice one, Dobby."
The house-elf turned to him, tears welling in his enormous eyes. "Master Harry Potter is great and kind! Dobby is forever grateful!"
Malfoy groaned, picking himself up with a glare that promised retribution. But with Dobby standing protectively in front of Harry, he knew he had no ground to stand on.
Adjusting his robes with as much dignity as he could muster, he spat, "This isn't over, Potter."
"Oh, I'm sure," Harry replied dryly.
With one final glare, Malfoy stormed from the hallway, slamming the door behind him.
Dobby turned back to Harry, beaming. "Dobby will never forget this!"
Harry nodded, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. "You take care of yourself, alright?"
Dobby sniffled before vanishing with a pop.
Harry barely had time to take a breath as he stepped into the Ravenclaw common room before he was suddenly collided into. A blur of blonde hair and soft robes enveloped him, and for a moment, all he could hear was the muffled sound of Luna sobbing against his chest.
"You're alive!" she cried, her fingers gripping his robes tightly. "You changed it, Harry. The vision—it changed! You changed your fate!"
Harry stiffened for a moment, absorbing her words, before carefully wrapping his arms around her. He felt the shudders wracking her small frame, heard the way her breath hitched between her words.
"I—Luna, I'm fine," he said, though the words felt hollow even to him.
She pulled back abruptly, her normally dreamy gaze burning with anger. "Fine?!" she snapped, swiping at her wet cheeks before glaring at him. "You died, Harry! Over and over—I saw it! And then you were gone! Do you have any idea what it was like watching that happen?!"
Harry blinked, thrown off by her intensity. He had never seen Luna so shaken before. Before he could respond, she seized his wrist and dragged him toward the exit.
"What are you—?"
"Taking you to the infirmary. You need to be checked out. I won't have you collapsing on me just because you think you can handle everything alone."
There was no room for argument. Luna's grip was surprisingly strong, and Harry let himself be pulled through the corridors, his exhaustion weighing heavier with each step. When they finally arrived at the hospital wing, they were greeted by the last people Harry wanted to see.
Mrs. Weasley and her husband were standing with Ron and Ginny. The moment Molly Weasley laid eyes on him, she let out a strangled sob and launched herself at him, squeezing him so tightly he could barely breathe.
"Oh, Harry! You brave, wonderful boy! You saved my little girl! You're such a good friend to my children!"
Something inside Harry snapped.
With a sharp exhale, he pushed her away—firmly but not harshly—and took a step back, his expression cold.
"No, I'm not," he said flatly, his voice devoid of any warmth. "I saved Ginny because it was the only thing I could do. I had no intention of going to find the chamber of secrets. I certainly don't want to be dragged into your family's obsession with me."
Molly reeled back as if struck. "Harry, dear, what—"
"I'm not your son," he cut in, eyes flashing. "And I don't want to be, so please stop acting so familiar. Do you have any idea what Ron did? He lied about McGonagall asking for me. He dragged me down there with Lockhart at wand point, shoved me into a death trap, and abandoned me to fight a thousand-year-old monster alone."
Molly turned toward Ron in shock, but before she could say anything, Harry pressed on.
"I want both of you to leave me alone in the future," he said, levelling his gaze at Ginny and Ron both. "You are obsessive. You make me uncomfortable. I want nothing to do with either of you."
Ron's face was bright red, his hands clenched into fists. "That's not fair!"
"No, Ron, it's more than fair," a new voice interjected. Mr. Weasley stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he studied Harry carefully. Then he turned to his wife. "Molly, Harry's right. He has no obligation to this family."
"Arthur!" Molly gasped, but he shook his head.
"No, Molly. We have to respect his wishes."
Harry gave Mr. Weasley a brief nod before turning away. "I need to get checked out now. Excuse me."
Madam Pomfrey ran diagnostic spells over him and, despite everything, declared him in remarkably good health, save for magical exhaustion. She instructed him to rest, but he and Luna were already moving before she could argue further.
Once back in their warded room, Harry felt the last of his strength slip away. He sank onto the couch, running a hand through his hair, breathing unevenly. "I feel like I lost something," he admitted quietly. "Like something was ripped away."
Luna curled up beside him, her fingers lightly resting against his sleeve. "Tell me everything."
And so, he did. He told her about Tom—how he had looked at him, spoken to him. How he had wanted him. How, despite knowing the diary was evil, it had called to him. How hard it had been to resist, to stop himself from giving in.
"It felt like—like my soul was reaching for him," Harry confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Like it would have been so easy to just—let go and belong to him."
Luna let out a choked sob. "I know, Harry. I know. I was screaming for you. I saw it. I felt it." She covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking. "I saw you hear me. And I was so scared you wouldn't listen."
Harry turned to her, eyes stinging, and before he knew it, they were clinging to each other, tears silently slipping down both their faces.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.
"Me too," she murmured back.
They stayed that way for a long time, neither speaking, just breathing, just existing in each other's space.
"You changed your fate," she whispered.
He exhaled. "Yeah," he said, nodding slowly. "I guess I did."
The day after defeating the Basilisk, it seemed that the entire castle knew what had happened. Whispers followed Harry wherever he went, students stealing glances at him with a mixture of awe and curiosity. He had expected as much, but what he hadn't expected was Ron loudly embellishing the tale at the Gryffindor table, making himself sound like the hero of the entire ordeal.
"Yeah, well, you see," Ron was boasting loudly to a group of first years, "it was all a bit touch and go. I had to take charge, obviously. Had to make sure Lockhart didn't mess things up too much, you know? Harry and I went down into the Chamber together—real dangerous, of course—but I kept my cool."
Harry rolled his eyes, not bothering to stop and correct him. He didn't have to—Luna had already told Neville, Blaise, and Theo the real version of events, and the truth had spread faster than any of Ron's exaggerations. By breakfast, most of the student body knew exactly what had happened: that Ron had forced Harry to go with him under false pretences, pushed him into the Chamber, and done nothing to help him once they were down there.
Now, Ron's grand retelling was being met with sceptical looks, and more than one student was outright ignoring him. The Slytherins, in particular, looked amused, while several Ravenclaws whispered amongst themselves, casting glances at Harry with a mixture of admiration and wariness.
At the Gryffindor table, Ginny Weasley was making cow eyes at Harry, her gaze practically glued to him. Every few minutes, she would sigh wistfully, her cheeks turning pink whenever their eyes so much as met across the hall. Worse still, she was glaring daggers at Luna, who sat comfortably beside him, completely unbothered by the Weasley girl's simmering jealousy. The others had decided to sit with them at the Ravenclaw table and looked slightly amused.
"She keeps looking at you like you're some knight in shining armour," Theo murmured over his goblet of pumpkin juice, smirking. "How tragic."
"Not interested," Harry muttered back, stabbing his fork into his eggs. "And she needs to stop glaring at Luna."
Neville snorted. "Good luck with that. After what you did, you're basically a legend now."
Harry groaned. That was the last thing he wanted. He'd had enough of being famous for things he barely had any control over. But the attention didn't seem like it was going to fade anytime soon.
The only bright spot was that the Mandrakes had finally matured, and their potion was ready. Later that afternoon, the petrified students were revived, the effects of the Basilisk undone at last.
As the day wore on, the celebratory atmosphere only grew, but Harry found himself growing more withdrawn, the weight of everything settling in his chest. He knew he should be happy—it was over, everyone was safe—but something still felt off.
Luna noticed, of course. She always did.
She leaned close to him as they made their way to the Ravenclaw common room later that evening, her voice soft. "You're still thinking about him."
Harry exhaled slowly, glancing at her. "Yeah."
She didn't press him, simply slipping her hand into his, offering comfort in the way only she could.
For now, it was enough.
~
A few weeks later, as the Hogwarts Express rumbled along the tracks back to London, Harry sat in a compartment with Luna and the others. The atmosphere was light, the weight of the past weeks easing slightly as they settled into the familiar rhythm of the train ride home.
Blaise leaned back, eyeing Harry with curiosity. "So, what are you going to do with the Basilisk? That thing's worth a fortune."
Theo smirked. "Since you slayed it, it's yours, mate. That's how it works."
Harry raised an eyebrow before shrugging. "I guess it is. I claimed it in the name of the Mother, so it's mine to sell if I want." He drummed his fingers against the seat. "I'll talk to Grimbok about it, see what can be done."
Neville let out a low whistle. "Even just the venom is insanely valuable. You're sitting on a small fortune just from that."
Luna, who had been listening quietly, smiled. "And you should take us to see it sometime. I'd love to see a Basilisk up close—well, a dead one."
Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I can ask Tilly to take us down at some point. Should be interesting."
The conversation lifted his spirits somewhat, distracting him from the lingering exhaustion of everything that had happened. He let himself relax, closing his eyes and resting his head on the seat.
Then, just as he was beginning to finally push the memories of the Chamber away, a whisper curled around the edges of his mind, as if it was being whispered into his ear.
You belong with me, Harry.
Harry stiffened, his breath catching. His eyes flicked his side desperately, but all he saw staring back at him was his own reflection.
A shiver ran down his spine.
He said nothing.