Hermione stepped around the three boys once they reached Hagrid’s hut and knocked on the door. Draco called out, “Hagrid! Open up!”

Hagrid opened the door at once, looking extremely relieved at the sight of them standing on his doorstep.

“Been wondering when you’d finally come to visit! Thought you were Lockhart again.” Hari and Draco didn’t reply, dragging Ron over the threshold as he coughed up more slugs. “Blimey! What happened to Ron?” he asked, grabbing a metal bucket from nearby and shoving it at Ron as he dropped shakily into a chair.

Hari quickly explained Ron’s slug problem as Draco rubbed Ron’s back as slugs continued to drop out of his mouth into the basin and Hermione watched sympathetically.

“It shouldn’t take too long to stop. It’s a complex spell when your wand is functioning never mind Ron’s,” explained Hermione, taking a seat at the table as well.

“Who were you trying to curse, Ron?” asked Hagrid, setting out three mugs of tea for Hari, Draco and Hermione.

Draco and Ron both looked to Hari to reply. “The Slytherin captain Marcus Flint called Hermione a ‘Mudblood’, Hagrid,” explained Hari, frowning.

Ron nodded weakly before diving down at another slug attack. Hagrid looked outraged.

“He didn’t!”

Hermione nodded, blowing the steam on her drink. “He did. But I don’t really understand what it means. Obviously it was really bad from everyone’s reactions but—”

“It was the harshest slur he could think of,” gasped Ron, looking up from his bucket. “It’s a foul insult for Muggleborns.” He gave a short burp and a slightly smaller slug plopped into the bucket with the rest of them.

“It means dirty blood,” added Draco seriously. “Certain pure-bloods think they’re more superior just because they’re pure-bloods, like my father and other Death Eaters, but it’s bullshit. As you prove constantly.”

“They haven’t invented a spell our Hermione can’t do,” said Hagrid, grinning. Hermione ducked her head, one of her braids falling into her face.

“Yeah, like Draco and Hagrid said, it’s not even remotely true,” added Hari, finally managing to uncement his teeth from one of Hagrid’s homemade sweets. “Most people are half-bloods these days anyway, like me. We’d have died out otherwise.”

Hagrid nodded as Ron retched again. “Well, I can’t blame your cursing him, Ron,” said Hagrid over the loud splattering of slugs in the basin. “Though, it’s almost a miracle it backfired. I don’t think McGonagall’d be too pleased if you were in trouble again.”

They fell into comfortable silence, only broken by Ron’s periodic retching and the slugs in the basin. Hari sipped on his tea, watching Draco rub Ron’s back and meticulously avoiding looking at Hari. He was looking all over the inside of the hut, looking anywhere but at him. Hari huffed frustratedly, wishing Draco would just talk to him again. Not even Ron’s slug problem was helping calm their issues.

“Hari,” said Hagrid abruptly after the silence went on for too long, “I heard you’re givin’ out signed photos. How come you haven’t given me one?”

“I have not been giving out signed photos,” he snapped, face hot. “If Lockhart told you that—”

Hagrid chortled, patting Hari on the back so that he almost fell off his seat. “I’m just pulling your leg, Hari. I figured you weren’t really,” he said genially. “I told Lockhart you don’t need signed photos anyway. You’re more famous than him.”

Draco snorted, but tried to cover it up as Hari turned abruptly to him. “I’m guessing he didn’t like that, Lockhart?” said Hari, looking away from Draco.

“Don’t imagine he did. Left right after when I said I’d never read one of his books.”

As Hari, Draco and Hermione finished the last of their tea and Ron stopped throwing up slugs as often, Hagrid took them outside to look at his pumpkins he was growing for the Halloween feast. Hari caught sight of the pink umbrella he suspected his wand was inside, knowing Hagrid wasn’t technically allowed to do magic since he was expelled from Hogwarts. Hari had never asked Hagrid about being expelled, knowing that it was a sensitive topic that he rarely liked to talk about.

“Well, you did a great job with the Engorgement charm,” Hermione said, somewhere between disapproval and amusement.

“That’s what your little sister said yesterday, Ron,” replied Hagrid, looking at Ron with a smile. “Met her just yesterday. Lovely girl, she is.” Hagrid looked at Hari, beard twitching and his dark eyes glinting. “I reckon she wouldn’t say no to a signed photo, Hari.”

Hari groaned as Ron snorted slugs on the ground and Draco stiffened slightly. “Shut up,” Hari snapped.

They left Hagrid’s hut shortly after, making their way up to lunch together. Hari, who hadn’t eaten since early morning, was keen to get food. Thankfully, Ron had stopped throwing up slugs and was much less sickly green. He managed to get through his lunch without another slug attack and then they made their way back to the common room to spend the last hours before they had to serve their detention.

¤¤¤

Trudging his feet, Hari said goodbye as Ron headed to the trophy room and Draco headed to the dungeons to help Professor Snape restock his potions cupboard. Hari tried to take as long as possible to get to Lockhart’s classroom, shoulders slumped as he walked the long way to get to the Defence office. Finally, he knocked lightly on the door, wishing he was anywhere else.

The door swung open instantly and Hari was confronted by the jaunty pearly white smile and ridiculously golden hair of Lockhart. “There he is! Come on in, Hari!” he sang, opening the door wide.

Hari said nothing and stepped into the room. He dropped into the seat by Lockhart’s desk that he indicated and looked around. The office was filled with various paintings of Lockhart in various colourful outfits and locations, all beaming down at Hari from inside their frames. There was a large stack of copies of Magical Me on his desk, also showing Lockhart’s smiling face. The real Lockhart, dressed in robes of vivid red with a matching hat, sat down at his desk and pulled out a large stack of envelopes.

“You can address the envelopes!” he exclaimed brightly, “This first one is from Gladys Gudgeon. Such a sweetheart, sends me a letter almost monthly…”

Hari zoned out of Lockhart’s drivel instantly, letting his mind wander to more interesting subjects as he copied out the different addresses on each envelope. He occasionally nodded or hummed vaguely to pretend he was listening, periodically looking up at the purple clock hanging on the wall. The hours seemed to crawl by as if the clock was stuck, time moving through extra thick molasses. Lockhart’s prattle turned into a sort of white noise in Hari’s ears, a distant buzz that was easily masked by the thoughts of Quidditch and book characters and conversations he remembered from his friends.

Hours later, Hari’s hand ached from writing out names and addresses. He was just about to check the time again, wondering when exactly he could leave, when a high and cold voice completely unlike Lockhart’s startled him from his thoughts.

“Come… come to me… let me rip you… let me kill you…”

Hari jumped at the sound, knocking the bottle of lilac ink onto the table.

“What?” Hari blurted, looking around the room for whatever made that noise.

“I know!” said Lockhart, still beaming. “It was at the top of the best sellers list for six months! Absolute record breaker!”

Hari shook his head vigorously, frowning. “No,” he said frantically, “That voice! Didn’t you hear it?”

Lockhart’s smile turned into one of shock and he blinked bewilderedly at Hari. “I beg your pardon? What voice? Perhaps you’re just getting a little tired?” He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Great Merlin! It’s been four hours! Silly me, letting the time get away from us! You know what they say about time flying.”

Hari didn’t reply. As he was ushered out of the office, Hari made his way to Gryffindor tower with a frown. Had Lockhart really not heard that voice? He knew he had really heard it, even if he was feeling pretty tired, so why couldn’t Lockhart hear it either? What if Lockhart was lying and really heard it?

Questions circled in Hari’s mind the whole way up to Gryffindor tower. The common room was entirely deserted by the time he got back, the fire in the hearth only a few last smoldering bits of orange. Hari went straight up to the dormitory.

Draco was the only one awake when he got upstairs and Ron was still not back yet. When the door opened, Draco glanced over his shoulder for just a second before turning back to where he was bent over his trunk. Hari huffed at being snubbed again and moved to his bed to sit up and wait for Ron.

Ron finally arrived, looking exhausted, slightly sweaty and hunched. He flopped onto his bed, groaning dramatically.

“How’d detention go, Ron?” Draco asked from his bed where he was sitting with a book open in front of him. He was wearing an amused smirk as he looked at Ron continuing to scowl up at the ceiling.

“Exhausting. Filch made me clean this one plaque about 12 times because I had another slug attack and got slime on it,” Ron complained, sitting up and going over to get dressed. “What about you guys? Snape and Lockhart didn’t give you too much trouble, did they?”

Draco shrugged, marking the place in his book. “Not too bad, actually. He just had me sorting out the different jars of new potions ingredients he got in recently,” Draco replied, looking directly at Ron. “It was a little awkward at first, obviously, after last year… But we started talking again after a while.”

“How was that?” asked Hari hopefully.

Draco still didn’t look at him even as he answered Hari’s question. “It was nice, actually. He sort of apologised for being so distant last year and said he was sorry about how badly my father took me getting into Gryffindor. It was good to talk to him again after so long.” He was looking at a small patch on his blanket, a tiny smile creeping onto his lips.

“That’s great!” said Ron, leaning over to slap Draco on the back. He turned to Hari. “What about you, Hari? How was Lockhart?”

Careful not to wake the others, Hari told them both the whole story about the creepy voice he overheard, but that Lockhart appeared not to have heard. When he finished his story, both Ron and Draco were gaping at him, frowning in the moonlight.

“And you’re sure Lockhart wasn’t just lying about not hearing the voice?” Ron asked. “It’s pretty weird though. Even someone invisible would need to open the door, as we know. I just don’t get how he wouldn’t hear it.”

“So you don’t think I was just hearing things? Or that I’ve just lost my mind and thought I could hear something that wasn’t there?” Hari fumbled with his bedsheets, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He glanced nervously up at his friends, scared of their replies.

“Definitely not,” said Draco immediately, surprising both Hari and Ron. Even in the darkness, Hari could read the determination in his pale face. “You’re not crazy, Hari, okay? There must be some logical explanation for how you could hear the voice but Lockhart couldn’t.” He looked directly at Hari now, gaze boring directly into Hari and he could feel Draco’s utmost certainty radiating off him. “Just because we can’t find a logical explanation yet doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

Ron nodded faintly. “Draco’s right, Hari,” he said, “If anything, this just proves that Lockhart’s probably even more of a fake than we thought.”

¤¤¤

September slipped into October, covering the grounds in early morning dew and bringing a surge of students and staff alike getting sick. There was an almost endless stream of people going up to the hospital, returning with their ears steaming from Pepperup Potion. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking increasingly greyer and worn down, was made to take some by her older brothers, looking as though she was on fire as the smoke came out through her long fiery red hair.

Thankfully, Draco had stopped ignoring Hari again after their nights of detention. Hari, who was never great at confrontations or talking about his feelings, was all too happy to move on and go back to their usual friendship. Of course, he knew Draco was still probably jealous about not getting to be the new Seeker, but Draco insisted he didn’t hold it against him.

As Halloween came around, the whole school was looking forward to the upcoming feast with rumours going around about Dumbledore booking dancing skeletons to come to school. The Great Hall was decorated fantastically with Hagrid’s massive pumpkins that grew to the size of a small car and real bats were set flying around the ceiling overhead.

On Halloween morning, Wood had Hari and the rest of the Gryffindors out on the pitch for another long day of practising. They had a rigorous and exhausting training session with passing the quaffle back and forth while weaving through the air, racing each other up and down the pitch, dodging away from bludgers hit by George or Fred and tossing golf balls for Hari to chase after on his broom. Hari saw Draco and Ron entering the stands together a little before lunch and felt jealous as he continued to get pelted by golf balls from Fred and George.

Hari narrowly ducked from another a golf ball from Fred and zipped towards the ground hastily, barely grabbing it before it hit the ground so his legs skipped the muddy grass. As soon as he was in the air again, Hari chucked the golf ball back to Fred, rolling his eyes. “Hey, Fred! You’re supposed to throw the ball away, not directly at my face!” he called, laughing.

“Oh, Hari. When will you learn?” replied Fred, tossing the golf ball up and down in one of his hands. “You’ve known me for four years and you still haven’t caught on!”

George flew over as well, joining the conversation. “Yeah, Hari. You’ve known us ages now. It’s on you that you haven’t realised Fred is an asshole!” he joked, flying away cackling as Fred attempted to shove him midair.

“Oi! You lot! Stop mucking around!” called Wood from the other end of the field where he was practising goal scoring with the Chasers.

“Sorry, Wood!” Hari, Fred and George shouted back together.

It started to rain not long after, pelting the players and their viewers with thick sheets of rain. Hari was struggling to keep hold of his broom as he felt his broom getting slippery from the water. Soon, Hari was wet all the way through his clothes, shivering and coughing. Even after the rain eased to barely more than a light drizzle, he still felt cold and uncomfortable.

Finally, stomach grumbling and drenched in sweat, mud and rain, Hari landed back on the ground with the rest of the team. They had missed lunch by far and Hari was desperate to get out of his soaking wet clothes and into a hot shower. Hari put away his broomstick in the broomshed and said goodbye to the rest of the team as he jogged over to Draco and Ron coming out of the stands together. They were carrying a black umbrella and miraculously dry as Hari reached them, shaking his wet curls.

“That was a brutal practice, Hari,” said Ron, letting Hari join them under the umbrella and starting their ascent up to the castle together.

Hari snorted, using his hands to wring out the rain from his hair. “I’ll say. I hope our first match isn’t in this weather,” he replied. “Merlin, I’m absolutely starving. I cannot wait for the feast tonight.”

“Here, I still have half a sandwich left, if you want. It doesn’t have any meat.” Draco produced a cheese sandwich from the inside of his long black coat and offered it out to Hari. Hari’s eyes widened and he grabbed the sandwich gratefully, taking a bite immediately and thanking Draco with his mouth full.

“Did you have a sandwich with you that entire time? Even though I said I was hungry?” Ron blurted, looking offended. Hari pulled open the large door to the entrance hall and stepped inside, shoes squeaking on the stone floor.

As if summoned by the noise, Filch suddenly appeared around the corner, tailed by Mrs. Norris. When he looked at Hari, dripping wet and muddy with a trail of dirty footprints behind him, his face contorted into rage immediately. “Filth! I’ve had enough of students’ complete disregard for the upkeep of this castle!” he screamed, grabbing Hari by the arm. “You’re coming with me to my office.” Hari threw a helpless look over his shoulder at Draco and Ron as he allowed himself to be pulled away.

Filch’s office was a tiny and very cramped room with a small desk and cluttered with hundreds of boxes and drawers full of papers. It had no windows and was lit by only a small oil lamp which flickered faintly and cast dramatic shadows across the dark and grimy room. In the corner, Hari spotted a bucket with a few mops and brooms, all dirty from use. Worst of all, hanging from the ceiling were various metal contraptions of chains and spikes, clearly that of the old punishments Filch often spoke longingly about using on students once again.

Shivering, Hari watched Filch pick up a quill and an ink bottle, looking around for paper.

“Let’s see,” Filch muttered, reading allowed as he jotted down on a piece of parchment, “Name… Hari Potter… Crime… Defiling the castle…”

“It was just a bit of mud, sir! It was raining out and I had practice!”

Filch leered at him. “It might be only a bit of mud to you, but it’s extra cleaning for me!” he snarled, pointing a stubby, pale finger at Hari threateningly.

Hari huffed. “Look, I’m sorry for the mess, but I didn’t mean to—”

Suddenly, a few floors above, there was a massive crashing and splintering noise, as if something large and wooden had been dropped from an enormous height. Filch jumped, blotting the paper with droplets of ink and bellowed angrily, “PEEVES!” He dropped the quill onto the parchment and sprinted out of the room, talking to Mrs. Norris about finally getting rid of the poltergeist once and for all.

Figuring he would get into worse trouble if he tried to leave, Hari stayed put where he was standing in the middle of the small room still dripping onto the floor. He looked around the room again as he waited and suddenly caught sight of an opened envelope that read:

Kwikspell

A Correspondence Course in Beginners’ Magic

Eyes widening, Hari carefully picked up the parchment, eyes scanning the page. It was full of apparent accounts from witches and wizards that had benefited from the program and explained the details of the course that could help people learn basic magic skills. Fascinated, Hari looked through the various different courses with explanations about how to perform certain spells. He wondered why Filch would have something like this. Was Filch a Squib, perhaps? Hari was halfway through skimming a page about proper wand holding techniques when he heard quick footsteps coming his way and quickly shoved the contents back in the envelope and tossed it onto the table.

Filch burst back into the room, grinning. “We’ll be rid of Peeves after this, my sweet. That Vanishing Cabinet was extremely valuable…” He froze. Filch looked at the envelope, which Hari realised too late was a good foot away from where it last was and then back at Hari. “Did you read that?”

“No,” lied Hari quickly, heart racing.

“I wouldn’t have left you here if I knew you’d be going through my—through my friend’s private things… Should have known. Nosy students,” Filch mumbled, half to himself, twitching slightly. “Very well. Go. Get out of my office and don’t breathe a word of what you saw.”

Relieved, Hari hurried up the steps on his way to Gryffindor tower for a shower. It was already almost dinner and he didn’t want to be too late getting there. On his way, he found Ron and Draco again, looking slightly suspicious. When they caught sight of Hari coming up the stairs, they hurried over to him, guilty frowns turning into grins.

“Did it work?” Ron asked Hari excitedly, grabbing his hands and bouncing a bit on his toes.

“Was that you that dropped the Vanishing Cabinet?” Hari’s eyes widened as Ron and Draco both nodded.

“We talked Peeves into doing it,” Draco explained. “Didn’t know it was a Vanishing Cabinet, though.”

Hari shook his head, laughing at his friends’ antics. Still laughing about their trick as Hari explained what happened in Filch’s office (leaving out the letter he read, as he felt a bit bad for reading it), Hari, Ron and Draco made their way up to the tower together. Once there, Hari quickly got in the shower and started rapidly washing the dirt and sweat off himself. It was a great relief to be in the warm water, letting it cascade over him and heating him up after the freezing rain.

Ron and Draco were still in the dormitory when Hari returned, damp from the shower and his curls dripping on the floor again. The others had gone down to dinner already, evidently, leaving Ron and Draco sitting on one of the beds playing Wizards Chess. They glanced up for only a second at Hari’s arrival, before returning to their game.

Dressed, dried and hungry, the three boys made their way down to the feast. They were in the middle of discussing Hermione’s new friendship withMillicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson as Hermione apparently spent most of that day in the library with them when Hari heard it.

“Let me rip… let me tear…”

Hari froze, clutching onto the stone wall, heart racing in his chest. It was the very same voice he heard on the night of his detention with Lockhart.

“Hari? What’s—?” Ron began, stopping and looking at Hari worriedly.

“It’s that voice again!” Hari stage whispered, eyes wide. “Listen!”

“Mate, I don’t hear anything.”

Hari heard the voice once again and felt himself shiver all the way up his spine. “So hungry for so long… let me kill…” Without thinking, Hari turned down the corridor and began following after the voice, Ron and Draco hurrying after him.

“This way!” he said over his shoulder, “I think it’s going to kill someone!”

Hari followed the voice’s continuous whispering about killing and eating someone as he hurried down the stairs and around a corridor. Finally, he came across a familiar corridor which was covered in puddles of water.

Draco gasped behind him. “Oh, Circe, no!” he breathed.

Hari turned towards where Draco was looking and gaped. On the stone wall, written in shining scarlet liquid, was a horrifying message that made Hari’s blood run cold and sent another chill up his spine:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Hanging on the wall on one of the flickering torches on the wall, stiff as a board, was Filch’s pet cat, Mrs. Norris.

Before they could leave the scene to get help, there was a sudden thundering of noise from all sides around them as hundreds of students and teachers began flooding out of the Great Hall and made their way to their common rooms. On both ends of the corridor, hundreds of people suddenly entered the corridor to find Hari, Draco and Ron standing frozen.