Still alive
Harry sat in the bed for a few minutes, wondering where he was. He couldn't move his arm, where the cut had been stitched together, and he couldn't bear to let himself follow it as the cut grew larger, for the sight made him nauseous-- and he couldn't move his head around to see where his glasses were. Suddenly, they had been placed delicately on his face. He blinked a couple times, and he was quite overjoyed to see Padma and Luna standing at his bedside. For a moment, he thought he was imaging it-- but they were very real, and not Petrified in the slightest.
"Hi Harry. Here, have some water," said Luna, smiling and handing him a glass of water from his bedside table, and Padma looked to have been fighting back tears.
"Don't mind me-- I- I said I wouldn't cry, now look at me." She said, and Luna patted her on the back. "We sneak in here, like, everyday. Lisa's normally with us, but I think she got overwhelmed after a while."
"Why would--?" Harry asked, coughing on his own words.
"You shouldn't speak for now. Magic can only do so much when you're healing an injury like this." said Luna.
Padma nodded. "And I mean, well... you've been out of it for almost two weeks. The adults have been beginning to think you'll have to be moved to a Muggle hospital, since you've already been to St. Mungo's and back. There's this one nurse that hasn't left yet, y'know, just incase. And even weirder-- it's like, while you've been asleep, your body's been rejecting all the magic trying to heal you. Look at that-- your cuts are healing much quicker now that you're awake.... Oh, Luna, go tell Madam Pomfrey he's up."
Harry looked around, ignoring the slight ringing in his ears; There were atleast three tubes going into his arm, presumably pumping blood, and a cord up his nose. He was covered in bandages. A heart monitor was beating loudly beside him.
"Yeah, they had to bring in a lot," Padma said, nodding. "I'm surprised it's all working properly. Honestly, we're lucky that we even got unpetrified with how many mediwitches and mediwizards were in here. We're even luckier that you're okay. Thought you'd be out for months."
Luna returned, Madam Pomfrey and a cheerful-looking redheaded woman following. She must've been the nurse that was staying.
"Here, Potter, that should help with any excess pain," Madam Pomfrey said, handing him a small vial the nurse handed her. He downed it without a second thought. The ringing had gone away. "You two should get to breakfast. Mr Potter has a lot resting to do."
"But Madam Pomfrey, he's been resting for two entire weeks! Can't we atleast speak with him for a little while?" Padma asked.
"Eurgh," Madam Pomfrey groaned. "You may stay with him until Professor Dumbledore arrives. Only because Merlin knows this boy won't rest even if you leave." Padma didn't take a moment to stand back at Harry's bedside, and Luna had been clapping happily.
"Do please try to refrain from movement-- you're healing much quicker now, but you still have wounds that are open." said the redheaded nurse as Madam Pomfrey went back to where she came from. "If you'd lend me your arm, dear... I need to change your bandages..."
Padma, and Luna kept up conversation while the nurse changed the bandages on his arm, them explaining everything that had happened while he was out. And once the nurse finished, he'd, which much effort, told them about how he and Lisa had become Animagi-- Luna was laughing loudly at something Padma had said when Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore entered the Hospital wing.
"Oh no," said Padma sadly. "We'll see you later, Slysnout."
They disappeared through the doors before Dumbledore had even closed them.
"Potter, glad to see that you're awake and alright," said Professor McGonagall, pressing her hand softly on his shoulder.
"As am I, Harry." said Dumbledore, smiling broadly. "And first of all-- very impressive that you managed to summon Fawkes all on your own. It's mainly thanks to his tears that you didn't die in that Chamber."
"P‐ Professor, I met Tom Riddle.... He said..." Harry tried, but Dumbledore shushed him. "Don't strain yourself, Harry. So, you met Tom... I imagine he was most interested in you."
Harry nodded. "He said I'm like him," he mustered out.
"Did he now? Well, I disagree. You are much more diligent than Tom. From what I can tell... you chose your House, yes? So to say, Tom let his House choose him." Dumbledore explained. "He was once brilliant. He could've had a bright future... but he lost the chance in his madness. But Harry, my boy, you choose your own traits. You're much more courageous than many Gryffindors, if you ask me," he added, to which Professor McGonagall smiled, "But Harry, you have a very special gift."
Harry looked up, and pointed at his throat-- luckily, speaking in Parseltongue didn't feel the same as speaking. Dumbledore nodded. "Parseltongue, as you know, is a trait Salazar Slytherin favoured in his students. But it is not a trait only he possesses. It was once common, in other countries... but Voldemort himself handled that. But you'll know, being able to speak it does not make you any more Slytherin than a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor, or even a Slytherin. Being different does not put you in a different crowd; Resourcefulness, determination, ambition... nonetheless.. You are as you as you can be."
"Thank you for that, Albus." said McGonagall, standing. "Now, Potter, you need some food and sleep. I'll tell Poppy to bring you food from the feast."
"Meanwhile, I will write to Azkaban-- we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too," Dumbledore added thoughtfully. "We'll be needing a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.. Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?" He said, and McGonagall chuckled at that, agreeing, before she left.
Dumbledore paused, looking at Harry very seriously. "Had you not saved the school, Mr Potter, you would be facing expulsion. You do realise--"
"My actions have consequences," Harry forced out. "I thought I'd rather die protecting the school than never come back. We were- were going to tell the teachers, but then Ginny was in the chamber, and--"
"And I applaud you for taking the initiative. Truly. But I insist you never risk your life for something you must not. I implore you leave it to the adults. It is not a child's place, fighting a battle against a creature such as a Basilisk-- it is not a child's place at all, to fight for their life in such a way, if at all. That, I'm afraid, is what the teachers are for."
When Harry didn't speak, Dumbledore stood and turned to leave.
"Sir, wait, I," Harry coughed. He'd wanted to tell Dumbledore about the Dursleys, but...
"Er... nevermind. I forgot-- what it was."
Dumbledore crossed to the door. Just as he reached for the handle, the door flew open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.
Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, wearing a brand new suit, was Dobby.
"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly, backing away from the door.
It seemed Mr Malfoy felt otherwise-- or, he looked like he did. His long hair was dishevelled and his shoes were half-polished, mud and dirt picking at the edges, and the suit he had been wearing was incredibly crumpled and wrinkled.
"Dumbledore," He spat. "The governors suspended you, but you still saw it fit to return to Hogwarts."
"Well, you see, Lucius," said Dumbledore, smiling serenely, "The other eleven governors contacted me last week-- I assumed they informed you by now. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all, seeing as nobody had been found in a state as such when I was here..."
"They said nothing," Mr Malfoy sneered. "My son informed me. So-- have you stopped the attacks yet? Have you caught the culprit?"
"We have," said Dumbledore, with a smile.
"Well?" said Mr Malfoy sharply. "Who is it?"
"The same person as last time, Lucius," said Dumbledore. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."
He held up the small black book with the large hole burnt through the center, watching Mr Malfoy closely. Harry, however, was watching Dobby with a blank face.
The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.
"I see..." said Mr Malfoy slowly to Dumbledore.
"A clever plan," said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Mr Malfoy straight in the eye. "Because if Harry--" Mr Malfoy shot Harry a swift, sharp look, "-- and his friends, a group of which happens to include your own son, hadn't discovered this book, why, Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't she hadn't acted of her own free will..."
Mr Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly masklike and remarkably pale. Harry had seen the look on Draco enough to know it very well-- he had been caught in his own trick.
"And imagine," Dumbledore went on, "what might have happened then... the Weasleys are one of our most prominent Pureblood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and trying to kill her peers... Muggle-borns included. Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been for the poor girl otherwise."
Mr Malfoy forced himself to speak.
"How very fortunate," he said stiffly.
And still, behind his back, Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head.
And Harry, faced with the opportunity, as both Dumbledore and Mr Malfoy were silent, spoke.
"Don't you want-- don't you want to know how she got ahold of the diary in the first place, Mr Malfoy?" he asked, clearing his throat.
Lucius Malfoy rounded on him.
"How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" he said.
"Well, because you gave it to her," said Harry. "In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside her cauldron with it, didn't you? Or, was that not what you did?"
He saw Mr Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench, but Harry wasn't deterred by it. He was right.
"Prove it," he hissed.
"Oh, no one will be able to do that," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. "Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you...."
Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf.
"Dobby! We're leaving!"
"Don't you want the diary back, sir? It was yours before all of this happened." asked Harry, only slightly trying to irritate Mr Malfoy further.
"No."
Mr Malfoy spoke sharply, not taking a moment longer to stay in the Hospital wing. Harry watched with a weird feeling in his chest. If that became Draco one day, he may just have to never speak with him again.
Harry hadn't been at the Feast, but he didn't mind; his friends had come to visit him, and had thrown a bit of a feast for themselves. Harry wasn't sure why Madam Pomfrey hadn't stopped them, but the thought didn't cross his mind more than that once as he ate cobbler and drank apple juice.
Hermione had even managed to sneak Hydrus into their "party", and none of them were surprised to see him slither up to Harry and place himself on Harry's shoulders imperiously, looking like he'd bite anyone who got too close. Infact, they found it quite funny.
"She refused to listen to anything," Hydrus hissed, and Harry supposed he meant the basilisk. "Said she'd only ssserve one master and her massster ssaid not to listen to anyone else. And she always went ssilent when I tried to make you hear her... ssshe was bossssy anyways. Yess, how much greater she is than us all, following her masster's orders without fail... very great, when sshe's dead... I wisssh she knew it was my sssnake who killed her..."
Harry thought he'd done a fine job trying to teach Hydrus to atleast be respectful, but he could only do so much.
"It's a real shame," said Ron, eating a jam doughnut, "I hear Lockhart's going to be leaving as Professor to go regain his memories. He was really starting to grow on me, you know."
"If he does return, I hope doesn't even last a single term." Draco added. He had been a bit gloomy at first-- his father had quit his job as a School Governor and joined his wife in Ministry work, which Harry was admittedly pleased to hear. After just a few minutes, though, and maybe only one argument and a single conveniently placed frown, Draco had finally relaxed and was laughing along with them; It put Harry at ease. He'd even passed Harry some treacle tart, muttering, "You like those, don't you?"
"I hope he doesn't return." said Padma, swirling her pudding angrily. "You know, out of shame. For faking doing all that stuff."
"Truly," agreed Hermione, red-faced. "it's horrible."
Lisa and Luna both giggled very loudly. "They're just mad because they had massive crushes on him,"
"Did not!" Padma snapped, while Hermione went even redder, "He was a total deadbeat of a Professor, as if I'd like him! You can't imagine how happy I was to hear that he wasn't going to be back anytime soon!"
"Sure you were."
Classes passed by like normal, exams having been cancelled, but Harry had spent his days in the Hospital wing healing, more often than not, sleeping. The redheaded nurse, Ms Azalea, was the one taking care of him considering that Madam Pomfrey had other people that needed help. She was really nice-- she didn't even chase out Hydrus or Sly.
Soon enough, Harry had been dispatched from the Infirmary, and it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Padma, Lisa, and Ron got a compartment to themselves, as Luna had gone to sit with Ginny and Neville, who'd invited her prior; But she and Ginny were still both constantly popping in the doorway, Ginny very cheerful and no longer sickly and anxious. Harry thought she was very pretty, when she wasn't fretting over something. They made the most of the last few hours they had before they wouldn't get to see eachother again. They played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Fred and George's Filibuster fireworks(which Ginny had stolen and given to them), and talked about how their summers would go. Harry had even gotten to meet Ulysses, Draco's eagle owl.
They were almost at King's Cross when Harry suddenly remembered something.
"Ginny-- what did you see Percy doing that he didn't want you to tell anyone?" he asked the next time she and Luna poked their heads in.
"Oh, that," said Ginny, giggling, and Luna had stepped out to have a laughing-fit. "Well--good ol' Perse has got a boyfriend."
"What?" shouted Ron, shocked.
"It's that Oliver Wood!" said Ginny. "That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting him all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so embarrassed when I saw them-- he even came up with some pitiful excuse... private lessons-- Oliver's grades were too low from all the Quidditch practice he did, and they'd gotten- ha- distracted... unbelievable! Oh, you won't tease him about it, will you?" she added anxiously. "He'll know I told you, and I'll never hear the end of it."
"'Course not, Ginny," said Padma, a large smile on her face.
"Wouldn't dream of it," added Lisa, an identical one on her own.
The Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped.
Harry pulled out his quill and a bit of parchment and wrote on it as quickly as he could.
"This is called a telephone number," he told them, scribbling it six times, tearing the parchment into sixths, and handing it to them. "I told Mr Weasley how to use a telephone last summer-- he'll know. Call me at the Dursleys. Dray, Padma, do you know what phones are?" Either one shook their heads. Well, you couldn't have them all. "Atleast I'll have someone to hope for a call from. I can't stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to..."
"You aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?" asked Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. "When they hear what you did this year?"
"Proud?" Harry repeated. "Are you crazy? They'll be furious I didn't bite the dust."
"You should really tell Dumbledore," said Lisa, and she nudged his shoulder. "If you don't do it next year, I'm doing it for you. Your aunt and uncle suck."
And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.